just about perfect

We are at that lovely parental intersection of independence and undying love. The kids are old enough to go to the garden to pick basil and cherry tomatoes, old enough to miss quiet time and stay up late without replaying scenes from The Exorcist the next day, old enough to reason with and carry on pretty deep and very interesting conversations. At the same time, they are young enough to hold our hands in a busy room, young enough to crawl into our bed on a lazy Saturday morning for a very crowded good morning hug, young enough to curl up on the couch with me to read book after book after book.

7 1/2 hours at the State Fair, almost 2 hours past bedtime and these "corn pirates,"
as Elliot calls them, had 0 meltdowns and an unlimited amount of fun. Success!

Yes, 8-year-olds can throw epic temper tantrums, 6-year-olds can boss people around with the best of them, and 4-year-olds can be as stubborn as an old mule. But parenting these three right now feels just about perfect. In case you ever wonder.

what to expect when you're expecting: the stuff that no one tells you

That sink that's in your bathroom? It looks spacious, right? Definitely big enough to catch your spit when you brush your teeth and the water when you wash your hands. If you assume that, you are wrong. So very wrong. Spit on the mirror is inevitable, as is standing water around every sink in which a kid happens to wash his or her hands.

Hand towels will (never is such a bold word, but it really works here) never hang on their towel rack. You might not realize that towels and towel racks are severely allergic to each other.

If there are two children in the same room and you tell one kid to stop standing on the couch, you can almost guarantee that the other kid is about to stand on the couch the minute the first kid sits down. Parental requests, no matter how obvious they seem, must be made to each specific kid at each specific infraction. It's kid law.

If you ask a kid if they're tired, the answer is almost certainly no. They could be falling asleep in their plate of food at the dinner table, but they are definitely not tired.

The speed at which your child puts on her or his shoes and gets ready to head out the door is inversely proportional to the hurry that you are in. It is one of the great and frustrating mysteries of the world.

Mopping the floors means that within the next 24-48 hours something sticky, smelly, and/or liquid is going to be spilled on your floors. It simply has to happen.

Teaching your children the proper names of body parts and answering their questions honestly is the correct thing to do, but they will never say random embarrassing things about vaginas or the size of their scrotum or tampons in the comfort of your own home. No, they reserve those conversations for rest stop bathrooms where there is no place to run and hide and your only consolation is the fact that you're far from home and it's highly unlikely you'll ever see these people again.

Your children will, at some point, forget that they are blessed to live in a country, community, and home that has this nifty trick that when you turn on the faucet, clean, drinkable water comes out of it. There will be a cup of water sitting out and one child will grab it and the other child will, quite out of the blue, come down with such a dire and severe thirst that death is imminent. They will use every last breath to freak out about the fact that their sibling is going to finish the water. They will live under the assumption that once that water is gone, the earth will be void of all liquid. The other child, not that thirsty to begin with, will suddenly need to drink all of the water. Every. Last. Drop. You have other cups. You have other sinks. It matters not. This calls for pandemonium.

Your children will do something like this:

Or this:

Or maybe this:

For absolutely no reason except for the fact that they are crazy fun. You will laugh and take picture.

Your kids will confound you every single day. You will wonder every day if you did your best by them and what they'll remember from the day. Will it be the fact that you snapped at them for not picking up their dirty clothes even though you'd reminded them 12 times or will it be that you dropped everything to play catch in the front yard? Every night you'll hope you do a little bit better the next day because these kids who trash your house and ask millions of questions and say stuff that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die deserve the very best of you. It isn't easy. Holy moly, it isn't easy, but it is so very worth it. Just in case you ever wonder.

cousins and duathlons and friends, oh my

We had a fun-filled, long weekend with Maclain and Beckett a few weeks ago. Having a 2-year-old, two 4-year-olds, a 6, and 8-year old in the house was fun and noisy and full of memory making silliness.

elliot's poorly timed bout with random vomiting

kids set up their transition area for our family duathlon

on your mark, get set, go!

Beckett runs toward his big brother

Audrey heads home on her second running lap around the block

Elliot's ready for the high-five

Hollin came to help and was a life-saver

They decided Thursday was baseball day so we took the party to the park for a baseball game

How cute is this!?

four blond boys and a beautiful brunette

My friend brought her three kids over and we had a neighbor over. two grown-ups, 10 minor children, lots of fun

daughter o'mine

Audrey Shea, my beloved daughter. Teller of intricate embellishments, lover of morning cuddles baker, artist, and rainbow polka dot toenail fashionista. She is a perfect combination of tough and sweet and silly. She gets so happy when I wear dresses and loves time spent with just a grown-up, especially if it's a mama grown up. 

Therefore, the other day when she might have had the chicken pox, but didn't actually have the chicken pox, she was absolutely thrilled because we had a just the two of us afternoon. She schooled me at Brainquest, painted pictures, read a few chapters about that silly first-grader, Ramona, and gave each other pedicures on the front porch. It wasn't at all how we thought we'd spend our day, but it was the absolute best way I could have spent my day. This girl, plopped right in the middle of two brothers, is special and so fun to hang out with. She is all in, living 100%, all happy or all sad with no middle ground. Sometimes the very qualities I love so very much about her make being her mama a challenge, but I wouldn't change her for all the money in all of the world. Just in case you ever wonder.

snuggled up around the campfire

matching rainbow polka dot pedicures

the beginning of the polka dots

I covered her in calamine every 20 minutes and she handled it like a trooper

lunch time mutterings

from the mama, as she fried up bacon for the first time in her adult life to make her kiddos a BLT and corn on the cob lunch: "If you ever wonder how much I love you, just remember the time your vegetarian mama cooked bacon for you." Audrey: "Yeah. You hate touching meat!"

After discussing the different Olympic relay races: "Who would win the 4x100 relay between ghosts and batons?" "Oh, no, how about ghosts and refrigerators?" "No, no, I have a better one. Who would win between refrigerators and freezers? I mean, which one is heavier? Ghosts don't have arms so they couldn't even pass the baton." etc. etc. etc.

silly conversations brought to you by silly kids

And there was much discussion on Audrey's polka dots and if Elliot would get his own set sometime soon.

calamine lotion is her friend.

Isaac is funny

It is possible that we take our family games of horse and basement bop the balloon volleyball games a wee bit too seriously. On Friday I was blowing bubbles and Audrey and Isaac were popping them. Isaac run and dove, risking life and limb to ensure that none popped on the ground. At one point, he soared into the air and smacked a balloon while shouting, "Not in my house." We take our games seriously around here.

silly faces at NW Company Fur Post

Letting Elliot in on a little Fantasy Football strategy

Today we were driving to Punch Pizza before the Lynx game. Out of the blue he said, "Mama?" When I asked him what he replied, "I'm really close to being able to turn my head 180 degrees." Alrightythen.

Gender norms, aka Who died and made you King/Queen of what's normal? aka Get over it.

Nail polish is for girls. Unless you're Carson Daly. Or Johnny Depp. Or David Beckham. You know, feminine, "girly" men like that.

Bow and arrows are for boys. Unless you're Katniss.

Dance is for girls. Unless you're Alvin Ailey. Or Justin Timberlake.

Pants are for boys. Unless you're almost any girl in the United States.

Skirts are for girls. Unless you're Scottish.

Science is for boys. Unless you're Marie Curie.

Cooking is for girls. Unless you're Emeril Lagasse or Wolfgang Puck or Jacques Pepin.

Just saying.

The blur that was summer

I tore my ACL and had surgery in early May. We put our house on the market in late June. At least I think it was late June. I really have no idea and I'm too lazy to click over and check email for the actual date. The important thing is that it was this summer. There were birthdays. Jim's been working in Rochester for most of the summer. Therefore, it is really no surprise that I have little recollection of the blur that was summer. Or maybe I just have early on-set dementia. The jury's out on that one.

To remedy our lackluster summer, the kids and I have become Twin Cities Tourists, with the goal of maximizing fun while minimizing cost. We have taken four field trips in five days and we only paid for one of them thanks to memberships to Children's Museum (gift from the vanWestrienens) and MN Historical Society (groupon purchase that we will use three times this week).

Monday we met some another family from co-op at the MN Zoo. Two families, oodles of children. What can I say? We homeschool. (Joke!)

Tuesday we met some other friends at Children's Museum. This membership will also get us into the Science Museum for free on Tuesday thanks to a special "Preschool Playdate" where they offer reciprocity.

Wednesday we stayed home so we could watch Elliot watch us watch the other kids do the gymnastics class that we paid good money for. (Yes, I'm bitter.)

Thursday we headed down to the MN History Center. We'd seen some of the exhibits before and a few were closed for renovation, but it was worth it to see the 1934 exhibit. During the Great Depression, the government set up a program to pay artists to document life in America during that time. There were different categories like Leisure, Nature, Industry, and People. The pictures were stunning, we learned a lot about history and art from the explanations next to each picture, and it sparked many great conversations.

Today we drove up to Pine City to tour the North West Company Fur Post. It was a fun and informative time as we traveled back to 1804 to learn how the Ojibwe and French worked together, traded together, and changed the way the other lived. This was free since it's part of the MN Historical Society.

in the "mall of America" of Ojibwe shopping, circa 1804

Tomorrow we'll camp in our friend's backyard and we'll use our historical society membership again on Sunday when we celebrate the sesquicentennial of the Civil War at Fort Snelling.

We're ending summer with a bang and the benefits are numerous. One, it makes it more likely that I'll remember it. (You know, because of the dementia.) Two, it keeps us out of the house so that it stays clean longer between showings. Three, we are having oodles of fun, making lots of memories, hanging out with friends, and learning a lot. Four, bedtime is a breeze because these are some tuckered out children. Five, did I mention the fun and learning? Both are abundantly present!

There is no way he could possibly be even one tiny bit sweeter

Elliot says the very kindest things. He is always telling me how special I am. Out of the blue he will come and hug me and squeeze my cheeks and tell me how much he loves me. Just a few minutes ago, I heard his screaming voice, "Mama! Mama!" He was screaming because he really wanted my attention and he's upstairs in bed and I'm in the basement. I ran up to see what he needed. As soon as he saw me he started wiggling and smiling his excited smile as he said, "You forgot to ask me my favorite part of today." Now that I knew it wasn't injury or bathroom related, I allowed my smile to match his. "And what was your favorite part of today," I inquired. "Hugging you," he calmly replied. I hustled my way up those last few steps to add a few more hugs to his favorite part of today.

The other day Isaac and Audrey were working on a few thank you notes and Elliot wanted to be in on the action. He grabbed a note card, pretended to write on it, and brought it over to me. Since it was blank, he "read" it to me. He said, "It says, 'mama's good at everything you do.'"

He thought I reinvented the wheel and discovered the combination of PB and chocolate on the day I gave him a placemat full of shaving cream

tossing rocks into Lake Huron at Mackinac Island

He's my little ego boost, this beautiful, sweet, funny little boy.

I must remember this gem

Elliot:

"Last night poop came out of my knee and I do not know how it possibly ever happened. It was very, very, very, very weird."

funny stuff

I planned on signing Audrey and Elliot up for dance, much to their delight. Until today. I let Elliot in on a little information that did not please him. At lunch I told him that he and Audrey would be in different classes. He looked at me across the table with a look of utter seriousness and import and said, "I'm not doing that." I assured him it would be at the same place as last year and Audrey would be in the same building, but a different room. "No," he repeated as he shook his head. Well, guess that takes care of that.

Today we biked over to pick up our CSA veggies and Audrey was weaving here and there on the bike trail to optimize the number of leaves crunched. As she happily biked, she said, "Mama, crunching leaves is just the best sound. Don't you think, mama?" What a sweet, observant, excitable audyboo.

Speaking of biking, Audrey is getting fast. She fearlessly zooms over bumps and around corners. Yesterday on a different bike ride, I told her that I was pretty sure she got faster every single time we went for a bike ride. She smiled a big, loose toothed smile. After a particularly impressive burst of speed, I said, "Yes, you are definitely getting faster and stronger every single time." She smiled up at me and said, "Mama, I think you're getting faster on your bike, too." That little compliment meant the world to me. 

Isaac spent last week at musical production camp so he was gone from 9-3 from Monday through Friday. Then he had the triathlon Saturday and two performances Sunday. Needless to say, it was a busy week for Mr. Isaac. Today was his day to reconnect with the family. Homeschooling works for our family for a lot of reasons, but the bond between these kids is a huge component. They played Hide and go seek with a football, balloon volleyball, and a game involving two kids laying on the floor doing flutter kicks while the other kid jumped over them and tried not to trip. Good stuff.

The Brick

If you're training for a triathlon, you are sure to hear these words of wisdom: "Respect the brick." If you're not training for a triathlon, you have no idea what this means. Brick refers to training on two disciplines in the same workout, i.e. taking a bike ride and then going for a run. Isaac is in training for his first triathlon (tomorrow!!!) and is very serious about the brick. He has taken a 2 mile bike ride and then gone for a run. He has biked to the beach to practice his swim. He is ready and excited and thrilled to be raising money for MiracleKids, an organization that helps pay the bills of families with children who have cancer.

Tomorrow he will meet Wyatt, his All Star. Wyatt is a 4 year old boy with beautiful eyes, a mischievous smile, and cancer. I'm not sure how this will affect Isaac, especially considering his special affinity for a certain 4 year old brother with beautiful eyes and a mischievous smile. It is a lot to think about, a lot to take in, brave children with a senseless disease standing next to healthy children. So much alike, yet so very different.

But Isaac and all of those racing and fundraising for MiracleKids will do what they can to make those similarities shine and those differences disappear. One swim stroke, one bike rotation, one step at a time.

kangaroos and dollars

Well, look who I found at Target. Why, it's the Sour Kangaroo from Seussical, complete with headset microphone.

We needed to pick up some shorts for Isaac's triathlon and a gift for a friend's birthday, but I found some lined dry erase boards in the Dollar Spot that will be perfect for Isaac and Audrey as they learn cursive. You'd have thought I gave future 12-year-old Audrey tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. Or past 12-year-old DeNae tickets to a New Kids on the Block concert. (Hey, Jordan Knight, call me.) She grabbed me tightly around my waist and repeated, "Thank you, mama" about eight times before heading to the table to write her alphabet, erase it, and start writing words.

Now that is $1 well spent.