Christmas

This was a great Christmas...the very kind of Christmas that I have envisioned since becoming a mom. The kids were too young or too few before. I loved those Christmases for other reasons. This Christmas, however, was exactly my idea of what Christmas would be like at this stage. And it was lovely.

The kids let us sleep in until 7am. They gathered in one bedroom together with a clock and counted down the minutes. I'm not sure exactly when they first woke up, but they knew to wait until at least 7am.

We mostly opened presents one at a time. Not too many, not too few. Alice and Robert were old enough to wait their turn, James could barely be reigned in, and Matthew was so happy playing with  the first gift that he didn't even think about the others.

There were some activities the kids got excited about right away (treats, flashy gifts) and some that were slow burners: family games, toys and puzzles to assemble, activities to plan.

We played and moved and ate and played and tried new stuff and played some more until I looked up and it was 2:30pm. I was still in my pajamas! I didn't have to be "on duty" at all that whole morning. I just got to play with people I love! Blissful.

Everything fell apart right about then. It typically does that time of day. We pulled it out of the fire, though, just in time for Bill and his family to join us for dinner. I missed Kristin a lot (get well soon!).

The day after Christmas is usually the most depressing day of the year for me. We had the Pack family over for dinner to keep our spirits up, and that worked well, especially since they contributed roasted crucifers and a game to the evening's activities. We tasted a few new sodas, too, which is always fun with friends. The Butter Cake soda was surprisingly delicious and the Fungal Fruit (pink passion fruit lime) was a bitter disappointment.

The day after the day after Christmas is usually pretty depressing for me, too, but we have play dates set up and family coming to town (yay!). In fact, it appears we are poised to have the best Christmas and Christmas Break in the history of our family (just celebrated 16 years last week!). Not a bad way to say goodbye to 2017.

Find the Mom

Your challenge is to find me in this picture as I wonder when (or if) I will ever miss these days...

Surprise!

My sister Erin had a surprise for the kids tonight. We had followed clues to some of our favorite Champaign-Urbana landmarks revealing a secret message one word at a time:

NEXT...

WEEK...

I...

AM...

MOVING...

and this video shows us opening a "friend's" door to discover the last word:




...HERE!

I think it broke Alice's brain.

This has been a plan in the works for many, many months. James and Matthew even helped me look at a few houses in October, though they didn't know we were checking them out for Erin. Erin's surprise visit last month was to look at a few houses in person and make an offer. Today, she closed the deal. I love that we managed to keep it a secret until they were standing in the physical house of Erin's future home.

We are all THRILLED to welcome Erin to our neighborhood starting next week!

Merry Christmas :)

Performance Anxiety

Robert and James have both had to perform in front of an audience this week :)

Last Saturday, Robert had a piano recital in an upper room of Smith Memorial Hall on the University of Illinois campus. It was quite the posh location, and I'm glad I asked him to wear his Sunday outfit! We were 15 minutes early, but still barely in time to get a seat on the back row. He was nervous. Antsy. And yet resigned to the necessity of completing the task before him. He was worried people would notice mistakes or laugh if he forgot to bow twice. The teacher in charge had all the performers sit up front in order, so I didn't have a chance to see how he dealt with his nerves up to the last moment. When his turn came, he did a fantastic job! Absolutely fantastic. I couldn't even tell if he was nervous anymore. I clapped and clapped and clapped for him. Great work, Robert! Here he is with the other performers and a few of the teachers:

Front row, black vest, and totally not smiling ;)

I don't remember if I told you guys that I signed Robert up for the Piano Laboratory Program through the University of Illinois School of Music. Half of the instructors are grad students and half are PhD faculty. They take these recitals very seriously. Regimented, tightly scheduled dress rehearsals and all. His teacher is warm, though, and we're all getting to know each other better. Of course I wish for an instant "click" where Robert is motivated to learn and the teacher knows exactly what to say when so he understands and feels understood, but, well, it hasn't happened yet. Each teacher is a unique individual with all his/her own approaches. I am also learning that Robert is pretty content with whomever he has, once he gets used to them. That helps me relax. A little ;)

His practices have been pretty rocky this last month or so. He wants me there, but doesn't want me to speak up or correct him in any way, until he makes a mistake that he feels I *should* have pointed out to him, and then he has a screaming meltdown because now he has to start from the beginning.

*sigh*

His first teacher, Tess, mentioned to him at his first lesson that he would need me to help him practice at first, but by the time he was 8 years old, he should be able to practice independently. That was 18 months ago. Feels like an eternity. I can see it now, though, how Robert is fighting my assistance and bristling against my guidance during practice, but still craving the company. He doesn't like me to clap or say anything if he does well (and if he's anything like me, I know EXACTLY how he feels. I have felt the same way in many, many instances). So, we've begun experimenting with him directing his own practices. Here's what I've learned: the practices are less perfect. There's a lot less wailing and gnashing of teeth. He doesn't love practicing, but he's happier owning his own work.

It's obvious he's just about ready to manage this on his own.  I will, of course, maintain the expectation that the practice be completed (per household rules), but I will interfere/correct much, much less. He will become the "expert" of what's expected from him. Like his homework. I may even stop attending his lessons. Robert has been a little happier as we tinker with this change. I have been happier, too. He lets me clap for him from the other room :) (and if he's anything like me, then this is why: clapping from the other room means I was paying attention to him and appreciating his efforts when I didn't have to. Clapping at his side is simply a petty dog treat for doing only what I asked him to do. A consolation prize, not real appreciation. See the difference? I do. Totally.)

So, you did a fantastic job, Robert! I mean this from the other room. Not from beside you. Seriously. I wanted to pick you up and swing you around in circles, but the sentiment would have been lost in translation. Big time. I'm still learning to speak your dialect, but I know enough that gushing attention is a big no-no, even if it's heartfelt. I reigned in my enthusiasm and kept it to the facts, "Whoa, Robert! I couldn't even TELL you were nervous." The corner of your mouth twitched into a genuine half smile before you tucked it away and asked about the refreshments.

James also had some time in the spotlight this evening. It was his preschool's Christmas program. Every time I mentioned it this week, James would get a big smile on his face and kinda hide his face. Was he embarrassed? Excited? Both? He didn't seem afraid of it, but he never brought it up on his own. Anyway, he lined up and sang tonight. Brave, brave, shy little boy. He sang the words he knew, not being any more energetic than the bare minimum. I could tell he was feeling shy in front of all those people, but he trusted his teachers. He only looked at Ms. Rohrer and us. I loved it when he looked at us. Even as his shyness kept him docile and barely noticeable in that crowd of outgoing and boisterous, extroverted, show-stoppingly cute classmates, every so often James would flash a big grin our way at a funny or silly part of a song that he loved. Then he'd look back at Ms. Rohrer, stifle the grin into a coy little smile, and sing in his shy but compliant way. Here he is in the crowd:

James is in the back row, third from the left

Fantastic job, James! So brave. So big. I gave you a gigantic hug until you giggled and finally relaxed.

It means a lot to me to see these boys overcoming some of their fears and doing hard things. They probably didn't feel like they had a choice, come to think of it, but they put on a brave face and did it anyway. I am so, so impressed with their courage.

James Note and Confession

Just a note about James: he's growing up. It's been a sort of gradual change since he turned five, but here we are two months later and the difference is quite noticeable.

1) He doesn't fight preschool anymore. He heads out the door and into the carpool easy-peasy. No more octopus legs. He's staying in his church class better, too.

2) He uses reading and writing in his play. Just small things.

3) He and Robert can have explosive interactions, but they're using words to talk things out more than ever. Still some fists *sigh* but words feature more prominently lately.

4) James is actually a little excited to have Matthew join him at preschool after the Christmas break. They are better friends now than ever before.

And a confession:
I did the unthinkable today. I'm tired, so I'm not thinking clearly. Matthew has been really scared at night the last week. It has evolved to the point that last night he slept the whole night in our room (on the floor) and STILL woke up several times calling out for me. He begged to get into our bed. I don't want another night like that.

I was pondering what to do when it occurred to me that James might be able to help. Maybe it was time to make James and Matthew roommates. Unthinkable, I know! But I'm desperate. And tired. And fighting a cold.

Bobby asked the boys this morning if that was something they would like to try. They both loved the idea. So, we moved Matthew into James' room. Uncharted territory. Might be a rough adjustment. But maybe, just maybe, Matthew will find peace and comfort in a brother that's always there.

I think this will work because both boys like to listen to the same CD stories at night. Both boys want the light on all night. Neither boy is especially messy. They take their quiet time together almost every day anyway. They are already becoming better friends. James has been so warm and welcoming. They've actually been working together to rearrange the furniture a bit. It's like they're on the same team now. Maybe. For a moment ;)

Blog in Print

They say that we speak and act in the digital realm differently from how we might act face-to-face. I agree. But I came to understand this difference much more acutely today.

For some time, I've wanted to put my blog into print. I thought it would be a more durable record, at least, and a way for the kids to eventually see their childhood through my eyes, at the most. I found a great deal on a website that specifically converts blogs into printed books and decided to have a go. It was freakishly easy to do. Too easy? Especially since I wasn't feeling picky about page layout or picture placement. Their default settings were great!

Well, on this website, before you buy the book, you have a chance to see a digital form of the printed copy. I found myself "leafing" through the book and reading many of those entries again for the first time in years. I remembered how I felt as I wrote each and every one of those pieces. And suddenly, strangely, I sensed a little uneasiness. Everything I wrote was completely true in the moment I wrote it, but some of my feelings and conclusions have changed over the years. I saw how my own child might read some of these entries and misunderstand me. That caused me to pause.

Why doesn't it make me uncomfortable now in blog form? Probably because my kids don't have access to it. Only my closest friends and family do. Mostly. They're all adults. Most have experienced the highs and lows and ins and outs of life. It's out there, of course, and strangers can find it, but that risk is lower.

Am I trying to keep these thoughts secret from my children? No, not really. We often go back through the blog together and reread stories and watch videos of them as children. But it's easy to skip over the parts I don't want to talk about...stuff like labor stories and vulnerable mom moments and boring garden notes. If I had the blog in print, well, the kids could explore it without a guide. I'm not ready for that.

So, if I do print these books like I want to, they will remain my personal property (not family books) and I'll keep them tucked away as a backup. When they start asking harder questions and I need to remember how it was for me, then I can go back and quote it for them :) I would like to eventually be friends with my children, but I will always be their mom, too. I don't want to hide the real me, but the real me changes sometimes, and if an old me is stuck in print...it just seems more permanent than an old digital me.

Will this change how I blog? Probably not. Maybe. I don't know. Hmmmm.

First Band Concert

Tonight was the Citywide 5th Grade Band Concert at the Urbana Middle School Gym. Bobby was out of town, so I got to take all the boys with me right when I would normally be putting them to bed. It made for an interesting juggling match on the bleachers.

Anywho, here's the truth: it sounded awful. Dreadful, even. But that's not why we go to these things, is it? Of course not. Alice is the teeny speck at the very front of the flute section on the right, the first chair of the first row nearest her instructor. Her little brownish head is bobbing just above the guard rail in this video. I couldn't hear a SINGLE flute over the trombones and trumpets and plinking percussion, but I could see that Alice was blowing into her instrument and clicking keys to form notes...very, very slowly (you might want to make this full screen):



The good news was, I finally got to see some of the classmates she talks about :) and James only fell into one hole. Twice.

Taxes

We were driving home from church this morning when James asks out of the blue, "What are taxes again?"

I guess it wasn't truly out of the blue. The big kids have kinda been talking about taxes the last week or so. They have grand ideas, y'know.

James asked the question in a strange way. Subconsciously, I sensed there might be a specific reason he was asking this question, but it didn't register until later when I was telling Bobby about it.

It goes back to money. James hears us talking about a program where we HAVE to give our money to someone or something, and it's totally legal (enforced by police) and he's TOTALLY interested. He wants to be the person you give your money to. The perfect occupation for a pirate ;)

James' love for money appears to be the money itself, not what it can buy. He doesn't seem to have plans for it except to collect it and have lots and lots. He knows it's valuable. He knows you need to work for it. Perhaps he senses its power? Don't know, exactly, but it's certainly something he thinks about a lot.

Did I tell you he collects coupons? Those free ad books that come in the mail on Wednesdays. He took a pair of scissors to them once and clipped over 200 coupons. These coupons are part of his treasure, now, and he'll pore over them again and again. He and Robert sorted them this morning. It's a seductive idea...the idea that he could trade a simple scrap of paper for a free hamburger and fries. He's not reading the fine print, of course, but there's a fantastic picture.

I remember feeling that way about Scholastic Book Order forms and Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes stamps. There was something about all that potential that captured my heart. This enormous abundance to choose from. And if I just did a couple things (earned money and sent it in), all of it could be mine. All mine.

Hmm. Maybe his pirate tendencies are inherited.

Life in 3-D

Alice and Bobby went to a 3-D Scanning class this week. It turns out, they were the ONLY students, so they had plenty of personal attention from the instructors. The instructors took a 3-D scan of their head and shoulders and then Alice and Bobby got to play with the image a bit before beginning the print.

It took 2 hours to print the 3-4" busts, so Bobby had to go back the next day to pick them up. He brought home these:

Alice is sticking out her tongue and Bobby is in a state of "Home Alone" surprise.

Of course they couldn't sit there for a normal portrait like normal people! The likenesses are REALLY accurate. Creepy accurate. Robert and I were a little jealous, so we're signing up for the next round of classes :) I have visions of an Evans Family Mount Rushmore on our mantel...