Summer Bucket List

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This summer, Papa is going to be home for two months. He works for the school district (for those who didn't know) and he got a new job that doesn't require him to work through the summer. They did, recently, inform us that his team may have to work on some projects in the summer months. Still, overall, he should be off in just a week or two.

We have a pretty ridiculous list of things we want to do this summer. Here it is:

1. Go to the zoo... a lot. We're members there, and with two adults home all the time, there's no excuse.

2. Go to a "members only" cocktail party at the zoo. Grown ups only.

3. Have my mom and sister visit for a week, and finally meet our niece who was born about a month before the Cub.

4. Visit Papa's family in Winter Park for a week, and finally meet our other niece who was born a few days after the Cub.

5. Take the kids to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science again. We're members there, too.

6. Have the girls take swimming lessons.

7. Take everyone swimming several times.

8. Make it to Minnesota to visit more of Papa's family.

9. Go camping.

10. Go to the lake... hopefully a bunch.

11. Get some professional family photos, once the Cub can sit up on his own.

12. Finally do that negative space atlas painting on the dining room wall that I've been planning for months.

13. Finish building the loft for the kids' playroom, once the baby robins move out. (more about that this weekend.)

14. Teach the kids more about money, time and the calendar.

15. Relax... somewhere in there.

Imperfect Homeschool

Here's a dirty (literally) little secret: My house isn't clean... almost ever. You've seen pictures of our house/homeschool and they usually make things look at least in relative order, but where do you think I do my baking? What do you imagine happens when I have to drag out and sort all of the laundry? And you know we have two large dogs. Imagine all of the fur.

By the way, just to keep the fur balls under control, now that Juno is shedding her winter coat, I have to vacuum the entire house twice a week at least. Honestly... that rarely happens. Hair accumulates and I actually get around to wrangling it about once a week.

I'd like to convince you that I'm not trying to impress anyone, but that wouldn't exactly be true. I snap into obsessive, "mom is a grumpy monster" cleaning mode when I know someone is coming to visit. I even have a less monstrous version that I visit right before the babysitter gets here. In fact, I find this blog topic particularly entertaining because, just this morning, I was thinking if I had to choose between a housekeeper and a babysitter, I'd probably choose the housekeeper. Except, and this is very important, I don't really want a housekeeper because I'd always feel like she (or he, to avoid any assumptions) was basically going through all of my stuff with my permission.

I think, for me, there's more guilt associated with not being able to clean up after myself (and, admittedly, several other people and two dogs), than with needing some time away from the kids. And, as a result, I don't want to ask someone else to do it for me, and I don't want anyone to see my mess.

When I sort laundry, I drag everyone's collections of dirty things into the front room as well as all of the baskets, then I basically toss things into piles on the floor until it makes sense. I guess that's what most people call load sorting. I try to stuff all of the piles into respective baskets, but that doesn't always happen. I don't have enough baskets for all of the piles without also using hampers. And hampers have to make it back to the bedrooms.

I don't know if this is a normal thing for homes full of children, but there's a whole segment of my kitchen counter that is nearly covered with things I'm keeping away from them, things I need to fix, or projects we haven't complete yet. There are coloring books and crayons up there as well as a pair of shorts I need to take in at the waist, a package of wipes, a bottle of lotion, a can of fabreeze, and my sun glasses and keys. If I tried to list the entire contents of the counter, you'd stop reading halfway through, but I feel like that cross section gives you a fair idea of what ends up there. It's not exactly "just a mess", because it has its function. It is an eye sore, though.

And speaking of "ending up" somewhere. the back corner of the back room is a graveyard. The chairs from the old dining set are stacked up next to the fridge that came with the house. The chairs are in serious disrepair (although they don't look it) and the fridge is far too small for our family needs. We replaced the whole dining set and the refrigerator long ago. We're never going to use the old ones again... so why are they still there? Fair question.

On top of the fridge is a box of Christmas decorations. Yes, the X-mas decor box is still not in the attic, and it's nearly June.

There's a random array of other, smaller items about that corner, including extra foam tiles I'm not using, a crib-sized comforter I've had since the twins were babies (no, it hasn't been in the same place, or even in disuse that whole time), an extension chord I use outside sometimes and a plastic thing for hanging a garden hose that, presumably, we will actually hang sometime before garden-hose-using season is over.

My kids have a playroom. Their mess stays mostly in there, unless you count the scattering of clothes on their bedroom floor when outfit indecision hits. When we moved in here, I thought that would mean that the rest of the house would stay basically clean. It turns out adults make different messes, but just as many of them... if not more.

It Gets Easier... Sort Of

I read someone else's blog, yesterday, about what happens when we tell new mothers "it gets easier." Their angle suggested that you should never say that because it's not true. Or rather, not that it's untrue but that it's easily misinterpreted as meaning "things will get back to the way they were". By their theory, things don't get "easier" but you simply get better at parenting and things change.

I don't disagree with this. I do think that the phrase "it gets easier" is easily misinterpreted. I definitely imagined something very different than what turned out to be reality when I heard it. I also think that parents tend to overlook how things have actually gotten quite a bit easier over the years. It's easy to forget that we start with infants who need everything done for them... that even when we have a screaming, obstinant, three-year-old the truth is that at the very least she can feed herself, she's probably at least partially potty trained, and she's interested in a lot of the same things that we are interested in ourselves.

And we do get better at our job. I always thought that getting better at what you're doing was the root of all tasks getting easier.

Sure, the obstacles and difficulties don't simply disappear. They do in fact just changed to new obstacles and difficulties. We look forward to the day when our children gain independence but then, when they do, we worry about them instead of rejoicing.

Having just had another baby five months ago, I am remembering the things that I miss from M's infancy and also the challenges that face a mother with a baby. It is now remarkably more difficult to go shopping, to go swimming, to garden, to eat dinner, to sleep. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed being able to finish my own dinner without being interrupted, and sleeping for a full eight hours straight.

An infant needs you even at the most inconvenient times to do basically everything for him. A three-year-old needs you to remind her of the rules almost constantly. A six-year-old needs you to enforce the rules because she's starting to learn that she can get away with breaking them when you're not looking.

An infant doesn't need you to make dinner for him but requires that you change his diaper. The three-year-old doesn't need you to remind her to go potty but you have to watch her carefully in parking lots. The six-year-old doesn't need you to keep her entertained at all times but requires help with her homework or, if you're homeschooling, her entire education.

To me, it feels like things have gotten easier. But I suppose it depends heavily on what you consider to be the most difficult challenges. I would much prefer watching the three-year-old in the parking lot and educating the six-year-olds rather than losing sleep and being interrupted by the hungry wails of the baby every hour or two.

However, what the cub does to make up for all of his many demands is payment enough. His smiles, his giggles, his adorable infant behaviors sometimes make me wish that he would remain my little cub for years to come even if it means spit up and soiled diapers all the while.

I do remember what it was like to be a new mom (with premature twins, when I was 19, mind you). I remember panicking about every little thing, losing sleep, and wishing my kids would just grow up and become independent. I waited anxiously for every milestone, thinking once they could sit up, once they could feed themselves, once they could walk... then maybe I would have some more time to myself. But sitting up freed them to make bigger messes, feeding themselves turned to them hating all of my favorite meals, and walking... if you have children, you know what comes of walking. Now, I wish the time would slow down and I could enjoy every first. I have pictures of the cub smiling, grabbing his toes, of the first time he put his toes in his mouth.

Maybe I've just become less selfish.

So I guess what I'm saying is I'm not sure it gets easier. Like anything else, you have to take the good with the bad. At least for me, the truth has been that I have simply learned to appreciate the difficult times. I'm not always happy. Sometimes I don't get enough sleep and I become intolerable. But I do cherish the time that I get to spend with my infant, my three-year-old, and my six-year-olds.

Six years into motherhood, and I can say that I have felt like the time was both going to fast and not fast enough.

Babysitting

My girls had a babysitter a couple of times in Hawaii. We had friends watch them once or twice as well. They were dropped off, in a hurry, at a friend's house when I had to take their dad to the hospital once, for instance. And the twins stayed, for a day, at a fellow military family's house while I was in the hospital delivering M. As a married couple, I think their dad and I only managed to get babysitting for dates twice in the two years we were together.

When I was in the hospital with the Cub, the girls were watched by a close family friend who basically lived at our house for a few days so Papa could be at the hospital with me. That same friend has watched them for us a few times before, so we could see a movie or go to dinner. But, since the Cub was born, I've been with him almost without interruption.

Sure, I've gone to Target a few times without a single one of the tinies. Target is literally less than 2 miles away, and when I go, I have to drag everyone with me or go completely alone. Someone has to stay home with the kids. Still, I do love a chance to shop for clothes and makeup without having to repeatedly herd the kids back into an area where I can see them all.

When the girls' dad comes to take them, we are down three kids, but we still have the Cub. Granted, he doesn't complain if we go out to dinner somewhere that doesn't have chicken nuggets.

In over four months, Papa and I hadn't had any time together without the kids. Actually, the last time I'm sure we spent one-on-one time together was about 9 months ago, on our anniversary. But, I might be wrong. It's all a bit of a blur.

Then, last weekend, we had a babysitter for the first time. We found her on sittercity.com (where I found the babysitter we used in Hawaii). We interviewed her to make sure she was a good fit.

Am I the only parent who specifically looks for someone who doesn't think they're a better parent than me? Yeah, it would be cool to have a babysitter who does yoga with my kids or teaches them a second language or something. But, I worry about people who might think I'm a monster if they found out that sometimes I let my kids play in their playroom... alone *gasp*. I'm not interested in a babysitter who would judge me harshly if they came over and saw the twins playing math games or watching PBS shows in their iPad, or if I told them I sometimes leave the Cub in his crib, when he's awake, because I need to not be holding a baby constantly.

I like a sitter who has raised kids. Then you can bet they have a better idea of when to worry and what to panic about. I don't want to get a call because M won't take a nap or eat her lunch, or the Cub won't stop crying. On the other hand, if S fell out of the tree and she seems injured, or if someone threw up, I want to know.

Anyhow, we had a babysitter over for five hours, giving us enough time to drive to Eldorado Canyon Park, hike a mile out and a mile back (with some amateur attempts at bouldering thrown in), and stop for some soup in bread bowls at Panera on our way back. It was wonderful to finally be able to do a hike that wasn't flat and basically paved. Also, neither of us had been to that particular park, and we want to go back with the kids. There's a trail there that is stroller friendly, and we found out that the park has programs for kids.

When we got home, M and the Cub had taken a nap, all of the girls had eaten a snack, and everyone had gone for a walk. They were all happy and playing outside.

We'll have her back this weekend.

Sid the Science Kid

I've been reading other moms' forum and blog posts complaining about this show. My kids watch it. They sing the songs and they actually learn things from it. Plus, it inspires them to ask questions. Today, they were telling me about apple trees growing from apple seeds which come from apples. Then they asked, "how did we get apple trees before there were apples?" and we got to talk (briefly and simply) about plant evolution. Which received a reply of, "Oh! Like people!"

Anyway, some other moms are unimpressed. The complaints I'm reading, though, are pretty ridiculous.

One mom who clearly wants her kids to be prepared for the over-crowded reality of public school said, "What the heck kind of school does he go to that only has 4 students in a class and only studies science?!"

I don't know what kind of school he goes to. There are lots of different types of schools and instructional methods out there, though. There are small groups of kids from different families who do what I would call homeschooling together, and there are child-lead curriculums that often result in science-heavy learning because kids at that age have a lot of questions about how the world works and why. It never occurred to me to question these things because they reflect my homeschooling pretty well. My students are all siblings (and my children), but its pretty incredible how much science we end up studying compared to math or any other subject.

Another mom said some of the kids sound like they're high. I'm not going to say much about that comment but... they're kids! They have different voices. Never once have I thought any one of them sounded "high". That mom also said one of the kids sounds like he's about to attack the other kids. While I don't deny that you can read aggression in a voice even when a person is smiling, the kid she's talking about just happens to have a slightly lower-pitch kid voice. He's always smiling and kind of goofy.

This mom isn't kind in her judgement of anyone in Sid's classroom (except for Sid, strangely). Regarding Sid's teacher, she said, "And what the frick is up with the kids calling their teacher Miss Suzie???? I doubt that's her last name. And why in the heck does she dance around like a stripper when she moves across the classroom?"

Is it really so wrong to call your teacher by her first name? Is that never acceptable? And why is it important what they call her, as long as it's not offensive?

About the dancing... I had no recollection of anyone dancing like a stripper, so I watched an episode to see what she was talking about. Let me just say, I'm not sure what stripper you're referring to but Miss Suzie dances like a muppet. There's good reason for that, too. This show as created by the Jim Henson Company using Henson Digital Puppetry Studio. They use motion capture, which, "allows the Company's world-class performers to puppeteer and voice digitally animated characters in real time creating a unique, more spontaneous and fresh result." (source)

If you don't know how motion capture works, imagine people in body suits, with ping pong balls taped to them so a camera can watch the white orbs move around and then interpret that as a digital figure moving around on a screen. Simple enough until you consider that the characters in Sid's world are shaped more like the monsters on Sesame Street than like actual people. I've included a picture of one of the puppeteers who does the dancing that ends up as the animations for the characters.

Seriously. Personally, I wouldn't knock Miss Suzie's dancing until you've tried to dance in something like that. I haven't. I imagine it's embarrassing and silly. Also, I imagine it would be incredibly difficult to make it come out looking like a human, dancing.

Maybe you just hate dancing, or are offended by educators being happy and active and enjoying their jobs. True, I can't remember a single public school teacher in my whole childhood ever dancing, and Miss Suzie does it several times per episode. On the other hand, I dance all the time. I dance when I'm doing dishes, holding the baby, folding the laundry, playing in the sprinkler, cleaning the play room... Maybe that's another artifact of public schools.

Being Flexible

Sunday night, I was thinking, "Tomorrow, I want to work with the girls on some calendar recognition or money value work." I meant to practice that stuff a couple of weeks ago, but I had planned to use worksheets and the printer ran out of ink.

We keep forgetting to pick up ink. That's most of the truth. The last time I went to Target, I did all of the grocery shopping I needed to do, and some clothes shopping for myself and M, since we're lacking things that fit and are appropriate for the weather. Then, I remembered I needed to get ink. I had just picked up bananas so the ink was all the way on the opposite side of the store. At some point, while passing the check out lanes, I decided I didn't have the energy for dealing with the electronics section and its overly attentive customer service reps.

Anyway, I came up with other ways I could teach the lessons and was planning to start that on Monday. But it was 80 degrees outside, sunny, and beautiful.

We wound up spending Monday afternoon outside, talking about our robin, the drought, bugs, trees and why ours don't have leaves yet. They played in the sprinkler. Yes, we're having a drought. So I justified it to them by explaining that I literally never water our lawn (front or back), and we're allowed to water it twice a week according to the city. So it seems okay to turn the sprinkler on for 20 minutes, once a week, for them to play in it.

We watched mama robin, who built her nest on top of a construction project on our patio, come and go. She laid her fourth, and final, egg yesterday morning. Now she's basically always in attendance unless she's taking a quick break to eat. I got an opportunity to talk to them about why she sometimes stands over her eggs, and other times she sits on them.

I laid in the grass and watched them play with a tiny caterpillar that they valiantly saved from an ant. Then, C made a "grass sandwich" with her towel and we talked about what types of animals might eat a grass sandwich... then what types of dinosaurs. S started to pretend to eat grass because she was a horse. And all of this while the cloth diapers were bleaching in the sun (which I also got to explain to them).

We had a great time. And it was far more educational than what I had planned. I find they learn a lot more when I let them lead. Everyone has a much better time of it, too. Still... it would be useful if they had a better grasp of how many days are in a week and how many pennies go into a dime. But we'll get to that.

UPDATE: About Bear Bear's Recovery.

In my last post, I told you about Bear Bear's misfortunes (and how enraged I was that those he was entrusted to were not more responsible). It still amazes me that some people... some parents... seem to have no understanding of or respect for the attachment that a three-year-old can have for a beloved stuffed animal.

For some kids, it's a blanket or a pacifier, or a shirt. For M, it's her bear bear. As I mentioned before, she's had him since before she could stand. She picked him out at Target in Hawaii by grabbing him instead of a couple of other animals I was offering her. If he had been alive, she would have strangled him instantly considering the force with which she shoved his soft, furry head into her face. I didn't think much of it at the time. I figured she didn't even realize she was making a choice. Now, about three years later, she will accept no substitutes. She won't even have a brand new, soft, furry copy of the same bear that I found on Ebay. She must have her raggedy old bear. (I should start calling him The Doctor).

Well, while he was away, he was mauled by a German Shepherd with a known stuffed animal mauling problem. I was informed of this in the first text I got from their daddy after he took them to Colorado Springs. My heart sank.

For me... sadness and disappointment of this type often turns to a near rage. I paced and ranted about this being such a stupid thing for him to have allowed and what a tragedy it was. Admittedly, this was fueled at least in part by how much I missed my beloved security animal when my grandparents left it behind at a hotel when I was a kid.

Yes, I always blame these incidences on the adults who were present at the time. Can you really hold a three-year-old accountable for leaving her bear bear unattended in a house with a known stuffed animal predator? She generally can't even remember where she left him when bed time comes around and he's not in her bed.

I guess I should get to the point, which is: Bear bear turned out... okay. I didn't see his wounds before they were mended. I know he was missing his tail and tag from the previous trip with daddy, when the same German Shepherd attacked him. She loved his tag and still rubs her face on the spot where it once was. Now he's a bit shorter and thinner due to reconstructive surgery performed by the girls' great grandma. He apparently lost some fabric and some filling in the war.

The bear on the left in the top picture is "new bear", the exact bear bear replica I found on Ebay, when I was worried that bear bear would soon fall apart. She has hardly touched "new bear" and seems to find him inferior to bear bear.

When he was returned, in the arms of his beloved person, bear bear still had a 3/4-inch run in the fabric on his chest. That bit was barely held together by the few, tiny, remaining threads of fabric. To prevent future disaster, I got M's permission to sew a patch over his little heart... a little, red-velvet, heart-shaped patch.

She loved the idea. And now the raggedy bear bear is a new man.

So Far

The girls are coming home tomorrow. I'm incredibly glad they'll be back soon. I miss them. We have managed to do some things we'd been putting off and we got to spend some time together, but I'm ready for life to go back to normal.

On my side of this separation, a lot got done. I've been getting my exercise routine done as often as I originally intended to. I've done all of the laundry including folding and putting away. I have slept in, stayed up late, and caught up on shows I'm interested in.

Papa and I did some careful, not so rushed shopping and managed to forget something anyway. We still cant remember what. But we did get an extra car seat and stroller for my baby niece when my mom and sister bring her next month.

We went out to eat several times because we rarely get to with the tinies. We ordered pizza once and ate it while watching a movie on the couch.

I finally got to go in the REI we always drive by when we go to the children's museum. Papa returned the shoes I ordered that didn't fit him and got a new pair of those crazy 5-fingers things. We also wandered the store to see if we could find anything else we had been needing to get. We wound up with new bite valves for the kids' camelbak cups, and a smaller knife hat Papa can take to work. We wouldn't have even made it through the trying on shoes portion with the kids in tow. Papa would have had to go on his own after work.

We were going to try to go hiking because we love hiking and the girls are at just the wrong age for it, it seems. They can't really be carried, but lack the physical endurance to go very far under their own power. unfortunately, we didn't manage to hike because the weather was just not quite warm down here in the plains, so we were pretty sure we couldn't comfortably hike the Cub around in the mountains in plain clothes. Plus, it was threatening to rain the whole time.

Instead, we found ourselves at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, where we have a membership but rarely use it because M, particularly, isn't really interested in that sort of thing yet. The Cub isn't either, but the worst he can do is fuss for a bit and fall asleep. Papa saw the gems and minerals exhibit for the first time (what a bore that would have been for the girls). We also explored their temporary mammoths and mastodons exhibit. It was amazing, and we're considering taking the twins to see it (still not sure if M would appreciate it).

First picture I could find of
M and her Bear bear

On the other side, I haven't heard much from the girls or their dad. What I have heard has me concerned.

The first text I got from their dad was "... Atlas may have killed bearbear." I tried to respond without anger. Atlas is a German Shepherd. He used to be our dog, but we couldn't control him so we gave him to the girls' aunt. He is better behaved under her stewardship, but still unruly.  He is known to destroy things, particularly unfamiliar things. And bear bear is M's favorite thing. She panics and cries if she can't find him, and she always wants him when she's trying to sleep or calm down from an upset. She's had him since she was barely older than the Cub is now. He's worn out and ragged. I once scoured the internet trying to find a duplicate bear bear. I found the exact same bear and tried to convince her to let me replace him (lest he fall apart someday in the near future) and "new bear", as she calls him, simply wasn't good enough and has been more or less ignored since then.

This, by the way, isn't the first time my girls' most beloved things have been damaged in significant ways by that dog. It... frustrates (for lack of more colorful word at the moment) me that they would even let him near these important things. Eos recently ate half of one of my socks when she was panicked because she couldn't find me. She has never destroyed my kids' things because I keep most of their things in a room she knows she's not allowed to go in. And the things that get lovingly dragged around the house (like bear bear), Eos knows she'll pay dearly for if she mistreats them. I love my dog. But I have made sure she knows her place. And the things I can't totally control in her behavior, I compensate for.

When I got that text, I paced and ranted for a while. Then said, "I need to do something else" and we went out to water the garden.

Their dad claims that great grandma managed to sew bear bear up to M's satisfaction. I'm still worried.

He also said that, "the girls keep telling me about what their parents let them do..." and I have to admit that, however selfishly, I felt better when he said that. The girls know that Papa is not their dad. We've talked about Papa being to the Cub what Daddy is to them... that Daddy helped make my little girls and Papa helped make my boy. Of course, they know that Papa still loves them, cares for them, and wants the best for them just the same. But kids say things they don't understand the weight of sometimes.

I hope their dad handled that with grace. Sometimes it can be difficult to remember, when they say something that hurts us, that they're only 6 and 3 and didn't mean for their words to be so sharp. They don't understand that words can be weapons, and they are just as clumsy with them as they would be with a broadsword. They've said things that set me off before, too. Most of the time, I try to swallow my pride and take them for innocent, misplaced, misunderstood words. But I have not always been so careful.

It's Not All Bad

I know I've been complaining and worrying on here a lot recently. I apologize. I guess I'm just getting comfortable with the idea of being honest on the Internet. I did, after all, start this blog with the intent to share with you the reality of parenting and homeschooling. I think it's clear by now that this is meant to be the gritty, real story, not just butterflies and sunshine.

Still, it's not at all fair to focus so much on the negatives without remembering the positives.

The twins are reading enthusiastically. At night, when we ask if they want us to read to them or if they would rather read to us, they regularly choose the latter. And, several pages into green eggs and ham or fox in socks, we ask if they want us to take over but they never do. They're not getting frustrated almost ever, and they're getting so much better at sounding out words and matching the series of sounds to a word they know.

I have to wonder if their new desire to read stems from us reading the original Winnie the Pooh stories to them. It seems like there is some kind of magic in finding real, narrative stories that engage the kids. They do love those stories, and its the first series of stories we've found that they can consistently remember the next night.


They're writing a lot, too. C is sounding out and writing lots of words and S is practicing writing letters and putting together a few words here and there. S has started doing word-finds and color-by-numbers, requiring her to read. C made her own color-by-number, requiring her to spell. And all of this was completely voluntary.

We're working on understanding fractions through baking. Wednesday, the twins measured oil and water for a box mix pan of brownies that they picked out at the store with me. I'm not a box mix kind of girl, but it does lower the stress and frustration level when I'm trying to use baking to teach them something. They love baking.

M, being only 3, is asking a lot of questions and making up a lot of crazy answers for her own questions. I'm compelled to correct her a lot of the time because I don't want her to go on thinking that our freezer makes chicken nuggets. But, on the other hand, I don't want to ruin her fanciful make believe world. And, besides, I can never correct all of her misconceptions about the world. When i was little, I honestly thought that cats were girls and dogs were boys and they secretly got married. Thanks, Lisa Frank.

She talks a lot. I find I am literally not able to listen to her as much as she wants to talk or ask questions or I wouldn't be able to get things done around the house. I'd just be sitting next to a 3-year-old, explaining why my dog doesn't have a tail, why some ants bite, and why screaming and ignoring your sisters doesn't solve your problems... constantly.

She's learning about shapes and numbers and recognizing letters. The other day, I found her playing a geography game on the iPad and doing just about as we'll at it as I did. I think she is just that good at recognizing and remembering shapes.

C has learned to play the chords of hush little baby in her guitar class. At home, we taught her twinkle twinkle because she loves that song. She and S also love to sing Kukaburra and Train's "Brick by Brick".

I'm not sure if S has learned much of anything tangible at her soccer practices and games, but she has gained confidence and become less shy. She also looks healthier, I think. In a way, I'm a little sad that she'll be taking the summer off.

Papa's new job gives him a couple of months off for the summer, so we're looking forward to taking the kids to the park, the zoo, the children's museum, and the lake. We're also going to have my mom and sister visiting next month, and a week-long vacation in the mountains in July.

I worry and complain; I guess it's in my nature to always want things to be better. Nothing is perfect. I still haven't figured out how to convince them to flush the toilet, put their dishes in the sink, or leave their dirty clothes in the hamper and not on the floor reliably, but life is pretty good.

Getting what I asked for

I'm about to get that "one week" I asked for, and I'm actually a little scared. The girls's dad is coming this weekend to take them for almost a week to visit his family. I'm worried because time with their dad has resulted in some behavior back-sliding in the past.

I'll finally get a weekend to spend with papa, and several week days when I can work out and do housework without interruption. Maybe I'll even manage to go somewhere by myself for once. But, when they come back, what am I going to have to contend with?

The last time they vacationed with him, they did almost no homeschooling. When they were returned to me, they were all at least partially un-potty trained. Shortly after their time away, while we were viewing houses with intent to buy one and move, one of the girls tried to poop in the yard at one of the houses we were considering. Good thing we were watching her.

When I sent them off with him, only one of them was having accidents. The wet spots were small and not every day. When he brought them back, he claimed they were all having huge accidents every single day while they were with him, and one of them (the same who attempted the outdoor potty scene with us, later) had been sneaking out into their great grandparents' back yard to poop.

One of the girls still hasn't fully recovered from the un-potty training of their last adventure, but we've made great strides in returning their behavior to previous standards. I'm worried, though, about the prospect of spending months trying to "fix" them every time he brings them back home, and never making progress as a result.

On a lighter note, we had some great weather over the weekend and really got to take advantage of it. On Saturday, we had a soccer game in the sun. Sunday, we went to the zoo. On our way home, I made a pit-stop at Target and bought a small, inflatable pool, four new swimming suits and three pairs of child-sized goggles. We set up the pool and filled it Sunday night and had cheesy, grilled brats for dinner. Then, the girls got to play in their new pool Monday afternoon after the sun had warmed the water a bit.


I'm glad we fully enjoyed those days. On Tuesday night, it snowed. It's still snowing now, on Wednesday afternoon.