Going into hiding.

I have a three-year-old. Perhaps you've heard of the "terrible twos". Personally, I think the age of three is also worthy of such a title. Let's take it up a notch and say that all parents should send their kids to boarding school from the moment they turn two until they reach their fourth birthday. Cause I don't want to have any part of raising them during these turbulent years.
Lily has brought new meaning to the word "terrible". Anna was extremely difficult at that age, but somehow more manageable for me. I knew what motivated her and I could nip the bad behavior in the bud. Sort of.

Her younger sister is a complete mystery. She's completely irrational, ready to fly off the handle at any given moment, and loud beyond your wildest imagination. What do you do with a child like that? What motivates them? Our official protocol is to leave the room (so as to minimize eardrum damage) and ignore her completely.

Today, she had a moment while we were waiting for Anna during her dance class. I was at a loss for what to do. I couldn't leave. She gets so worked up that she's unable to respond to discipline. I refuse to pacify her with bribes, knowing the long-term effects of such a tactic. If I had been at the grocery store, I would have left my cart and taken her home swiftly. If we'd been at church, I could have carried her out of the room and used the foyer as my time-out grounds. Most situations that I am in enable me to remove her from the situation until she can get a grip. Which takes an eternity for this child.

So I just sat there, ignoring her, feeling like a complete loser because I have zero control over my child. All the while, she's screaming, "Mommy, you're not listening! Mommy, I'm sick! Mommy, I'm too tired! Mommy I need a hug! No! Mommy, don't touch me! Mommy, stop watching Anna! Mommy, don't hold Rachel! Mommy, talk to me! Mommy, don't talk to me!" If you know Lily well, you know I'm not exaggerating one bit.

Fortunately for me, I carpool with two other ladies whose kids are in the same dance class, so I never again have to see the people who sat watching our display in complete disbelief. Not that it matters. But I feel relieved. At least until the next time it happens. Perhaps by then I may have tuned into how to pacify her. If not, I can just go into hiding until she turns four. Hmmmm, not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.

Oh, the guilt of motherhood.

My blog has not served as a venting vehicle yet. I have a great soundboard here at home who puts up with me when I have what I like to call Sariah Syndrome (for all you BOM readers out there). But, since my blog is functioning much as a journal would, I feel it appropriate to express a few feelings and ideas that have entered my mind recently. So there's my disclaimer.
Balancing priorities is not something that I struggle with on a regular basis. I have no problem saying no to non-essentials and I reserve LOTS of time in my schedule so that when things "pop" up, as they often do, I don't feel too overwhelmed. I also spend ample quality time with each of my children daily (okay, most days) to ensure that their emotional bank accounts are filled enough to withstand a bit of neglect should the need arise.
Preparing our house for sale was not a project for which I could even have anticipated the sacrifice. I'm depressed. I can't count the number of times I have had to tell my kids this week, "I really want to play (fill-in-the-blank) with you, but I have to (again, fill-in-the-blank)." The first few days of cleaning, organizing and repairing gave me plenty of "teaching my kids to work" opportunities, but Anna has stuffed her piggy bank silly with quarters and has tired of the monotony of deep-cleaning. Who can blame her? I've tired of it. And I LOVE clean!
I find a bit of consolation in the understanding that this won't last forever and that someday I will again be able to put my children first. But it has been a revelation to me that I derive a great deal of joy and personal satisfaction from the amount of time I spend with my sweet kids. It is truly the investment with the highest return.
I'm thinking, in retrospect, of course, that I should have hired out my housekeeping duties and partied with the kids for the past 6 weeks. At least I'd be in better spirits. Ah, if money grew on trees...

Love that laundry chute.

My sweet baby(?) picked up (no pun intended) this trick oh, about 2 weeks ago. It's a pretty nifty habit when I want to keep the house clean. Downside: when I've laid Lily's clothes for the day out and she delays getting dressed...which, she always does. Guess where they end up? Watch and find out.

My weight loss plan.

Not unlike many people I know, I have made a goal to drop a few pounds over the first few months of 2008. I'm down about 5 pounds. Hear. hear. Wanna know my secret? Here it is:
1. Quit nursing.
2. Quit eating like I'm still nursing.
Works like a charm.

Brought tears to my eyes.

I grew up in the middle of boys. We are all very (sometimes uncomfortably?) close in age and were great playmates and friends over the years. Since having three girls of my own, though, my mind has been opened to the joy that I might have missed out on by being raised amid truck-driving (and throwing), cops and robbers playing, sword-fighting boys. Don't get me wrong, it was loads of fun, I'm just trying to illustrate a point here.

Tonight while we were consuming our last-minute Family Home Evening treat (brownies, what else?), Anna turned to Lily and said, "Lily, I'm going to miss you when you are a mom." Lily was pretty much oblivious, but my eyes welled up immediately. I was moved that my girls have developed such a tender friendship. Do they fight? Sure. Are they competitive? Of course. (Well, at least one of them is.) Could they live without each other? Probably not.

There are times when I have wondered if I was completely insane to space my children less than two years apart. Tonight I realized that it has been well worth the work. They have become the best of friends. Now, if we can only get them to survive the teenage years...

They might as well be fasting.

About a month ago during sacrament meeting at church I made a critical discovery. It all started immediately following the sacrament, when the kids all scrambled for the "church bag" for the snacks that they rightfully earn by enduring 25-30 minutes of sitting quietly on a bench listening to songs that they cannot sing yet(because they can't read the hymnbook), hearing announcements that have no bearing on them, and participating in a sacrament service that, try though we have, they do not fully understand the significance of. I've always been a bit disconcerted by the ready-set-go type of behavior they exhibit as soon as the deacons return to their seats but I guess I never really considered the possibility that my kids could go without snacks for the 3 full hours that we attend church each Sunday.
This particular Sabbath Day, I watched as they stuffed their faces full of snacks for which they weren't even hungry, spilling crumbs everywhere and even tugging the little Ziploc bags from each other's hands, complaining that so and so had eaten more than her share. Loudly, I might add. It was enough of a scene that it provided the catalyst for our new sacrament meeting policy. Which is, simply put, no snacks during sacrament meeting. Rachel maintains her own private stash in the diaper bag, which dad feeds to her during the last two hours of church. Lily is still in nursery, so her snack is only put off for an hour or so, and Anna is almost 5. She can handle going without.
The kids are still complaining. But, to my relief, they no longer assume unhealthy eating habits by feeding themselves out of boredom and they fill their time with more worthwhile pursuits while at church (like playing I Spy, or coloring Disney Princess pictures). We still have a bit of work to do, I guess...

Free stuff.

I've discovered the key to popularity. The answer: listing something for free on craigslist. Get this: I listed three items on the popular free classifieds website yesterday at about 1:45p.m. Fast forward to 4:30. I check my email to find 35 new messages in my junk mail box. Yowsers! I thought I was a sucker for free stuff but this is really ridiculous!
The ads? A very used Barbie Powerwheels jeep without a functioning battery, a very used (noticing a theme here?) Graco double stroller, and a not so very used sofa/loveseat. Within 24 hours, the two free items were taken off my happy hands and cash is in the hand for the set of couches. I suppose it's true what they say, One man's trash is another man's treasure... suckers!

The Loves of my Life.

This isn't meant to be an all-inclusive list. My friend tagged me to list 14 things I love, in honor of Valentine's Day on the 14th, so I thought I would mention a few quirky ones.

1. My warm, fuzzy robe and a cup of hot cocoa. I only discovered the joy of my robe this winter because it has been SO stinkin' cold! Now I wonder how I ever lived without it. Who knows? I might even wear in August, just for kicks.

2. Cilantro. I know, mom, you're cringing, but I can't get over the fact that it goes well in pretty much any ethnic dish! If you like it, that is.

3. Mirrors. Must be the vanity in me, but when there's a mirror around (or even a reflective glass window) I just can't help myself! Even on my mission I might have sneaked a few peeks of my reflection in the store windows as I rode my bike through the streets of Taiwan. But only a few.

4. Back scratches. Thankfully, Tim is very generous in providing this absolute necessity in my life.

5. Baby's breath. No, not the flower, the real thing. I love how sweet their breath is until they reach the age of, oh, about 2 years.

6. A tidy house. I know, no surprises there.

7. Politics. It just gets my blood flowing, you know? You're all just lucky I don't broadcast my opinions every time I sit down to post something.

8. Flowers. I'm not really particular about which kind, although I seem to plant tulips, roses, and lilies with a vengeance. Whether I'm planting, pruning, cutting, or arranging them in a vase on my kitchen table, I thrive on the color and fragrance they infuse in my otherwise undecorated home.

9. Sleep. Alas, a rare commodity these days...

10. Eating out. I consider myself a pretty adventurous cook, but that doesn't stop me from appreciating the joy of not having to whip up something delicious for my entire family. I also love the atmosphere, the service, and the conversation over a table of delectable food.

11. Hearing my kids laugh. It's absolutely contagious.

12. A really inspiring, uplifting performance. You know, the kind that you can't help but give a standing ovation for because you've been wanting to jump out of your seat since the first act.

13. Reading an old journal or watching home videos. It just reminds me how rich my life is.

14. Melting snow... especially right about now.

Year of the Rat.

Tomorrow is Chinese New Year. I have memories of watching fireworks on my dad's company yacht in Hong Kong harbor as a kid. As a missionary, we were invited to huge meals twice a day for almost two weeks straight in celebration of the festivities. Today there were no fireworks. No feasts. In fact, the celebration becomes less and less exciting each year as my energy wanes. I did, however make my favorite Oriental Chinese Chicken Salad (apparently this recipe predated political correctness) and Corn with Crabmeat Soup.

When I was in third grade, our class went to a camp for several days out in the boonies of Hong Kong's New Territories, which is where my love affair with this dish began. The food was very, shall we say, traditional... The cooks made a very weak attempt at accomodating international students by providing cold cereal each morning in the cafeteria. Cold cereal with nasty milk, that is. You know, the kind of milk that doesn't require refrigeration. Ew. Since I could neither satisfy my hunger nor my daily nutritional requirements with breakfast, as I was likely used to doing, I was famished by dinnertime.

One night, I tried Corn with Crabmeat Soup. I ended up going back for more. Nine times. I had high hopes that my children would pack it in the way I had back in the 80's. I guess I'll have to try again in a few years. Happy Chinese New Year!

Just for kicks, check out your lunar forecast.

What? Is it February already?

If you happen to have any control over when your children are born, I would recommend delivering them at the end of the month (or at least mid-month). Lily's birthday, February 1st completely sneaks up on us every single year.
In honor of her third birthday, I will share a few of the moments surrounding her birth.
1. I happened to be babysitting one of my dear friend's children the night I went to the hospital. I also told my husband that it was "fine" for him to go pay some visits to some of the kids in the class he taught at Church that year. The boy I was babysitting kept asking me what was wrong every time I bent over the counter, in obvious pain. I finally snapped at him and he quit inquiring about the reason behind my deep breathing. Thankfully, he doesn't remember.
2. We left for the hospital and I only had one contraction on the fifteen minute ride to downtown Boise (is it just me, or are contractions in the car pretty much akin to death?) On the 5 minute walk to the hospital from our parked car, I had three contractions.
3. I had burned my arm cooking dinner that night. I think it might be why the labor and delivery nurse asked me(after Tim left the room to get some ice chips) if I was abused. Tim thinks they should have asked him the same question.
4. I almost gave birth to Lily in the toilet. I stood up, after using the restroom, and started having a contraction, only to find myself running for the hospital bed, screaming, "she's coming!" All hell broke loose after that and my beautiful second child was born 2 pushes later.
Lily has been my best childbirth experience thus far. I will refrain from saying that she is my easiest child because, in fact, she isn't. I love her.

Put me in the zoo.

Anna has always been, shall we say, advanced for her age. At least, in terms of speech. At 20 months old, she could sing "Santa Claus is coming to Town" pretty much word for word. I remember taking a poll when she turned one that asked: "How many words does your one-year-old utter?" The responses: None. 1-5 words. 6-10 words. 10-20 words. 20 or more words. I recall thinking, "You're capping the poll at 20 words? My kid is stinkin' off the charts at 50+!" (Can you see me beaming with pride, like her level of aptitude is all my doing or something).

My little genius has kind of leveled off over the past few years. Not that she isn't smart anymore, she still demonstrates a high level of scholastic potential. But I thought the girl would be much more interested in reading than she is. In fact, I've had her enrolled in a mother's co-op preschool for the past two years that focuses mostly on teaching values, because I figured that the academics would come more naturally for her. And they have, for the most part. Still, I honestly believed that if she kept at the trajectory that she had set herself on within her first 2 years, she would be reading by the tender age of three.

Not so. But then again, I guess it depends on how you define "reading". After all, she has been reading a verse in the scriptures every night while our family studies them together. And, during "quiet time", when we are all in my room reading our respective books, she'll often peer over my shoulder and sound out a string of 3-4 letter words just to show off a bit. Maybe my idea of a 4-year old child reading bedtime stories to her younger siblings was a bit optimistic?

Anyway, today before quiet time, she insisted on reading the above book all by herself. And she did! From cover to cover! Pretty sure my bedtime story-reading days are still far from over, though.

Please Mr. Groundhog.

I calculated the amount of time I spent just this last week shoveling snow. 7 hours. 7 hours! Do you know what a mother of three could do with 7 extra hours?

Anna and I had a discussion this morning about Groundhog Day (not the movie, although it is one of my faves) and decided that it is time for winter to just go away! As Anna puts it, "I'm ready to pick some flowers." I wholeheartedly agree, especially since I planted over 200 hundred of them last fall.

On the other hand, we spent a morning last week sledding down a hill just a one minute walk away from our house. Here's a pic. You can catch the video on Malauna's blog.