Winter Break Coping Skills

This is how I cope with two weeks off of school.

The week before Christmas I toted them off to my parents' house where life is more exciting and loving grown-ups more readily available than at home. Now, for the week after Christmas, our project is regaining control of ourselves. I think some families can do that in a day or two. We need a week.

Since we are in the eight o'clock hour, the boys are playing on their own. They are in the playroom sumo wrestling with pillows stuffed up their shirts and taunting each other with potty words.

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The chalkboard is painted on the wall in our kitchen. I was a little uncertain about whether I would like it but I LOVE IT. Sam is not fond of surprises so posting the day's plans or the dinner menu helps him feel more calm. Sometimes.

We also have their school calendar and classroom schedules for art/music/library posted under the chalkboard, so that wall is a general reference point for questions about what day it is and how long until... and are my library books due today? One of these days they will understand how to figure that out on their own.

Nana and Pop-Pop Christmas

The boys finished school more than a week before Christmas, so we took the opportunity to hit the road and visit my parents for the holidays. It was a GREAT way to spend a week that would have been intolerably slow at home w-a-i-t-i-n-g for Christmas Day. We came home just in time for Christmas Eve with Ben.

At the Zoo

Fifty degrees! Heat wave! Great day to prowl the zoo.

Tic Tac Toe

Owen challenged my dad to a billion games of tic-tac-toe.

Riddle Mania

My mom said they read this riddle book three times. We listened to these riddles the rest of the week.

Math Homework in Kindergarten?!

This video sums up what I most enjoyed about our week: 3 adults for 3 kids, plenty of time for slow-moving fun. Here everyone is doing some kind of math game and SO happy.

Christmas Road Trip

Kentucky Christmas: The boys and I are visiting my parents in Louisville this week. We'll go home before Christmas, but being here reminds me of what Christmas was like before I married Ben and became an upper Midwesterner. It's 50 degrees here. Yesterday we went to the zoo and it seemed like perfect outdoor weather to me, but my dad teased us about going outside when it's so "cold".

When I was in high school my English class was held in a trailer (until the fire dept. said that was hazardous). In the winter my early-morning class complained of the cold and Mr. Walsh told us we weren't cold we were just afraid of death. Your body can handle the cold but your brain is reminded of death, he said. I put on a scarf and adored Mr. Walsh. In my book, eccentricity is an essential element of good high school pedagogy.

 I am eager to visit a bookstore this week, since Borders' bankruptcy means NOT ONE BOOKSTORE within 5 miles of my house. Grrr. Next time you go to the library, spend 5 minutes on It's A Book by Lane Smith. Here's a teaser, ironic edition:

The List is an Anaconda

the endless list
of things to be done--


that no matter how many
I cross off, keeps growing
so that my love says
his tombstone will read
he had more stuff to do.

The list is an anaconda.
The list is a self
perpetuating monster
that gives birth constantly
like a queen ant


sending us workers
scurrying.


{excerpted from The romantic getaway by Marge Piercy}

I am not ordinarily much of a list person. My life does not require it. I will remember to cook dinner and fold laundry and read to children without writing it down and crossing it off.

December is different. This year's Christmas demands listmaking. I haven't "done" Christmas for the last few years. Illness, moves, small children: all more urgent than baking and widespread gift-giving. Last year I remember talking with a friend about choosing gifts for our kids' teachers and I mentioned that I would forgo the obligation because of chemo. "Lucky!" she said. It took both of us a moment to realize it wasn't, actually, lucky.

Because the list is an anaconda.

I have been very excited about Christmas this year, largely because I have the time and energy to do as much as I want. I keep thinking I am near the end of the things I want to do and tomorrow I can skip list making and then Whoomp! there it is.

Here is the beginning of my 2012 New Year's Resolutions:
1. Stop making lists.

Hair!

Owen and I were playing around with my new camera (my old camera met a tragic end when I put it in my back pocket and then fell onto my rear on the sidewalk) and he took this surprisingly nice photo of me.

Check out all that hair!

I think it was just about a year ago that I had it cut painfully short because the chemo caused so much to fall out. Just found it. The photo from January 3 of this year:

Wow. I look a lot healthier now. Every once in a while someone comments on how well I look and I wonder what all the fuss is about. Now I see.

Today I am thanking God for my recovery and to praying for His comfort and care for the people who are spending this holiday with cancer.

Pants on by 8:00

A friend and I were comparing notes about our daily schedules recently. My friend has a young son and a day job, so weekday mornings start early.  I told her that when preschool mom friends ask if I can watch their kids for a few minutes before school I tell them, "I have to go out to the bus stop with Sam and Jude, so I always have my pants on by 8:00 a.m."

This morning is like a recipe for a good day:

6:00 Wake up 30 minutes before alarm. Discuss with self the relative merits of staying in bed or going for a walk.

6:15 Go for a walk.

7:00 Get home to a screaming child in the kitchen and a sleepy child on the steps. Dad is dealing with screamer, so I get the sleeper for a cuddle.

8:00 Put two boys on the bus. Play tickle with boy #3.

8:30 Watch Owen play Northwestern vs. Baylor basketball in the hallway while I shower. (He was reliving an exciting game he saw on Sunday.)

9:00 Deliver Owen for his first time at drop-in playtime program at Bethel. Wrap Christmas gifts ALL ALONE with the music of my choice at the volume of my choice.

Merry Christmas to me!

Owen's Double Facts

Owen is a master of math double facts. This morning I am working at my computer and Owen is harrassing me to quiz him on double facts. We discovered a few weeks ago that he understands the pattern of 1+1, 2+2, 3+3 and it's his favorite party trick.

Now he wants to keep going - 11+11, 12+12, 13+13 - and he gets them right. I can't quite figure out what he's doing, except counting by two's. I asked him if he's counting up two every time and he said, "I don't know. It's just easy."

Kid brains are fascinating.

The photos in this post are sponsored by Owen (his choices).

Holiday Train

This is what we'll be doing on Saturday evening! We used to drive to Sturtevant, WI to see this, but now that we've moved to Gurnee the Holiday Train makes a stop in our own town. Jude told me last night that when you go to the Holiday Train you see the real Santa Claus.

This video is from 2008 and Jude gets about 10 seconds of camera time. I forgot he'd been so well-spoken since he was two years old.

Parenting Brilliance

Most of the time I am unimpressed with my own parenting skills - impatience, repetition, because-I-said-so-ness. But every once in a while I shine. Since my kids never seem to notice said shiny-ness I'll give myself a virtual pat on the back here.

We have quite a few TRIO building blocks, which the boys seem to think are designed only for constructing guns. They stack these in long sections, add a handle and then point them at each other and run around the house shooting. This is ok, on occasion, when everyone is in a good mood. More often it is very, very bad news. When they tried it last week it was the bad news kind of situation.

I tried discouraging words, frowning faces, and strict instructions to put away the offending blocks. My efforts were rewarded with bickering, tearful children.

Enter Brilliant Mom. How about suggesting another use for the blocks? Creativity + competition usually works, so I suggested that we evenly divide the pieces, send everyone to a separate room, and you build something awesome and come show it to me. Sam wanted me to pick who made the "best" creation, but Judge Mom is never a good idea so I offered to take pictures instead.

Jude and his snow machine. It makes snow.

Sam with army tank.

Alien family.

Pretty neat, huh? This worked beautifully for about 20 minutes and then everyone turned cranky again. I don't remember why. I do remember that these lovely children didn't notice Brilliant Mom. Which reminds me to say: Thank you, Mom, for all the creative energy you invested in me when I was 5 years old. I love you!