The Mountain Game

(Keep in mind that we live in the plains of Indiana.)

Benjamin:  Tomorrow we get to see the mountain!

Me: Mountain?  What mountain?

Benjamin:  Tomorrow, we are going to go to Daddy’s work and see the mountain!

Me:  There’s a mountain at Daddy’s work?

Benjamin: YES! And we are going to see it!  Tomorrow!

Me:  Is the mountain inside Daddy’s work?  Or outside?

Benjamin:  Outside! And we are going to see it!!

Me:  What color is the mountain at Daddy’s work?

Benjamin: It is blue!  And gray!

Olivia: Yes!  And we are going to run through it!

Wait for it… Wait for it…

Yeah, I’m not going to tell you what it is.

I want you to guess!  I’ll send a baking mix of your choice to the winner.  Cuz that’s all I’m good for.  Baking mixes.

Cornbread, cookies, banana bread, pizza crust, honey oat bread, pancakes, waffles… anything you’ve heard my mention that I like to bake.  I’ll put the dry ingredients in a mix and give it to you with instructions on how to bake it to perfection.  Oh, and I recently made a pretty decent gluten free cornbread.  And also, all of the above, except the gluten free cornbread, can come as half-whole wheat.

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Could… Could it… Is it Possible? Have I reached a new normal?

Today, for the first time since Levi bounded out of the newborn-I-sleep-all-the-time-and-anywhere-you-put-me phase, I have felt like I know what I’m doing with my day.

I’m not just scrambling around trying to accomplish something, (or giving up and nursing all day on the couch while watching Hulu), I actually have a plan.  A plan I’ve used before.  A plan that has actually worked for the past {gasp} few days!  A plan I like!!

First thing every morning (except Sundays), is Exercise Time.  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I get up at 6:30, do Jillian’s 30-Day Shred.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I get up at 5:30 to run in the bitter cold with an awesome friend.  I even set my alarm for 7:30 on Saturdays to get up and run with a local running club.

Then it’s Get Ready For The Day Time.  I shower, eat breakfast, and read my Bible.  The kids are usually up and eat breakfast with me.  They play while I finish my breakfast and read my Bible.  Then they get dressed and it’s Work Time.

Work Time has been, well, a work in progress for the past couple weeks.  It started around the same time as the Quarter Jar and the kids are getting used to it, finally.  Work time is not optional.  They can’t just forgo their quarter and play instead.  It is a time when everybody works.  If someone refuses to work, they spend Work Time in their room with no toys.  As this is a newly implemented activity, I’m not sure how old Levi will have to be to participate.  Benjamin is almost three and while he doesn’t always like it, he is completely able to partake in Work Time.

After Work Time, it’s School Time.  Olivia and I are 13 weeks (plus a 10 day introductory unit) into My Father’s World Kindergarten curriculum.  There are so many things I love about it, I’ll save that for a post of its own.  Benjamin either plays by himself or does quiet work at the table while we do school.  He usually enjoys the Free Time after Work Time.  Levi is either in his high chair eating a snack or in the sling being cuddly during School Time.

After School Time, it’s Lunch Time.

After Lunch Time, it’s Play Time.  My kids are usually very cooperative and excited after being fed.  It would be a shame to spend that time cooped up in their rooms, so I allow them to run around a bit while I clean up lunch dishes.

After Lunch Time, it’s Quiet Time (and usually around 1:30).  Quiet Time is for nappers and non-nappers alike.  Well, as long as they are over a year old.  I usually try to start Quiet Times as soon as Levi falls asleep or is acting tired, so as to get all three down at the same time.  Quiet Times last either an hour or until you wake up.  Benjamin sleeps everyday still; Olivia hasn’t slept in ages.  They both get to take toys to bed to play with, but they must be QUIET.  Especially Olivia, as she has Quiet Times in our bedroom, which is also where the crib is.

Benjamin usually doesn’t wake up until around 4pm, whereas Olivia is out after her hour is up, around 2:30.  She is very talkative during this time.  She plays by herself, asks me questions, wants to play games on the computer, wants to watch movies, wants to read books… she’s all over the place during this time.

Levi usually only sleeps about 20 minutes by himself before waking up and wanting to continue his nap with me on the couch.  I usually watch a bit of Hulu, since I can’t nap due to the talkativeness. :-) Any blogging I do is done during that initial 20 minutes of Levi Nap Time.  Or, if I’m making a crock pot meal, during Gotta Get Ready For Dinner Time.

When Benjamin wakes up, it’s Snack Time.

Then it’s Gotta Get Ready For Dinner Time.  Which goes by a couple other names as well, such as Everybody Goes Crazy Time and Nobody Gets Along Time.  Oh, and the ever popular Levi Doesn’t Want To Be Put Down Time.

Then it’s Dinner Time when the Daddy gets home around 6:30.  Sometimes.  Other times, it’s Now I Can Finally Start Dinner Time.  Which pushes Dinner Time to some pretty extreme times.  Oops.

Then it’s Kids Go All Hyper With Daddy Time for most of the household while I participate in the Great Nightly Debate.  Should I go with Dishes Time?  Or Feet Up On Coffee Table Time?  Depends, usually, on how Gotta Get Ready For Dinner Time went.

Then, when the kids stop getting along and the crying belies the hour, it’s Bed Time.

Then it’s Mommy And Daddy Crash On The Couch Time.  Levi wakes up periodically to be nursed back to sleep.  He spends a lot of this time unconscious in our laps just so we don’t have to keep getting up to get him.

And that’s my day!

What’s your schedule look like?

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The Quarter Jar

We’ve implemented a Quarter Jar to compliment our Marble Jar.  The Marble Jar is for Random Acts of Kindness as well as a random boost for everyday obedience.  When the jar is full, we make frosted sugar cookies.  (I know, reward them with food and they’ll be on the Biggest Loser someday.  Oh well.)  The Quarter Jar is a reward system for their chores.

Not that their chores are suddenly optional.  We have a Work Time every morning after breakfast and before school.  They either do their chores or spend Work Time in their rooms with no toys and don’t get lunch until their work is done.

The Quarter Jar mainly exists because I needed a way to justify giving them more toys.

Not that they need them.

However, with a love language of gifts, it kills me to only be able to buy toys for each child two times per year.  And buying a toy without a reason wasn’t working very well.  They would ask (and by “ask” I mean “whine”) for a new toy whenever we passed a toy section in the grocery store.  (And sadly, that includes the check-out lane which is completely unavoidable.)

They didn’t understand the pattern (because there wasn’t one) to when they could have a toy and when they couldn’t.  So I wanted a system they could count on to tell them this.  And, bonus, with this system, they can’t blame me when they don’t have the money to buy the toy.  It’s not like I don’t have enough chores for them.

Plus they get to learn about the concept of money.  About working hard to earn it, and planning wisely on how to spend it.  And how, when it’s gone, it’s gone.  Oh, and, of course, how to count it.

There are three jars in the Quarter Jar system.  One pint mason jar for each child and a large one for the Bank Jar.  The Bank Jar contains at least four quarters per child and a nice wad of one dollar bills.  When a child accrues four quarters, they get to change them in for a dollar bill.

Each child has made a trip to the toy section and knows exactly what toy they are working toward and how much money they need to earn to buy it.  When we go grocery shopping, we put their money in an envelope just for them and I hold it for them.  If the toy they were saving for is the right price (and we’ve experienced price increases, sadly), then they get to give their money to the cashier themselves and take their new toy home!

Perhaps it’s not a perfect system and some flaw with the plan will develop later and I will learn from my mistakes.  But it’s working right now.

Olivia (who is four) has the following chores:

  • folding laundry (1 quarter per load)
  • putting laundry away (1 quarter per load)
  • fetching water in a pitcher from a bathroom (the kitchen water isn’t soft and is orange with rust) for the gallon brita system in the fridge (1 quarter)
  • picking up an dirty room in the house (1 quarter per room, and it has to be “dirty enough” to warrant the quarter)
  • unloading the dishwasher and stacking plates and bowls on the counter for me to put them away (1 quarter)

Benjamin (who is two) has the following chores:

  • sorting socks (1 quarter per load)
  • sorting cloth diaper paraphernalia (we have three different inserts to sort through based on size and use) (1 quarter)
  • putting away clean silverware (1 quarter)
  • picking up a dirty room in the house (1 quarter per room)
  • putting away his own clothes after Olivia folds them (1 quarter)

Levi gets no quarters.

They do not, by any means, do all these chores every day.  We’d go broke.  They probably earn about $0.50 per day.  Olivia, sometimes more.  And I now fold approximately two loads of laundry every week instead of ten.  I’m liking the Quarter Jar!

Do you have a similar system?  Tell me about it!

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Levi. The Child Who Gets Into Everything.

Levi, in case you couldn’t tell by the title of this post, gets into everything.  He’s been crawling since Christmas.  He’s been pulling himself up ever since he was able to crawl over to a worthy piece of furniture.  Or pant leg.  Or unworthy piece of furniture which collapses, falls, or flips under his 20 pounds.

He is very inquisitive and desires very strongly to explore every possible thing.  With his mouth.

Just today, I found him with dried kidney beans in his mouth.  After investigating further, I found a bag of kidney beans in the kitchen that he had stolen from the pantry and ripped open with his teeth*.

Right now is a rare quiet time where the older two are sitting on top of their desk with their books, reading.  They have to sit on top of furniture to keep their precious paper products away from the papervore.  (Papervore. Noun. A child with a diet of mostly paper.)  Levi,  having not realized what the other two are up to, is pulling all his baby toys out of their basket one by one and sucking on each before reaching for another.  This is rare because he normally does not want to have anything to do with baby toys, usually preferring, well, paper.

Perhaps he’s finally pulled down and digested all the paper within arm’s reach.  Gone are the art project on the fridge.  Torn are the achievements hanging from the walls.  Hidden are the bills I mean to pay yet keep forgetting about because I don’t think to look behind the picture frames…

Uh oh.  He’s pulled himself up to the desk.  This could be bad.

I’ve had to tape two separate library books back together in the past week because of this little boy.

At least he’s not trying to pull all the keys off the laptop.  Which is his usual habit as soon as I pull it out.

I spend most of my day holding him because he has to be where the action is and the action is constantly moving. He gets so frustrated when I go from room to room collecting laundry or putting away the random toys I find.  He crawls as fast as he can to catch me, just to have me pass him by to complete another task in yet another room.  He turns and follows only to have the pattern repeat.  I run from task to task as quickly as I can, then scoop him up in my arms when I’m done and apologize for playing hard-to-get.

It can be frustrating.  But then Josh comes home, sees his antics, and declares this age to be the absolute best.  And then I sit and watch Levi walk himself around the coffee table over to the exercise ball, and gleefully laugh while repeatedly bouncing his head off the ball and I have to admit it.  He’s right.

*Levi has spent the past month or so sprouting four top teeth.  At the same time.  They are all officially in.  Not all the way, but the “cutting” stage is FINALLY complete.  So his grand total is six when you add the two on the bottom.  He’s looking more like a toddler everyday. Sigh.

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A Family, Reunited

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Aunt Sassa came all the way from Australia just to feed my baby.

Shannon looks bored with Trey.

Olivia drinks milk.

The Daddy gets swallowed up by light.

Levi ponders the meaning of life.

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Olivia is impressed with herself from nabbing the last doughnut hole.

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“You’re really going to eat that?  For breakfast?  Is that how I raised you?”

Or rather…

“If I had your metabolism, I’d be eating that, too….”

(Olivia, in the meantime, still celebrating her doughnut hole victory.)

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Somewhere, there exists a picture of me.  Taking a picture of Ashton.

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Inventing the rhythm that will be played to Your Love is Extravagant on April 6th in Hawaii.  Be there.  Or be painfully un-tan.

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The Patriarch.  Josh’s grandpa.  Or Opa.  Cause he’s German like that.

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No, Opa, I got your nose.

Or perhaps,

So that’s where my nose came from.

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The Matriarch.  Josh’s Great-Grandma.

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You’re a hefty boy, aren’t you?

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Taking a picture of Melissa is a delicate art.  I have not yet mastered it.

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He DOES do dishes!  His grandma (or Oma) looks on in astonishment.

And as this post has already taken me three days to complete, I think this is a nice breaking point.  I’ll take the next three days to work on the Bridal Shower part of the weekend.

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I Now Officially Have Three Children.

For the first six months, I really didn’t see much of a difference.  It still felt like I only had two children.  And this warm fuzzy little clingy immobile thing that slept a lot.

But somewhere around Christmas (yeah, about when I stopped posting regularly) he became a Children.  He crawls.  Pulls himself up.  Cruises along furniture.  Eats the other children’s toys.  Causes trouble.  Needs constant supervision.  Eats paper.  Chews on cords.  Unplugs my laptop so he can attempt to electrocute himself with the cord.  Attacks the laptop when it’s left on the coffee table (a.k.a. my desk).  Doesn’t know the meaning of the word, “No.”

And, to top it all off, he’s cutting four top teeth (already has the bottom two) at the same time.

So he’s a little needy.

And he’s eating real food. So there’s the preparation, feeding, and cleaning up of THAT.

And diaper changes now take a lot out of me as he screams, twists, and kicks his way through them.

To be sure, I am enjoying him.  Dishes and laundry and dinner don’t all get done with they should.

But I’m enjoying him.

I may hand him to his Daddy as soon as he steps into the door.

But I’m enjoying him.

I’m thinking of all kinds of posts to write.  I haven’t forgotten you.  I have several half-finished ones in my drafts folder.  But it’s hard when your flow gets interrupted every three minutes.

I’ll try harder.  I’ll be less perfectionistic about whether my posts have good points or spelling.  And I’ll try to care less how meticulously I edit my pictures before posting.  So that I can just post something.  Anything. I need to remember these times, after all!

Well, that’s the sound of Levi getting into the dishwasher, so off I go again!

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All Things

Yesterday, I was a horrible Mommy.  Yesterday, I had horrible children.

And I was so mad at God about it, I didn’t speak to Him all day.

He kept trying to talk to me.  But I turned a cold shoulder.

He can do all things, why wasn’t He making me a better Mommy?  Why wasn’t He making my children better children?

I was miserable and distracted myself with the Internet.  Breaking the promise I’d made to stay offline until my Bible was read.

The day was over; I took two Tylenol and went to bed.

I woke up this morning.  Josh had already left.  The children were already awake.  I took no shower and ate breakfast while feeding three other mouths as well.  My headache echoed dimly in the recesses of my skull.

But I didn’t want yesterday.  Yesterday was a cold, horrible day, distant from God.  I kept my laptop off.   I took whatever uninterrupted time I could get (in groups of 3-5 minutes) and read two chapters in Luke.

I prayed for my children.  I prayed for myself.

And suddenly, my children don’t seem so horrible.

Did they change?  Did I change?  Did God give me His eyes through which to see them?

I’m not sure.  But I know this now:

God can do all things, but He prefers I do them through Him.

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All or Nothing

I’ve figured something out about myself recently.  I have an “all-or-nothing” attitude.  And I’ve got it bad.

When I blog, for example, it’s all or nothing.  Either I blog everyday or I don’t blog ever.

I show loyalty towards brands and stores in the same fashion.  I’m very into Leapfrog and will trust (and want!) anything they throw my way.  I only shop at Old Navy.  I know I can get good sale prices there, use great coupons there, find great styles there, and I don’t need to try anything on before buying.

Either I cook everything from scratch or I give up and eat out entirely too much.

When we first switched to cloth diapers, woe to the person who suggested using a disposable for any reason.  (I’m better now.  Four years later.)

And when I eat.  When I eat?  I eat it ALL.

Especially sweets.  If there are any sweets in the house, I can come up with the best reasons on why I deserve to eat them.  Every five minutes.

To reward myself for some mundane task.  To compensate myself for some child-related frustration.  To soothe myself when my husband is working overtime.  To entertain myself when I can’t find anyone online to talk to.

I can’t find the line to draw when it comes to sweets.

And if I’m going to get into a swimsuit come April 2nd, when we arrive in HAWAII for Josh’s sister’s wedding, I’m going to need to find a line.

So, since “all” got me into the mess, I’m leaning on “nothing” to get me out.

That’s right, I’ve given up sweets.  I gave them up on January 1st and it’s been easier than I expected.

I passed out the remainder of the holiday treats I slaved over without partaking of any.  I helped a friend make cupcakes for her birthday party and I didn’t lick a single spoon.  I then went to that birthday party, picked out cupcakes for my children and Josh and delivered them completely intact.  I’ve watched Josh dish up Edy’s ice cream to the children more times in the past month than I care to count, but the most I ever had was yogurt.  And not the frozen kind.

And I think the biggest reason I’ve been successful thus far is pure stubbornness.  I told myself I wasn’t having any sweets ever.  Not one.  And like cloth diapers, I won’t let myself go back.  I know that having one piece of candy won’t hurt me, but it will destroy my will.

Also, I thought through the entire year before making the decision and envisioned what it would look like to live a year without sweets.  I mentally lived through every birthday that I would make a cake for, every holiday I would pass up pie at, and the wedding where I would avoid eye contact with a certain multi-tiered masterpiece.

I know it’s possible.  I’ve seen it done.  Josh’s youngest sister gave up sweets on New Years Day a few years back and after her year was up, she had defeated her sweet tooth to such an extent she has continued on to this day in that fashion.

So I’ll be sitting next to her at Melissa’s wedding, come April.  We’ll be the ones looking awesome in our dresses as the cake passes by us untouched.

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Mommy Growth

As I lay here on the floor, a stuffed tiger at my right arm and a deserted castle by my right leg, a baby crawls over me.

I don’t think I ever just laid on the floor with Olivia.  I didn’t know what to do with a baby and was too proud to admit it.

I knew how to cuddle her, feed her, put her to sleep, comfort her, and love her.  I just didn’t know how to play with her.

Not to mention the fact that I had other things I wanted to do with my day, and laying on the floor with a baby wasn’t on the list.

Now I relish the time when I can stretch out on the floor.  Just lay my head down and exhale.  And listen for the panting baby breaths to grow near.  Feel those hands on my legs.  Hear those baby giggles.

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We Have a New Van

When we added our third carseat, we got our first van.  Josh’s family was kind enough to trade us their caravan for our sedan.

We loved that van.

Sure, those Missouri roads had long ago stolen all four hubcaps.  And my two-year-old had not-so-long ago stolen the rear view mirror.

(He’s no longer allowed to play loose in the van.)

But we loved that van.

It had stickers in the windows.

(Not as many as the sedan had - did you ever got those off, Gammy and Pop Pop?)

But we loved that van.

We took that van to my mom’s house for the holidays.  It snowed there.  A good six inches.  They live at the top of a steepish hill.

We loved that van.

We tried to get you up that hill, Van.

And we know you tried, too.

We’re sorry.

We would also like to apologize to the stump.

That stump will never be the same.

But it was minor damage, really.

Until we went down again the next morning to get you with a tractor.

Maybe we should have waited for the ice to thaw a bit.

Oh, well.

We loved that van.

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