After weeks of worrying about when and how to wean Caitlyn, I was down to just a feeding or two a day but couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger.

First thing every morning, she was always desperate for milk and it was a nice way to start the day to rock in the chair while I nursed and talk to Mackenzie about her dreams. I was already getting wistful about which feeding would be my last, and I was wary of her begging for something I was no longer willing to give her.

But on this particular morning? Caitlyn asked for “boo?” (book) instead of milk as I walked in the room and I made a split second decision to just go with it. We flipped through board books together and went down to eat oatmeal for breakfast.

And that was that.

No more milk for my girl, and she didn’t seem sad about it. And I surprised myself by being 100% fine with it too. Not knowing when the last time I nursed her would be actually worked out for the best because it spared me the agony of over-thinking, an agony I’m all too familiar with.

Occasionally, I’ll bring my iPhone into the girls’ room and sit on their bed and just sing and sing and sing through hymns and children’s songs from our church.

It’s a sweet time of the day for me and it’s even more rewarding now that Mackenzie will sing along with me. Still, though, I am not particularly musical so I love it when Scott is around to keep me on key.

Moment of the Week – November 12th, 2011

On this day, I laid Caitlyn down for her nap gently, and began to sing her a song. She signed (and declared verbally) “all done!” “all done!”

I assumed she was upset that it was naptime, so I continued to sing soothingly and smooth her blanket.

Yet she persisted: “All done!!”

I paused my singing to assess the situation, and she promptly rolled on her side and closed her eyes.

Apparently my singing was interfering with her sleep agenda.

I don’t like being frightened. I don’t like candy.

I do like pumpkins, but I enjoy them for several months with or without October 31st festivities and I resent the fact that carving them inevitably leaves a shriveled, moldy mess.

For the children

In years past, we’ve handed out playdough and stickers (totally passable with the preschool crowd we get at our door) and sort of let the holiday pass us by. But this year Scott’s offhand remark a few days beforehand changed everything:

“You know, it’s a shame to lose out on the excitement of dressing up and meeting neighbors just because we aren’t big candy fans. I’ll bet Mackenzie would LOVE Halloween if we gave her the chance.”

And lo, a light went on in the attic and I realized he was totally correct. Mackenzie loves traditions, anything special and exciting, and she especially loves to dress up. So I started talking up The Big Day.

She decided on wearing the Chinese pajamas her Uncle and Aunt brought home from a recent trip. I still had a dalmatian costume I threw together for Mackenzie years ago so Caitlyn was set. Scott went as a doctor (natch) and at the very last minute he talked me into donning my red feetie pajamas and going as a clown.

We made the most of the day with a trip to the zoo, a trip to Chipotle (switching Mackenzie to a farmer so we could get a discounted burrito for her and her fellow farm dweller, the dalmatian), and trick or treating.

Moment of the Week – October 31st, 2011

Mackenzie had talked excitedly all day about “trick or treating” but before we headed out I took a few minutes to review how it plays out.

Me: First, we will walk up to a door and ring the doorbell or knock. Then we wait. When someone answers the door, we look them in the eye, smile and say… what?

Mackenzie: Trick or treat!!!!

Me: Yep, and then they might just give us… what?

Mackenzie: (says nothing, has a baffled expression)

Me: Candy?

Mackenzie: (Eyes growing huge in disbelief…) REALLY?!

She seriously had no idea.

Runners up

#1: We had her choose 10 pieces of candy total to keep and eat (note to self: Next year go with 5). She made piles of candy by type, as I remember doing so well as a kid. Then she chose one of each type of candy until she got to 10.

Scott and I both winced automatically as she chose a mini Snickers instead of a fun-size Snickers and again when she traded a fun-size Milky Way in for a lame purple Now-And-Later (she loves purple). We exchanged alarmed glances and had a quick huddle as to whether we should guide her candy choices. What kind of parents would we be if we let her make such a poor trade?!

#2: After opening her second piece of candy of the night, Mackenzie made the following comment: “Oh look, it’s another little loaf of bread!”

It was apparent she had never seen a candy bar before.

Yeah.

On our last day at “The Villa“, Mackenzie and I took a morning trip down to the beach. I needed to soak up at least a year’s worth of the smell in the air and the sand under my feet. It was sort of foggy and the beach felt huge and rugged. The waves were cold but breathtakingly beautiful. On mornings like that, living in Ohio is tough.

My girl loved being in the water and was a total trooper… right up until the end when she started to whimper and asked to go back to the house. I consented and as we headed back, she confided she was “just nervous about the man with the sword getting her.” I turned and saw down the beach a man was fishing with a pole.

I think I laughed all the way back to Columbus about that one.

Choosing a favorite moment is tough. A few contenders:

- Caitlyn taught herself how to go down Grandma’s slide in the play room by just sitting on her bottom and thrusting her little hips (“huh”ing all the way) until she would suddenly arrive at the edge and shoot down to the floor. After spending a brief time grinning proudly and making sure everyone in the room had seen what she had done she’d toddle around to get her fix again, honing the “huh”ing technique.

- Our annual family reunion was at a gorgeous beach house we call affectionately “The Villa”. The moment we drove up and saw the full fountain and grand entry was pretty unbelievable. Never in my life did I ever imagine staying in someplace so fancy!

(a cousin, playing in the fountain)

- Hearing Mackenzie’s uncles and aunts report on their walk down to the beach with her. She kept lagging behind and one of them commented on it. Mackenzie thoughtfully agreed as she picked her way down the path, “Yep. I’m not the fastest.” A truer statement was never made and the contrast with her 8 rambunctious cousins is striking.

But the winner is…

Seeing my normally timid little girl come back wet, sandy and exhausted from her first trip down to the beach with Grandma. A bemused Grandma commented, “You said she probably won’t want to get into the water but that girl was playing and splashing and shrieking with the best of them.”

We hosed everybody down and piled 8 little kiddos in the tub (ages 2 to 5), a process that would become a ritual that week. It was a thoroughly enjoyable trip.

And what reunion would be complete without one of my dad’s awesome videos? <– linky

Uttering the faintest croak was painful enough, I swore a vow of silence. 

Have you ever mothered for an extended period of time without saying a word?  Aside from once or twice when a distinct “NO!!!!” or “STOP!!!” came out of me from some deep parental reserve to avert a near disaster, I communicated solely with gestures and with the written word for the entire morning.  

Keep in mind, only one of my two children can read.

My plan was to jealously protect my voice reserves for as long as possible, so that I had a shot at recovery by the afternoon. 

But, 8:13am found me laughing uncontrollably… you can imagine how terrible that sounded (and felt!)  I was helpless to resist, though.  There I was, folding clean laundry and supervising Caitlyn finishing her breakfast.  Mackenzie was racing around me with a pair of (clean) underwear on her head.

(That is allowed at our house… what, it’s not at yours?)

Now this wasn’t that unusual, nor that funny.  Typically, I would have given a token chuckle at her silliness but today I just smiled silently.  

What killed me is when she took off the underwear and tossed it on the ground.  I snapped my fingers to get her attention, and then pointed to the pile of her clean underwear I was making as I worked through the laundry.  

She whispered, “What?” and I pointed more insistently at the pair she had cast aside and then at the pile where it belonged.

“Oh, I know what you mean!” She whispered and nodded her head.  Then she gathered up all the pairs of underwear and headed for the stairs.  

Right about here I was patting myself on the back for working with her on chores lately.  She was going to put away her clothes in her room upstairs, right?

Wrong.

My girl came racing back from the “staging area” (stairs), proudly sporting every single pair of underwear on her head.

My voice was doomed! I spent it laughing on many similar mixups today, as well as on a few carefully uttered and ironic “Use your words” to Caitlyn when she insisted on communicating using her signature and singularly unhelpful”moose” noises.  Mostly I threw my hands in the air to her, though.  One-sided communication is hard enough with a 15 month old.  Zero sided communication is just futile.

Scott spent 16 weeks of the summer and fall training for his first marathon. He was to run it in Leavenworth, WA with his buddy, brother-in-law, and former roommate (all the same guy) (we really like that guy).

It was tough finding time to train and following the program he chose week after week required sacrifice on both of our parts.

A month before the race, his buddy had to drop out due to an injury.

Two weeks before the race, Scott’s vitreous detached when he got nailed in the face with a soccer ball.

One week before the race, a raging case of poison oak appeared, as a direct consequence of our illicit adventures at a State park.

As the day of the race approached, I’ll confess to having a sense of impending doom.

Doing it the old-fashioned way

Having plenty of spectating experience, I knew all about how to help Scott prep for the race.

But he insisted on NOT driving the course beforehand or even wearing a watch. He just wanted to go by how his body felt. [My sense of impending doom peaked after hearing this. He'll go out too fast!! How will he possibly pace himself during his first ever marathon if he just "wings it"?!]

His only requests were that his sister make him peanut butter and jam sandwiches on her homemade whole wheat bread, and that we try and see him on the course as often as possible in the last six miles.

Bright and Early

We stayed with Scott’s amazing cheering section (his mom who came out from Utah, his sister and injured brother-in-law and their three little kids) in a cabin about 25 minutes away from the course.

The drop off to catch the bus to the starting line was 6am so Scott and I were up bright and early. I returned to the cabin and fidgeted and worried and checked the clock about 25 times, then woke my girls up and hustled them and my mother-in-law out the door to drive to the first spot we could see him on the course: mile 10.

We unloaded the girls, found a spot on the street with a good view, and I checked the clock. If he was on pace, he should be there in 3 minutes. If he was too fast, (as I predicted), he may have already passed us by but there was a little 1 mile out-and-back that returned to that same spot so surely we could catch him on his way back.

3 minutes passed, then 8, and when we hit 13 minutes, I started to panic. How could be be a full minute behind his mile pace? Was he injured already?

And then there he was, two thumbs up and grinning ear to ear, ready for the first sandwich installment. His mom made the hand-off while I took pictures and struggled internally whether to let him know he was dog slow.

Nah, better let him enjoy running.

The Next Ten Miles

We were the most enthusiastic and persistent spectators on the course, hands down. We cheered for every runner we saw, going nearly hoarse in the process.

We caught Scott at miles 10 and 11.

We managed to land ourselves in a closed part of the course, at Mile 15 after the course was flooded with thousands of half marathoners. The full marathoners numbered less than 200, I believe, and were spread out by this point:

We passed him in the car and hollered out the window at mile 17. The older man running next to him at the time thought we were cat calling at him and he was obviously flattered. Scott noticed but didn’t set him straight.

We handed off a half a sandwich at mile 18 and he never broke stride, seeming to still be in good spirits:

Putting All His Turkeys on the Line

When we caught him again at mile 20, he tried to smile but it was obvious from his face that it was getting painful to put one foot in front of the other.

Scott’s sister and brother-in-law with kids in tow had been trying all morning to see him on the course and closed roads and traffic jams had thwarted them at every turn. I thwarted them once myself by directing them to a certain gas station, where they would have a beautiful view. They would have had a beautiful view had I realized that there were two gas stations by that name in the town and been more specific as to location. The one they arrived at had no view at all.

They finally caught him and our brother-in-law leaped out of the car and started running with Scott. Despite his injury, he was able to stick with Scott and keep him going. When I saw them for the last time at mile 22 (out the car window), they were plugging along, but I could see the pain from across the street.

The next 4 miles were closed to spectators and so I just focused on getting myself and my girls to the finish line. And I’ll admit to praying on the way there that Scott would just be able to finish, because I really wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep going at that point.

When I arrived at the finish line, I saw the race clock was a full ten minutes earlier than I thought! Apparently they started quite late, so when I saw Scott at mile 10 he was exactly on his goal pace. Still, though, the agony at mile 23 made me think we’d have a long wait at the finish line.

Only a minute or two later, my mother-in-law shouted that she saw Scott coming around the cohttp://beanland.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2962&action=editrner. Now, she had had several false alarms that morning, so I barely glanced that direction but she was absolutely right. He cruised around that corner, ran through the finish line a few seconds under his (ambitious) goal time… and then totally melted down.

He had truly pushed himself to his limit, in the words of an ultrarunner friend, he “put all his turkeys on the line”.

And, I’m so glad I got it on camera.

He recovered pretty quickly, though, and had a flock of admirers for his cooldown routine.

I wanted to get a quick few shots of his dedicated cheering section, and the pictures turned out to be priceless. (Hint: Keep your eye on my nephew in the front row. I have no clue what he was doing, but I had close to a dozen frames, each capturing some different and equally crazy expression.)

It was such a fun day and exhilarating to see Scott succeed at something so difficult. He inspired me and I’m grateful for the inspiration he is to our girls as well.

7. Schedule

I don’t know how I went years without paying any attention to the time, but now we shoot for breakfast at 8am, lunch at 12:30, quiet time no later than 2, and dinner at 6:30pm.

We still have plenty of flexibility but it’s a relief to have more structure to our days. I now anchor other activities to those events (memorization at breakfast, all toys picked up before lunch, reading aloud until quiet time, house straightened before dinner, etc.)

This has made me both more productive and more relaxed. I honestly don’t know what I did before. I think I just winged it every day?

I do recall nights where “dinner” wasn’t finished until after Mackenzie was in bed so we mainly ate last night’s leftovers for dinner instead. And the new dinner turned immediately into leftovers for the following day.

Did I just admit that?

At any rate, let’s just say I’m in the running for the “Most Improved” award in terms of scheduling.

8. Chores for Children

I’ve really asked Mackenzie to step up her help around the house and she is so much more capable (and willing) than I gave her credit for. She actually does pull her weight in some areas now, and more importantly, we’re trying to lay the groundwork for future years.

Here’s what she does regularly:
- Before coming down for breakfast, she makes her bed, goes to the bathroom, says her personal prayers, gets dressed and puts her books and jammies away.
- She unloads all the silverware from the dishwasher and puts it neatly away, nesting measuring cups and sorting spoons by size. (That’s just the way we roll around here.)
- She folds all the washcloths in the laundry, matches the socks, and puts all her laundry and her sister’s laundry away.
- She cleans up all toys and folds all blankets, including things her sister got out. (I usually work alongside her on this.)

9. Housecleaning

I’ve never felt I had a good handle on how to efficiently keep our home neat and clean. But for me, it’s absolutely critical to a good homeschooling experience. With lots of children at home making educational messes during the day, the task of keeping things in order was daunting to me.

So I did what I always do: research.

I read “Is There Life After Housework?” “More Hours in My Day” “Confessions of an Organized Homemaker” “Large Family Logistics” and brushed up on my Flylady skillz.

After all that, I’ve settled into a good groove. It consists of using Remember the Milk app on my phone and doing several 5 or 15 minute chores a day, rotating through areas of the house so things get deep cleaned periodically and stay presentable as well.

Although I do have my ideal cleaning plan down to a “science”, because that’s the way I’m wired, the biggest changes have been in my attitude and habits.

• I am learning to be content with chipping away at something, rather than doing it perfectly or not at all. If 5 minutes with a baby on my hip is all I have to wipe down the bathroom, it will still look much better than if I go a whole week trying to find the childless 20 minutes it takes to do a good job.
• If I don’t get something clean on the day it pops up on my app, rather than tack it on to the next day and the next and get overwhelmed with a pile of undone chores… I simply cross it off my list. It will come up again in a week or so, and if it desperately needs to be cleaned before then, I’ll gladly get to it because I choose to, not because it’s crusty on my list. (Go ahead, call me weird for feeling like that’s different!)
• The sooner it’s clean, the longer I get to enjoy it. Keeping dirty dishes in the sink all day doesn’t save any time, it just makes the kitchen look ugly. (Don’t ask me why I didn’t realize this earlier.)

And three more takeaways for me: Have less stuff! Clean consistently! and Set a timer!

Things always take less time than I think, if I just get started.

10. Chilling out

Often I get overwhelmed at the idea of homeschooling through high school. I loved calculus but how am I going to teach that and cursive to two different children on the same day (and cook dinner, etc.) And what happens when I have a 6th grader and a newborn at the same time?

But, I know homeschooling is the right choice for our family so I have to dismiss those thoughts and focus on taking it one year at a time, one child at a time.

I am restraining myself from looking at curriculum yet, as a matter of fact, because it’s so far in advance. There will be time enough for that next year and I know I could deep end on the details now and only stress myself out.

Yep, forcing myself to chill out is a crucial part of my preparation at this point.

Here is the second installment of the 10 things we’re working on. Read the first installment here.

4. Narration

While I read aloud, or whenever Mackenzie reads to me, I ask her questions about what we’ve read. Often it just serves to get her more excited about what’s coming next, but sometimes I discover she has missed a key part of the plot because she misheard or misunderstood a word. We clear things up before we move on.

I think this will be a useful tool down the road because it allows me to check up on the reading she does independently.

5. Patience

I’m not talking about the kind of patience that is needed when your preschooler asks (yet again) if dinner is ready yet at 4pm, though I sure could use a deeper supply of that as well.

I’m talking about the patience that it takes to set a goal and accomplish it in tiny little interrupted bits over the course of days and weeks.

We hope to have lots more children and homeschooling with little ones underfoot requires the patience to continually return back to a task or a goal when diaper changes, mealtime messes, and meltdowns pull you away.

When I look back on the list of books I’ve read to Mackenzie over the course of time, it’s impressive. But on any given day, “one thing after another” can encroach on reading time until 5 minutes is all we can squeeze in. And that is OK! There are more days.

Homeschooling success requires pacing yourself, from what I gather, and I’m working on mastering that skill.

6. Mornings

Oh my, my mornings were rough. They still are some days, I’ll be honest.

Working full-time from home, I was used to jumping on my computer as soon as Mackenzie was asleep, and typing away until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Then I’d sleep in as long as I possibly could and emerge from bed bleary-eyed and disoriented to a bouncing, bushy-tailed little girl. It wasn’t ideal in terms of sleep, but it was survivable.

Now? I know I am a much better mom when I wake up before my girls, read my scriptures, start breakfast, and get myself ready for the day.

The key for me is still getting to bed at a decent hour, and I still have lots of progress to make in this hour. (Translation: I still blow it on a regular basis, but I try to wake up early the next morning anyway.)

I need to establish much better habits in this area to be ready to hit the books with my children right after breakfast.

We hadn’t seen Scott’s older sister, Debbie, in a year and a half and her family welcomed us into their home with open arms.

Literally.

They are definitely huggers.

And, although their youngest is nearly 9, they were genuinely delighted to include Mackenzie (3 1/2) in all their fun. And Caitlyn? Her feet barely skimmed the ground during our whole stay because she was passed from adoring cousin to adoring cousin.

She took a particular liking to my 13 year old nephew and the moment of the week for me was seeing this teenage boy capably and happily feeding her banana. He sat her up on a table and patiently doled out chunks of fruit into her little mouth. She was eagerly signing “more” whenever he slowed down, and smiling with dimples between bites.

Mackenzie and one of my nieces were in the next room over, and I could hear Mackenzie talking about the stuffed animal she was holding. My niece settled in to hear the whole story.

And later? Mackenzie raced to tell me she was invited into the Cool Chicks Club (or Clud, as the case may be.

When you’re three years old, having girls who are old enough to paint their own fingernails play with you is magical. Mackenzie just glowed the whole time we were there.

It’s an indescribable feeling to know that your children are being taken care of by people who truly love them. Living far away from family, we don’t take that for granted. I basked in it all weekend.