I don't know exactly why, but our library has a circulating collection of board/card games. And musical instruments. And crafty hardware like sewing machines and fancy digital scrap booking paper cutters. I'm hoping they'll break out into small animals soon so the kids can try out some pets.
Anyway, we've checked out a few games already and I'm SO glad we have. Some of these games cost upwards of $40-50 each and have complex rules that only really start making sense the fifth time you play them (King of New York). Some games look really cool, but fall flat after you play them once or twice (Exploding Kittens). What I've really enjoyed, however, is learning to play these games with Alice and Robert. Robert is especially fond of that time together. He has been giving more hugs and spontaneous "I love you"'s since we've been playing more regularly. He likes winning, of course, but he likes the give and take and strategy and anticipation of the win, too. He's not very sportsmanlike yet, though. Gotta practice that a bit more.
It's been fun. Just wanted to share.
And one more thing, unrelated to games: Robert came up to me yesterday with a big smile on his face and a hug and he said, "Mom, I love playing the piano now." My heart skipped a beat.
"Really? Why?"
"Because of DUH-nuh-nuh-nuh DUH-nuuuuh." ("Everything is Awesome" from the LEGO Movie)
His new teacher has him playing that. And he, apparently, loves it. A lot. Enough to enjoy his daily practice plus pick things out on his own again. He doesn't even ask for my company anymore during his practices. A complete turnaround for this guy. Wow.
Sunday, July 29, 2018
Saturday, July 28, 2018
Full Moon Ride
There is a local cycling club that hosts a "Full Moon Ride" four months of the year. They start at a nearby park and bike 11 miles out to the Sidney Dairy Barn...a small-town, kooky, kind of place to get soft-serve ice cream...then turn around and ride back to town in the dark as the full moon rises up behind them.
I really LOVED the idea of this adventure, but was seriously intimidated by the distance. That's 22 miles round trip! About 2 hours pedaling on a bike. In the dark.
Sure, I liked to ride, and I could probably handle the cardio side of things, but I wondered if I were physically capable of riding my bike for 2 whole hours. Could it actually be fun for me?
I wanted to see.
So, I contacted 2 local friends with any interest in cycling and begged them to do this with me. One was able to make it at the last moment. Whee!
We met up at the park with over 100 other cyclists. I did not expect that many people. It was quite the sight! There was a whole range of ages, body sizes, bike types, and gear/clothing. Suddenly, 22 miles didn't seem like such a big deal. Maybe it would be okay.
My friend ended up with 2 flat tires just before the ride even began. She had no replacement tubes, so she called her husband to pick her up :( We were both very sad about it. I decided to brave it "alone" in this massive group of cycling enthusiasts. My friend's support had pulled me out the door and up to the starting line. That's what I needed most.
And then they said, "Go!"
This giant river of people and wheels just hit the road. What a sight. Most people were taking it at a leisurely pace and chatting with friends. I went at the pace I enjoyed best, which was a little faster. The temperature was perfect. The sunset was great. Everyone was in a good mood and having fun. I was paranoid that I'd pop a tire or skid on gravel or suddenly run out of energy and have to call Bobby to rescue me. None of that happened.
When I got to the Sidney Dairy Barn, there was already a line of 20-30 people waiting. I parked my bike next to three people I had been following for the last few miles. They were talkative, friendly, and they biked at a pace very similar to my natural pace. A conversation started. They were very welcoming and it was shockingly easy for me to be my comfortable self. They invited me to bike back with them and we talked and laughed all 11 miles.
We also ate a lot of flying bugs. Blech.
Anyway, when we were back at the park, we exchanged contact information. They invited me to ride with them in a few weeks at the Prairie Cycle Club Tour in Mahomet. That event has several distances (10-100 miles) but these three are planning on biking the 48-miler.
48 miles?! More than DOUBLE the longest biking distance I've EVER attempted in my life?! A distance that would take me 45 minutes to drive in my car?! We're talking a bike ride that is easily 5 hours long. That's CRAZY!
And yet, I just biked 22 miles alright.
My new friend said the course is broken up with snack stops and rest points. It's not a 5-hour death ride.
But what if my bottom can't take anymore after 2 hours? or 3? or 4?
So, I'm thinking about the 28-mile ride instead. With the staggered start times, we will probably finish within 30 minutes of each other and can have lunch together afterwards. I haven't made my mind up to ride, yet, but it sounds like fun. And I like the idea of not doing it alone :(
This is an interesting phase in my life right now. I'm exploring personal interests that don't overlap much with each other or my current life: farming, cycling/running. It feels a little disjointed and clunky. Almost like I'm living 3 lives at once. Three identities: LDS mother of four, farmer, cycling/running enthusiast. There's no reason these three identities can't co-exist, but there's no overlap right now. Zero. No one in one sphere understands my life in the other two spheres. Not really, anyway. And it's a bit taxing. I wonder how sustainable it is to have three completely separate lives at once.
I'm wondering if this is actually pretty common and I'm only stumbling upon it now.
Why haven't I experienced this before? Hm. Let me think.
As a kid, I had two spheres: church and school. Church kids still knew what school life was like, even if my friend circles didn't overlap. And when I moved to Utah, even the school kids knew somewhat what church life was like, even if they weren't LDS.
Same thing in college at the University of Utah.
In grad school, I had two spheres: grad school and LDS woman. Even if my female LDS friends weren't in grad school at the time, their spouses were, so there was some overlap there. The grad school folks didn't get my church life. It didn't bother me, though.
As a mother of young children, I had only one sphere: LDS mother of young children. And I pretty much only hung out with young mothers, LDS or otherwise. Not on purpose, really, but our needs were similar enough that we spent time in many of the same places doing many of the same things.
Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing (not the first time for me *ahem*). Why do I feel the need to merge my social spheres better? I don't know. Gotta think about this some more.
I really LOVED the idea of this adventure, but was seriously intimidated by the distance. That's 22 miles round trip! About 2 hours pedaling on a bike. In the dark.
Sure, I liked to ride, and I could probably handle the cardio side of things, but I wondered if I were physically capable of riding my bike for 2 whole hours. Could it actually be fun for me?
I wanted to see.
So, I contacted 2 local friends with any interest in cycling and begged them to do this with me. One was able to make it at the last moment. Whee!
We met up at the park with over 100 other cyclists. I did not expect that many people. It was quite the sight! There was a whole range of ages, body sizes, bike types, and gear/clothing. Suddenly, 22 miles didn't seem like such a big deal. Maybe it would be okay.
My friend ended up with 2 flat tires just before the ride even began. She had no replacement tubes, so she called her husband to pick her up :( We were both very sad about it. I decided to brave it "alone" in this massive group of cycling enthusiasts. My friend's support had pulled me out the door and up to the starting line. That's what I needed most.
And then they said, "Go!"
This giant river of people and wheels just hit the road. What a sight. Most people were taking it at a leisurely pace and chatting with friends. I went at the pace I enjoyed best, which was a little faster. The temperature was perfect. The sunset was great. Everyone was in a good mood and having fun. I was paranoid that I'd pop a tire or skid on gravel or suddenly run out of energy and have to call Bobby to rescue me. None of that happened.
When I got to the Sidney Dairy Barn, there was already a line of 20-30 people waiting. I parked my bike next to three people I had been following for the last few miles. They were talkative, friendly, and they biked at a pace very similar to my natural pace. A conversation started. They were very welcoming and it was shockingly easy for me to be my comfortable self. They invited me to bike back with them and we talked and laughed all 11 miles.
We also ate a lot of flying bugs. Blech.
Anyway, when we were back at the park, we exchanged contact information. They invited me to ride with them in a few weeks at the Prairie Cycle Club Tour in Mahomet. That event has several distances (10-100 miles) but these three are planning on biking the 48-miler.
48 miles?! More than DOUBLE the longest biking distance I've EVER attempted in my life?! A distance that would take me 45 minutes to drive in my car?! We're talking a bike ride that is easily 5 hours long. That's CRAZY!
And yet, I just biked 22 miles alright.
My new friend said the course is broken up with snack stops and rest points. It's not a 5-hour death ride.
But what if my bottom can't take anymore after 2 hours? or 3? or 4?
So, I'm thinking about the 28-mile ride instead. With the staggered start times, we will probably finish within 30 minutes of each other and can have lunch together afterwards. I haven't made my mind up to ride, yet, but it sounds like fun. And I like the idea of not doing it alone :(
This is an interesting phase in my life right now. I'm exploring personal interests that don't overlap much with each other or my current life: farming, cycling/running. It feels a little disjointed and clunky. Almost like I'm living 3 lives at once. Three identities: LDS mother of four, farmer, cycling/running enthusiast. There's no reason these three identities can't co-exist, but there's no overlap right now. Zero. No one in one sphere understands my life in the other two spheres. Not really, anyway. And it's a bit taxing. I wonder how sustainable it is to have three completely separate lives at once.
I'm wondering if this is actually pretty common and I'm only stumbling upon it now.
Why haven't I experienced this before? Hm. Let me think.
As a kid, I had two spheres: church and school. Church kids still knew what school life was like, even if my friend circles didn't overlap. And when I moved to Utah, even the school kids knew somewhat what church life was like, even if they weren't LDS.
Same thing in college at the University of Utah.
In grad school, I had two spheres: grad school and LDS woman. Even if my female LDS friends weren't in grad school at the time, their spouses were, so there was some overlap there. The grad school folks didn't get my church life. It didn't bother me, though.
As a mother of young children, I had only one sphere: LDS mother of young children. And I pretty much only hung out with young mothers, LDS or otherwise. Not on purpose, really, but our needs were similar enough that we spent time in many of the same places doing many of the same things.
Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing (not the first time for me *ahem*). Why do I feel the need to merge my social spheres better? I don't know. Gotta think about this some more.
 |
| James points the phone at me and says, "Smile!" |
Monday, July 23, 2018
Boxes
I was at the farm this morning. My boss was a few minutes late, so I started in on the cucumber harvest...again...I've done little more than harvest cucumbers for the past week. I wasn't really looking forward to it this morning, but I could appreciate how much I've learned about growing and harvesting cucumbers in such a short time. I had only picked 3 cucumbers by the time my boss arrived. Saved!
He confirmed that I was planning to extend my hours once the kids went back to school, then decided it was worth introducing me to the irrigation routine. Squeeeeeee! I love this job. I learned how to turn on the irrigation at the well and where to record the irrigation numbers. We moved some microsprinklers around in a field of newly-seeded beets and carrots. I learned how to identify and repair clogs in the line.
Then we harvested head lettuce. Buckets and buckets and buckets of head lettuce. We removed the drip lines from the now empty lettuce beds and moved on to harvesting kohlrabi: grab, stab, toss. Grab, stab, toss. Nice rhythm to it. While I moved down the line hacking away at kohlrabi, another farm hand I didn't know well joined my boss at the fennel.
All I knew from my brief interactions with this woman was she looked to be in her mid-twenties, she swore like a sailor, drank coffee from a Mason jar, and rarely smiled. She had short-cropped hair under a baseball cap, sunglasses, and gave me the impression that she was too cool for this, but wanted to be there. Confusing. I labeled her as too cool, too coarse, and too young for me to spend my limited supply of social energy on.
Then I overheard her and my boss talking about kindergartners and French and a new job and my consciousness whipped around, astonished. What?! It turns out this woman is a brand-new kindergarten teacher. In a French dual-language program. The mental box that I had previously crammed her into completely blew apart. I was shocked and delighted and intensely curious all at once. And because I am *slowly* learning that it's okay to be my honest and weird self with new people, I turned to her and said, "Hold on. I have a problem with putting people into boxes and I did NOT peg you as a kindergarten teacher." She laughed out loud, and swore, and we started talking.
What a delightful surprise! What a shock! I honestly can't remember all the kohlrabi I harvested because of the fascinating conversation we were having. Unbelievable. This was the last day that my work schedule will overlap with hers, but what a lesson:
Stop it with the "people boxes" already!
Sheesh. It's a social shortcut, sure, and a human instinct, but I've really got to cut back. Or maybe invest in a wider variety of boxes ;)
Could I eventually become good friends with this woman? Yesterday, I would have said "no." Today? I don't know! That's a good feeling, actually, to be surprised in a positive way. It opens up so many possibilities.
This farm, man. It's so much more than growing vegetables.
He confirmed that I was planning to extend my hours once the kids went back to school, then decided it was worth introducing me to the irrigation routine. Squeeeeeee! I love this job. I learned how to turn on the irrigation at the well and where to record the irrigation numbers. We moved some microsprinklers around in a field of newly-seeded beets and carrots. I learned how to identify and repair clogs in the line.
Then we harvested head lettuce. Buckets and buckets and buckets of head lettuce. We removed the drip lines from the now empty lettuce beds and moved on to harvesting kohlrabi: grab, stab, toss. Grab, stab, toss. Nice rhythm to it. While I moved down the line hacking away at kohlrabi, another farm hand I didn't know well joined my boss at the fennel.
All I knew from my brief interactions with this woman was she looked to be in her mid-twenties, she swore like a sailor, drank coffee from a Mason jar, and rarely smiled. She had short-cropped hair under a baseball cap, sunglasses, and gave me the impression that she was too cool for this, but wanted to be there. Confusing. I labeled her as too cool, too coarse, and too young for me to spend my limited supply of social energy on.
Then I overheard her and my boss talking about kindergartners and French and a new job and my consciousness whipped around, astonished. What?! It turns out this woman is a brand-new kindergarten teacher. In a French dual-language program. The mental box that I had previously crammed her into completely blew apart. I was shocked and delighted and intensely curious all at once. And because I am *slowly* learning that it's okay to be my honest and weird self with new people, I turned to her and said, "Hold on. I have a problem with putting people into boxes and I did NOT peg you as a kindergarten teacher." She laughed out loud, and swore, and we started talking.
What a delightful surprise! What a shock! I honestly can't remember all the kohlrabi I harvested because of the fascinating conversation we were having. Unbelievable. This was the last day that my work schedule will overlap with hers, but what a lesson:
Stop it with the "people boxes" already!
Sheesh. It's a social shortcut, sure, and a human instinct, but I've really got to cut back. Or maybe invest in a wider variety of boxes ;)
Could I eventually become good friends with this woman? Yesterday, I would have said "no." Today? I don't know! That's a good feeling, actually, to be surprised in a positive way. It opens up so many possibilities.
This farm, man. It's so much more than growing vegetables.
Friday, July 20, 2018
Dog Days
This week has been hard. Not just busy, but difficult. I've crashed into several painful emotions over and over and it's worn me down. I feel weathered.
Loss of friends.
Good/old friends moving. Living in a university town, people move in and out like clockwork over the summer. Some years are harder than others, depending on how close I am with the folks moving out. This has been a sad, sad summer of loss. A pretty intense week. Four good/old friends leaving. I've done this time and time again, but it still stings. I haven't had time to mourn them properly, so it feels like an open wound.
New love for family.
Family closeness and distance. I spent last weekend with my siblings and parents at my sister's wedding. Bobby and the kids stayed in Illinois. I was confused about which role to play, since I wasn't in my usual "mom" mode, and I haven't interacted with my siblings much as an adult. I was, however, able to have some real conversations with real people about issues that matter to me. To us. I got to know my siblings and nieces and nephews better, which genuinely made me happier. I feel like I'm getting to know my family better now than ever I did as a kid living in the same house with them. It was painful to leave just when I felt we were making real progress. I am genuinely looking forward to heading out there again in a few weeks with the whole crew (Evans fam reunion in Idaho).
Loss of processing time.
Summer is dragging, but busier than ever. The magic of summer officially wore off this week :) We were busy with play dates, camps, volunteer activities, music lessons, shuttling Alice to babysitting gigs, working in the garden, and keeping the house livable. I've had very little time to process any of it. When I'm going from one thing to the next without time to process the experience, I plop down at the end of the day feeling like I've done nothing...and yet I'm exhausted. My brain doesn't slow down for sleep. My eyelids can't stay open, but I'm whirring through the schedule already gearing up for the next hundred things on my list. And the kids! Oh, the kids. This week, it's like they're broken: the boys are bickering and hyperaggressive, and the girl could cry about anything at any moment.
Insatiable cravings for impossible things.
Sola Gratia time is never enough. Even when I'm there, I feel like I'm missing out. And when I'm away from it, I wish I were back. I just want to wrap it all up in my arms and understand it. See every moment of it. See why and how and when and who...and be an integral part of it. Nine hours a week is not enough, and yet, it's all I've got right now. This morning, I spent three hours picking cucumbers. That's it. I didn't get to be a part of the 50 other things happening at the same time. I've done the math over and over, and I just can't work full-time at a farm right now. Not for at least 2 more years! And yet, I keep staring at my schedule trying to squeeze another few hours a week out of it. Hours for the farm.
Longing to move my body.
I wish I could exercise regularly again. Our summer schedule is too packed and irregular to fit in a predictable workout routine at the YMCA. And I've been taking a Parent-Child ceramics class with Robert that meets during my weekly run club. There are pockets of time I could use to move my body throughout the day, but I always find something else in the moment that I want/ought to do more. I often stare at my schedule trying to squeeze a few hours out for physical activity, too.
So, that's the long and short of it. Tough week. Lots to work through and not much time for processing. This has helped, though. I just realized that our afternoon quiet time routine has vanished this summer. I'm thinking it's time to bring it back. Maybe that will give me more of the "regenerative" kind of time I really need. Hm.
I'll leave you with a few recent photos. Even though the days are tough, they've also been getting a little better in some ways. All of the kids are old enough now to enjoy some level of humor and word play. We can joke around together and laugh as a group. Most of it is potty humor, but I'll take what I can get at this point ;)
Loss of friends.
Good/old friends moving. Living in a university town, people move in and out like clockwork over the summer. Some years are harder than others, depending on how close I am with the folks moving out. This has been a sad, sad summer of loss. A pretty intense week. Four good/old friends leaving. I've done this time and time again, but it still stings. I haven't had time to mourn them properly, so it feels like an open wound.
New love for family.
Family closeness and distance. I spent last weekend with my siblings and parents at my sister's wedding. Bobby and the kids stayed in Illinois. I was confused about which role to play, since I wasn't in my usual "mom" mode, and I haven't interacted with my siblings much as an adult. I was, however, able to have some real conversations with real people about issues that matter to me. To us. I got to know my siblings and nieces and nephews better, which genuinely made me happier. I feel like I'm getting to know my family better now than ever I did as a kid living in the same house with them. It was painful to leave just when I felt we were making real progress. I am genuinely looking forward to heading out there again in a few weeks with the whole crew (Evans fam reunion in Idaho).
Loss of processing time.
Summer is dragging, but busier than ever. The magic of summer officially wore off this week :) We were busy with play dates, camps, volunteer activities, music lessons, shuttling Alice to babysitting gigs, working in the garden, and keeping the house livable. I've had very little time to process any of it. When I'm going from one thing to the next without time to process the experience, I plop down at the end of the day feeling like I've done nothing...and yet I'm exhausted. My brain doesn't slow down for sleep. My eyelids can't stay open, but I'm whirring through the schedule already gearing up for the next hundred things on my list. And the kids! Oh, the kids. This week, it's like they're broken: the boys are bickering and hyperaggressive, and the girl could cry about anything at any moment.
Insatiable cravings for impossible things.
Sola Gratia time is never enough. Even when I'm there, I feel like I'm missing out. And when I'm away from it, I wish I were back. I just want to wrap it all up in my arms and understand it. See every moment of it. See why and how and when and who...and be an integral part of it. Nine hours a week is not enough, and yet, it's all I've got right now. This morning, I spent three hours picking cucumbers. That's it. I didn't get to be a part of the 50 other things happening at the same time. I've done the math over and over, and I just can't work full-time at a farm right now. Not for at least 2 more years! And yet, I keep staring at my schedule trying to squeeze another few hours a week out of it. Hours for the farm.
Longing to move my body.
I wish I could exercise regularly again. Our summer schedule is too packed and irregular to fit in a predictable workout routine at the YMCA. And I've been taking a Parent-Child ceramics class with Robert that meets during my weekly run club. There are pockets of time I could use to move my body throughout the day, but I always find something else in the moment that I want/ought to do more. I often stare at my schedule trying to squeeze a few hours out for physical activity, too.
So, that's the long and short of it. Tough week. Lots to work through and not much time for processing. This has helped, though. I just realized that our afternoon quiet time routine has vanished this summer. I'm thinking it's time to bring it back. Maybe that will give me more of the "regenerative" kind of time I really need. Hm.
I'll leave you with a few recent photos. Even though the days are tough, they've also been getting a little better in some ways. All of the kids are old enough now to enjoy some level of humor and word play. We can joke around together and laugh as a group. Most of it is potty humor, but I'll take what I can get at this point ;)
 |
| Robert took this picture. Matthew loves to gross him out by kissing me on the lips. |
 |
| We visited the U of I Conservatory with some friends (who move tomorrow *sob*). The misty fog was cool. It wasn't like that the first time we went. The carnivorous plant room was a big hit. The desert room felt dangerous and exciting. I liked the epiphyte room, personally. But the main conservatory shown here had cacao, coffee, and banana trees with actual fruit hanging off of them. That was the hands-down winner. |
 |
| Matthew took this selfie in the Dr's office. Yup, he was wheezing like crazy and had to get an albuterol breathing treatment and oral steroids to open up his lungs. Like in Robert's case of yore, the doc wouldn't call it asthma until it had happened several times. They let us keep the nebulizer, though, just in case ;) Matthew loved the breathing treatments once we let him watch 10 minutes of Curious George or Daniel Tiger during them. |
 |
| Another adorable pose by this little charmer. He's trying on Alice's glasses. |
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Pear Thieves
I leave Illinois for a single weekend and come home to a pear tree completely stripped of all its fruit. No, a few teeny green pears remained on the very ends of the thinnest branches. Were they too small for the furry thieves? Or too unripe? No matter. The rest are completely gone. Cores and all.
Surprisingly, I'm not angry.
We planted fruit trees our first spring in this house (2010) with visions of bountiful harvests. It's been quite the learning experience. The pear thieves have made one thing abundantly clear: even if I could prune, dung, water, and nurture these trees to become their healthy best, and even if I managed to stay one hair ahead of the constant threat of fungal attack and insect damage, there is very little I could do to keep the squirrels away...
...wrap the tree canopy in chicken wire? Hideous, impractical.
...hunt down and destroy every squirrel family within a quarter mile radius? Repeat quarterly.
*sigh*
No, I think it's time to throw in the towel on microscale orcharding in my backyard :(
I'm not terrifically upset at this decision. I may even have put it off another season or two if the garden infrastructure I purchased 10 years ago weren't approaching the end of its lifespan. I'm looking at a total overhaul in the next couple of years, and if I had my druthers, it could look a little like this:
Surprisingly, I'm not angry.
We planted fruit trees our first spring in this house (2010) with visions of bountiful harvests. It's been quite the learning experience. The pear thieves have made one thing abundantly clear: even if I could prune, dung, water, and nurture these trees to become their healthy best, and even if I managed to stay one hair ahead of the constant threat of fungal attack and insect damage, there is very little I could do to keep the squirrels away...
...wrap the tree canopy in chicken wire? Hideous, impractical.
...hunt down and destroy every squirrel family within a quarter mile radius? Repeat quarterly.
*sigh*
No, I think it's time to throw in the towel on microscale orcharding in my backyard :(
I'm not terrifically upset at this decision. I may even have put it off another season or two if the garden infrastructure I purchased 10 years ago weren't approaching the end of its lifespan. I'm looking at a total overhaul in the next couple of years, and if I had my druthers, it could look a little like this:
Mwah ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaa! Squirrels make me crazy.
Monday, July 9, 2018
Biggest Toilet
We traveled to Columbus, Indiana with Erin last week to check out one of the largest toilets in the world. We drive to Indianapolis, stayed the night in a hotel, then drove another hour to the children's museum housing our destination.
 |
| Alice playing "Watch Ya Mouth" with Erin and Robert during the long drive. |
 |
| Loving the TV in the hotel room. |
 |
| The largest toilet...not as cool as we had hoped. |
 |
| Lunch and ice cream after the museum. Matthew almost imploded waiting 30 minutes for his mac and cheese. Slowest. Service. Ever. |
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| Some people I really, really love being really, really silly. |
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| Robert ate an enormous, greasy lunch followed by a monstrous root beer float. Then he felt too sick to walk. I wondered if he would throw up, but we got lucky this time. He was fully recovered by the time we had to get back into the car. |
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| Enormous indoor playground with a 3-story climbing structure. Kids loved it! |
I hope they remember...
I have no idea what the kids will remember about their childhoods, but I hope they remember moments like these:
--Huddling around Bobby as he tests the next iteration of their homemade "ping pong ball shooter". Alice and Robert hope to use it as part of an elaborate "room defense" system.
--Huddling around Bobby as he tests the next iteration of their homemade "ping pong ball shooter". Alice and Robert hope to use it as part of an elaborate "room defense" system.
--Spending part of their allowance on spray whipped cream. The woman at the register raised her eyebrows a little and chuckled as each kid clutched his or her own can of Reddi-Whip. I made the kids wait until they were in the car before cracking any of it open...
 |
| Straight into the mouth |
 |
| Whoops, a little overfilled. |
 |
| James still struggling to get his container open while Robert (behind) is already filling his cheeks. |
Thursday, July 5, 2018
Wise James
Two life lessons from a 5-year-old (I learned them this week):
1) When you're biking and you come upon a little hill, bike harder. And faster. Don't slow down.
2) Exasperated that I wasn't giving him everything he wanted right when he wanted it this morning, James screeched, "You never listen to me!" It's true that I had said "no" to several of his requests. Even I was getting frustrated having to tell him "no" so much. But it occurred to me to ask him a question, "When exactly did you feel I wasn't listening to you?"
*silence*
"Was it because I didn't give you what you wanted in the store?"
*pause* "Yes."
"Did I completely ignore you or did I answer your questions?"
*silence*
He didn't bring up the subject again, but I was the one stunned to silence. How many times have I equated "being heard" with getting what I want when I want it? So, so many times.
James recovered pretty well after this incident. By the end of the day, we were on a walk with Alice and Matthew, playfully shaking rain from tree branches on each other's heads.
1) When you're biking and you come upon a little hill, bike harder. And faster. Don't slow down.
2) Exasperated that I wasn't giving him everything he wanted right when he wanted it this morning, James screeched, "You never listen to me!" It's true that I had said "no" to several of his requests. Even I was getting frustrated having to tell him "no" so much. But it occurred to me to ask him a question, "When exactly did you feel I wasn't listening to you?"
*silence*
"Was it because I didn't give you what you wanted in the store?"
*pause* "Yes."
"Did I completely ignore you or did I answer your questions?"
*silence*
He didn't bring up the subject again, but I was the one stunned to silence. How many times have I equated "being heard" with getting what I want when I want it? So, so many times.
James recovered pretty well after this incident. By the end of the day, we were on a walk with Alice and Matthew, playfully shaking rain from tree branches on each other's heads.
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| Fourth of July Parade cuteness. |
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| Devouring parade candy and playing a new game together. Not a bad way to stay cool on a stinking hot holiday. |
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