Steppin' it up.

This week I finished this reversible apron:


And the view from the back:



Let's see it on a model.



And another, just for kicks.



I set a goal to complete at least one sewing project in 2009. This makes number three. Nevermind how painfully embarassing the quality is, I did it! Sure pays to set your sights low. I think I'll try it again next year.

Terrible threes.

Three is not a good age at our house. I have a theory about why that is, but I'll save it for another post. Regardless, Rachel turned three last week! She wet her pants about three times that day in celebration of the fact.

Rachel is bright, affectionate, independent, confident, compassionate, and beautiful. Pictures don't do her justice at all. She's got edible fair skin and the most unique eyes (in shape, not so much color). I love to stare and stare at her. At least until she yells at me to go do something else.

Her most unique feature is her desire to learn new skills. She loves to sit down with me and Lily to read, even though the pace at which Lily does so is painfully laborious. It's as if she's trying to glean a few skills herself. She helps around the house with laundry, tidying, cooking and was (by far) my earliest car seat buckler/door opener and closer. This desire to learn (and be independent) has eased the transition from 3 to 4 kids as I don't have to do everything for everyone. Just Eve (and Lily... who is a completely different character).

On odd years, we opt out of a traditional birthday party with friends and let the birthday kid choose a family activity. She decided on the zoo. Brrrr. We had a great time ducking into the warmth of indoor exhibits at every opportunity. It's not often that our whole family gets to go to the zoo together (usually just mom and the girls) so it was particularly fun.

Rachel, you are adorable. Happy third birthday!

Dinner duty.

My kids love to bake goodies. Help me with dinner? Not so much. Obviously, the spoils aren't quite so tasty when they don't contain butter and sugar. So a few weeks ago we established dinner duty at our house. Anna's got Monday, Lily on Tuesday, and Rachel helps on Wednesday. The other two get to set the table on the days they don't cook. Oh, I love it. Especially when Lily points out over and over how she's not going to touch what we're fixing.

Oh, and for the token blog post picture(s), I've included a few of how the kids used their time while mom and dad were holed up in our room coughing and feeling rather feverish.


Bubble baths in the sink.


And lollipops by the half dozen. Oh yeah.

No greater call.

I began my college career as an education major. I fought my way into the Intro. to Education course at Boston University and thought I had found my calling in life. A year and a half later, I found myself in Provo, Utah fighting BYU to accept me at all. I'd lost my scholarship, and could no longer afford the BU pricetag. Oops.

By the time BYU took me, I had spent a year and a half in Taiwan, decided I was still smart, and opted for a Political Science/American Studies major. Just for fun. I thought maybe I'd be in school for a while and I might as well study something enjoyable the first time around. Then I could get down to business with a law degree or something.

Law degree never materialized. I got married right around graduation, and set to work putting my husband through school. We got pregnant - due right around his graduation. And the rest is history. No regrets either.

Except that I should have stuck with teaching. I've spent all 8 1/2 years of my marriage teaching in some form - teaching nursery, Young Women, nursery again, Primary, and now Relief Society. I got ambitious and decided that I wanted to teach my kids' preschool and have for the past 4 years. I have a dream (that's still on the backburner) of homeschooling.

Tuesday I volunteered in Anna's first-grade class. I spent most of my time out in the hall with a few, shall we say, "smart in non-academic ways" children. We worked on simple addition. They struggled. I backed up. We worked on counting by twos. I got creative, employing different strategies to assist them. They still struggled, but it was fun to see a bit of progress.

Then I came back into the classroom and assisted the kids who were completing so-called "challenge packets". Anna was doing double digit addition. It was taking her a while, so I knelt down next to her desk and taught her how to "carry the one". Three equations later and she was a pro.

Teaching is fun. I suppose I take it for granted that my kids are just plain smart. They get it from their dad, naturally. I don't have to get fancy with acrobatics or anything to get them to grasp a new concept. I need to be more grateful for that. And overlook the fact that their brains also facilitate the fact that they enjoy doing exactly the opposite of what I've asked. Two sides to every coin, I suppose.

Yes, I can actually be fun sometimes.

I often feel as though I'm raining on my kids' parade. It's just that everything they want to do involves a huge mess, so I spend my days cleaning up after them (or forcing them to clean up their own messes, which, let's face it, takes 10 times as long) so it's difficult to generate any sort of desire to do anything they deem fun. I've already given up my clean house to the raising of four girls, but can I be blamed for wanting even the slightest sense of order around here?
A couple of weeks ago, I decided I wanted to throw not one, but two Halloween parties - one for the younger ones in the morning while Anna was at school, and another in the afternoon for Anna and her friends. For a non-Halloween lover, this was big.





We dressed up, played games, decorated cookies, ate them, and overall had a fabulous time. And then, while cleaning up, a bird ran into our back window and died. Here is its friend mourning the loss. Talk about raining on a parade.

Breaking a horse.

And now, the latest reason for implementing the use of a chart in our little household. A hint: it has something to do with food (and not eating it...ever...unless there's sugar in it... lots of it).

Yes, we're trying something new. Again. As Halloween approached, I dreaded the persistent requests for candy at all hours of the day. In the past I've succumbed to every request (as long as there was a please somewhere in the middle of it all) because I figured, hey, it's their candy. They worked for it (while I enjoyed the comfort of my warm home while sitting on my rear end, I might add). And eventually, it went away. But not before Lily had driven me absolutely batty as she fasted through every meal, knowing that there was candy lurking around every snack time.

Back to a few weeks ago. We were eating some sort of soup for dinner. Can't remember what kind, though I'm sure it was delicious, as everything I make most certainly is. (Maybe if I keep telling everyone that, they'll eventually believe it. Even Lily) She wouldn't touch it. I told her that she only had to try everything on her plate before leaving the table. She gagged a bit at the thought, then dug in her heels for a long night. I upped the ante, saying that she needed to eat one bite of everything on her plate before 7:45 or she would have to eat it all. I even set the timer. She complained. And complained. And then she complained a bit more. I played the trump card: "Lily, if you do not at least try everything, you will not enjoy a single bite of your Halloween candy."

Soon after, I warned her that she only had 1 minute left. She lifted a spoon, gagging some more, and started in on her mere spoonful of soup. Through her gags and cries, she missed the mark, finishing only after the timer marked her destiny as the trick-or-treater whose spoils would wait in the cupboard above the fridge until she can learn to try foods that are not accompanied by sugar.

I believe in repentance. She came home from trick-or-treating, her face bearing the stains of one sneaking candy the entire way, and I politely requested that she hand over her bag. She knew I was serious. I told her that she could earn her candy back by learning to eat, no just try healthy food (heck, I'm not sure if I believe in something that miraculous).

We made a chart. We call it Lily's Healthy Eating Chart. It includes the following daily tasks:
1. I, Lily, will eat at least one fruit or vegetable at every single meal.
2. I, Lily, will try everything on my plate for dinner.
Completion of these tasks for the month of November earns back her candy on December 1st.

Am I asking too much? Does it really matter that she doesn't eat anything good for her? Ever? It does to me, because my otherwise sweet, loving child is a basket case after inhaling candy at the expense of a satisfying dinner. I waffle between two philosophies - don't make food a control issue and, on the other side, candy is given only after healthier food is ingested.

I was destined to have picky children. I come from a long line of sugar-lovers. And Tim was notably the pickiest of his lot. I never dreamed just how picky a child the two of us could create when paired together. If Lily had been formed in a petri dish, I doubt that we could have created a genetic combination more finicky than the Lord saw fit to bestow upon us through dumb luck. Now, if only I had gotten all the good parenting genes from my side...

Back to life.

It might have been swine flu. I've never had any flu (besides the barfy kind that lasts only 24 hours, that is), so I wouldn't really know. All I know is, after almost a week of basically neglecting everything that makes me happy (ie: to-do lists and doing fun things with my kids), I'm ready for life to begin again. So here's to five days of playing Scramble on Tim's iPod, allowing the kids to run my household with their candy-stealing, TV-inhaling, mess-making ways, and long naps. Lots and lots of naps. It's been real. But not real fun.

Surprise!

Call me boring, but I'm not much for spontaneity. It's in my blood, I suppose. I like plans. I like knowing what's going on days (weeks!) in advance so that I can prepare.

On the other hand, sometimes a last minute visit from family can be refreshing. We get the joy of company without feeling the obligation to scrub the house from top to bottom (your sheets were clean, though, I promise!), make an elaborate menu, or fill our days with endless activity. With the pressure off, I think it turned out pretty well.