Positive Reinforcement

...hopefully there will be less food on my floor now.

Nature Notebook

For part of our schooling, I have Mr. T keep a daily nature notebook. Basically I kick him outside and have him draw something he sees, write the date and then dictate to me.

His drawings are quick, but the stories behind them are priceless - as is his imagination. Allow me to share:

Wednesday, August 13th
"A hornet was on the gate and I was so scared. I tried to figure out how to get in, but I was too scared."

Thursday, August 14th
"It's the bug's birthday and just one candle and no cake."

Monday, August 18th
"This is a tree. It is right by the forest. I can climb it and then swing from the branches. All the leaves on the tree are green."

Tuesday, August 19th
"It's dark cold dirt. In the early morning the dirt is cold."

Wednesday, August 20th
"We have five caterpillars. All the dots are the poop. The stuff on the bottom is all their food. They are going to turn into butterflies."

Thursday, August 21st
"This is the Reynold's plants. It's too tall. They need to water their plants. Here's the hose."

Friday, August 22nd
"This is the lawnmower with the wheels. This is the long grass."

Monday, August 25th
"I saw a bird almost flying into the birdhouse. The bird was red."

Tuesday, August 26th
"A giraffe. I saw a long neck in the forest. This one had stripes!"

Wednesday, August 27th
"A zebra in the forest."

Thursday, August 28th
"It's fog but you can't see anything, you can just see shapes. All the trees that you think are there are not in the right place cause you can't see them."

Tuesday, September 2nd
"This is clone wars and bats. Annakin, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ahsoka. Bats are nature."

Thursday, September 4th
"Padame, Obi-wan, Annakin, birds. At least I drawed the birds, right Mommy?"

Friday, September 5th
"This is a butterfly on top of a rock."

Monday, September 8th
"I saw cardinals above the clouds. I feel happy when I see them flying."

Tuesday, September 9th
"Levi and Caleb were pulling me up for to get my kitty down."

Wednesday, September 10th
"Birds and me and Justice playing with my whip."

Thursday, September 11th
"I saw a bird in some trees."

Friday, September 12th
"Me going swimming in the lake and some ducks. I was under the ducks: a mommy, daddy and baby duck."

Monday, September 15th
"All the branches fell off of the tree cause a big windstorm."

Tuesday, September 16th
"The blue blue sky and some birds."

Wednesday, September 17th
"I saw a ghost. I thought I was going to pick up my whip, but it was in the front. So I picked up a stick and whacked the ghost - for reals."

Thursday, September 18th
"An airplane was blasting in the sky. It was so cool. It was so tiny in the sky you could hardly see it."

Tuesday, September 23rd
"It rained last night."

Wednesday, September 24th
"The trees with no leaves. An Indian is shooting at the trees."

Friday, September 26th
"Today I went apple picking. I picked 1 apple and I ate it. It tasted sweet and juicy."

A Mother's Self-Esteem

I learned a long time ago never to let a child hurt my feelings. But that doesn't mean a child has no power over my self-esteem. I have encountered two instances recently that have made me feel a bit "uncomfortable" but I'll totally get over any lasting impression. A mother's self-esteem must remain indestructible if she is to mother others' self-esteems. (my own quote!)


Last night I had a child (not one of my own) confront me about a rumor that had been going around. About how my house is always messy and completely gross. I was a bit dumbstruck, as I do make an effort to keep our home clean, but also searched my memory for random drop-ins who may have seen my home at its worst and passed along the information. In the end the child went to check with his source who corrected him about which home it was (not mine), and I admit I felt a bit of relief, though also dread for the family of whom he was continuing to speak (having just experienced the embarrassment myself). I was also embarrassed by the amount of people he announced this in front of - people who have never entered my home, but may now have a picture of its monstrosity in their minds. But, oh well.

definitely NOT MY house :)

Today we were having unstructured arts and crafts time where we pull out all the art supplies (while the baby sleeps) and create. Mr. T is all about this and created a great boat. Little E not so much. I tried to convince him to help me with my project, which he did for a mili-second before running off to play. I called him over again telling him I needed his help to know how to make my art look the best. He pulled one on me and replied, "Mom, I know you'll do your best. Just do the best you can and it will be fine. You don't need my help. I know you can do it." So I sat at the child-size craft table finishing my artwork, feeling both silly and thoughtful over my son's remark. When I finished I of course showed my artwork off to my boys. Mr. T covered his laugh and told me it was nice and I'd done a good job. Little E laughed and laughed and laughed. He asked me if I was really going to hang that one up. I'm not quite sure how to take that. But I think it looks pretty nice and fall-y on our wall!

I need to acknowledge these small attacks to prepare for the inevitable "I hate you"'s of the forthcoming teenage era. I hope to smile and say sweetly, "I love you." (Because I remember how irritating that can be!) For now, my self-esteem is intact, and my artwork is hanging above the dusty coat rack.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Picture this: It is closing exercises in Primary. The last 20 minutes of a three hour block of meetings at church on Sunday where about 65 kids ages 3 to 12 gather in a small room, on small chairs with small attention spans and are expected to sit still and listen to what a few small children have prepared all week. A spotlight child, a talk, a scripture and prayer and a few songs thrown in for good measure. I hate this time. It is always an impossibly loud and crazy time, and I hate that the children are being subjected to a few more minutes of expectations, but I also hate that they are bouncing around while children who have so diligently prepared are whispering their talks in the microphone and nobody can hear what they are saying. This past Sunday was particularly loud (though I find myself thinking that each week) and I was standing at the back of the room wanting to just scream! My friend, and counselor in the Primary Presidency, was conducting and basically talking to herself about whatever announcements there were, since nobody seemed to be listening, let alone facing the front. So, without thinking, I did it. I screamed. Not only did I scream, I screamed continuously jumping up and down, flapping my arms. Of course everyone turned, shocked, to stare at me... but I continued yelling "Ahhhhhhh.... I don't know how to behave in closing exercises... I have so much energy, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do? I keep looking around for some good examples, and I guess this is what I'm supposed to do... ahhhhhhhhh! What should I do?" Someone quietly made a suggestion, "Sit down Sister G." Then another, "Fold your arms, Sister G." I continued to yell. "I can sit down and fold my arms, but I don't know what to do with my mouth or my ears?" A few more voices chimed in, "Shhhhhh... be quiet and listen to the speaker." I bounced to the front of the room. "Okay. I'll just come sit up here quietly with my arms folded and watch you guys to see your good example so I know how to behave. Thank you." Of course they sat still and quiet for several minutes. A true feat. At one point they got loud again and my counselor reminded them, "Shhhh. We don't want Sister G to jump up and down screaming anymore!" No, we definitely don't want that. I'm still shocked that I did such a thing. But it just sort of slipped out. Embarrassing yes (especially since I'm told my skirt was bouncing up and down revealing a little much as well) but not too embarassing. I received a couple of calls from concerned parents who were mostly trying to put together the picture their children were describing, and my kids think I'm just crazy and haven't disowned me yet... so no harm done. It hab the desired effect, I was able to let go and relieve some inner stress and frustration, and if nothing else, closing exercises was a little less boring on Sunday.

Family Home Evening Fun

For Family Home Evening (I capitalize because I think it's important) today, Mr. T was in charge of the lesson. Typically he has us act out his favourite Book of Mormon story of Ammon with all the cutting off of arms and such. Today we had a startling change, and instead we were Nephi's family building a ship! I sat on the couch murmuring (due to a headache) since I was Lemuel... though I was a pretty good Sariah for a while... bossing my boys into doing all the work. The kids were adorable, and in the end we had to cut them off from their play since we had a dinner invitation (and people with four kids never have dinner invitations) otherwise they would have continued playing forever. I love their little costumes, and especially the power tools they used to build the ship. And no, those are not hangers, those are bows; not straws, but a quiver full of arrows. And Miss J, a daughter of Ishmael, is not dumping more dirt on my dirty entryway rug, but gathering water from a well for our long trip at sea. I love these little imaginations, and I love that they love the scriptures.

For Kristy with Love

We did our first family walk for a cause this morning and it was "Breast Cancer Awareness." We had a fun time together, and it was neat to see all the survivors being recognized beforehand aswell - what hope. They each stated how long they have been cancer-free, and it ranged from 20 years to 11 weeks! We started right at the farmer's market where we got some corn for tonight and apples for our walk. I had wanted to do this alone, but it was neat to do it all together... even if it meant the kids giving up sleeping in and Saturday morning cartoons (what a life)! Check out my cute breastfed baby! It was just over a mile, but we came prepared with both a stroller and wagon. Meeting up with friends made it so we hardly used the wagon at all - all that kid energy is contagious. So here's for a cure and at the least, awareness. And sending our friend a big hug as she undergoes chemo.

"Clair Stimbing"

My husband has this uncanny talent of twisting his words around to make them not only adorable, but so believable you sometimes have a hard time remembering how the word (or words) are really supposed to be. This is one of my all time favourites... and seems to go well with our son's fetish of climbing up and down the stairs ALL DAY LONG!

Guess what went through my wash?

... with no damage to either machine or clothing. Though apparently having my children do the sorting may not always be beneficial!

Trick or Treat?

We had a babysitter Saturday night so that I could go listen to my husband speak at a session of our stake conference. He was brilliant and beautiful up there, and though I wished he could also be sitting beside me on our “date,” I’m glad I was able to be there and smile up at him. Our sitter is young, but as the oldest of six kids, she comes with some experience. However, it seems that our daughter, the oldest of four, comes with her own experience and expertise as well. When we returned home at 10pm for a few minutes (to get one of our wallets to go out for a treat) we found our daughter up and watching a movie with the sitter. Our kids go to bed early, so 10pm is like an eternity past her bedtime. Apparently at her bedtime she burst into tears claiming that she missed her parents (hello, when has she EVER missed me?!) Anyways, the easily–manipulated-sitter tried to soothe her and asked what would make her feel better. She replied (and I can totally picture her face and her brilliant mind as she does this), “I think I would feel better if I were watching High School Musical.” Well we sent her off to bed, where she threw a fit and woke the baby and stalled our treat and so she has since suffered the horrible “consequence” of having something she absolutely CANNOT live without taken away for a total of two days. Her best friend. Harsh, I know. I only feel badly for her best friend (though it has been reversed in the past!)

So today, instead of coming home and rushing outside to play with her best friend (as per consequence), my daughter decided that if she were to have all this TIME on her hands, she would need to make a list of what to do. My heart beamed. My daughter was making a LIST – oh glorious and wondrous thing! Today’s list, which I presumed would consist of everything fun we hadn’t forbidden her to do, actually consisted of the following:
4) Do some chores
3) Help with kitchen (it was a wreck by the way)
2) Do homework
1) Do 20 minutes of piano (she only got 10 done this morning)
0) Do list (a girl after my own heart, she actually wrote this down last and checked it off since it was something she had completed)

(she put her list beside my agenda - love it!)
So she completed everything on her list, including making my kitchen sparkle, did her school fundraising, went to gymnastics and had plenty of time to read and go to bed without any complaints (and on time!) I’m thrilled. However, her actions and attitude make me want to punish her more often… she is so happy doing her “list”!

Escaping Reality

Last night I dreamt I was unpacking boxes and boxes in our new home... enjoying the organization and purging and sense of newness and order. (I'm sure this stems from the fact that our friends are doing just that right now.) Next in my dream I was happily painting the walls when all of a sudden my boys turned the hose on in my house and ruined everything. (This, they actually DID yesterday, though they didn't have a new paint job to destroy.) I awoke anxious to move on to our next adventure and home, but also feeling a sense of looming doom accompanying it. Of course it is pouring rain today and I have all my errands to run! I felt quite rebellious leaving my cart in the middle of the parking lot instead of the cart corale (a first for me), and I've just discovered that my one year old likes to play fetch with a stuffed fire truck... apparently I need a little break and am excited for the break that tonight holds for me as I attend a Twilight series book group discussion. There's nothing like indulging in a discussion about vampires to help you escape from reality for a bit.

"They're all mine."

I was watching a few extra kids today while our friends moved, and after doing as much indoor entertaining as possible, and feeding them supper, I decided to take the 5 boys and 2 girls outside. That way they could run more, the lightsabers had more space to swing, and we could all get some fresh air. The park proved a bit trying with the two one year olds, so I buckled the two little ones into the wagon and we went on a walk hunting for bears and spying on the movers. We had a great time, and they are wonderful kids, so really it wasn't that big of a deal for me to be a sole parent with seven children. But time and time again we were confronted with strangers whose eyes were bulging and asking the question, "Are they all yours?" Miss J finally asked me WHY people kept asking that question. I told her it was because I was the only parent with seven children ages 7, 6, 5, 4, 4, 1 and 1 - quite an impossible feat. The questioners always seemed relieved, though still amazed, when I would admit that only four were mine. I thought about how when we read stories together and they all clamored for my lap, how when one cries I automatically reach out and I realized that as a mother and friend to their mother, they are all mine. I love them all. I could never have seven children of my own, but I've mothered many through the years that I will always consider mine.

Perceptions

The other morning my kids were playing “house” – directed, of course, by Miss J. The boys wanted to be puppies as usual, but she would not have it, and finally she convinced them to play their respective Daddy and kid roles. Then came the “laptop” battle. We have a little pretend computer with some games on it – which is never actually used – but has become a favored prop. Mr. T (the Dad) went to get the “laptop” so that he could do his work. Miss J argued that she (the Mom) needed the laptop. Mr. T told her she didn’t work, so she didn’t need it. She replied, “Yes I do work, and yes I do need it. In fact I work harder than you do, so I get to use it first.” The worried father then asked what would happen to their kid if they were both working. Miss J nonchalantly said, “I guess he’ll just have to go to daycare.” They both agreed, and took turns on the “laptop” while Little E was forced to tend for himself.

Yesterday Mr. T was trying to make sense of some scriptural genealogy. So and so was his father and thus so and so’s grandfather… he was actually doing quite well. Then came the missing piece: “how could King Benjamin (from The Book of Mormon) have a son, King Mosiah, and then a grandson, Ammon and there were no Mom’s to have all the babies? Did the Dad’s have babies back then? Does Ammon have a Mom?” The questions hit our peaceful dinner table like bullets. Mr. Man tried to answer each one, as did I… and mostly we acknowledged that there must have in fact been many wonderful mothers that just aren’t written of in the scriptures. He took it all in and then concluded that “I guess they were just too busy.” We had to laugh.

Miss J, on the other hand, has been convinced as of late that being a parent must be the ideal. Nobody to tell you what to do, no homework, no chores (yeah right!) and so on. Her latest comment, “I can’t wait till I’m a Mom and I can do whatever I want with my time and even go on a diet if I want to!” (This stems from me sneaking chocolate or root beer – my two vices – not sharing, and telling her it’s my special diet!)

So apparently my role as mother is either a) completely dispensable b) too busy or c) the ideal dream life. Cast your vote now… apparently perception plays a large role in how we see a person, and also, political candidates.

Step by Step

We acquired a pedometer via cereal box. Since everyone wanted the new prized possession, Mr. Man announced a friendly family competition. We would each take turns wearing it throughout the week and see who took the most steps.
Mr. T: 5060
Miss J: 6125 (though she argues adamantly that it kept restarting and it's an unfair competition anyways, since she's stuck in a chair at school all day)
Little E: 8219 (he stopped at noon, happy to have beat his brother - since that's all that matters at our house... I can't imagine what his score would be in the end... the kid even runs on the spot, never standing still for a moment!)
Mr. Man: somewhere in the 2000 range... he's utterly depressed about this score, though his dissertation is looking good due to all of his sitting in front of the computer!
Me: 8628 - since I'm chasing after all of the above and Baby J who was completely irritated by the mechanism, but managed 200 steps in practically no time at all!

So, who takes the most steps in your family?

Mothermorphosis

So our butterflies have become, as you would say. And the kids were overjoyed to be able to watch the entire process of becoming. Truly magnificent, though a bit unexpectedly messy, but glorious nonetheless. Even the one whose chrysalis has fallen and was placed gently on a soft napkin finally struggled out of the enclosure and joined the other painted ladies. Can you imagine being a creepy crawly caterpillar and then suddenly to have legs, and miraculously, beautiful wings? We have been all about butterflies at our house lately (even studying mummies in Egypt has not been as exciting as the new-birth from the chrysalides)! We wonder if they know what they have become and if they realize their beauty, and how they know what to do with their changed form. How do they know how to fly when nobody has shown them how? It must be in their nature, I suppose. Interestingly, as a caterpillar this exotic creature could not travel far, did not see well, and used its strong jaw to chew leaves. In its newer form, the butterfly can go far distances (once we set them free), has much better vision and drinks nectar through its proboscis. The butterfly’s life span is short, sometimes only a few weeks to a couple of months, and yet they mate as soon as possible and try to distribute their eggs where they will most likely survive before its own life ends. A bit disheartening, but also reminds me of my favourite spider, from Charlotte’s Web. In fact, watching this change, this metamorphosis (which is, by the way, mostly hormone driven), has made me think a lot about motherhood and the beauty of change that it creates in us.


I would like to propose a new term: mothermorphosis. Humor me, I know I can get pretty corny pretty quickly, but still… For ten days we watched our caterpillars eating constantly and growing quickly, spinning silk, keeping busy. Then suddenly they were completely still, hidden within their chrysalides. For nine days we watched and saw nothing happening(in fact, I didn’t even take a single picture of this still stage). It appeared that they were completely stagnant, in fact we worried that the one who had fallen had in fact died, that life had ended. And yet what we couldn’t see was a miraculous transformation, as the caterpillars had metamorphosized (is that a word?) and emerged full of grace and knowledge at how to be this beautiful creature. Now think of mothers. I remember going for a walk with a friend when I was pregnant with my second and pushing my eldest in a stroller, and she asked me what I used to like to do before I was a Mom. I couldn’t answer her. But I went home bothered and made a huge list of who I used to be and what I used to do and called her to answer her question. As mothers, sometimes a lot of who we used to be gets lost or left behind, or we forget that it’s still there, just in a different form or use. At times we feel our lives are stagnant and that we have nothing to show for our days, weeks and months. But few, if anybody, see into our homes and our arms to see what we are really doing with this precious time. Watching Grandmas and empty-nesters, I have no doubt that I too will emerge from this full-time motherhood with extra vision, unaccounted for knowledge, and beautiful earned wings. Mothermorphosis isn’t easy, it is hormonal, and it takes a lot of work to take something so creepy-crawly and expect it to fly, but we as mothers can do it, and we will do it beautifully. It’s in our nature.

Lest I forget

His cyclical fevers are one of the factors that induced our decision to homeschool Mr. T. He and I are on the same cycle, and every 28 days I'm reminded how fragile our bodies are. While chocolate can cure my monthly side-affects, we still can't cure my little boy from his mysterious illness. And yet it could be so much worse. Really, we are so blessed.

I watched the movie "Freedom Writers" last night and was so incredibly moved. Words cannot express the emotions that filled me as I was sucked into the reality that still exists for many. Not only do I feel blessed, but inspired to do and be more and make a difference. It was a shocking film, yet testified of what I have always felt and believed: we are all God's children, and He loves us. Really, we are so blessed.

Premenstrual Syndrome

Last night it hit. I hate that. It depresses me just knowing that it’s gotten a hold of me and won’t let me go and demands to run its course. It’s like giving birth, but the bad part of giving birth, where the labor gets so intense that you feel that you no longer have any control over your own reactions to your own body, and you don’t want to go through it any more. I hate PMS. I hate what it does to my already unstable feminine emotions and trippy temper. I once heard or read somewhere that they wanted to call it Mad Cow Disease, but the title was already taken. I hate to holler defeat when it comes to women and our nobility, but those few days of Probable Mental Sickness where I am an absolute Poor Mother Showcase grant me a big fat loser award each month. My thoughts are awful and negative, and nothing can possibly go right, I get the greens where everyone is better than me and I have nothing at all going for me… not even a silly undergraduate degree – I mean, come on (Possible Meltdown Starting), everyone out there has one of those; they come in the paper towel aisle in WalMart, right? Please Make me Stop! I can’t help it though, I am Pissed, Moody, Sarcastic and a disgrace to myself and womanhood in general. Please tell me you all go through this and hate it and wish that at some point in time a man could suffer through it as well so he could truly understand and then maybe even make it disappear. All right, that’s enough, I need to Pause, Meditate and just Stop.

Sick Mommy and Mummies

I seemed to have caught myself a small stomach bug. Yesterday afternoon I was in the depths of despair, or at least glued to the couch or the toilet seat to throw up. Thankfully the boys played quietly and even did some school work on their own and the baby napped longer than ever expected, which actually made me late for school pick-up. I don’t know what I would have done for the few hours between then and when Mr. Man arrived home had it not been for a loud-mouthed son (who presumably asked his friend’s mom to watch him because his Mama was sick on the couch) and a blessed neighbor who called to confirm and then trucked over all four of my kids to her house so I could sleep soundlessly and not have to rouse my aching body, and unnerve my truly disturbed belly by chasing a curious one-year old around. Thank you. Last night when the aches didn’t cease, but my heaving did, I moaned to my husband that I thought I was dying and couldn’t remember the last time I felt so truly ill. Today has been much better and though my stomach isn’t pleased with my intentions to feed it, and occasionally cramps down and reminds me to behave myself and stay away from anything yummy, I feel weak and managed a little snooze, and I know I’m on the mend. Thankfully. I walked Miss J to and from school today a little more slowly than usual, and I suddenly remembered that it was only a short year ago, that I had hemorrhaged and lost half my blood and was so deliriously weak for weeks on end that I couldn’t manage that walk at all. In fact I had to stop several times just to go up or down my home stairs. Again, I feel so thankful for my good health, even in the stomach-bug recovery stage.

For History today we were reading and discussing about the Upper and Lower Egyptian tribes and especially about the Nile River and the Nile Delta. Mr. T could really understand the concept of the constant flooding due to recent summer happenings in our state. It was interesting to us how the Egyptians learned from the annual flooding and used it to their advantage; from using the silt to plant and then building canals to store water for the dry season. Then of course we had to go outside and build our own model of the Nile River, and then… flood it! The boys had a blast, and I even got my hands pretty dirty (I know you’re shocked Mom!) So we’re learning lots and having fun together. I really thought that I would be a scheduled homeschooler, meaning I would do school at the same time for the same time everyday. I like routines and schedules. But so far, we’ve just found time here and there and gotten through most, if not all, of our daily plans. The boys seem to like having it broken up, and play time here and there throughout the day too. It’s been enough, that even my completely opposed to sitting down and doing anything educational, Little E, has been wandering over and asking to be included in more of our activities and learning. I’m thrilled.

We hit the library tonight and are excited for all the topics we chose to look into. We have several books on butterflies and metamorphosis as we’ve been growing our own caterpillars who have now changed into chrysalides and in a week or so will emerge as butterflies. Remarkably, the baby has been intrigued by these little creatures as well and will often beg to be lifted up to see and will point and watch contentedly for quite a while. Personally, I think he wants to squish them. That’s why they’re up high!

So here’s to health and homeschooling and hoping the two continue to make everyone in our home happy.

(had the include the cute little "squatter"in the dirt with his stick )

Homeschooling Affects Siblings

Homeschooling has given my baby, whom I admit I dote on, more time to play on his own. Here are a few of his talents that he has more time to hone now.

New words this week are, of course, "Oooot" = "shoot" and "Oooon" = "moon" - from his favourite book! We may have another initial consonant omiter!

Also, the four year old needed some incentive to clean and something to occupy his time, so I pulled out an old stray sock that I once upon a time I had big plans to turn into a cute dusting sock. You know, full of pom poms for noses, googly eyes, string hair... instead I told him to draw whatever he wanted, and in the end I had Luke Skywalker helping to clean my house. The great thing, is that I can throw it in the wash and we can draw and dust again next week!!!