Sounds Reasonable...

One of the wonderful blessings of motherhood is getting to discover the beautifully unique traits of each little personality developing within the diversity of the family. The ability of one child to see the world in clear, although ridged, black and white lines. And the ability of another to see the world in a vivid blur of color, and confusion. Parenting would be much easier if I would remember which little mind I am attempting to direct.

After noticing my sweet child smearing her tongue over the fourth item that day, and hoping to inspire self motivated correction, I chose to attempt the use of the Socratic method, rather than the typical repetition, in ascending tones, of "no, No, NO!"

Mommy: (with labored patience) "Isabelle, we don't lick tables, chairs, walls, windows, books, rugs, pews..." (forcing the cascading images to stop, and regaining composure) "Why don't you think of some things we can lick?"

Isabelle: (after a thoughtful glance into the air) "PAPER!"

Mommy: (a bit bewildered and slightly deflated) "Uhm..., no, Isabelle."

Isabelle: (with renewed excitement) "Um... Pretend Paper!"

Mommy: (slightly more deflated) "No, Izzie, something else."

Isabelle: (with eager triumph) "Well,... we can pretend to lick pretend paper! But really just put our little fingers on it!"

At this point I felt concession was necessary, and the approval of pretend licking of all pretend objects unavoidable, as well as, the return of the ascending "no, No, NO's!"

Truly a Gift

Recently my mind has been overrun with so many thoughts that it has taken me the better part of this month to sift through them and write a decent post. Perhaps it is from holding my newborn nephew only moments after his little heart began to beat outside of his mother, and watching his infant soul find expression in a tiny face whose eyes were seeing this world for the first time.

Or perhaps, it is the lingering reality of a choice; a choice which paints such a dramatic contrast between the life of this welcomed child and the life of so many welcomed into heaven before birth.

Possibly it is my heightened sensitivity to the negative comments and judgmental glares increasingly suffered by my children at the grocery store, not by their own actions, but rather, their mere existence, fore in the eyes of many, there is something increasingly wrong with a large family. But the concern is not in the comments and stares, rather, in knowing that someday my children will understand the meaning of the attention we are given. Someday they will wonder why they and their siblings are reduced to budgets, balances and carbon footprints.

I pray they will continue to see each other as they do now, as a gift in the truest sense of the word. Their lives were given to us not because of some merit of our own, nor because we are bound by some contract to do what is right by these new lives. It is truly ours, given from our Creator, to respect or abuse as we choose. We can neither determine this life's existence nor its departure, only the hope and circumstances for both. I hope they will see each other as a gift, a gift we have been given to open anew with each encounter, to discover with the removal of each layer of tissue paper that there is an even more intimate image of our Lord, buried deep within every gift of life.

What moms will do...

Upon waking a few weeks ago, I stood before the mirror as two children yelled from the living room, a dispute well beyond my barely risen brain's ability to decipher, and another child clung desperately to my legs wailing "milk-uh, milk-UUUHHH," only to realize the basket full of curling, teasing, taming, volumizing, straightening gadgets and goo's where useless with out more time than I could find in a week, and a world of hairstyling knowledge I could at best only hope to pay someone for. Not to mention the shower that would likely not come until that evening. Yes, I was forced to admit, "I am a pony-tail mom."

So I called my dear sister, who had come to quite a similar discovery, and in pure mommy "you did what?!" insanity, we grabbed the first set of appointments available, loaded all five kids in the van and drove off with no more concern than mothers headed to the park.



Armed with two strollers, a baby sling, a bag of grapes, a bag of cheerios, a bag of Kix, a package of gold fish and two different juice options, the children and I attacked the sidewalks of the shopping center while Julia was relieved of her fashionably flabby tail. As the last of her locks were chopped, and the cheerios had lost their charm, I was forced to raise the white flag as the ominous clouds overhead began to wield their power over the sidewalk strollers below.

But before I could lament my return to the land of rubber-banded hair, two gallant fathers raced from work to rescue us from being soggy salon invaders and I too was allowed the privilege of enjoying my curling brush again. (As well as the much needed break from the kids!)

Not the best pictures of the styles, but enough to document the lack of pony-tails!

Things you learn in a fourth pregnancy...

• Compression stockings come in a variety of styles and sizes, none of which include discreet, but all of which require a strong man's assistance to put on, and about fifteen minutes concentrated effort.


• Pill sorting boxes perform a very necessary function when taking more supplements/vitamins/enhancers than my grandmother.


• Varicose veins not only create a lovely design on one's legs, but they also bubble and bulge in ways that fascinate young children.


• A body that is not yet 30 can be remarkable similar to one that is 65...


• There were still crevices in my abdomen which had not previously experienced the wedging of elbows and feet.


• My body seems to actually generate urine ex nihilo so as not to miss it's regular 30 minute appointment with the bathroom, despite all attempts to dehydrate it.

Queso?

Recently I read an interesting article about various foods that not only benefit a particular organ in the body, but also resemble that organ in different ways. So, a tomato is not only good for your heart, but it also is red and has four chambers like the heart. A sliced carrot looks like the eye, with its pupil, iris and radiating lines, and enhances blood flow to the eyes and eye development.

This article brought great clarification to the terrible craving for avocados which I have suffered through during all the other pregnancies, because, as "they" say...

"Eggplant, Avocados and Pears target the health and function of the womb and cervix of the female - they look just like these organs. Today's research shows that when a woman eats 1 avocado a week, it balances hormones, sheds unwanted birth weight and prevents cervical cancers. And how profound is this? .... It takes exactly 9 months to grow an avocado from blossom to ripened fruit."

Unfortunately, it raises another question, namely, why does my mouth water with uncontrollable desire for chips and queso every time I am near a Taco Cabana?

And more importantly, what is behind the cravings of other people???

Bed Time

Jeremiah works two or three evenings a week, leaving the rest of us to enjoy each others' company during those final, exhausting hours of the day without daddy's calm, rational counterbalance...

A few nights ago, after finishing dinner, cleaning up, wrestling various body parts into PJs, warming/cooling/warming milk to the acceptable temperature for Daniel, the kids and I settled on the kitchen floor to drink our milk and read books before bed.

Peter selected his new favorite bed time story Planet Earth, now to gain full appreciation for this book, you will have to read his favorite paragraph...

"In a large storm cloud, as water droplets collide, water becomes electrically charged. Positive charges collect at the top of the cloud and negative charges at the bottom. The negative charge creates a positive charge on the ground surface, which builds until lightning sparks from the cloud to the ground and back again."

this was followed by, "oh wow, so now tell me all about lightning!"

Having been plagued by "mother's guilt" already that day, I decided to invest the one on one attention necessary to communicate to my child how tremendously important he is (and the attention necessary to explain such a topic to my four year old!).

Unfortunately, our youngest child's attention radar was immediately conscious of the shift in his paradigm and the necessity to set things straight. Realizing both my sides were flanked by either sibling, he had no choice but to scale the book separating him from my lap. This of course, infuriated his older brother, whose intellect was tediously being enlightened by our conversation, "you see, well... the atoms,... well atoms are..."

Now Daniel, being quite the strategist, realized the frontal approach, although successful in attaining the desired lap, was not going to stop such an intense discussion, but an over-tired, emotional sister who could care less about lightening was the perfect distraction...

"uh, no, so the water molecules,..." Placing one hand on the page of his sister's book, he grins and waits for the scream and shove. "um, no, not molecules, the..." The shove of course causes a slight tear in the page and increased panic from his sister. "well the drops of water,... they, um" Realizing this is more fun than he thought, Daniel persists, this time laughing, which only adds to his sisters anguish. "and, um, they rub,..." But feeling like our natural science discussion was finally getting somewhere, "oh, yeah, um I don't know how they rub..., well, they're like balls...." I ignore the squeals of "IT not FUNNNNNY Dang-uol!!!" Until the final push/pull/shove which succeeds in removing the entire page and sends his sister into hysterical sobs. "so, um, if they rub,... and then negative energy..." Now, not even the hope of understanding lightening can keep Peter's attention, and he perceives the mortal wound received by the book. "well, a charge really,... and then positive,... well, they're attracted..." He too joins in the hysterical sobbing, and Daniel not wanting to stand out, joins their tears, although without the intensity as he clearly does not understand why they were crying.

With that, the victorious baby had re-centered the universe and would go to bed cuddled safely in his mother's arms without any imposing discussions about nature!

Hobbies

hobby n. An activity or interest pursued outside one's regular occupation, primarily for pleasure.



I realized the other day (attempting to fill out a profile on here) that I no longer have any hobbies that are outside my regular occupation. How could this be! My days are full from waking to night and yet none of that constitutes a hobby, an interest, a pursuit! What has become of ME! Who am I outside the dishes, laundry and chores!


But perhaps what makes a hobby is not primarily the activity, but rather, it's being primarily for pleasure.


My hobbies are: Cloth Diapering, Homeschooling, Making Montessori Works, Cooking from Scratch, Calculating Every Penny (literally!), Reading five Books a day (short ones, mostly about talking animals and fairy tales) and now, Blogging!