Tidbits

• Collectively, we've been sick three times in two months, all upper respiratory infections, and this last one has a deep, nasty cough to go along with it.  I just can't wait until it is done. It is oh-so-very unpleasant to miss out on summer with coughing, hacking, and lethargy.
• Not to mention all the screaming and ill-tempered fighting.  I've kept Eliah in the backpack for a good part of the part two days, mostly to keep him from rooting up turmoil wherever he goes.  He is calmed by being with me and on my person, while I am still able to accomplish my tasks at hand.
• Speaking of . . . I am feeling somewhat mournful over just that: the endlessness of my tasks at hand: the bulldozer effect that inhibits enjoying my little guys with more leisure.  For the first time, I really understand my mom's admonition that she remembers my younger years much better than my sister's, 11 years younger than me.  Life is a blur with so many needs to meet.  I feel sad about it.  The blur.

 He was so pleased about this tree

• I am full-bore in the thrust of planning for our little homeschool for 2015-2016.  It has been a lot of fun - I can tell I am getting better at it.  I have a better sense of the rhythm of our days, how to plan it out, what to expect.  I am also very excited for our new material: literature, poetry, nature study, history.  We will be delving into "early modern times" and studying the beginnings of the US, as well as what was going on in the surrounding world at the time.
• I am totally sold on Festina Lente in my growing philosophy of education, to "make haste slowly" - the idea of not cramming it all in, but letting it slowly settle.  Not trying to conquer or cover everything, but following a slow, well-trodden path.  Saturation vs. sprinkling.  I love it.

 Playdough festival

• We made playdough the week before last.  Each boy got to pick out his own color and spent hours over the course of a couple of days cutting, rolling, lumping, and bumping.  It was great fun. And a good table-time activity for a menagerie of sickies.
• Blaine made the boys a tree house in a younger ash in the tree-line along our driveway.  Truen picked it out on a day that Blaine was planting pumpkins in our "front four" acres.  We are carving out a section (currently in alfalfa) as a test-run.  Truen perched himself in a tree to watch and realized it was the perfect spot.  
• Truby has been talking about tree houses for so long that Blaine decided to bite the bullet and just do it finally.  He cobbled together a nice little platform from scrap lumber.  Three boys can be up there at a time, but we are sticking to a Two Boy rule.  We can just picture them starting a tussle if there were more than two at a time.  
• And actually, if Diego and Jamie are together alone longer than just a few minutes, sometimes [what feels like] just a few seconds, fights inevitably break out.  They are currently under quarantine from each other and can only play together if udder brudders or friends are involved.  Seriously.  It is bad.
• I am still working on nailing down time for Mother Culture.  I've found that I can only read Pride and Prejudice before bed, otherwise my mind wanders (and it isn't too long before it shuts down completely at that time of night anyway).  Dakota is best read while I'm eating, otherwise I feel antsy, and Home Education is best in the morning before anyone else is awake. It isn't a daily guarantee, but I am slowly pecking away at them.
• It has been very interesting to re-read Pride and Prejudice and Dakota as a woman of 37, instead of a girl of 20 (P&P) and a young woman of 27 (Dak).  My sense of insight and understanding is undoubtedly deeper. I love noticing that.
• I have also started a commonplace book to keep track of myself while I read: thoughts, insight, significant passages, excellent quotes.  It pleases me.  I picked the Pegasus Decomposition Book for added whimsy.

Straight from the horse's mouth

I read the following poem aloud during lunch today --

Hear what the mournful linnets say
Hear what the mournful linnets say:
"We built our nest compact and warm,
But cruel boys came round our way
And took our summerhouse by storm.

"They crushed the eggs so neatly laid;
So now we sit with drooping wing,
And watch the ruin they have made,
Too late to build, too sad to sing."

~ Christina Rossetti
   Ambleside Online: Christina Rossetti Poems 

As I read it, it struck me as a good, subtle teaching moment for my boys.  After I finished, Jamie exclaimed, "Hey! We are in this poem!"

Not that Jamie is a particular menace to bird nests at this point in the game, but he is being schooled by a chronic, reoccurring case of I-can't-resist-itis in his biggest brudder.  Truen is intrigued by baby birds, but no one is driven by the desire to ransack bird nests like Diego. 

I could see a look of recognition in Diego's face. It will be interesting to see if this new idea, so beautifully written, bears any fruit in his thoughts or actions.

Tidbits

• We had an expander installed into Diego's mouth last week to widen his palate and make room for all his teeth to grow in.  The reason for it: Can we be well fed, but malnourished? The teeth tell the tale.  His appliance looks identical to the one pictured.  I am convinced that this is the crux of the issue for all of us.
• Our garden looks absolutely magnificent, much more prolific and successful than we've ever experienced.  Or at least that is what we are crowing to each other.  There are always some losses, but this year seems to be 100% success.  Thus far.  (Fingers crossed!)  It feels terrific to have it back.

 

Jamie with a gosling in mid-May

• Our half-grown chicks and goslings are also "the best ever!".  They put themselves into the coops by themselves at night, something that has never happened this early or smoothly.  We have had to physically catch-and-place half-grown chicks into the coop for what felt like weeks (and attempt to "teach them" how to use the roost until they finally get it into their pea-brains) and have always had to herd the geese up into their coop every. single. night in years' past.  It is such a relief to do nothing more take a pleasant walk to latch the door every night. The chicks even figured out the roost by themselves this year.  Smart bunch.
• An interesting side-note on keeping geese: we've noticed that the grass in our orchard has grown stronger in the three years we have kept geese.  It was pretty much a weed-pit when we first moved in, but keeping grazing animals on it has improved the space dramatically.  The grass is thick and it looks like a pleasant place to walk vs. a place to avoid.

They are just so cute

And friendly and endearing and hardy.

(Until they are grown, then they hiss and menace)

• You'll noticed I put two new side-bars up: Mother Culture and Favorite Podcasts.  The latter is self-explanatory.  My SIL sent me her old iPod and the rest is history.  I am so grateful to have the break and thoughtfulness to keep me company while I work in the kitchen.
• Mother Culture is a concept I've been familiar with, but have just recently decided to get serious about in my own life.  This season of life does not afford the leisure of reading for pleasure unless it goes on The List and is made room for.  So make room for it I will.  Brandy's posts have been a great inspiration.
• So with that in mind, I picked three books that I am working through at a snail's pace.  It does make sense to have three in the running, because the snippets of time available to read are not always conducive to one particular book; it is better to have something to pick from based on my frame of mind and availability.  Two of the books I've already read, but have wanted to re-read (Pride and Prejudice and Dakota) and I've also already read a portion of the third (Home Education).  Baby steps.
• This week is Kid Chore Boot Camp at our house (inspired by Mystie at Simply Convivial, et al).  Same song, new verse: I am amping up chores at our house.  With hindsight, I see that this has been a several year process and it is paying off richly.  It is so nice to have the responsibility spread across the divide, rather than drowning in endless duty and sheer mess created by four active boys.  They are getting used to it and while they do still moan, most days they do their chores without much complaint or even many reminders to stay on track.  I am thankful.
• They are now responsible for an expanded set of Morning Chores: in addition to pre-breakfast chores and clearing their spot, they are expected to rinse and put dishes into the dishwasher, sweep, and have one big morning chore each day of the week: fold/put away laundry, vacuuming, vacuuming, vacuuming, and cleaning the bathroom.  I am having them team up on the vacuuming jobs, but have separated bathroom duty: Diego cleans the toilet, Truen cleans the sink and mirror, Jamie has the bathtub.
• I also assigned Diego to solo dishwasher duty.  Truen is now doing cat litters daily, including litter-bucket dumping and sweeping (something that Blaine was still doing on weekends up until this week).  Awesome.

E-yi-ya is two

Our Eliah is two years old.  He still feels like our baby.  He's so little by comparison.  So we carry him around on our hips, baby-talk him, cuddle him close, and refer to him as "the baby".

This little rascal usually refuses to eat during most mealtimes and instead insists on nursing, something Baby Truen did as well.  His frame is small like Truen's too, though he is taller than Truby was at this age.  He's got the most beautiful {milk} chocolate brown curls.  He has his daddy's hair.  And I don't think these are just baby curls . . . I'm pretty sure they are here to stay.  They are so much tighter than either Diego or Truen's baby curls.

He asks, "Jamie?", "Truby?", "Dada?" every morning, wondering where they are.  "They're asleep (or at work)," I tell him.  (He can say "Daygo" too, but never wonders where he is in the mornings for whatever reason.)  Yi-ya gets up at the crack of dawn, usually right around 6:43 AM, sometimes earlier, rarely later.  We snuggle and nurse and read books - it is the only time of the day where I am able to be 100% focused on him and him alone, such precious time for us.

His favorite books are Babies by Gyo Fujikawa, Here We Go! (a vintage 1982 board book), My Little Word Book (a gift from "the Hotdogs" for Baby Diego) and all the "Babyfaces" board books like Smile!, Peek-a-boo!, and Hugs & Kisses.

And this kid, with gum, is amazing.  Blaine gave him a piece last week in the mid-afternoon; I blanched, but didn't fight it, figuring it was just one tiny piece.  Heck, it seems like Jamie was eating gum just last year.  But this guy took to chewing gum like he had always done it.  He chewed that sucker until we went to bed that night and took it out while he ate.  Un-un-un-un.

His favorite game is Hide!, where he likes to cover our heads with his chickie blankie and whisper "Hide! Hide! Hide!" excitedly.  He loves the slide at the park (and at home) and goes down fearlessly.  He'll even play the older brudders' slide game, where they crash into each other and writhe all over the slide in a giant, giggling mass.

He loves his chickie blankie, the one made by Gramma S.  He will go and get it, hand it to one of us, then turn around and expect to be wrapped up in it to snuggle.  This has been our morning ritual for months now, but he also does it when he is sleepy or needs a cuddle.

He likes to "write" like his big brudders, but his artwork extends to the table, walls, or any other flat surface.  He also like to eat the erasers and chomp on the lead.  Needless to say, the pencils are out of his reach unless a'nudder brudders leaves one down (which happens often) and I often have rescue it from his little chomper.  No pencil is safe in his little hands. He even requested to have one this weekend, asking for a "fen-ho".  I had to have him show me to even understand what he wanted.

He is fully potty-trained and has moved to being out into public settings without a diaper.  I'm not sure if he was the easiest to potty-train or if it was just my experience level that made it seem that way, but he did great.  His little buns are so cute.  I love that diaper-less butt.  (And I love. love. LOVE. not having to wrangle diapers anymore. I was so done.)  He's waking up dry from naptime and most mornings too.

He's starting to be interested in big boy games and toys.  He likes to build with Duplo and Mega blocks and has the same loud soundtrack as all his brudders while he plays.

He has also replaced Jamie as the super-pest when it comes to getting into his brudders' set-ups and scenery as they play.  He wants to do everything that they do, right that very second.  Most fights with Jamie end in screaming, with Eliah being pushed down hard, or Yi-ya biting Jamie's head.  The bigger brudders usually just carry him to another room or drop him off with me.

He loves "washing dishes", balls, snuggling, running around with his brudders, kitties, our baby chickies and goslings, horses ("hohshies!) and cows viewed as we drive along, and his "Bupas".  (He refers to both sets of grandparents as a unit. Not "Bupa and Bupa", but simply "Bupa".)

And of course, he is obsessed with "helping" in the kitchen, especially if a big brudder is there.

Eliah is two.  What a little fella. ♥

A lovely rhubarb sauce

We've been enjoying eating out of the garden again: lettuce, spinach, scallions, parsnips, cilantro, dill, rhubarb.  It has been so delicious and quite refreshing, such a nice change of pace from the winter's cabbage salads and sauerkraut.

My favorite treat this spring has been rhubarb sauce, sweetened with raisins and dates.

Rhubarb Sauce

• 1-1.5 lbs of rhubarb
• A big handful of raisins, chopped
• A small handful of pitted dates, chopped
• 3 cloves
• 2-ish cups boiling water

:: Chop the rhubarb and combine everything in a pot that "just fits", pouring boiling water up to the half-way point.

:: Bring to a boil, then let simmer 10-15 minutes or until the rhubarb has broken down into a saucy consistency.

:: Enjoy warm or cool, with butter and maple syrup or coconut oil and honey.

Contingency plan the thousandth

I thought more about my What a diff post and realized that, duh, I now have FOUR children, ages ranging from 2 years old to almost 10 years old. 

In 2009, I "only" had two children, an almost 4 year old and a two year old.  Wow.  Double the laundry, double the food prep, quadruple the clean up and fighting.

No wonder.  One would have thought that was obvious.

Not to mention that they are all boys, energy abounding, with a preference for wrestling and racing all around, led by the oldest boy who has freely admitted that he stirs things up to a frenzied pitch on purpose if and when he gets "bored".

Or the fact that I am trying to keep up with a preschooler and a toddler while simultaneously trying to stay on top of a homeschooling schedule for a 9 and 7 year old.

Goodness.

The one thing I have to remember, always remember, please please please remember, is that life is constantly changing; and with that, I have to be continually adapting to keep the pace.  It is hard, as I usually feel like I am adjusting woefully late in the game.  I need to get better at that: the continual re-address and problem-solving part of parenting.  It never ends, but somehow it slips off my radar on a semi-regular basis.

Furthermore, as a homeschooling mama of four, everything depends on me.  There is no outside structure.  It is all me.

This is good and bad.  Good, in that I prefer autonomy.  Bad, in the fact that I tend to be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, inspired-to-action kind of gal.  I can do routines, but the day always seems like it gets away from me.  And I think it is making life harder.

It feels like we are all floundering, particularly in the morning hours.  I have a skeleton outline for the day, but reeling in the boys for our various tasks and assignments can be arduous.  Set expectations make everything easier.  I know this. An established, daily structure makes everything easier too.  Instead of having to think about it or question "what's next?", we flow.  Like a stream. 

And with all that, I need to actively impose further order to my life, for all of us.

My plan is to start parsing out the day with a timer.  Seriously.  I am going to use it as practice to divide up our hours into manageable chunks, giving the boys an understanding of what to expect so it isn't pulling teeth to move to the next phase of the day, or for me, to wonder what we should be tackling next.  I will do this until it becomes normalized.

I need to identify hot spots, hone in on our routine, and make sure that I have plenty of down-time with the little guys to be able to give them my full attention.

And now . . . I post.  Speaking of the devil, I've got a little four year old wiggling all over me who obviously needs my attention. ♥

What a diff

I try to re-read posts from each particular month from years' past on my blog.  I like to reminisce, compare notes, remember phases and stages, and gain a bit of perspective every time.

Tonight it was the months of May.  I came across this post from 2009 called "What I've been thinking about recently..." and felt amazed I had enough space in my mind to contemplate that long of a list.

My mind is clogged with trying to stay on track with schoolwork, chore routines, housework, attitudes and unruly behavior, mitigating fights, and all the endless problem-solving that goes with all of it.

Things have changed.  There's no doubt about it. I've been feeling as much, but wasn't quite sure if it was just a sense of overwhelm or if I honestly have less space in my life for . . . what? Fancy? Extras? Contemplation? Freedom of thought?

Whatever it is, the difference from May 2009 to May 2015 is distinct.

Mystery solved

I recently listened to a fashion podcast when it dawned on me: the people who are really into style and fashion are the ones that are very interested in it.  It's something they really enjoy.

It cleared up an old mystery for me; which is, why I have never had any fashion sense.  I'm just not interested. Sure, I like to "look cute" . . . but when it comes right down to it, I just don't have it in me.  Ditto on the make-up and hair.  I'm not willing to commit the time and effort when I could be doing something else. So that's why. Whew! I thought there was something wrong with me.

I used to assume it was a deficiency not be imbued with any sense in this area, but now I have the maturity and experience to realize that it takes all kinds.  We all have our own specialties. What a gift.

Mind blown. Again.

Barf festival

My goodness.  Getting at blogging is harder and harder for me these days. Shucks, I just sent out our 2014 Christmas letter just last week.  Pretty much anything other than daily survival is hard to get to at this point in life.

I feel like a college student, talking about how busy I am all the time.  Blah blah blah.  But seriously.  I am enmeshed.  Hopefully it doesn't sound like all I do is complain about how I can't keep up with life.  Eegads.

We were at my parents for three weeks this March/April.  It started off with a bang, with five hours at the airport resulting in a cancelled flight, subsequently rescheduled for two days later, and a 4 year old who woke up throwing up the morning we were supposed to leave.  We bit the bullet and decided to go for it, but realized a day later, that, oh dear, we had probably spread the stomach flu all along the way. Crap.

All five of us slept on the bathroom floor the second night we were at my parents' house, sometimes crowding around the bathroom two-and-three at a time to puke our guts out, until there was nothing left but black bile.  Truen had it the worst, then Eliah, then Diego and me, then Jamie.  If Jamie had had it like Truen or Eliah, we would have never have decided to travel.

But travel we did.

The entire first week was spent recovering from the Norovirus (we all barely ate for days and everyone was weak and thin), broiled in hyper-vigilance over cleanliness and sanitation so as to not spread the virus to my parents, sister, brother, sister-in-law and their new baby.  I wiped everyone's butts wearing disposable gloves, used a spray bottle with bleach solution like a vigilante, and didn't allow anyone touch that sweet little babe until the second-to-last day of their week-long visit.  Eegads again.

It was hard not to be able to cuddle that plump little lass, but the very thought of a 3 month old with the stomach flu prevented any temptation whatsoever.

Also: for the record. I can remember my midwife saying at one point that "activated charcoal does wonders for the stomach flu".  We had given Jamie charcoal the morning we left, but didn't have the experience or insight to administer it to anyone else as a preventative measure.

However, as I was laying on the bathroom floor the morning after a night of puking my guts out, I realized that that is what she was talking about.  Taking it after the puking starts doesn't make sense, because you won't be able to hold anything down. But taking it after exposure to inhibit or damper the side effects, that makes sense.

I immediately told my mom, who started taking it along with everyone else in the household.  My mom did get sick (usually a 1-2 day incubation period, spread by fecal or vomit contamination), but she never actually threw up.  She had the body aches and a tender stomach, but barfing was not in the picture.

So the actual experience and recovery time will be much, much better with activated charcoal.

FYI for future reference.

Unseasonably warm

 E-yi-ya has gotten into the bike craze too.

Bbbbbb-bbbbbb-bbbbb (this is a motor-tricycle)

 Puddle-stomping on a sunny morning --

The boys are outside before breakfast most days.

 Examining the interesting swirls and patterns in the drying mud.

Posing with their spears --

I can't get boots on Diego to save my life. 

 Truen, the threatening monster.

Eliah dipping his finger in the mud and sampling it like melted chocolate.

They were waiting for Blaine to come home at the tree-line on our driveway.

They often wait for him to come home,clambering into his vehicle and asking, "Any treats??"

He did it!

 

Truen decided it was time. This spring. Seven years old.

Time to learn to ride a bike.

 And by golly, he did it.  It took him two days --

First he rode down the front walk, learning how to balance and steer.

After awhile he added pedaling and voilà! He did it.

He has been riding so much since that his little buns hurt.

He named his bike "Bird Wheel" and rides for hours every day.

It is a another dumpster-diving treasure I dug out the summer of 2007,

a few months before he was even born.
And now he's riding it.

My few favorite instances from this morning

QUOTE #1

Mama: "Where's the ball?"
Eliah: "Dere ball!!"

~ A first for Yi-ya, putting two words together.


QUOTE #2

"Mama, the geese are coming back!  I heard their voices."

~ Diego, after opening up the back door to a warm 40 degree F morning.


QUOTE #3

"Look!  There's a MANIA of pine cones up there!!"

~ Jamie, pointing up into a big black spruce in the front yard


And finally . . . Truen's determination to start riding a bike this year.  He's serious.  I think he's going to make it happen this year.

Meatloaf Monday

I am regularly looking for ways to streamline our life, to put the structure in place so I don't have to think as much and put myself into decision fatigue.  It makes life so much easier.

I've been doing just that with the chore routine for the boys.  After a bit of practice for all of us, it becomes the new normal. The older two boys are doing cat litters three times a week, emptying the dishwasher every morning, cleaning the bathroom sink and mirror every Friday, folding / putting away their own laundry, doing regular clean-ups throughout the day, getting the table ready to eat, after-meal clean-up and now after-breakfast chores: Diego clears and wipes the table, then puts the dishes into the dishwasher while Truen sweeps.

After just a few days, it absorbed into their system.  I generally don't even have to remind them and they almost 'whistle while they work'.  It is an especially sweet outcome for me, since both boys turned into dark clouds after I made the initial announcement of their new after-breakfast chores, and then accused by an angst-filled Diego who wailed, "Why are you ruining our lives??"

Right.  I had to turn my face aside and chuckle over that one.  It was so preposterous it wasn't even worth getting mad about.  And that same morning, both of them followed-up with a "That wasn't so bad" and "I actually like putting dishes in the dishwasher / sweeping".  Seriously.

But this post isn't about chores, it is about meatloaf.  Scrumptious, mouth-watering meatloaf.

I lahv meatloaf.

New at our house is "Meatloaf Monday".  It is so simple and such a great kick-off for the week.  I never have to wonder what I'm going to make that night or what I should pull out of the freezer that weekend.  It is already scripted into my weekly routine.

In addition, I've hit the sweet-spot where I don't even need to look at a recipe.  I've got it down pat.  It's my own creation too, grain-free and loaded with vegetables.

MARVELOUS MEATLOAF

• 2 lbs ground beef
• 1 large onion
• 1-2 carrots
• 1 parsnip
• 4-5 mushrooms
• 3-4 cloves garlic
• 1-2 cups cooked squash
• 1 egg
• 2 tsp sea salt
• parsley, sage
• pepper
• home-rendered tallow

:: Preheat oven to 350
:: Chop the vegetables and saute them in beef fat, adding the garlic toward the end
:: Put the cooked squash and egg into a large bowl, then beat the egg
:: Once the vegetables are soft and sweet and slightly brown, add it to the bowl along with the meat
:: Add salt, pepper, parsley, sage
:: Mix well, then put back into the 12" cast-iron skillet
:: Bake for 40 minutes

Oooo-la-la, it is amazing.

I love it with baked sweet potatoes, cabbage salad, and a pickle on the side.

The boy-ohs

Eliah (21 months) now says, "Papo!" and points to the top of the refrigerator (where we keep the pacifiers) when he wants one.  He's talking more and more and has recently added, "Throw!", "Wow", and "Uh-oh" to his usual "Dada", "Mama", "Ball", "Bath", "Bye-Bye" repertoire.  He whispers "Toots" or "Bay" and clicks his tongue, holding his hand out for the cats.  We are working on body parts and he can identify his belly button, nipples, teeth, tongue, nose, eyes, ears (most of the time), and his hair.  I usually quiz him during diaper changes just to keep him busy.  I asked him the other day where his hands, feet, and head were (never thinking to have asked before) and sure enough, he knew where they were.  Osmosis.

Jamie (4 years) is currently going through a phase of carrying a notebook with him wherever he goes.  It is the cutest thing.  He like to "write" along the lines, in compact up-and-down scribbles, but he is also writing a few letters - "T", "H", and the cutest "E" with a few too many lines.  He LOVES doing his own "copywork" with his brudders during Morning Lessons.  He is right-handed a holds his pencil like a pro.  He is drawing too - stick people with big heads and long mouths.  The other day he asked for an "ink pencil".  And just yesterday afternoon he set up a little desk at the play table with the toy laptop and a pile of paper.

Truen (7 years) is always busy with little projects - drawing, painting, writing, making books, or building you-name-it with wooden blocks, Duplo blocks, Legos, Magnetix, etc.  He is an absolute self-starter and usually spends a good chunk of the night at the kitchen table at work while his brudders snuggle with Blaine on the couch in front of the television.  He wants to grow his hair out to "keep him warm".  His top-left front tooth is loose and will probably fall out sometime this spring.  He loves to speculate about big ideas like gravity or the heat of the sun.  He recently listened to The Boxcar Children during QT and came downstairs dreamy-eyed and wishing he could live like that.

Diego (9 years) has gotten back into drawing battle scenes.  Bigtime.  He filled the bottom-half of the large sketchbook he got for Christmas the year before last, but realized that most of the top-half of the paper is blank, so he has gotten back into the groove of adding to the action (different levels or ships flying through the sky).  If the house is quiet, he's usually either upstairs playing with Legos or laying on the sunroom floor drawing in his sketchbook.  He's able to make breakfast now: eggs.  I can count on his adept assistance with very little supervision.  Money burns a hole in his pocket and he spends time every day scheming on what Lego sets he (and his brudders) will buy.  He has a clear understanding of the clock, time, and money.

And my other baby, our little Homeschool.  We are in our third official year and I feel like I've learned so much.  We are in a solid routine of daily Morning Lessons with copywork, phonics, read alouds, map-making, etc.  Both boys are reading.  Diego's fluency and reading level are higher than Truen's, which makes sense give his age.  They practice by reading aloud to me every day.  I recently moved our read alouds to breakfast, morning snack, and lunch, which has been an absolute BOON.  I am actually able to get in all of our reading material each week and they are attentive and mostly quiet while I do so.  It is amazing! and it feels so good.  Before this switch, I would say we were definitely floundering.  Or at least I was.  It was hard to bore my way in through the noise and attention levels to get them to sit and listen.  Another addition that feels terrific: reading a longer piece of historical fiction that coincides with our history timeline.  Awesome.  Our most recent novel: Son of Charlemagne.

Pictoral Update

We were gone on our annual winter visit to the Twin Cities the week before last --

First with my friend Laura in Wisonsin, then with my SIL in a TC suburb.

Here are three of 'em readin' with Laura's Plumpy.
Just look at that holey knee: the demise of so many pants.

Everyone loves the fountains at Como Park --
And yes, Diego pulled out a few pennies before I put the kibosh on it.

We were there with my SIL and three of the cousins.

 You would not believe what it took to get this picture --

I had to haul Yi-ya up on my lap and block Jamie from the water behind us. 
Surrounded by boy-ohs.

 Visiting the cousins: I just love cozying up at home with them.

Here are the little guys playing with a favorite cousin upstairs . . .

 While the big guys did Lego battles with another favorite cousin downstairs.

Love them. Best cousins ever.

After a bit we came home, and after some fevers and coughing,

we continue the process of readjusting to "real life".

Just look at these little brothers!

It is amazing what kind of growth happens in less than two years.

 Just last week: I love this action shot in the kitchen --

The morning sun shining, our crowded refrigerator front,

Dishwasher, diapers, boys climbing like monkeys.

Resurfacing

I'm sure you could tell by my recent post that I have been working through what I've come to call a "mothering slump" in recent weeks and months.  Too true.  It has been hard, slogging through the day, feeling like all I do is break up ugly fights and scold young boys.

But then, like the clearing of a summer storm, everything has gotten better in a matter of days.  It seems like everything has worked together in conjunction to refresh my weary spirit.

I went to a friend's house last Friday, someone I really connect with, and hashed through life for seven hours.  Seven hours!  And we still didn't cover everything. So many of my thoughts have very little outlet at this point in life - it was extremely cathartic to talk and talk and talk and talk.

The first term at our little homeschool ended, switching out books, poet, artist, and memory work.  Out with the old: The Princess and the Goblin, The Story of Marco Polo, Emily Dickinson, and Norman Rockwell.  In with the new: The Jungle Book, Langston Hughes, Carl Larsson, and our new poem The First Snowfall.  I am absolutely reinvigorated by our new material.

Another recent change is in our daily schedule.  Blaine just started going to and from work an hour earlier each day.  He is very pleased getting home at 4:30 PM with more sunlight in his day and doesn't mind getting up an hour earlier.  On our end, we are enjoying having him home earlier in the afternoon.  Additionally, in conjunction with the baby sleeping in until almost 8:00 AM (very, very new), it also has allowed me and hour or so in the morning in complete silence and solitude.  Bliss.

Thinking about it, that is perhaps the biggest factor in my recent buoyancy: morning solitude.  I have had it in the past, but not since the birth of baby #4 in May 2014.  A year and a half.  It has been rough.  I have been biding my time, trying to stay optimistic that it will return, but have felt wearier as time wears on.

I am cautiously optimistic, hoping it sticks and won't turn out to be just a short-term anomaly.  I have felt a significant difference in my energy levels and attitude throughout the entire day.  Significant.  That time worth its weight in gold.

To top it all off, the three older boys have broken through the spiraling fights for the time being and have been playing together peacefully, enmeshed in a world of make-believe that keeps them inspired and happy.  Today they were playing house under the stairs; yesterday, it was something akin to "army camp".  What sweetness there is when peace ripples throughout the house.

It never ends, but it never should end

I had an epiphany last week while listening to a podcast.

Organization is a continuous process, not an end-goal.  It is as unrelenting and daily as dishes or laundry.

Mind blown.

Let us not forget

The sweetness

Out-processing

I am finally at the place in my life where I am drug-out, bone-tired by bed-time.  It seems like it used to be "just tired" when it was time for bed - I'm sure I was sleepy, but this?  I am weary.  I'm not sure if that is just where I am at in the mothering journey or if it goes with the territory of being in my late thirties.  I have no idea where anything sits along that line.  Is X a sign or aging of simply the wear-and-tear of mothering?

I have many inspirational ideas for wonderful posts, at least in my mind, where I am able to thoughtfully process through life.  But when I sit down - poof - everything goes up in a puff of smoke.  I don't have one thoughtful thought in me.  Or perhaps it is all submerged.

I've experienced various levels of identity crisis in this mothering journey, the confusion of trying to sort out who I am amongst the duty of life and serving others.  It sounds so dramatic, and perhaps less pressing to those of a different temperament, but it has been a weight on me at times.  I look back to my daybook entries or blog posts, even from early motherhood, and I see a girl who has not yet become - still paddling along as I always had, exploring little nooks and crannies, full of energy,  interest, and fun.

But now? I'm the hag that says, "I'm not going to argue with you, just do it" and "Don't give me that look" or "I'm going to give you a chance to do that again" and "Are you ready to be kind?" or "I'm ready for boys to get the table ready for din-ner" and "Time for before-lunch clean-up!"  And so on.

"Free-time", or even down-time, basically doesn't exist - I always have a long agenda of items that need my attention, from the physical reality surrounding me to paperwork and life records.  I'm not even sure what I would do if I had TRUE "free-time".  Even writing this post makes me feel a little jittery, expecting to be interrupted at any moment.

Am I complaining? I don't think I am even though it may feel like it. (I dislike the feeling of "wallowing" in negativity and I especially detest presenting myself in a negative manner.)  I know I am out-processing reality as I know it.

I feel like a changed person - like a train on my tracks, there is no turning back.  Every year brings new challenges and victories.  I am getting better at the balancing of life (housework, organization, meal planning, schoolwork, household management, etc.) - I know I am - I can see the results around me.  I look back at my past self and see just how much I had to learn.  I'm sure that will be the story until the very end, but it is just so amazing to me.

Lil' Eliza Jane

 A niece!  The sweetest thing.

Born "on Christmas Day in the mor-ning". For realz.

Sweet Eliza Jane, named for my sister.

 Here she is, three days old.

Erik and Ashley are smitten. (Of course!)

I can't stop smiling whenever I see her.

 She was a breech baby until 39 weeks. Un-un-un-un.

Then she was posterior. Un-un-un-un.

Then Ash pushed for 5 hours after laboring on and off for three days. 

UN-UN-UN-UN. (Lil' Eliza's head was at an odd angle.) (She had a tilted conehead.)

In the end Ash feels good about her birth, and I'm so glad.

One week old, lips pursed.

"It is amazing how fast they change." But seriously.

I thought she looked more like Ash this time,

though when she opened her eyes I saw Erik.
I can hardly wait to smooch and snuggle her come March!