yes, he's four

"There aren't holes in these pockets that lead to my penis, but sometimes I put my hands in my pockets and toss my penis up and then it flops back down. Sometimes I wish there wasn't gravity."

Oh my wow.

the happy boy and his police uniform

an epic battle is being waged

A battle for the ages. A battle between logic and magic.

Isaac is a kid steeped in facts. He devours them by the bookful and spews them by the mouthful. Gray area is far too fuzzy; this boy wants the facts.

Which gets complicated this time of year. Santa. Gifts for all the kids in all the world. Flying reindeer when it is well documented that deer do not fly. Covering that kind of ground in one short day. Elves. Making toys. All of these things are just not possible. He gets that. But he wants it to be possible. He wants it so badly.

One minute he's tracking Santa online saying, "There's no way this is real," and the next minute he's shouting, "He'll get to Lisbon, Portugal next! Santa. Santa!" One minute he's saying there's no way Santa could deliver all of those gifts and the next minute he's devising a plan that involves a team of Robot Santas that drop down from the sleigh and deliver the gifts, then fly back to the sleigh, while real Santa continues flying on with the reindeer.

It's confusing to his mind.

pausing for a picture with his spy gear from Santa

But, so far, for one more Christmas anyway, magic won. And I am thrilled.

words I wish I had written

Sometimes I Pass the Place Where We Once Lived - A Sonnet

Sometimes I pass the place where we once lived
And glimpse three ghosts arriving at the door
A woman - me, a man, a newborn child,
Arriving, in the darkness, shocked and sore.
I watch them cross the threshold, disappear,
They don't exist now - all of them are gone,
For brand new parents barely last a day,
And babies only live 'til they are one.
In twenty years I'll show you our old haunts:
"We used to come here once when you were small"
You'll shrug, but I'll see flashes everywhere -
Each gate you climbed, each park, each village hall.
Our lives move on, we change, evolve, adjust,
Leaving our trace, our imprints in the dust.

 

found on "the mule" website

 

 

Audrey speaks the truth

Today Elliot was sitting on a mound of pillows pretending to be Santa and handing out all of his extra Rudolphs as gifts. All of a sudden he hopped down and shouted, "Who wants to have some of this?!" Then he proceeded to do a very impressive air guitar skiff, complete with what sounded an awful lot like a whammy bar. Audrey looked at him and said, "I think he's going to be a really funny teenager." I think so, too.

winter

We finally got the snow we've waited two darn years for and all five of us were chomping at the bit to get out there and play in it. We had a blast and can't wait for the next snow storm.

Ready to hit the hill on their snowboards

wheeeeee

Outdoor family fun-our favorite

snow might be elliot's favorite food

frosty

that's a lot of snow

a sled ride to the park

clearing a path down the slides

Isaac had a blast at Spirit Mt. and can't wait to go back

Introducing Scout

We held out as long as possible, hoping for a snowy day, but we could wait no longer. We just had to go cut down our Christmas tree. Although it wasn't as white and dreamy as we'd hoped, we had a wonderful time searching for our tree. This was the first year that a kid picked the tree. Isaac was running ahead and came upon a wonderful tree that looks just beautiful sitting in our living room, adorned with all the little ornaments that make us happy and bring back memories. He even came up with the name: Scout, named after the dog at the tree farm who frolics with the kids every year. My one beef with Scout is that he (and that pains me to me this tree is all girl, but the kids have spoken and Scout is a boy) has no fresh, piney scent. Not even the day we brought him home. It's a problem. But, I'll look past it because he's so darn cute and hand picked by my sweet 8-year-old.

And now, without further ado, Scout.

we'll pay for it, but you have to get it to the car
:)

Merry Christmas.

true vikes fan

You know you're a true Vikings fan when you even bruise purple and gold. (This is what it looks like when head meets 2x4 at the speed of kid zooming down hill on sled.)

around here

We're sick. Sleepy and achy and lazy. Influenza A has reared its ugly head and we're just waiting to see who will be left standing. So far Isaac, Audrey, and I are down and we're hoping the other two can fight it off. It's not fun, but it could be worse.

As Isaac slept with me on Tuesday night and I repeatedly got up with him to take him into the steamy bathroom so he could breathe easier and last night as I slept with Audrey in her teeny bed and felt her hot, sick breath on my face, knowing it would surely make me sick, I was so glad that I got to be the one taking care of them and that they were still here for me to love on earth. Sick and all, they're here and that's a blessing.

Then today I woke up with a fever induced dream fresh in my head. I was just about to forget it when Elliot asked if I'd dreamed last night.

My dream was a mixed media dream that combined me talking with white words written on black background. It said something like this: "We shouldn't be outraged or surprised by what happened last week. Horrific things like this happen all over the world every day in the form of children sold into slavery and suicide bombers and rape and starvation and. and. and. The list goes on for far too long and hurts far too badly. Yes, this case struck close to home because we want childhood, particularly childhood in suburban USA, to be safe and protected, but the truth is that it isn't either for many children all over the world. So use this anger. Bottle this outrage. Find a cause near and dear to your heart that will help brutalized children and humans and make a difference for them. Start 2013 with a mission to make a difference for someone who is forgotten by most of the world. The least and the lost. The hungry and the abused. The forgotten. Remember them. And help them."

light

This weekend we hung low. Monopoly, Christmas cookies, library books, church, piano recital, coloring books. No TV. No radio. The five of us hunkered down and let the world go on outside our doors for just a while. Pretended what was out there couldn't touch what was going on in here.

It worked for a while, but they briefly touched on the CT shooting in church, thankfully with no details. It flew over Audrey and Elliot's head, but Isaac heard. Because what happens out there does touch in here and sometimes that really sucks. It sucks when there are too many feelings to process, but not enough words to make it make sense. It sucks to think of those faces and that pain and attempting to unexplain that which makes absolutely no damn sense. It fills me with so many questions and no answers, so much sadness and little hope. It sucks.

But here's the thing. What happens in here also touches what goes on out there. The joy and love and forgiveness in here can be stronger than the senseless and debilitating anger out there.

“Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.” Anne Frank
                                     
The world is full of families and communities working every day to leave a legacy of love and service and I pray that we all continue in that vein to thwart the hate and the deranged and the unloved. We can be the candles that bring light to the darkness. We can be people who bring love to those raised with hate and filled with hate and spewing hate.

It won't be easy. It will, in fact, be scary. Terrifying. But it is absolutely necessary because this has to stop somewhere. I want it to end with me.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

                                               

being a mama

is harder and better than I ever thought.
is more mentally draining and spiritually uplifting than I could have dreamed.
is full of love and impatience.

Yes, all of those very opposing statements are true. I want to be such a good mama because I want my kids to feel the love I have in my heart. I want to never be impatient and always handle them with care and their misbehavior with an opportunity to learn.

But what I want and what I do don't always match up. Of course, they can't always match up because I'm not a robot. But I can always try harder and err on the side of love and grace. That's my aim.

Reading things like this help me.

“Motherhood is about raising and celebrating the child you have, not the child you thought you would have. It's about understanding that he is exactly the person he is supposed to be. And that, if you're lucky, he just might be the teacher who turns you into the person you are supposed to be.”
― Joan Ryan, The Water Giver: The Story of a Mother, a Son, and Their Second Chance





Yep. That's the kind of mama I aim to be. I hope I don't fall too short.

today

Today we woke up to 14 inches of glorious snow. Today my oldest son and his thrilled papa are driving up to Spirit Mountain in Duluth to take advantage of the season passes they got as their early Christmas presents. Today I am left with an adorable little Rudolph and Santa's elf who will help me bake cookies and are currently harnessing the reindeer to the sleigh in order to fly around the house delivering gifts to animals. Today I will pull them through the forest on a bright red sled, the color a perfect contrast to the sea of white, on the lookout for the perfect branches that will serve as arms for our Frosty the snowman. Today we'll warm up with hot cocoa as we read Christmas stories and finish schoolwork. Today we'll sled with neighbors. Today we'll celebrate winter.

3 little blurbs about my 3 littles

Me: You make my days so special.
Elliot: You make my days specialer than your days are.

Audrey cried about clothes for the first time in her 6 year old life yesterday. The christmas program is tomorrow and she is a shopper/dancer/angel and she is supposed to look Christmas-y. That is a little vague for me so I figured we'd go red and green and call it good. Then I realized dress rehearsal was Saturday and it was Friday afternoon and we were at the Christmas tree farm and she was lacking in the red and green department.We stopped at Goodwill on the way home and Audrey found something she kind of liked, but kind of didn't and she just couldn't decide so we went home empty handed. When we got home, she went up to her room and came down crying. She just kept saying she was tired, although I suspected it was something more. We snuggled on the couch and she calmed down and we had a lovely time decorating our tree and making our house all festive. Audrey was in her glory. Later, as she and I cleaned up from supper, I said that she didn't seem tired anymore and asked why she was so upset earlier and she admitted that it was because she wished she'd bought the shirt. She looked so sad over that little $2.99 shirt. Then I did something that seemed simple, but brought such delight to her face. I told her that I'd stop by Goodwill while she was at dress rehearsal to see if it was still there. She ran at me and hugged me and said thank you about 12 times.

I went back today and that shirt was gone, but there was a red shirt with sparkly snowflakes and hearts that she'll wear with black leggings and black tutu. I put the shirt up in her room as a surprise and when she saw it I heard those little legs flying down the stairs and got tackled again as she said it was even better and she loved it. Gosh, I love that girl.

Isaac had a hard day yesterday. Oh, yes, he did. Then we went to cut down our Christmas tree in the afternoon and all was right in the world. There was laughing and running and more laughing. Oh, boy, I'm thankful for yesterday afternoon. Isaac actually chose our tree this year after much chilly searching and the kids named him Scout after the dog from the tree farm. It was a great afternoon spent with a great kid who is allowed to have bad days now and again without his mom totally freaking out. Seeing his smile this afternoon was a gift.

books and more books

Current chapter books:
Isaac-Swiss Family Robinson
Audrey-Ramona's World
Elliot-The Mouse and the Motorcycle

Sharing chapter books with my kids is one of my favorite things.

The anxiety Elliot feels about Ralph being stuck at the bottom of the waste paper basket is just precious. He was a little confused at first because he figured that the waste paper basket must be made out of paper, so Ralph should be able to gnaw through it. How adorable is that logic?

Audrey and I are working through all of the Ramona Quimby books and that is the perfect series for our sweet, silly Audrey. We share so many giggles and so many sighs over the mischievous antics that Ramona gets into.

Isaac and I are reading Swiss Family Robinson, a fantastic book for an 8 1/2 year old boy. Full of adventure and clever inventiveness and hunting for all kinds of wild animals and interesting dialogue. He laughs about Mr. Knips and is in awe of their ability to build that wonderful tree house.

Yep, books, kids, and bedtime. That's about as good as it gets.

What happened thirty four seconds ago? I have no idea.

I remember when Isaac was our only little bebe and I remembered everything. I still remember so much about his first few years and I thought that all of my children's childhoods would be forever ingrained into my head. Then I had another child. And I started writing stuff down. Then I had another child. And I learned that if I didn't write it down within thirty-four seconds of its occurrence, I'd never remember it again.

Case in point: Today someone said something really funny. I thought, "ooh, I have to remember that to write it on the blog so I can remember it forever." Then, a few hours later I went back to remember it and I can't even remember which witty kid said it, much less what he or she said. It's bad. Real bad.

Here's what I do remember about today. There are days when I wonder why we homeschoo or if we should continue l. I feel burnt out and I wonder if my kids are getting enough and I want to go to the Post office without an entourage. Then, there are days like today, when I am so ridiculously happy that this is our little path in life and that we get to spend our days together learning and growing and making the world a little more cheerful and singing Christmas songs and fashioning electric guitars out of ramps, string, and tape.

Today was great. And, I'm factoring in an epic Michael's trip during the Christmas season, so you know it was good.

little update

We are home from Michigan after an absolutely spectactular visit. Cousin fun, The Story, critter barn excitement, games, sports, TobyMac concerts in the basement, reading hours spent snuggled on beds with cousins and Judy Moody books, friendship bracelets, and lots of zany laughter. It was good. Relaxing and good.

The drive home was a dream. A ten hour road trip where we only had to stop twice, no one threw a fit or even shed one tear about how long it was taking, and there were no puke scares from our child who may develop carsickness at some point. Once we got home and got the kids tucked in, Jim and I shared our amazement at how smoothly it went.

So, clearly, our kids rock in lots of ways, but we are battling this annoying, exasperated sigh, drop of shoulders, whine that meets almost every request that passes a parental set of lips. Time to wash your hands for dinner. (Sigh, stomp, "why?") Really? Because I asked you to wash your hands?

But, with patience and consistency and modeling of appropriate behavior, we're getting there.

Now we're just doing December stuff like random acts of kindness, Advent bible reading, wrapping gifts, and waiting for Friday when we can hopefully go pick out our christmas tree.