Lily earned a free ticket to the local water park through a school reading program earlier this year. We redeemed it this past week. That, combined with another free ticket we scored off a generous neighbor and a discount for going at a certain time and day of the week made our first trip there in four years a reasonably affordable occasion. Due to a park policy that allows no outside food or drink (except water), we decided to purchase dinner on the cheap and sip our 90 degree (did I mention it was blazing hot that day?) water so we could maximize the five hours we spent there without any starving kid meltdowns. I bought two slices of pizza. We split them in half, one for each child. The kids asked why Dad and I weren't eating. I responded that the food was so expensive that we would rather wait until we got home. They seemed to appreciate their slice all the more and refrained from asking for a frozen lemonade or ice cream cone to boot.
We had a blast at the water park - the kids expressed their gratitude profusely and failed to complain even once that the lines were as long as the Great Wall of China. They were simply glad to be there. It taught me a great lesson. When kids are accustomed to ordinary fun, and not indulged in various whims and fancies, they tend to appreciate the extraordinary as just that. Extraordinary. It's not as if we can't afford to indulge our kids in a visit to the water park, paying full price and purchasing an entire meal for everyone. But why should we?
It's not always easy for us to teach our kids that even if you can afford something, it doesn't mean you have to buy it. Sometimes I get passed off as a mean mom (and it hurts my feelings, but not really) - but every once in a while, when my children gratefully eat their half slice of pizza and gush all the way home about how much fun they had at the water park, I'm reminded that it's the right thing to do after all. And that makes me happy. The End.
P.S. I personally think that rural farm life would be an ideal environment for eliminating the gimme's in children. But farm animals stink. That, and I married an electrical engineer. I guess depriving my children of an entire slice of pizza at the water park is a close second.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Oh waiter? Another Eve, please.
If I could genetically engineer another one just like her - I would have a fifth child in a heartbeat. Minus the gargantuan nursing issues she experienced. And the postpartum depression. Yeah, I could do without those. Order up.
Dearest dad.
Hope you liked breakfast in bed, the cookies the Relief Society (aka, me and a couple other ladies) provided, the four hour nap (nah, it was at least five... at least) while I slaved over the gourmet dinner you gobbled up in like two seconds, the cards, the kisses, the red carpet, and the presents. Sorry Eve's missing from the picture - she's two, remember? Who, me? I'm exhausted. Happy Father's Day. Oh yeah - and I love you. Good night.
Post edit: No, Father's Day is not all about me. Tim is a wonderful, selfless father. We all adore him. This year it was particularly exhausting making sure he knew that.
Full over full. With a trundle.
Tim just assembled a full over full bunkbed in one of the bedrooms. With a trundle. Throw a pack and play into the corner and it takes the idea of a guest bedroom to a whole new level. Bring the whole fam, guys.
The girls got a kick out of the makeshift jail cell one of the beds served as while we constructed the other. Future jailbird? I hope not.
The girls got a kick out of the makeshift jail cell one of the beds served as while we constructed the other. Future jailbird? I hope not.
June-bearing.
Yeah. It's strawberry season. This is just Saturday's harvest. Every day for two weeks it'll look about the same. Yum.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
I can do hard things.
We've got a procrastinator in the house. I have an opinion on procrastination: most people who procrastinate are either too busy to complete everything on their plates on time, or they simply don't like doing anything they don't enjoy and therefore, put those things off until they must do them (if ever). And let's face it, we've all got a little of that in us.
My little procrastinator falls into the latter category. She is smart. So smart. As in, we sat down yesterday and figured out the area (in inches) of four rooms in our house. After demonstrating 3-digit multiplication to her only twice, she completed the next two problems by herself. She's eight. When I acted impressed that she had caught on so quickly, she simply said, "Mom, it is so EASY!"
Which brings me to my point. I worry about my "gifted" child (of which I have four, but we're focusing on the oldest right now) because she gets frustrated when things aren't easy for her. She fears failure so much that she'd just rather throw in the towel than push through and complete a difficult task. Consequently, she lacks confidence because she's rarely accomplished anything that required major exertion (mostly mental) on her part. Ah, it must be tough being a genius.
For instance, piano. She's actually rather good at it. But no child prodigy. She's supposed to practice every day. It's tedious. I don't allow her to listen to a song before she tries to attack it - I'm trying to train her to sight-read instead of relying on her ear as I did for so many years. Her ear is already good, we're trying to do what's hard, remember?
Yesterday, after 10 straight days of not practicing (and losing many, many privileges) I asked why she resists so much. Her reply: "I don't like it." I then launched into the "so should we only do the things we like?" lecture and she countered that I'm trying to force her to do something uncomfortable, and I came back that I'm trying to help her develop character, I couldn't care less if she becomes a piano virtuouso....blah, blah, blah. Back and forth, back and forth. Two hours of a power struggle while I folded laundry and picked strawberries until finally she relented, plopped her skinny rear end on the piano bench and plucked out a couple of unfamiliar tunes.
I'm not sure what to do about this daughter. I want her to be happy. I know that being happy isn't just doing what we like - in fact, in many cases it is the opposite - it is a job well-done, it is growth and learning, it is accomplishing a seemingly insurmountable goal, it is knowing that you are of worth when you don't get things right the first time. This is what I desire for her. Admittedly, being the oldest child (and guinea pig) she gets the short end of the stick because we are harder on her than the others. Can I claim ignorance for my parenting blunders? Perhaps insanity? Anyway, I'm not sure how hard to push when it comes to helping my kids develop character. Maybe you experienced parents out there can clue me in a bit.
Oh, and remind me to tell you about the time I ran through a barbed-wire fence after spinning out on the freeway at 65 mph. With five kids in the car. Without getting a scratch. And driving through an open field and home with nary a tow truck. Miracles have not ceased.
My little procrastinator falls into the latter category. She is smart. So smart. As in, we sat down yesterday and figured out the area (in inches) of four rooms in our house. After demonstrating 3-digit multiplication to her only twice, she completed the next two problems by herself. She's eight. When I acted impressed that she had caught on so quickly, she simply said, "Mom, it is so EASY!"
Which brings me to my point. I worry about my "gifted" child (of which I have four, but we're focusing on the oldest right now) because she gets frustrated when things aren't easy for her. She fears failure so much that she'd just rather throw in the towel than push through and complete a difficult task. Consequently, she lacks confidence because she's rarely accomplished anything that required major exertion (mostly mental) on her part. Ah, it must be tough being a genius.
For instance, piano. She's actually rather good at it. But no child prodigy. She's supposed to practice every day. It's tedious. I don't allow her to listen to a song before she tries to attack it - I'm trying to train her to sight-read instead of relying on her ear as I did for so many years. Her ear is already good, we're trying to do what's hard, remember?
Yesterday, after 10 straight days of not practicing (and losing many, many privileges) I asked why she resists so much. Her reply: "I don't like it." I then launched into the "so should we only do the things we like?" lecture and she countered that I'm trying to force her to do something uncomfortable, and I came back that I'm trying to help her develop character, I couldn't care less if she becomes a piano virtuouso....blah, blah, blah. Back and forth, back and forth. Two hours of a power struggle while I folded laundry and picked strawberries until finally she relented, plopped her skinny rear end on the piano bench and plucked out a couple of unfamiliar tunes.
I'm not sure what to do about this daughter. I want her to be happy. I know that being happy isn't just doing what we like - in fact, in many cases it is the opposite - it is a job well-done, it is growth and learning, it is accomplishing a seemingly insurmountable goal, it is knowing that you are of worth when you don't get things right the first time. This is what I desire for her. Admittedly, being the oldest child (and guinea pig) she gets the short end of the stick because we are harder on her than the others. Can I claim ignorance for my parenting blunders? Perhaps insanity? Anyway, I'm not sure how hard to push when it comes to helping my kids develop character. Maybe you experienced parents out there can clue me in a bit.
Oh, and remind me to tell you about the time I ran through a barbed-wire fence after spinning out on the freeway at 65 mph. With five kids in the car. Without getting a scratch. And driving through an open field and home with nary a tow truck. Miracles have not ceased.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Summer!
Notice the explanation point. I love summer. The sun, the heat, the garden, the pool, the hours and hours of playtime. There's just so much to love. And mostly, I LOVE having my kids home. The kids begged for a repeat of last summer's month of homeschooling so this summer we're doing it all summer long (though only on a three day per week schedule). We're studying the Oregon Trail (in preparation for our drive to the coast this summer), four famous artists, planes, weather, volcanoes, and of course, reading, writing and 'rithmetic. Lily loves learning so much she's already eaten into 31 pages of the 1st grade math book I bought for her.
Our first art project of the season was decorating individual library/Bookmobile bags. I'm tired of lugging around 50 pounds of dead weight every time we go.
Here are the girls concentrating ultra-hard on their artwork.
I also plan on teaching them a bit of hand sewing from this book my friend mentioned on her blog. We've already learned to thread a needle, tie a knot, do a running stitch and whipstitch, and sew on a button.
Add to that the multiple trips to the park and pool, the daily deal coupons to fun places around town I have yet to use, and the hours my kids spend exploring in nature (aka: the weeds behind our property) and it makes for one terrific summer. Or, at least, that's what I'm hoping for.
And now, to end this post rather randomly, may I quote Rachel's reaction to her first sip of grape soda on Friday night:
"Yum. This tastes like medicine!"
Our first art project of the season was decorating individual library/Bookmobile bags. I'm tired of lugging around 50 pounds of dead weight every time we go.
Here are the girls concentrating ultra-hard on their artwork.
I also plan on teaching them a bit of hand sewing from this book my friend mentioned on her blog. We've already learned to thread a needle, tie a knot, do a running stitch and whipstitch, and sew on a button.
Add to that the multiple trips to the park and pool, the daily deal coupons to fun places around town I have yet to use, and the hours my kids spend exploring in nature (aka: the weeds behind our property) and it makes for one terrific summer. Or, at least, that's what I'm hoping for.
And now, to end this post rather randomly, may I quote Rachel's reaction to her first sip of grape soda on Friday night:
"Yum. This tastes like medicine!"
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Family.
This afternoon we stopped at the fruit stand on the way home from Anna's school. After we all spilled out of the minivan, the sales clerk quickly observed: "So, you've only got four girls?" Yep. Only four.
They helped me pick out a basketful of fruit and veggies and, in the course of their running around, Rachel tripped and skinned her knee pretty badly on the pavement, sending her into a fit of outrageous screams (what else would you expect?). I left my produce on the counter for a moment to resolve the situation and was aided by Anna, who pulled out the first aid kit and grabbed a couple of band-aids for me to apply.
Meanwhile, Lily ushered Eve into her seat and buckled her in without being asked. After making sure everyone was situated I paid for my food and returned to the car, grateful for the way in which my girls helped smooth over a potentially chaotic situation, the seamless manner in which they acted selflessly instead of complaining about how loud Rachel was without lifting a finger to help. (And, believe me, we've had moments where that may have been the case.) On the drive home, I thought of the beauty of the family unit and the potential we have for becoming Christlike therein. I was reminded of the following quote I read in a recent Ensign article:
The family by its very nature is an institution based upon righteous self-denial and sacrifice. It is not an individualistic or self-centered organization, but a highly cooperative and other-centered institution. Successful families require that men and women make substantial and long-term sacrifices of their time, money, and personal fulfillment in order to dedicate their efforts to rearing the next generation. Selfishness in any form or degree weakens the bonds that hold families together. The rise of selfishness in our society is the fundamental underlying trend that undermines families and makes successful marriages so difficult. Many today find it irrational to devote so much time and energy to the welfare of the next generation, but if this commitment is not deeply rooted in society, civilization will decline and perish, while children grow up in a moral wasteland, confused, unguided, and unloved.
Moreover, the sacrifices that fathers and mothers make for their children ultimately will result in the greatest possible happiness for those making the sacrifices. In all of human experience, there are no joys more tender, no love more sweet, no fulfillment higher than that found in the family. Those who honor the calling of righteous parenthood will find their souls refined, their hearts purified, and their minds enlightened by the most important lessons of life. They will rise to far greater heights of happiness than those who engage in the narrow and ultimately unsatisfying pursuit of self.
This is so true. I find immense joy in my family - and it is proportional to the amount of sacrifice I make. How reassuring it is to find that my children are directly impacted by the love that Tim and I give them, and that they are learning to impart of their love to one another. A bit of heaven, if you ask me.
They helped me pick out a basketful of fruit and veggies and, in the course of their running around, Rachel tripped and skinned her knee pretty badly on the pavement, sending her into a fit of outrageous screams (what else would you expect?). I left my produce on the counter for a moment to resolve the situation and was aided by Anna, who pulled out the first aid kit and grabbed a couple of band-aids for me to apply.
Meanwhile, Lily ushered Eve into her seat and buckled her in without being asked. After making sure everyone was situated I paid for my food and returned to the car, grateful for the way in which my girls helped smooth over a potentially chaotic situation, the seamless manner in which they acted selflessly instead of complaining about how loud Rachel was without lifting a finger to help. (And, believe me, we've had moments where that may have been the case.) On the drive home, I thought of the beauty of the family unit and the potential we have for becoming Christlike therein. I was reminded of the following quote I read in a recent Ensign article:
The family by its very nature is an institution based upon righteous self-denial and sacrifice. It is not an individualistic or self-centered organization, but a highly cooperative and other-centered institution. Successful families require that men and women make substantial and long-term sacrifices of their time, money, and personal fulfillment in order to dedicate their efforts to rearing the next generation. Selfishness in any form or degree weakens the bonds that hold families together. The rise of selfishness in our society is the fundamental underlying trend that undermines families and makes successful marriages so difficult. Many today find it irrational to devote so much time and energy to the welfare of the next generation, but if this commitment is not deeply rooted in society, civilization will decline and perish, while children grow up in a moral wasteland, confused, unguided, and unloved.
Moreover, the sacrifices that fathers and mothers make for their children ultimately will result in the greatest possible happiness for those making the sacrifices. In all of human experience, there are no joys more tender, no love more sweet, no fulfillment higher than that found in the family. Those who honor the calling of righteous parenthood will find their souls refined, their hearts purified, and their minds enlightened by the most important lessons of life. They will rise to far greater heights of happiness than those who engage in the narrow and ultimately unsatisfying pursuit of self.
This is so true. I find immense joy in my family - and it is proportional to the amount of sacrifice I make. How reassuring it is to find that my children are directly impacted by the love that Tim and I give them, and that they are learning to impart of their love to one another. A bit of heaven, if you ask me.
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