A Day in the Life: Summer Edition

Happy 4th! We're getting ready
to see some fireworks!

I've heard of parents who dread summer, because the kids are home so they have to actually parent for hours on end. For me, it's exactly the opposite: kids are home, and all I have to do is be a parent! (And usually some freelance work, and deep-cleaning, and plan the school year, and catch up on photo albums, etc.)

I've been waiting to try to blog about a typical summer day, until we actually had a typical summer day. And finally I realized there's no such thing as a typical summer day. They're all different. So here's today, a Wednesday in the middle of a relatively quiet week:

The day starts at 12:39 a.m., when I hear a child get up, sense through my eyelids that she's turned on the hall light, and hear her enter the bathroom. I've been asleep probably about 45 minutes, so this feels downright painful. My mind races, wondering how she'll manage the kittens, who sleep in that bathroom with the door closed, and hoping she doesn't end up having to chase them through the house to put them back in. Because that means I'll be chasing them through the house as well. I also hope she's put the lid back down on the toilet, because whenever someone forgets to, we usually discover that the hard way: via freaked wet kitten tearing through the house. Fortunately, the only thing she forgets is to turn off the hall light, and that's relatively easy for me to remedy. Silence again, and fortunately I make it right back to sleep. Most nights this doesn't happen, but middle-of-the-night wakings never really end for a mommy.

At 7:00, I let the kitties out of their bathroom and into the girls' bedroom because they're far better alarm clocks and child-wakers than I am. We're tempted to let the girls sleep, but that so often leads to the older girls outlasting at least Matt at night. Technically my goal is to get them used to 6:30 or 6:45, and COVID, with all its cancelled activities, will help with that. Since it's summer, and there are kittens, the girls wake up and get out of bed fairly easily. 

They dive right into their morning jobs, which also didn't happen very easily before kittens. Naomi handles all the bunny caretaking, Elise empties the dishwasher and assists her sisters with their jobs, and Kalina does the kitten caretaking, including scooping and sweeping litter every day. I help with any deep cleaning. They also dress and get ready for breakfast. Nobody makes their bed because everyone sleeps on top of the covers since it's summer and that's easier. I have tried to fight this battle, but can't argue with the logic. The only real downside is that whenever I wash sheets, I'm actually washing comforters, which are bulky and huge, but honestly much easier than putting clean sheets on any lofted or bunked bed--which describes all three of our girls'. So again, I can't blame them.

Today, they manage the routine super seamlessly with no crises. Today. Elise tells me she had to remind her sisters that they're supposed to get dressed and have their jobs done before they come to the breakfast table, and inwardly I cheer as things move efficiently along, During breakfast, we do some reading and discussing, and go over a plan or two.

The kittens love snoozing in
our scrap box.

It helps when Elise is highly motivated by an activity she's looking forward to, and this morning she's done in record time because she's excited about making homemade cards with rubber stamps and embossing equipment. Even though it's a messy, high-maintenance activity that I know Naomi will need lots of help with when she inevitably joins in, I give Elise the go-ahead to get started as I've been promising fancy crafts like embossing all summer. Her sisters soon join her, and Elise's good mood starts to dwindle as she finds she has to share supplies. "I was planning to do this alone," she grumbles, eyeing me meaningfully. But nothing is done alone in this house, Child! Haven't you learned that? Except possibly when I clean bathrooms--nobody joins me then.

Naomi soon moves to just stamping, which is thankfully more fun for her at this point and much simpler for me. "Where can I hang this so everyone will see it?" she wonders, showing me a paper full of kittens, puppies, bunnies and paw prints. Her papers are now hung all over the living room. Kalina makes a very artistic card or two, but she mostly had her fill yesterday when she and Elise embossed while Naomi had her virtual piano lesson. Many of the stamps we're using, as well as embossing powder, are from my childhood, so we enjoy chatting about that a bit. Kalina and Elise are each working on making a set to use as thank-you notes and general cards. Naomi is just having fun.

Meanwhile, I straighten the house, put the couch pillows back on the couch, and make moves toward my computer, which I'm using a lot these days for an intense freelance assignment I'm in the thick of, planning for the school year, completing the 2019 photo album, and all the other things. I have to give up--there's too much going on.

If you look closely, you can see a raccoon
snitching from a bird feeder. It soon
waddled calmly away.

When Kalina's finished stamping, she looks aimless so I ask her if she wants to work on the board game we're creating together. It's called Symbiosis: Pond, and she came up with the idea, albeit prairie-themed initially, when we were hiking through a mini prairie together. We spend 15 minutes or so brainstorming ideas for different game events, and make some good progress. We attack things from entirely different angles, but agree about enough things that we're able to make it work. 

Afterward, Naomi reads a book about dogs aloud to me while I redo her French braids. She insists on French braids every day, and has for nearly a year now. I don't mind too much since they're cute and keep her hair neat, but it takes a good 10 minutes every day.

Hiking the arboretum one lovely
morning!

I decide I need to Get Something Done, even though it's summer (especially since it's summer?), and I begin to get out and assemble the drawer organizer I picked up for Elise's desk yesterday. Everyone wants to help, so I become management, and Kalina and Elise are labor. We get stuck on jamming the castors in, so we save them for later/Daddy, and instead put kittens in the drawers, which the kittens don't seem to mind, and would quite possibly choose for themselves, if they were allowed a choice in the matter.

After this, Elise finishes stamping, and I make everyone clean up together. It's a lot to clean up. I straighten the house and put the pillows back on the couches, then finish the little bits of cleanup they miss.

Some mornings, and especially at the beginning of summer when it's all so fresh, the girls all go off and play with Legos, or put together a play, or do crafts independently, or go outside, or whatever, while I can tackle my work, but this is destined to be more of a scattered morning for me as we zip from one activity that needs mild amounts of help or supervision to another. I could of course, put a stop to it, but it's summer so I don't mind too much. 

As no one is making any moves to doing anything interesting on their own, I push my work aside and move on to another project that's on my list. I've been promising the girls since June that we'll make garden stones together to put in the strawberry patch for easier picking, and we've purchased the supplies. We're finally going to get started, but that means we need to figure out our designs. So the girls open all the bags and begin piecing together the stones, mosaic style. I'm only needed for initial organization, so I sneak off for 20 minutes and get some freelance work done, and shoot off a few emails, and begin this blog. 

I listen as the girls argue about stones, and resolve it themselves. A win! They finish their designs and we take pictures, then organize and put away the stones. Naomi gets upset because it's found that a kitten has chewed up a puzzle piece from her favorite puppy puzzle, which she was completing on the floor. Since she's had it out several days and I've warned her multiple times that if she doesn't keep her pieces picked up, the kittens will bite them, I don't feel too bad for her, but I help her put in some pieces for a few minutes to jumpstart finishing it up. She bemoans the mishap for a bit, then proudly finishes the puzzle within 20 minutes or so.

Kalina has been playing with kittens and the box from Elise's drawer organizer, and Elise has been re-organizing her desk.

Unbelievably, it's nearly lunchtime. I decide on bagels because it seems like we've done everything else recently. Elise pops in and helps a bit, and then everyone else shows up. Shortly after sitting down, I realize it's about to rain, and I wish I'd made them all go outside this morning, since it could rain most of the afternoon. Regardless, I then realize we haven't harvested any blackberries lately and I want to do it before the grass is all wet. We all interrupt the end of lunch to do so, and find our biggest harvest yet--about 15.

After lunch, I make everyone tackle our job for the day. During the summer, I try really hard to make sure they're working and building life skills. Today, our job is to clean and vacuum the van, which really needs it. They've done this plenty of times before, but never very well, so we're going to practice more often. They spend more time playing around than cleaning, but progress is made and, besides, we can do it again next week.

Meanwhile, a friend of mine contacts me for advice about homeschool curriculum, since she's having a baby Friday and her girls' school still doesn't know what they're doing for next year. She's homeschooled before, and would rather homeschool again than do virtual school, but doesn't want to wait to figure it out, for obvious reasons. I send her photos and help her explore options, all via text and while checking on the van-cleaning project. Then another friend texts me with virtually the same question, but for her preschooler.

Afterward, we embark on the big event of the day: taking Kalina to the music store to switch out her too-small viola for a bigger size. We tried to do this last week when she auditioned for the orchestra, but as my temperature was elevated, most likely due to a hot car, I wasn't allowed inside to work on the instrument contract. My temperature had returned to normal by the time we arrived at home, but this still necessitates a second trip, and 22-minute drive. I blasted the air conditioning, even though it was a cool day. 

We have baby skinks in our
yard!

At the shop, we wear our masks without any kind of a fuss, and are not temperature checked this time. We are quickly shown two violas, and Kalina is measured against each. Elise and Naomi explore the music books, finding some for a few of their favorite soundtracks. We wonder if they would be good to think about. Elise and Naomi start to get a little bit too active for a music store, though, so they begin telling stories to each other. Thank goodness. We get everything we need, I fill out the detailed form and agree to care for the instrument, and we're on our way.

After acquiring the viola, since we are out anyway and there is a frozen yogurt shop nearby and we've had no frozen yogurt probably since last summer, at least as a group, and it's nearly snacktime, and it's cool enough we can easily eat in the car, we...you guessed it...had some frozen yogurt. The kids were amused by the fact that they weren't allowed to approach the toppings bar, and I had to explain, in my most blame-free, diplomatic tone, of course, that not all kids are clean and tidy when it comes to yogurt toppings. Kalina chooses a yummy-looking watermelon and pineapple sorbet combo, and Elise and Naomi both opt for cookies and cream. The each try a little of my favorite, pistachio. Their creations are variously topped with gummy frogs, Nerds, and mango poppers. 

We enjoy our yogurt in the car, and Elise names her gummy frogs John and Trissa before eating them. When we arrive home, we read a chapter of Peter Pan before I send everyone off to presumably do their own thing. Kalina digs around on the bookshelf for the next Harry Potter, and Elise tells me about a hanging decoration she's planning to make using the extra stones from our stepping stone project. Naomi is bored. They popcorn in and out, jolting me out of any concentration I'd gained every 2 minutes or so. Clearly, this was not going to be a highly productive day. But it's summer, and sometimes these scattered, unplanned, unproductive days are just what we need. Just not too many of them in a row...

Meanwhile, my freelance client keeps. sending. notes. about work that needs to be done. It won't stop. This was all day yesterday, too. Everybody needs support, all the time, immediately.

When you are a cat in our house, you
get covered and read to while you nap.

At 4:58 I realize it's finally quiet with some promise of it remaining quiet for more than 2 minutes. The older girls are upstairs and Naomi is drawing happily. Then I hear Matt's car door slam, and he jolts in the door with stories. I realize I have a conversation in front of me, music practice to supervise and supper to get so I give up on the idea of getting more than a smattering of computer work done. It'll have to wait until late tonight--not ideal, but I'm really, really used to it.

After chatting a bit with Matt, I tackle piano with Naomi, for whom the instrument was proving difficult while her brain was fully occupied by learning to read. Lately, however, she's been laser-focused (when she's actually playing and not distracted) and is zipping through her books. I've noticed this with the other girls, too--their music-reading skills dwindle when they're working really hard on reading, but then pick up again when they're comfortably reading. Naomi still likes me to be with her for moral support, plus she's really still learning. Since their lesson was just the day before and all her pieces are new, she needs me the whole time, but by the end of the week, she'll be fine on her own. She also has been enjoying noodling around on her own, and playing old pieces.

Naomi draws some more while I chop veggies and put pasta on to boil and then I send her up to round everyone else up and tell them it's dinnertime. Elise comes right away and fills me in on the past hour while grating Parmesan cheese for me. She's been singing lullabies to Poppy, and working on the craft project she told me about earlier, using the broken stones from the stepping stone project. She's gluing broken halves together, and then hanging them from a popsicle stick frame to make a hanging decoration. It sounds really cool. 

The rest of the family trickle in. They are surprised to see that there's not food ready to dish up, despite the fact that I'm trying to train everyone that dinnertime means finishing helping getting dinner, not necessarily seating down to a fairytale feast that has magically appeared. We divvy up the last-minute jobs, which they are at least well-trained enough to actually do without much of a fuss, and are able to well, even if they sometimes choose not to out of spite. It's only taken, oh, say, six months. Naomi folds the napkins to look like bunnies. 

The older girls heartily dish up plain pasta for themselves (but at least it's whole-wheat!), along with garlic bread and strawberries. Naomi opts for garlic bread and strawberries--pretty typical. Towards the end of the meal, Matt ropes them into doing a short Spanish lesson, which they all gripe about with gusto, which annoys him no end (I totally understand--this occasionally happens during school, too). I keep every one of my thoughts to myself, grateful that he's the one pushing this through and not me, and grateful that it's getting done, and grateful that they are actually picking it up, and also grateful that I'm picking it up while I start the dishes. And grateful that they're hearing the message of, "Stop whining, this is not the end of the world unless you make it be" from someone other than me.

After dinner, we usually take a long walk as a family, or occasionally play a game. Our walks usually end up strung out, with either Elise and Naomi running ahead, or Naomi and I lagging behind, or Kalina and Matt in earnest conversation about something super-interesting, or any other combination. Naomi likes to tell fill-in-the-blank stories, as she calls her homemade, on-the-spot Mad Libs, or Fortunately-Unfortunately stories, which always end up taking us to other planet and/or getting drenched in endless rain. We often to walk to the "origin," which is where the girls think all the crinoid fossils in the stream originate before getting washed down. We have found some nice ones in the bank there, but I'm pretty sure they're elsewhere, too. The girls are usually prepared with wading sandals, and occasionally nets and buckets.

This night, however, it's raining and, besides, there's a lot of music practice left to do, so we focus on finishing up. They all enjoy their instruments, but not the practice, so there's a lot of dawdling. I start with Elise.

Elise is thoroughly enjoying her voice lessons and is doing very well, possibly fighting Matt's genes as singing does not come naturally and she was not blessed with perfect pitch, through no fault of her own. Although she's only had a couple in-person voice lessons in addition to months of virtual ones, I can tell she's grown a ton, both in her abilities and her confidence, and she's sounding great. But she'd still rather play with kittens and chat with me than practice. Still, we make it fun, especially since she's excited about her new piece. I play along with her to help her with pitch-matching and to help her stay on task, social creature that she is. 

Elise and Naomi are then tasked with getting ready for bed. Naomi usually accomplishes this task in record time. Elise usually has too many other things to do.

It's now Kalina's turn to try out her new viola. It's bigger, so we discuss whether or not to put on tapes for her fingers. And we admire the brand-new, shiny rosin it came with, and she fits on the nice, new shoulder rest. She hardly played the viola in the store, probably being shy of playing in front of the person helping us. So she's absolutely delighted when she hears the richer, deeper tone of a larger instrument, and even more happy to hear that the next size up will be richer and deeper yet. Although we have a new book for her--the book she'll use in orchestra this fall--she wisely decides that since her new instrument will take some getting used to, she should go back and play older, familiar pieces. Kalina doesn't need much help, so I finish cleaning up the kitchen.

Naomi is now finished getting ready for bed, so I make my way upstairs to read to her. We're reading through the Mrs. Piggle Wiggle books, which are great fun, albeit sometimes eyebrow-raising. Naomi's getting an education not only in which types of poor behavior annoy parents (super helpful, I've already seen improvement!), but also in parenting practices on the 1940s. I have to explain a few things as we read to clear up her occasional confusion. But the writing just sparkles, and we both get in a few giggles. Elise, who's heard them all before, is rereading them herself. 

Matt is reading The Hobbit to the older girls, which he tried to read to them a year or two ago. Kalina enjoyed it then, but Elise was quite scared and refused to finish. Now, they're both loving it. They always let the bunny out while they read, occasionally letting Posy in as well (but not Poppy, as Poppy wants too much to play with the bunny), and sometimes Elise crafts.

After we finish our portion of Hello Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, I help Naomi write in her diary. She's been keeping a diary since early May, and is tonight starting her second notebook, which she's torn all the used pages out of since she's had this notebook for some time. Although she occasionally writes her own entries, and does very well with them, I usually take dictation just to speed things up since it's bedtime. Every entry, she lists what she ate for each meal (which I find astonishing, given the fact that she doesn't enjoy most foods) and then something special that happened that day, which today will be the frozen yogurt. Tonight, Elise is in the room and comments on some of the things she writes in her diary, which never include what she ate. I succeed in smoothing this slight bit of snarkiness. Since it's her first entry in her second notebook, she wants to do the writing. She occasionally wants help with spelling, but I'm heading to the basement soon to talk via Zoom to a friend I'm doing a book study with, so Elise good-naturedly agrees to be available. Elise also volunteers to read the last half of the chapter we were on in Mrs. Piggle Wiggle aloud to Naomi. I remind them of lights-out time and pass out hugs, and then say goodnight to Kalina. It's about 8:30, which is perfect.

Naomi gets scared without anyone else in the room, so I usually require Elise to read with her booklight until she turns out her light, while trying to hide it from Elise that that's what I'm doing. I think she knows. Kalina does the same eventually, but often has to shower or practice her viola even after The Hobbit, plus I think it's good for Kalina to have a privilege that Elise doesn't have. Elise usually gets annoyed at having to read in bed starting at 8:30 or 8:45 or so, but I personally think she has it pretty good, and quite reasonable. And eventually Naomi won't be afraid anymore--Kalina grew out of it just fine. 

Kalina sewed this lovely sleep
mask because sometimes Elise's
headlamp is bright when Kalina
is trying to sleep. Hmmm...

Many nights, Naomi pops down for a second hug, Elise brings a kitten down just to say hi, and Kalina comes over to chat after viola practice. There's also often some whispering, giggling, and storytelling. This is sweet and usually doesn't get out of hand. Usually. Even with whispering and giggling, they're virtually always well-rested and good-natured the next day, so it seems as though there's not actually a problem. 

When I check on everyone at 11:30 or so (I had a LOT of work to do after my call), they're all in dreamland. Occasionally the older girls, and especially Elise, are not if I come in earlier, but we're used to the routine of just turning on the headlamp for 5 minutes and reading and trying again. Usually if I check on them 20 minutes after that, they're out. 

And that's a wrap! 

A day

Twizzler DNA

Today I woke up in a semi-panic. My to-do list:
1. Naomi to ballet. Do not forget; take the poor girl, who missed 3 out of 4 January classes, to ballet.
2. Kalina MUST work on her two papers. MUST.
3. The upstairs cleaning that was supposed to happen yesterday still needs to happen.
4. Make meringue cookies for the co-op's Valentine party on Wednesday, because time is even shorter tomorrow and Kalina's been begging me to let her make these.
5. Compile a total of 88 valentines spread across three girls
6. Have Kalina and Elise practice piano for the first Kansas City piano lesson tomorrow.
7. Meals + snacks
8. Clean downstairs, too, if at all possible. And vacuuming would be totally amazing.
9. At least 2 loads of laundry, maybe 3.
10. Snow play?
11. Routine cleanup, dishes, refereeing, playing baby bunny, etc.

Plus the usual amount of schoolwork.

I began by shaving my sweater. The girls were curious, as was Matt: does that thing really work? How? Can I try? Can we empty it out and can we see what the sweater fluff looks like? Do we have to throw the fluff away (okay, they didn't actually ask that, but I know they were thinking it and I was surprised it didn't come up)? Although this item wasn't on my to-do list, it proved to be as satisfying as pretty much the rest of it. Progress!! Immediate, visible progress that doesn't get immediately undone!! It's like a drug.

At the time of sweater shaving, the girls were all in various stages of the routine called "getting ready for the day." I reminded those who needed reminding (seriously, don't we do this every day?) and helped those who needed help, with reaching outfits, brushing hair, etc. When I woke the girls at 7:15 (before the sweater), I found Naomi carefully lining up small stuffies on her bed rail. Apparently, there was already drama: one animal refused to admit that it was the bunny's turn to be line leader. Fortunately, Naomi is as good at solving her animals' conflicts as she is creating them. She was dressed in good time, and soon busy lining up all her animals, this time through her doorway and into the hallway--this time there were no line leader negotiations, as they had been fully resolved earlier. The older girls had a chuckle when I mentioned the hallway needed to be cleaned as part of morning routine. "Um, Mom, I think that's going to be a challenge!" they smiled. Soon, however, the troop of stuffies had somehow made its way downstairs, possibly by being tossed individually, and the hallway was clean shortly after breakfast, thanks to good moods and the fact that I'd whisked away not-cleaned-up possessions in a laundry basket, not to be seen again for a week, in recent memory.

Over breakfast, we chatted about our upcoming presentations for Classical Conversations, and reviewed the schedule for the day. Everyone was quick and cheerful, and I was able to whip off a couple emails while they cleaned the hallway (albeit breakfast dishes still on the counter), trying to reserve a TV for the writing class I'm teaching Wednesday and signing up for a field trip to a bakery (which I knew would be full by lunchtime). I also communicated some details about a field trip to the art museum I'm planning for Classical Conversations. Then I finished most of the breakfast dishes, and brushed my teeth and braces, which just takes a while. I put all the couch pillows back on the couches, even though they never stay there long.

As the hallway was nearly clean, I headed upstairs to let the girls know I wanted to vacuum, and pushed them to also straighten their room. They amazingly put up no fuss. Soon enough, however, Elise was hiding in the playroom because, "It seems like Kalina always takes Naomi's side when we have arguments!" Not wanting to begin a she-said she-said while I was on such a roll with cleanup, I hugged her for a while and told her she could hide out for a bit. Kalina and Naomi were all smiles, but actually got the room clean, so I finished my vacuuming. Except the playroom, which might not actually get cleaned, ever, between Christmas and spring break.

I figured Elise could use some more time, so I told Kalina to grab 10 Skittles from one of two gigantic boxes of Skittles (seriously?) her Nutcracker buddy had given her during the Nutcracker and sent her down to practice "the tricky part in Fur Elise" 10 times. She joyfully trotted off, and I finished breakfast dishes, threw in some laundry and cleaned up in the schoolroom, not only to start the day but also because my hopes were up for getting to vacuum another level today.

Back in the fall, we made blood out of
kitchen ingredients! They will
remember this one forever.

Naomi made her way downstairs with some stuffies and started dragging out blankets and couch pillows to make beds for all of them. I reasoned that Elise could probably use a visit, and I found her standing in a wooden cradle and gazing out the window. We went downstairs together, no more mention of the argument. By this time Kalina was done, so we all began school with a little Bible verse study, Valentine's-Day themed. Kalina and I then dove into her writing work, outlining a report on Sacagawea, which went pretty well since the interruptions were minimal and I was actively participating. Elise worked independently through some three-digit, subtraction-with-renaming word problems, grumbling all the way but getting them all correct. I then gave Elise 10 minutes to "see how much of this math review you can do," and she breezed through most of it, needing my help with an old-concept, new-approach problem they threw in 3/4 of the way toward the end. She decided to have her "banana break," as did Naomi, and then we worked through spelling together, while Kalina kept plugging away at her outline, still making real progress.

Not sure anyone could be
terrified of this princess
monster! I think she forgot
she was wearing a crown.

Naomi, meanwhile, was knee-deep in the project of cleaning out and reorganizing her play tent, wearing her ballet slippers. Out came brownies, pancakes (with toppings!), Lego Snow White, an assortment of necklaces, blankets, and more. She kept the couch pillow she'd claimed, along with a blanket, and added a nice doll/stuffie bed with handles, a doll and a baby bottle. She then put together a similar setup for her purple stuffed bunny.

Rather unfortunately, Naomi was also listening to the piano's "demo" feature, which plays a loop of mostly horrid songs. We all get annoyed with it, but Naomi adores turning it on and letting it run. The first song is pretty and she doesn't notice the rest, so she could listen all day. The rest of us couldn't, however, and Kalina's very reasonable suggestion of turning it down completely disrupted Naomi's peace. No agreement could be reached, even after Mommy set the limit, so the piano went off and Naomi pitched a major fit more annoying, by far, than the piano. Fortunately, she ran out of steam after just a couple minutes and returned to a placid, cheerful state.

As Kalina's progress was coming to an end, and it had been nearly an hour, I moved her to cursive and spelling, while I worked on Elise's writing assignment with her (which is mostly a simple mix of listening, answering questions in complete sentences and copywork). Today we got to read a poem, which Elise liked, and Naomi readily sat through, still tired from her meltdown. After that, we  read Madeline, which Naomi had waited patiently for and which worked well alongside Elise's poetry work. Elise then headed off to copy a stanza of the poem (capital letters at the beginning of each line!), and I played Mommy and baby bunny with Naomi for a couple minutes before helping her get ready for ballet. Then she wanted a bun, so I did the best I could with a ponytail holder and 4 bobby pins--which was enough to not fall completely out during class, only partially.

On the way to ballet, we reviewed our Classical Conversations memory work, using the CD with the songs on it. Naomi happily danced into class, where she gleefully fulfilled the all-important role of Line Leader, and actually followed the teacher rather well, despite all her missed classes. Soooo cute. Kalina dug into Captain's Dog, a book about Lewis and Clark told from the dog's point of view (totally up her alley), taking a break only to work on a periodic table scavenger hunt I'd printed off for her. Elise read a chapter of her latest Sophie Mouse book, but soon preferred to discuss imaginary animals that could live in Eliseland instead. Besides, she likes to savor her books one chapter at a time, lest she finish them too soon (don't we all know that feeling?) Fortunately, she'd brought paper and pencils, so we could draw the animals we thought of, and then name them, and next discuss their characteristics, as well as the general governance of Eliseland. I'd been anticipating using the time to plan the Wednesday writing class, but, well, imaginary animals are more fun anyway.

Sometimes Naomi still naps at
downtime!

Back at home, I gave Kalina the task of de-bunning Naomi and helping her get changed while I made lunch and Elise helped/tasted. Or tasted/helped--her favorite task. During lunch we chatted a bit, and then reviewed more memory work. Afterward, Kalina was sent off to practice piano and Elise to do handwriting while I quickly cleared dishes, brushed my teeth and took Naomi up for downtime. On this particular day, the older girls were so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they didn't sit in on stories. Naomi had chosen a ballet book and was able to very sweetly try all the moves uninterrupted. She also chose Madeline again, and I was able to answer all her questions and we were able to count all the girls in the two straight lines, several different ways, again with no interruptions. Shortly after, however, Kalina breezed in with her book and planted herself on her top bunk, not wanting to come down even for her own story (Olga Meets Her Match, by the author of Paddington), I think still upset from a question she'd gotten wrong earlier. No problem--I enjoyed reading Elise's choice to her--a humorous book about becoming president (she does not want to).

After the story, I let Elise grab a box of Valentines and get started assembling them, and since Kalina was still upstairs and Elise is such a companionable little being, I let her sit beside me and work on them during downtime. She tried her best to keep conversation to a minimum (but not a complete lull--a nice amount), respecting the fact that I had more emails to answer, math workbooks to order and planning to do (for that writing class), and did a great job putting together a fraction of the 43 valentines she's responsible for.

About 20 minutes before the end of downtime, I began to hear a few too many noises from upstairs. Apparently Kalina was feeling better and she and Naomi were playing--which usually means Kalina has created some huge inventive scenario and there's going to have noise and hilarity and stuff all over. And it was true: as I found out later, Naomi's bed had become a boat, and they needed provisions, among other things, which was somehow related to the reason there were stuffies all over the floor. I let them go because this doesn't usually happen, but I literally heard them bouncing off the walls. Kalina: "Naomi, bounce off the walls!"

Seeing an opportunity, I asked the calm, obedient child if she wanted me to send her sisters outside to play with her in the snow, and she did. Kalina and Naomi, who usually only go outside if forced unless the weather is tropical-island perfect and/or there are popsicles, couldn't argue: they knew they'd been bouncing off the walls. I told them if they stayed out long enough, they could have hot chocolate, and then pushed them all out the door. We got out the sled, and they took a few passes down a very shallow hill in our yard. Soon enough, though, I heard crying and saw a snowy Naomi being walked by her solemn sisters up the super-shallow hill toward the house. She'd fallen off. I accepted the youngest inside ("Yes, Naomi, you'll still get hot chocolate!") and denied the other two--it had been all of 15 minutes and we don't usually have snow.

I'd been using the time to clean up (because there's always cleanup to do), and make progress toward my goal of vacuuming the main level. I put a now-just-fine Naomi to work with a few minor tasks (getting the markers and paper out from under the piano, for instance) and finished the job just as the oldest two were trying, again, to see if they could come in. As it had been 30 minutes, and I wanted to move on, I let them. We did have hot chocolate. I cleaned up the kitchen while they drank and dipped graham crackers, dripping all over themselves and the clean tablecloth. As Kalina was finishing, I broke the terrible news that although she'd finished her old math workbook last week, I had forgotten to order her new one until today! I didn't mind too much--she was delighted at my mistake, and the teachers' guide told me how to begin teaching decimals, which was something Kalina was motivated to learn anyway thanks to a math game she's been playing. In 25 minutes, I managed to get some lightbulbs turned on and introduce some new concepts that would probably need another lesson anyway before she dove independently into the workbook. I sent her and her sisters upstairs with valentines while I thoroughly vacuumed downstairs. Triumph!

Kalina emerged with completed valentines just as I was finishing, and I used the opportunity to rope her into a grammar lesson. We discussed object complement nouns and direct objects while Naomi made stuffie beds on the clean slate of a freshly vacuumed floor, with couch pillows. Our lesson was cut a bit short by the fact that I really, no really, needed to start dinner, but we got the main points. I tried to start Naomi coloring a seal picture she'd wanted (she was really into seals for a while), but she refused it, saying the seals both looked like boys. Although clearly it was a mommy and baby seal, right up her alley, I was in no mood to argue beyond offering to draw eyelashes (she was having none of it). I found her a puppy coloring book and she set to work on one that was "too cute," and that I had to make a copy of before she would color it, apparently the original being too sacred. She then cut it out and I eventually wrote down a story she made up about it after dinner. I began to brown meat and chop veggies for tacos, while Elise worked on her piano, trying one piece from memory.

Matt arrived home and one or more of the girls trailed after him to chat. I finished dinner and let Matt carry the conversation, which he thankfully did. After dinner, we still had meringue cookies to make! I quickly cleaned up a few things and got out the supplies. Matt read to Naomi, and Kalina and Elise switched off on separating egg whites, with only a few mishaps. Kalina then piped the cookies into the shape of hearts (roughly--it was challenging) , while Elise sprinkled them, until she got her hair into the batter one too many times and needed to be sent up with Naomi for a bath. Kalina, who had been stressed out by the pressure of piping hearts, was only too glad to step down to the role of sprinkler, while I finished piping. Into the oven!

While the younger two were bathing, Kalina and I stole 20 minutes to work on her other writing assignment: a hopes and dreams paper. (Kalina, in class: "All my dreams are disasters and all my hopes are unlikely." Pretty often true, actually....) She wanted to write about owning a farm someday and about becoming a gem cutter. We got her thoughts down--enough for a rough draft--and then looked up beautiful photographs of waterfalls and mountains for a few minutes.

Matt had the girls washed, so I simply had to unload Naomi from the tub and coax her into pajamas. I had Kalina help clean up the room, which was still a disaster from the downtime escapades, and then Elise joined us for stories because she didn't like the book Matt's reading to her and Kalina (again, about Lewis and Clark). Miraculously, Naomi didn't put up a fuss that Elise got to choose one of the stories, as it's very rare for Elise to join us. We read peacefully, braided hair, arranged stuffies and hugged goodnight. All very good-naturedly.

I said goodnight to Kalina, too, and then began the rest of my work for the day: finishing dinner dishes, and some more cleanup to the sounds of Matt's new guitar. I sat down to a pile of laundry and Matt and I chatted a bit before he headed upstairs and all was quiet for the first time today.

Quiet! Heavenly, blessed quiet! Most nights, I finish emailing, ordering, planning, etc. Tonight, as I didn't have more pressing issues, I wrote this blog.

Then I noticed that the meringue cookies were still a bit squishy in the middle, which resulted in a flurry of Google queries regarding soft meringue cookies, salmonella, and what to do. I decided it couldn't hurt to stick them back into the oven for another try in the morning, and then reevaluate.

And Matt wonders why I rarely turn out the light until 11:30.

The view from the back of the head

Our beautiful fall hike!

It's a strange perspective, being a mommy. Part launchpad, part coach, part shelter, and part Mama Bear, our role is nearly always behind the scenes. Literally. It's nothing you'd snap a photo of because they're always on their way to do something exciting. Over there. Because they spent the first year of their lives in Mommy's arms, and are ready to branch out (mostly). And when they do go off into the world (even if it's just the living room with their siblings), the view we get is rarely the smiley, confident front. We look down on their sweet little scalps, we see their ears, we see the back of their heads and the sides--all as they're on their way to something else.This is a good thing, of course.

As mommies, we see our kids at their best and their worst--and know that the real child is the best one, of course. Whenever they sleep a little better, whine a little less or eat those veggies, we decide that this must be the new normal, and anything less is the result of a "rough day," or "going through something." Naturally.

But we certainly don't always see our kids head-on, ready to perform. Instead, we see what goes in to making "the best" happen. "The best" sometimes takes a lot of coaxing--we know it's in there, but how do we get them to shine? Virtually always by standing next to them while they practice, walking behind them because they're a bit nervous to go on their own, and literally propping them up

Doesn't every hedgehog love
stroller rides from a cute
1-year-old? This was all
Naomi's doing!

In fact, it's only when they're very tiny, and not yet upright, that we get to see their actual faces a good portion of the time. In fact, for a good month, that's all they want to see. Cute! But all too soon, they have memorized us, just as they have the coat rack, front door and wall, and are ready for something new. Soon, they like being on their tummies--and we kneel beside them as they stare at the toys in front of them. Then they sit, and we sit behind them to keep them from topping over. Next they're pulling up, and we hover over, helping them and occasionally holding them back, but virtually never seeing the pride register on their sweet little faces. And once they begin to learn to walk, holding our hands, we look down on them from our great heights, and can only guess at their expressions. This view doesn't change until they're finally ready to take their first steps--and who better to step toward than Mommy? And for the first time in months, we see their pride and joy--which is, of course, ours as well. And from then on out, we chase. And backseat drive. And chase some more.

Back in August, we had matching outfits
and finally got to show them off!

That's not to say we don't know generally what they're thinking--most of the time, anyway (except when they're pointing emphatically to a crowded counter across the room--"Uh, uh!" and we keep guessing wrong, or refusing to acknowledge the fact that they actually want the large jar of grape jam, which is clearly off-limits).  Plus, I've gotten very good at telling by the backs of the girls' cheekbones whether their expression is delighted or serious.

Elise and I on her
field trip!

I suppose the view from the back makes the times we get to see their eyes all that more exciting. And we certainly talk face-to-face. When we're pleading with them to please stay put for a diaper change, pick up their jackets, put the lid on the glue and whatnot. We hear from others about the time they helped a young 2-year-old feel right at home at Sunday School, for instance (thank you, Elise!), or how they're the "star student" at preschool (yay, Kalina!) and all the rest. And it's not like we don't see those moments in our own homes, but they're often camouflaged by the fact that right before they hugged and agreed to marry each other, they were snatching toys, screaming and attempting to maim their sister. (You don't believe me, do you?). I love getting the whole package, but there are times I wouldn't mind the best-behavior, edited versions the rest of the world sees. But I supposed if they have to act like hyenas for someone, I'd want to have that particular honor.

At the Omaha Zoo
Aquarium!

In fact, if it weren't for impromptu family room ballet recitals, magic shows and various "tricks" they decide to perform, we might miss out on all the cool things our kids can do. And instead be trapped in our current endless loop of them jumping out from behind corners and shouting "boo" at us until we're about ready to scream ourselves. Even Naomi, although at least her little voice isn't quite loud enough to damage our hearing yet. As a side note, I've started to twitch.

Of course, a lot of the daily life is amazing and I sometimes get a sideways or motion-blurred view. The bigs run off on imaginary escapades (most often with one of them pretending to be a pet, and the other pretending to be the owner), stopping in every so often to tickle Naomi and tell her how cute she is, and then borrow all her toys. My eyes don't even know where to focus, it's such a whirlwind sometimes. With the big sisters fully engaged, Naomi and I have plenty of time together. She has taken to sitting in my lap for stories, a classic top-back view, but a very sweet one. What I can see is her little pointer finger, as eager as it is tiny, that seems to be directly wired to her brain. She is not only able to point and woof at every single dog, but also points out that the little girl in the story is like her (she points to herself), that has a bear that's like Hedgie (she points to her stuffed hedgehog). The baby will score well on standardized tests, I imagine. In a month or so, by the looks of things.

Most of the things I do see are the little things, but classic wisdom tells me (and I know it's true) that the little things are the big things. From my viewpoint,

In August, Naomi
appreciates the help!

The youngest twirls, matches animals in books to real-live stuffed versions, "talks," "cooks," gets her own snacks and generally charms us all, most of the time. Naomi still refuses to ever self-feed herself a veggie (or meat, for that matter), but will occasionally consent to eat them if they're well-mashed and, preferably, mixed with applesauce so she doesn't know they're there. She has not yet learned the rule of heights (they are not for walking off), but seems to know that the book sitting on the piano has something to do with which buttons to push. The baby definitely knows where her shoes, my shoes and the "vortex to places far cooler than indoors" is (a.k.a., the front door).

Elise's twirling dress.

The middle one likes to get all fancied up like a princess and is a serious, yet joyful ballet student. She's really into bouncy balls right now and continues in her affinity for ocean inhabitants. She's learning to pump herself on the swing (and could probably do it if her big sister weren't so sweet and helpful) and go down slides face-first. Indoors, the phrase "Elise, yogurt/applesauce/green beans/milk isn't finger food!" gets tossed around a lot, as her favorite way to eat is to take tiny pinches of her food and nibble it off her fingers. Elise delights in "mischief," but at least occasionally has the good sense to know when to ignore the urging of her big sis. Although that smile could get away with almost anything....

On vacation, Kalina petitioned for a
tri-sister sleepover. 

The oldest is proud of taking on bigger responsibilities. Putting away laundry and cleaning her room are now simple jobs (do you know how many years of nagging that took me? Or maybe she just needed to be 6...), and she'd tried her hand at vacuuming (still a bit heavy), vacuuming the stairs (she likes this one!), making PBJ for all of us (she enjoys it, but is occasionally a bit heavy on the jelly), and more. She recently astounded me by hanging in there for a 1 1/2-hour shift packing food for children overseas. Kalina has lots of good ideas, sometimes trumping Mommy for her practical innovations and even more good questions that occasionally have me stumped.


Any way you look at it, the view at our house is a good one.