Learning to be a SAHM {phfr}

I didn't plan on having kids until about 8 years ago when I found out I was pregnant with Shaver. Now I have three children and the cost of child care has convinced me that I am more needed in my home than in the workforce.
It's been a trying few months. Scout and I do not see eye-to-eye on anything! I was beginning to lose my sanity. I was angry, resentful, bored. And then it all seemed to come to me in the middle of the night the way the ghosts of Christmas visited Scrooge. I won't delve into all of it now, but one of the things I realized was how responsible I am for the children's education. There is no more day care or nanny--I am it. (You're all thinking Duh... How is this lady a mother? In my defense, going from working full time to stay at home mom and suddenly caring for 3 children every moment of the day was a bit overwhelming at first.) 
So here it is, my plan for educating my children and maintaining my sanity: weekly themes! 

{pretty}
Scout has the biggest, most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

It's not overly difficult. I simply pick one theme to focus on for a week. I pick projects and activities and even some television shows to watch based on the theme. It keeps the kids and I both interested, promotes learning and growth, and exposes the children to new ideas and concepts.

Last week, our theme was monkeys.

{happy}
Look how happy this kid is! He is so happy to be spending fun time with me. And he is so proud of his idea to take my handprint and turn it into a gorilla.

Picking a theme can be easy or difficult. I try to follow my children's lead. I was inspired to run a monkey theme when Scout was going through her closet and pulled out her old monkey Halloween costume. Next week, we'll go with Valentine's. We're doing dinosaurs this week because I was playing around on Pinterest and found some fabulous ideas for activities for the kids.

{funny}
Scout tries to hold conversations with Pepper. These conversations tend to be one-sided.

Which leads to "How do you plan a weekly theme?" I keep it light. It sounds so overwhelming, and it really can be. The girls are young enough that it would not be appropriate to try to run entire days around a theme. Let's be real: Scout likes her dolly time and Pepper likes her eating time. I try to find one activity, project, or idea to try once a day. If the kids are into it, we might do more than one a day. If they aren't, the activity might last 5 minutes.

{real}
Each of the children has their own idea of how to paint a monkey using their handprint. 

I try to think of my own ideas. I knew we had to sing "5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" during monkey week. And then I was thinking about how cold and miserable it has been. And I thought, let's find some toy monkeys and dress up in that Halloween costume and sing and act out the song.

I wander around Pinterest or Google for inspiration.
I look on our book shelf or through Netflix. Episodes and books of "Curious George" for monkey week? Yes, please!
If the kids have an idea, we go with it.

And now that this has been going on for a good month, the creative juices are flowing. Shaver is coming up with ideas. Scout celebrates the introduction of each new theme. The gears in my old think box are moving again!

{phfr}
I will miss those pretty little hands when they get older.
This picture reminds me of how happy we were together, painting these monkeys.
I think this is a funny little idea.
Fingerprints smudged in my house? How much more real would you like to get?

This whole theme idea might die off at the end of February. It might go strong until Scout enters 4K. I don't know. But what I can tell you is that picking a theme helps me focus. I have and see so many ideas that I feel overwhelmed. Picking a theme helps me to weed through the overwhelming-ness of it all. 

The kids enjoy the themes because there's always something different or new to try. It doesn't take over our lives; it enhances it. It ensures good quality time together.

All of these activities have value. They develop various motor, language, sensory, and cognitive skills. I'm learning that every moment has opportunities for learning and fun. 

I am learning to be a Stay At Home Mom. I am learning to be a better mom.

Thanksgiving 2013 {phfr}

It's been nearly two years since I've done a {pretty, happy, funny, real} post, so here goes nothing!

We spent Thanksgiving with my mother's family. Pepper is nearly a month old and as I'm the only one in that family with children, there was a lot of "baby worshiping". 

{pretty}

Isn't my aunt pretty? She's simply lovely. She never had any children of her own, but can you imagine how beautiful her babies would have been?


My aunt was much more prepared to entertain my 6 year old than I was.

{happy}

Shaver was THRILLED that Auntie brought him a gingerbread house to decorate. Here he is, proudly showing off his completed house. (Note that he decorated the house as it was pictured on the box.)


Little Scout is too funny.

{funny}

She has been taking an endless stream of self-portraits. This is unintentional. She thinks she is taking photos of the rest of the family.


And a real moment of decorating captured.

{real}

Scout is still trying to learn her place in our family. She's no longer the baby but isn't quite old enough to do what her brother does. She's just stuck.

Happy Holidays, from our family to your's!

Introducing Pepper!

I really should have written this about a month ago, but you know how it is with a house to run. I'm not sitting at home eating mountains of fruit snacks and watching Dexter reruns ALL day. (okay, maybe I am a little.)

So without a further ado, duh duh duh duh.....

MEET PEPPER!

Last Christmas, Aaron's aunt asked when we were planning to have our next baby. We looked at each other bewildered. We already had two and had quietly discussed a third but were pretty sure we couldn't afford to have another one. Auntie said she had been praying for us and God had showed her we were going to have another baby in the next 12 months. Hmmm....

My brother and I were speaking on the phone in late January. He told me I was pregnant and was going to have another girl who looked similar to Scout. I laughed because there was no way I was pregnant.

Two weeks later, a missed period and home pregnancy test said, yes, you are indeed pregnant. Guess Auntie and Brother were right...

The doctor originally said I was due October 9, but later changed the date to October 20.

Sunday, October 13, I woke up feeling funny. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but something was off. I kept wondering if I was in labor but I wasn't in any pain. I was just feeling "icky". I took Scout and Shaver to the apple orchard and shopping that day. We had a normal bed time because of school the next morning, and I went to bed thinking I was going to work in the morning.

I woke up about 12:45am with a contraction. Whooo.... am I in labor? I wondered. I hadn't packed a bag for the hospital yet. When I had another contraction 7 minutes later, I decided to get up and pack a bag. I was wide awake and figured, "Why not?"

Between then and 3:30, I packed my bag for the hospital and clothes for the children. I took a shower. I had some coffee. I had some Gatorade. I sat and rested occasionally. It finally sunk in that I was in labor.

I sat on the edge of the bed and called quietly to my husband. "Aaron?"
"Yeah?"
"I think you may have to call in to work today."

He was up immediately, reaching for his phone, searching for the phone number of his employer. He began pacing, fumbling for his coat and cigarettes. "How much time do we have?"
"I don't know. I'd say a good three or four hours before we have to go to the hospital."
"How far apart are your contractions?"
Hmmm..... I hadn't been keeping track. "Eh, every seven minutes or so."

After calling his boss, I told him to take a shower.
"Do I have time to make coffee?"
"Make your coffee... I could use some too," I told him.

At 4:15 my contractions were heavier and Aaron asked what we were doing with the kids. "Are you calling someone or are we taking them to the hospital with us?" he asked. I dismissed him, saying we had time. "No, I think we better go soon," he insisted.

Sure, sure.

I arranged child care and called the hospital about 4:30am. After we dropped off the kids, I asked Aaron if I could swing by work. My boss was out of state for the rest of the week and I wanted to put the phone on call forwarding.
"SERIOUSLY?"
"It'll take 2 minutes," I said.

After my stop at work and a brief lecture from my employer, we were on our way to the hospital. We left our bags in the truck because my contractions were getting heavier and I was really starting to feel nauseous.

Now, when I had my first two children, I had them at the same hospital. I had been met with a wheel chair and had completed my entrance information in my room. Not this time!

We waited for a few minutes for a receptionist....
And then they weren't sure which patient I was.
Breathing heavily, unable to speak, I nodded or shook my head as they asked me questions to confirm my place of residence and phone number. Did I have my insurance card? Let's go ahead and scan that... And we need you to sign these waivers. By this time, I was nearly hysterical. The contractions were hard and fast and I was gasping for air. I wasn't in a lot of pain but there was a tremendous amount of pressure.
I thought my body language signaled urgency but I wasn't able to speak. Everything seemed surreal.

"Troy?" the receptionist called to the security guard, "Do you have time to take these folks up to Labor and Delivery?"
Troy sauntered over. "Sure..."

We walked towards the elevator.
About fifteen feet from the reception desk and just out of eye sight of the emergency waiting room, I paused with an especially  heavy contraction, leaning up against the wall for support.
Suddenly, "Oh F.....!" I yelled.
I heard a splash and looked down. My water had broken. I looked to my husband for help, and he looked to Troy.
"I'm going to go get a wheelchair," he called, walking quickly away.

A nurse opened a side door from the emergency room and asked if we needed help.
I couldn't answer. I looked up at the wall in front of me and stared at the letters on the sign of the billing department.

All I could feel was pressure, pressure, pressure. I closed my eyes and waddled towards the elevator. The wetness was making me hysterical but the pressure had me frantic. I held my breath, hoping that would help.

Suddenly there were nurses running down a stairwell. Aaron and Troy tried to get me in the wheelchair, but I couldn't sit. There was a nurse yelling for gloves and a bag. "I need gloves, NOW!" she yelled.

I looked at her face and knew that she knew what was happening. "The baby's head is out," I managed to pant through clenched teeth.

I don't know exactly how it all happened but the following occurred in a matter of seconds.

That nurse ripped my pants and underwear off, another nurse grabbed my leg and told me to hold it up while the first nurse did something down there that made me feel like they were pushing the baby back in.

"No!" I cried.
"Yes!" the second nurse directed.
"I need a good push," the first nurse directed and then yelled, "Someone get down there so this baby doesn't hit the floor!"
I closed my eyes and pushed. And there she was.

The elevator doors opened as Pepper and I locked eyes for the first time.
I was completely overwhelmed.

"Time of birth... 5:12 am," the nurse announced.


I'll leave the story at that for you.

Later we had to make the calls.....

Hey, Brother! Guess you were right......

We sat and admired the beautiful baby.

7 lbs exactly, 19.5 inches long

We had visitors. Scout was very excited to get a baby sister.

Scout is in love

Shaver groaned when I announced the gender. "Really, Mom? Ewww.... Come on!"
"Hey, she's pretty special," I told him. "She was born in the elevator!"
He seemed pretty cool with her after that.

Shaver is proud, even if the baby is a girl....

And by noon the next day, we went home.

I wonder what future adventures we'll have together...

How a Toy Advertisement Shook My Understanding of Who I Am

When I was in third grade, I stopped playing with dolls. Well, at least publicly. At some point it became socially unacceptable to play with dolls.

I had forgotten about this until a friend shared this video on Facebook.

My immediate reaction to this video was "Girl Power!" I was raised by a single mom who taught me feminism. She taught me to never depend on a man, to be self-sufficient and independent. Upon further reflection, I remember early reinforcement from teachers at school to go to college, develop a career and achieve personal greatness. I was taught to value womens' abilities to succeed in the workforce and girls' abilities to do every thing a boy can do.

Why, then, was I frowning by the end of the video?

The song in the video repeatedly puts down the color pink. For the record, I have never cared for the color pink. When I was pregnant with my first two children, I was emphatic that no one buy pink if the baby were to be a girl. I didn't like the gender stereotype of "Pink for Girls". Within a week of Scout being born, I realized that several shades of pink were very flattering to her complexion and began to ask for pink clothing. Now that she's two, I try to let her pick out clothing, shoes, and toys; generally she does choose the color pink.

There's also a line in the song about how girls are only given dolls to play with. You and I both know this is a generalization but as Scout has been getting older, it's become increasingly apparent how innate the urge to nurture must be. She is so careful and so loving with her dolls as she practices her mommy skills. So now I'm asking myself what is wrong with girls, or boys for that matter, playing with dolls? Don't they teach and develop empathy and kindness in our young ones?

You can hate Barbies all you want, but don't they even have a value? I remember creating elaborate story lines for my dolls as a child. Didn't that help me develop my imagination and practice my communication skills?

I'm not stating that there is no place in the market for toys that encourage girls to develop math and science skills. I am stating that the message that dolls are bad toys is dangerous.

I recently became a stay-at-home mom. It took my having three children to finally recognize that my greatest accomplishment should be the raising of my children. How did it take 6 years and the birth of three children to come to that conclusion?

I believe that as a child of the '90s, I was given the message that family and all that is girliness is socially unacceptable. I was taught to want to be independent and career-oriented--to do what the boys do. This advertisement reminded me of these messages and suddenly I have an epiphany: Have I really hated the color pink? Did I really stop playing with dolls because I didn't like them? Did I go to college because I wanted a career? Or was I just taught these values and they were so deeply embedded that I thought I was doing what I wanted?

No wonder I have been struggling with motherhood and mother love--feeling resentful that I'm not excelling in the workforce and kicking corporate butt and am wiping butts and noses instead.

It's so late in life to be questioning where my values have come from and how much sense they make, but I'm beginning to feel that maybe I've been brainwashed all along.

Early Christmas Blessings

So much to talk about. So much to write. I feel my head spinning when I think of what I want to talk about. I suppose I'll share the biggest news around here.

Our Christmas was looking a little Charlie Brownish. We have each other, a roof over our heads, love for our Lord, Jesus Christ, and the bills are paid (sort of). It didn't look like we'd get to buy the children presents. We'd already told friends and family not to expect any gifts from us. We are not going to rack up huge credit card bills that we can't afford to pay. Everyone was very kind and understanding.

I only had enough money to spend about $20 on Evan. Not much, but enough for him to have three very small gifts under the tree. I had cleverly hidden Evan's baby toys away many years ago and planned on wrapping three "recycled" gifts for Eliana. (We do three per child because that was the number Jesus received when he was born.)

Then, we had a number of Christmas miracles:

1) Aaron and I each received a check from my step-mom and her husband in birthday cards last week.
2) My great aunt sent a check to be split between the children.
3) My mom sent a check that Aaron and I were to use towards gifts for the children and a birthday celebration for the two of us.
4) My father stopped by unexpectedly and left a card filled with several large bills and two gift cards.
5) My step-mom's husband sent a very large check, part of his inheritance from his father's passing just two months ago, in the hopes of providing a bright Christmas for our family.
6) The women's guild at our church took a collection for gifts for our children and talked to the pastor about writing us a check from the crisis fund.

Can you imagine the joy we felt by the outpouring of gifts? There was a lot of crying, quite a bit of embarassment and shame, and an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

We asked the church not to write us a check from the crisis fund because we aren't losing our home and there's food on the table. This is not a "crisis". There are others who would benefit far more from that money. We also told the women's guild about our recent gifts, but they insisted on giving us the donation to spend on ourselves or our children. (Maybe it's my ratty winter coat that moved them...)

We are so truly blessed to have so many care and show love for us. It's very humbling. Aaron and I are beyond words. There's nothing to say.

We bought a few gifts for BOTH children. Nothing outrageous--a few practical toys and outfits. The rest is probably going to go towards bills or tucked away for when we need it again. My guess is that it won't be long.

In the meantime, I have been praising God and praying that others are as blessed as we have been.

Happy Thanksgiving {phfr}

The children made this with the nanny!

This was the first Thanksgiving I've spent away from my grandparents in my conscious memory. I can't disclose all the reasons but suffice it to say that it wasn't a decision my husband and I made happily. The holidays were quite bittersweet for us. We spent the holiday focusing on the things that did make us happy and were able to spend the day after Thanksgiving with my grandparents.

{funny, happy}

On Thanksgiving day, we went to my mother's house with my brother and his longtime girlfriend. (Engaged? No. And I'm not expecting that anytime soon, but I love her just the same.) My mom was so happy to have her kids home for Thanksgiving. It was a quiet day of enjoying my children--entertaining Evan and admiring Eliana.








As you can see, I had to invest in a nice outfit for Evan. He's in the Christmas program at church this year as well as another at school. And I think it's a good tradition for young children to look as nice as the adults on the holidays. There's a reason to dress nicely for the occasion.

{real}

{funny, happy, real}

We spent the day after Thanksgiving at my grandparents' house. We always used to make cookies on that Friday. This year, Gram was too tired to make dough from scratch and the whole family wasn't there, but that was okay. We used refridgerated cookie dough, and Evan had a great time making "Gingy-bread mans" with Gram. He was so delighted when he discovered that he could use two different candies to make the eyes or buttons. Funny kid!




Gram also was able to spend time holding her long-awaited great-granddaughter. She's been quietly and patiently waiting for a granddaughter.

{pretty, happy, real}

The Bathroom {phfr}

{Pretty}

This is the painting hanging above my toilet. Silly place to put such a beautiful painting, isn't it? I've had it for nearly ten years now and just love it. I feel such tranquility when I look at it.

Maybe the bathroom is a good place for this painting after all!

{Happy}

Looks pretty happy with his mess, doesn't he? Right before I snapped this picture, Evan asked me, "Mom, have you seen my widdle fiwetwuck?"
"Ummm... no."

{Funny}

This is a sign that we had to put on our bathroom door. I wish I was kidding. But we have a blind cat. He's memorized the way the house is supposed to be. If, for example, he usually jumps up to the toilet seat and sits in wait while I shower but said toilet seat is left up, there is a good chance a blind cat will fall into the bowl.

{Real}

Babies don't like ribbons.

Did you find contentment this week?