What a Bargain!

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Okay, I'll admit it....I am not above bribing my eldest daughter to actually sleep at naptime. There are several days out of the week where she does not take a nap, but anytime Mommy is tired or we've done a lot and I know she is tired, it becomes a requirement. Honor has gotten the routine down. She uses the restroom, washes her hands, climbs under the covers of Mommy's bed (Ariana won't sleep if she is in her own room), gets comfy, then turns to Mommy and makes her request, "If I take a nap, can I...?"

Usually it is something easily acquiesced to...such as "can I play outside?" or "can I read my princess book?", etc. Occasionally I will have to say, "no", but that is very rare.

Here was today's request.

Honor was sitting on the toilet, looking up at me with her big brown eyes, dimple pulled out for good measure.

"Mommy, if I take a good nap, can I clean the bathtub?"

I wiped a tear from my eye as I responded, "Yes, Baby. You can clean the bathtub...but only if you take a REALLY good nap."

...she is sleeping as I type...



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>>> TWO HOURS LATER<<<


Honor sits up and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. From the corner of my eye, I watch as she places her legs over the side of the bed and slides out onto the floor. She marches groggily into the bathroom.

"Watcha doin?" I ask.

She yawns. "Just going to clean the bathtub."

I hear her pick up the scrub brush that I used clean the bathroom floor. I hear the swish of a brush moving back and forth four times.

Honor comes back into the room and announces, "All done. Now may I have some candy?"


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Cleaning Up Toys

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Moms tell us that cleaning up messes has a way of helping a child learn that it is easier not to make the mess in the first place, or at least to make it a smaller one. The child soon experiences firsthand that he reaps what he sows: big mess equals big cleanup time...

"Managers of Their Chores: A Practical Guide to Children's Chores"
page 28

Maybe my kids should read this book...

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Can't See the Cows for the Fly

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Sitting at the breakfast table...

Daddy: "Samuel, what's that?"

Samuel: "A bug." (There was a fly on the window)

Daddy, chuckling: "No, Samuel. What is out there?"

Samuel, as if Daddy was a bit crazy: "A bug."

Daddy: "No. They're cows."

Samuel, matter-of-factly: "Nope. It's a bug."

Daddy starts laughing.

He came up with a plan to get Samuel to see beyond the glass.

Daddy: "Look! Big Bird!"

Samuel: "Where!"

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What Does the Bible Say?

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A common question around my house is, "What does the Bible say about kindness?" Typically it is Connor who responds first, "Be kind one to another!" and then he attempts to show kindness to his siblings...or so I thought.

Last night, while cooking dinner, we had a picturesque family moment. All four kids had pushed their chairs up around the kitchen island and were "helping" Mommy by pouring pre-measured ingredients into the skillet and pot. Daddy was standing next to the kitchen table, enjoying watching his family.

Then the fight over who got to hold the instant potatoes pouch began. Daddy quickly grabbed the pouch, fearing that his precious potatoes might get spilled.

"It's okay, Honey," I said smugly. Turning to the kids, I put on my best lecturing tone, "Kids. I thought you were big enough to help me in the kitchen, but I am not seeing any kindness. If you can't show kindness to each other, then no one will get to pour the pouch in." And I put the pouch back in the middle of the island.

There was an immediate response. Honor smiled sweetly at Ariana, "I love you, Ariana!". Connor smiled at Honor, "I love you, Honor". Ariana picked up the pouch and handed it to Connor, "here you go, Connor." In their minds, they figured that the child that was the kindest would be the one to pour in the potatoes.

I turned back to the stove, happy in the kids' silence.

Suddenly that silence was broken by Daddy yelling, "No! Knock it off! You can't help Mommy anymore. Get downstairs!" and he "escorted" them kicking and screaming down to their playroom.

What???

When he came back upstairs I questioned him about it. "What was that all about? They weren't hurting the pouch. They couldn't get it open without scissors. I don't understand."

Daddy looked at me, still miffed at the kids. "It wasn't the pouch. While your back was turned, I watched Honor squeeze Connor's arm, and Connor pinch Ariana, who turned around and squeezed his arm. They were being quiet so you wouldn't hear them."

Aw.

Well, at least they were working together...

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I Want, I Want, I Want

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There are certain values that I want to instill in my children--okay, there really is a long list of values that I want to instill in my children--but topping that list is the value of giving and serving others. I want them to be thankful for the gifts they receive (which, in general, they are...except for that one time...which Honor was later abundantly thankful for and bragged about), and I want them to enjoy giving to others from their heart.

However, toy manufacturers feel it is their responsibility to destroy any effort on my part to teach a spirit of giving...unless I intend to give my children everything in their catalogs. Somewhere down the line, various toy stores/manufacturers discovered that I have four children and they began sending us catalogs. It was innocent enough at first. I actually like Fisher Price and so their catalogs helped determine some of the toys we got for our kids. But we now have to hide the mail the moment we walk in the door.

It started with Connor. "Mommy, I really like batman, and geo tracks, and legos, and astronauts, and power rangers, and superman..." (you get the idea)

"Well, Son. That is nice that you like all those things, and God has blessed you with many wonderful toys. Instead of thinking about all the things that you want to have, why not think about the things that you can give to others?"

"I think that Samuel likes batman too. Maybe we could get him the batman toy and maybe we could teach him to share it with me..."

Nice try, Son.

Then the JC Penney's catalog came in the mail. That one never made it to the kitchen table, but somehow Ariana found it in one of our unpacked boxes in our room.

"Mommy, I want the princess castle!"

I didn't even bother with explanations. "That's nice, Dear. Now give Mommy the catalog." Amazingly enough, the catalog was found by the garbage men a few days later. How did that get in there???

This evening Daddy went over to our old house to check the mail. He returned home with a pile of unforwarded mail...one of which was an American Girl catalog. Let me tell you, we've gotten these before and I have always been very diligent about removing these from the pile before I even entered the house--I do not want to open that can of worms. (Besides, these dolls scare me...don't ask.) But Daddy is not quite as diligent.

As expected, Honor pounced on the "pretty dolly magazine!".

"Mommy! I want this little girl."

"Honor, you already have several pretty dollies."

She silently read through her magazine some more.

"Mommy, I think it would be wonderful to have this outfit so I could match my dolly."

"That would be nice. Maybe when Mommy learns how to sew, I can make an outfit for your dolly."

That pacified her for a few minutes.

"Mommy. Just one more thing. I think I would like to get all of these for my dolly."

"That would be nice. Do you have the money to buy all that?"

"Nooo! Quit teasing!"

"I'm not teasing. I don't have the money to buy all that, so I figured you must."

She groaned and thought about it for a minute.

"Okay. Then I only want this one thing for my dolly."

I just laughed out loud at her "one thing"...a miniature TV and remote control for her dolly. Yeah. Like that would ever happen.

Sigh.

Perhaps tomorrow we can work on the value of money...

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You Just Have to Hear It

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There is nothing cuter than hearing a 2-year-old boy say, "mmm. mmm. mmm. This hot dog is delicious!"

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Limited Exposure

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There's a sure-fire way to tell when my kids have been spending an unbalanced time in one activity or another. Begin limiting their exposure to that activity.

Yes, my kids are normal...they will complain when they no longer get to do their newest favorite activity, but it is what they do after that shows me they've truly been spending too much time there.

For example...

Wii Mario Party 8

Two days after I stopped letting them play this every day, I walked into the front room and they had "built" their own. They took their cardboard blocks and made a game board with it. Then they took their little Donkey Kong figurine they got from some kid's meal a long time ago, and made it into the ending spot. They threw their fists in the air like they were hitting pretend dice and moved their little people figurines around the game board.

It's a good thing Grandma spent all that money on their birthday present... who needs to play with the toy when you can play with a box?


TV

Because of the move, my kids have watched a whole lot more TV than they've ever really done before. What can I say? Grandma was right when she called it the electronic babysitter and I had a lot of packing and unpacking to do.

I have once again removed morning TV (except yesterday when the ADT guy came over and they were trying to follow him around the house...TV helps).

Today at the breakfast table, my older three were making up theme songs for their toys. ♫ "It's the pink rabbit, Hop, It's the blue rabbit, Hop, It's the yellow rabbit, Hop, It's the purple rabbit, Hop! Together they work together to save people. Yeah! Let's Go Rabbits!" ♫



Yes. My kids have imaginations. Perhaps I should begin limiting their exposure to nuclear physics...

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Can You Say Cranky?

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For the last few days, I have been opting out of naps with Honor so that I can get some work done. Honor usually only needs a nap when we've been doing a lot of walking in the morning, and since the majority of my mornings the last two weeks have been spent unpacking and cleaning, she hasn't had too much exertion, thus the nap has been unnecessary.

I think she may have needed one today. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes from bedtime this evening (most of which were said in a wailing voice):

Honor: What are we going to do in the morning?

Mommy: I don't know. Maybe read some books and play.

Honor: No! I will never read books and play ever again!!!

(She wanted to hear something along the lines of either a. going somewhere or b. watching Angelina Ballerina, her new favorite show that we found on Netflix and has been a lifesaver when it comes to unpacking. But today we found out that we get the Smile of a Child network for free on regular tv...I am so excited!!!)

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About ten minutes after I put the kids to bed, Daddy heard some screaming downstairs. As usual, Mommy was called upon to investigate.

Mommy: What is going on?

Ariana was lying in her bed, humming.

Honor: Ariana won't stop making noise. I told her to stop, but she wouldn't stop! And she's making so much noise that I can't smell my blankie!!!

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"My Mouth Hurts"

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We stayed home from church today--the first time in a long time. It started yesterday with Connor needing three breathing treatments (we are going to get a second opinion about his "no allergy" verdict--I'm not buying it!). I told Daddy that he should stay home with Connor today and I would go in since we were scheduled for nursery. Daddy's allergies have been really bad too, so I figured he could use the extra rest.

This morning, Samuel came into our room with a stuffy nose. I suggested that he should stay home too, even though he wasn't all that sick, I didn't want to risk infecting someone else. About 20 minutes later, Honor started screaming. I went down to her room and made it just in time to see her vomit. Ariana wasn't far behind. When Connor woke up, he showed me where he had vomitted in the night as well. Nice.

Thankfully, once the girls (and Connor) had lost it, they seemed fine. All four children obediently laid down on the couch in their pajamas and watched tv all morning. We actually got some stuff done.

Around noon, the kids told me they were hungry. I had given them a couple of crackers throughout the morning and they seemed to be holding their own, so I made up a nice batch of chicken noodle soup. That's when it all went south.

Honor found a piece of bread on the table and took a bite. "OUCH!!! The bread hurt my mouth!!!" She then began screaming histerically. Believe me, I had no idea what to do.

"What do you mean your mouth hurts? Do you mean your throat? What part of your mouth hurts?"

"Noooooooooo!!! My MOUTH hurts! See! Right there!!!" she wailed, pointing at her mouth. There was nothing there and her throat looked fine. She continued, "The raisin juice this morning made my mouth hurt!!!" (Raisin Juice = Grape Pedialyte)

"Honey, I don't think the juice hurt your mouth. Drink some water. That will make you feel better."

She obediently drank some water.

"It didn't work!!!!!!!"

I went to the kitchen and thanked Daddy for remembering to pack the childrens motrin. I gave her some medicine.

"It's not any better!!!!!"

"Give it a second, Honey. Why don't you try some soup...that might make you feel better."

Thankfully, she calmed down a little. Instead of simply wailing irrationally, she decided to try to figure out why her mouth hurt.

"I must have swallowed a cat."

Yep. That's probably it.

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Lessons I Learned on Our First Day Living on a Farm

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Okay...technically it is not a farm--we have only three animals (none of which are considered "farm" animals), and I have not yet started my garden--but it is 5.3 acres of pasture land smack dab in the middle of the "country", smack dab in the middle of the "city"....it's pretty nice.

Also, technically it has been about a day and a half--we moved our beds in yesterday and I dropped the kids off with grandma (THANK YOU GRANDMA!!!!) around 2ish so that I could help unpack and get things settled before we all spent the night and it is around 1 am the following day--but who's really counting???

Well, without further ado, here are the lessons I've learned:

Roosters crow at midnight--I had no idea. I knew they didn't just crow at sunrise, but midnight...really??? Mommy silently strikes "rooster" off the list of animals to incorporate into the family farm.

Fire alarms work even without being hooked up-- with the battery removed--really. Just ask Daddy. I woke him up around 3 am last night because I heard a loud beeping noise. We went to investigate together and found the culprit to be a fire alarm that we had thrown willy nilly into the bottom of the hall closet until Daddy could get around to putting a new one up. Daddy quickly removed the battery...and the alarm kept beeping. Can you say "freaky"??? Eventually the scary smoke alarm stopped beeping and we went back to sleep. Which leads me to the third lesson:

Curtains prevent small children from waking up 2 and a half hours before normal-- I know I have said multiple times that once I move into my "new house", I will start waking up with the sunrise, but I have decided that I want to ease into this...on a day when I went to bed before midnight and did not get woken up by a random fire alarm in the middle of the night.

Try as they might, children cannot whisper--After waking up 2 1/2 hours earlier than normal, I begged my darling daughters to try to be quiet so that they didn't wake up their brothers so that Daddy and I could attempt to ease into our early morning. They tried. Really, they did. I will give them a "D" for effort.

Water pooling in the ceiling of a freshly painted bedroom makes a nice balloon shape--yep...we've already had our first water line leak. I went down to the girls' room to unpack a box of their clothes only to find a giant water bubble dripping onto the freshly laid carpet. Daddy ripped the ceiling down to find that, not only had the ceiling been patched before (not very well apparently), but there was a bit of mold growing there. Nice. He followed the leak up to the laundry room, ripped open another hole in the wall and figured out that the water had been leaking very slowly from the washing machine valve since we first turned the water on to the house. Thankfully Mommy is married to the handiest husband around and he quickly replumbed the pipes. He would have repatched the wall and ceiling also, but his dad reminded him that the house insurance covers that so he opted to wait over the weekend and have a professional do it to save us a small amount of money.

A thoroughly sanitized jacuzzi bathtub feels wonderful after a grueling day of packing and unpacking--once you can get past what the tub used to look like and force yourself to relax. Yes. VERY nice.

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I Hear Music

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In the move, Daddy found his old Guitar Hero guitar that doesn't work anymore so he let the kids play with it. Most of the kids just played with it, but Ariana sang along with her pretend song. A future songwriter in the making...

♫ ♫
I love Mommy!
She is a precious girl

I love Mommy!
She is so beautiful!

I love Mommy!
She is a precious girl

I love Mommy!
The big, bad girl

I love Mommy!
The pre-cious girl

And I am precious too...

I love Mommy!
The pre...cious...GIRLLLLLLL

I love Mommy!
She is my favorite.
She is my favorite.
She is my favorite.

The precious girl.

Rock and roll!

♫ ♫

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Camping Highlights

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Daddy and Connor went on their yearly church men/boys campout. Here were the highlights that I, as a mere woman, was given.

Giant Bruise

Connor returned home with a giant, softball-sized/shaped bruise on his thigh. When asked how he got this perfect blue circle on his leg, I was told that Connor felt the need to chase all the boys that were twice his size as they rode their scooters around the big circle. Apparently, there are a lot of rocks in the area. Small child running faster than his little legs should go = fall on rocks and big bruise. Did he cry? "Yes. Until I got to him. Then he was fine. He was more upset when I told him he couldn't chase the boys anymore."

BB Gun

My son is five years old. Despite what other people may do, I never felt the need to encourage my five year old to shoot a gun. So when my husband started packing his BB gun and target trap, I asked a very logical question, "What do you think you are doing?" His answer wasn't quite so logical, "I'm going to teach Connor how to shoot a BB gun." My response wasn't very submissive, "No. You. Are. Not." It was then that my husband looked at me like I was the crazy one. "Honey. Lots of the guys bring their guns. This is just a BB gun. The worst thing that could happen would be he shoots his eye out." And he grinned at me like he thought it was all a big joke. HA. HA. HA. "Fine. But if he gets hurt, I will shoot YOU with a BB and see how YOU like it." As usual, it turns out I was worried for no reason. Connor isn't all that big. I was told that he couldn't hold the gun by himself or pull the trigger by himself...and after having Daddy shoot it in his hands a few times, he lost interest and went and played with the other boys. Oh well...there's always next year to turn him into a little soldier...

Potty Humor

What's a men/boy's retreat without learning to talk "like a boy"? Of course, this was a church retreat so the talk wasn't that bad, but Mommy is sensitive to talk about bodily functions--it's just not done. So after several repeats of his new favorite joke--basically adding the word "butt" after every sentence and laughing his head off--and his new found amusement in burps and flatulence, Mommy about had it. Even Daddy had to tell Connor, "Son, you are going to get me in trouble! If you keep talking like that, I'm not going to take you next year." It took a day or two, but he has finally stopped the potty humor. **sigh**

Roughhousing

Two days straight of roughhousing with boys who are the same age as him, but twice as big. Enough said.

The McDonald's Toy

For some reason, the guys always seem to feel the need to eat lunch at McDonald's on their way home...and to grab the toy. This year's toy was a "transformer ball"...that's what Connor calls it. Mommy calls it the "annoying toy that all the kids want to 'share' and Connor doesn't want them to have...and falls apart every time they drop it so that Mommy has to constantly turn it back into a ball" toy. It might just get lost in the move...

Father/Son Bonding

This came from our pastor. "Your boys had a great time. Connor absolutely had a blast and they had some wonderful bonding experiences. None of the boys wanted to leave." Thanks for sharing that pastor...otherwise I would have had no idea. You see the kind of information that they share with me...

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The Dog Locked Us Out

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Yes. I'm serious. Our dog locked us out of the house today.

See, Daddy took Connor on a Men/Boys church campout this weekend, so I decided to do something "special" with the other three and walk up to Subway for lunch--we haven't done that for a while and the weather was BEAUTIFUL today. Well, Daddy took our truck which has our house key on it--the other house key is on his mustang keys which is being borrowed by a friend of ours.

No big deal. We have an alarm on our house, so I set that and left the door unlocked. I could hear Jasmine panicking inside (She has had minor panic attacks when we leave since DeJour died--it's worse when I leave separate from Daddy...like today), but we went ahead and left anyway, figuring eventually she would calm down.

Fast forward nearly 2 hours.

I tried to open my door, and the dead bolt was locked. Impossible. At first I thought my neighbor must have come over and locked the door, but they would have called me first. So we walked to the back of the house and I had Honor climb in through the doggy door (I figured it didn't make much sense that a robber would go in our house and then lock the door) and unlock the back door for me. Jasmine had spilled water all over the kitchen floor.

And then it hit me. She locked the door. Somehow during her panic attack, she must have jumped up and hit the deadbolt.

She must not feel safe when we are gone...

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