good quotes...

No one is more influential in your life than you, because no one talks to you more than you do.
–Paul Tripp

my apologies

Life is taking over around here. I can't believe I haven't posted anything since July!!! (The couple of newsletter columns below are the only thing that is forcing me to keep writing - so I shared them in the hopes that you will still love me).

I could say that nothing exciting or funny has happened around here, but well, that would be lying. And while I'm known to exaggerate a story for maximum editorial impact, I don't usually outright fib. Truth be told - I'm just too busy and uninspired to tap my fingers on a keyboard when I know there is history on Christopher Columbus to finish, trim to paint, and teeth to brush (my own).

The kids are still funny and crazy. The addition is still unfinished. And I am still a size 4. (Ha!)

As I sit here right now, trying to finish yet another newsletter column, hash over design ideas for Christmas cards and search online for yarn, my kids are rapping in the kitchen. The beat-boxing is almost in rhythm with my typing. Until someone gets mad because the others aren't singing the right lyrics...

Firstborns are very bossy - did you know that? It's a wonder my younger brothers speak to me anymore. But, that sounds like food for another column, another day when I'm not busy or crazy or sleep-deprived.

Thanks for hanging in there.

boys say the funniest things...

"Dad, do you think maybe I might marry Taylor Swift when I get older?"

"Well bud, I think you might be a little young for her."

"Then you should marry her!"

"What do you think Mom will think about that?"

"She won't mind!"

car conversations

"Mom, we should get a horse. Then it can be my little friend."

wii want to play

As a general rule, I’m not a fan of video games. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or not, but they seem to make four half-hyper boys even more turbo-charged. I’d rather they went outside to actually play baseball than swing remotes around during a simulated game. Ditto goes for ping pong.

But today - I could hug the Wii, even if it meant six boys rolling their eyes at me.

I am decidely infected by all the aches and pains that come along with the first cold of the season. Tickly throat. Itchy nose. Achy joints. Bleary eyes. It all hit within the time it took two extra boys to drop by and mine to whine that there was “nothing to do.”

That was exactly nine minutes.

Funny how six children with more toys than a small country cannot entertain themselves. They whipped through baseball card trading in seconds. They blasted Nerf guns for minutes. And never mind the balls and books and bikes and skateboards, there is simply nothing to do.

I could think of many, many things I’d have liked to do - going to bed was tops on the list. But, considering four of the extra eyeballs staring at me weren’t fruit of my womb, I didn’t figure that was the best idea. Who knows what kind of chaos would tumble out of the house when their mother came to pick them up.

So, instead of turning to my pillow for comfort, I pointed their non-existant attention spans toward Wii Play and Big Game Hunter. Then I downed a couple Tylenols and flopped into my role as Official Keeper of the Time to ensure fair turns and an equal amount of play. Thankfully I didn’t have to be in the room for that - just had to convince them that I was actually capable of managing the clock by dividing two and a half hours by six. The only child who came out on the short end was the littlest one - he was happy with his 10 minutes of play. (At four, his concept of time is a bit lacking.)

Honestly, I think I was counting down the minutes more than any of them were - praying Other Parents weren’t late. I needed some serious Wrapped-in-an-Electric-Blanket bed time.

I may not be the world’s best mother, and even less so on a sick day, but I do recognize opportunities when God presents them to me. Even on a sick day. Or especially on a sick day.

Normally I’m barely capable of entertaining children. Throw in a common cold and I’m at a serious disadvantage - something in the negative numbers for sure. Add Wii and coffee to the mix and the odds get returned slightly back in my favor. The Tylenol probably helped too. The incessant doo-doo-de-doot “music” from the video game couldn’t penetrate the haze I was in. Neither could one boy complaining when the others took out his tank.

Perhaps the mental fog was a good thing because usually the boys whining about toys they’re playing with results in swift action from the referee, er, Mother - I take the toy away. Today, that option wasn’t even on the table. I knew if they weren’t playing Wii, I had no other game plan. So, I put the ball in their court, so to speak. I sat back and let them solve the problem themselves. (Honestly, I wasn’t capable of intervening, but hey - I can report this any way I want...) To my surprise, after heckling the whiner a bit, one boy offered to let him play in his spot since he had been the one to end his game.
Seriously? What just happened here? Even in my diminished mental capacity, I was in awe. Kindness during a Wii bout? This coming from the same child who will not say uncle even if he is pinned to the ground with no way of escape. Either a miracle just happened or this boy has got wise to my disciplinary strategies. Nah, it had to be a miracle.

Ten minutes later, Other Parent showed up, right on time. I got my blanket time and the kids behaved themselves for the rest of the afternoon, supervised by the oldest. Maybe this is all a dream, but for now I’m going to just thank God for the unbelievable sick day. I’ll pinch myself tomorrow.

boys say the funniest things...

The boys got to see their newborn cousin last night. Number four's reaction: "That baby is cuter than a pig."

Not sure what her Mom thought about that.

boys say the funniest things...

Today's math lesson:

Number Four was trying to figure out when he'll be able to play with his new cousin.

"When she's four, I'll be like five."

"No, you'll be eight."

"When she's eight, I'll be 11."

"No, you'll be twelve."

"Well, when she's 12, I'll be a grandpa!"

Good Lord, I hope his father isn't even a grandpa at that point.

boys say the funniest things...

I told Number Four to get his sheets off his bed. He brought them down to the laundry room and said, "I brought my pillow sheet too!"

real work

"Mom, we're doing WORK today." (This is my third child, informing me of his father's BIG plans for the day.)

"What about Mom - is she working today?" I ask him.

"No, we're doing ACTUAL work!"

Sigh. A mother's work just doesn't count in a houseful of boys.

back to school

For most normal people, the arrival of Labor Day is met with mixed emotions - summer is winding down and in Minnesota, that means winter is about a month away. But, on the positive side, it also means that the kids are finally going back to school.
I’m sure there are a few half-insane people who anticipate winter, and there are probably a few sentimental types who are actually sad that the kids are leaving.

I however, am not maudlin. I would welcome the quiet that would come with three out of the four kids heading out each morning, leaving me with the only one who seems to know how to play by himself. I would not mourn the noise, the mess and the begging for snacks. I think I might actually dance a little jig if Labor Day meant that my boys were going back to a school that wasn’t at home.

As it is, we are a homeschooling family, so this time of year means much more than popping kids on a bus and packing lunches.
It means tears and whining (from me), planning and purchasing (again me), discipline and maybe even a little sisu. (For those of you non-Finns, sisu is a bit like moxie – super guts is how we always translated it.) And this is just for starters.

It will take approximately a month to settle into a routine that looks a bit like this: endless questions like “What do I do now?” when the schedule clearly says math, an hour’s worth of nagging to get a half hour of language done, begging for recess and two kids who will somehow disappear when Mom is working with the third.

I can guarantee that we won’t be even that far into the school schedule when two boys will have lost every pencil that was purchased for them (all 27.) The third will have scribbled his name on someone else’s workbook. One will hide his monthly schedule and claim he doesn’t have to do any school. And at some point in the first month or so, someone will pull out brand-new markers (the non-washable kind because Mom forgot to buy those) and tattoo himself and his little brother.

And to make matters worse, the littlest one - the one who doesn’t have to do school - will be the only one begging for a school book.
The bright side is that when they do disappear on me, they’re likely to have a book in hand and I will find them in some random spot, hunched over reading How to Eat Fried Worms or some other delightful tale. Last year I measured my success as a teacher/mother not in test scores, but in the fact that boy #2 wanting to read his library book during his traveling team’s wrestling match. Anything else that happened that year was gravy.

All complaining aside (and mostly from me), homeschooling is not much different than parenting. It involves focus and discipline and consequences and love. I need to have a keen eye for how my children learn so that I can best know how to teach them. I need to have the will power and strength to maintain a schedule and not back down from their challenges. I need to be able to enforce missing football practice if schoolwork isn’t done. And I need to do all of this with mercy and love.
So, it’s not any easier than parenting.

But, the rewards are there, just as they are in parenting. Occasionally you’ll get a glimpse of a job well done or a lesson learned or even a new skill acquired. And that’s just on my part. They probably get much more out of it, although I doubt they’d admit it.

Knowing all of this, I probably shouldn’t dread the approach of Labor Day. Every year, it’s the same thing - a bit of anxiety in the planning stages (what curriculum should I use? Rosetta Stone costs how much? It’s how many days until Christmas break?) but the end result is usually worth it.

This is not a journey for everyone, and sometimes I question if it’s the right journey for us, but so far, one year at a time, we’re doing our best to follow the path God has laid out for us, even if it doesn’t mean orange school buses and the local elementary school.

Who knows what I’ll learn this year...

boys say the funniest things...

So the big discussion last night was whose muscles (biceps) were bigger - Mom's or Dad's. After both of us flexed for Number Four, he decided that Mom won because Dad has a "flab on his muscle."

However, in Dad's defense, his muscle is actually bigger, but bulgier (is that a word?) and that's what Number Four decided was flabby.

I'll take any compliment I can get, even if it's not truthful.

it's nice to have boys...

because they crack me up.

Boy #3: Are we gonna have any more kids, Mom?

Me: Do you want more?

Boy #3: Only if it's a brother.

Boy #2: We got four boys, so it'll probably be a girl.

Boy #4: Well, it can't pet my kitten!