What They Said Wednesday

Charlotte (after cutting out ten sight words to glue onto the right colums)

"I just don't think my arms have enough strength to glue these to the papers after all that cutting, you'll have to help me."

Charlotte (on why when she is practicing with her best friend, I should not expect that she is practicing any actual skills)

"When I am skating with my BFF we should only be having fun, what happens if we practice our skills together and only teach each other our mistakes?"

Luke to Eleanor:

"You're like a little person now, you walk and do things.  You just don't talk.  You might want to work on that. "

Molly, on defecting to Canada and claiming political asylum if you're candidate looses the election:"But I don't really want to be Canadian, I hate hockey, and I still want to eat normal bacon."

Samuel replies "Molly, you're the dumbest, smart person I know.  Sorry, that was mean right Mom?"

Um.. yes.  That was mean.  Hey at least he noticed right?!!  Thankfully she laughed.

Eleanor, on everything:

"Yay!!!"

Then This Happened.

I went on strike this week.  Well, I went on a limited strike.  As of Tuesday morning I decided I was not participating in any kitchen related activities.  After spending an hour picking up my kitchen AGAIN that morning I decided that having someone cook for and pick up after you was a right.

So I may have gone a little overboard in announcing my decision to the  bewildered family, however -- they did all come home that evening and willingly pick up the kitchen, sweep the floor and was sure to have the dishes done that night after dad cooked them dinner.  Because let's face it - Dad can cook pancakes and tacos and after that they'd have been starring down Spaghettio's and sandwiches!

Here's to Fourteen.

This kid turned 14 Sunday, and I gotta say, it felt like an accomplishment that we made it that far.   Thirteen was NOT an easy year for dancer girl.  To start we left the ballet studio and company she was "home" with in January, suddenly and without a real chance to say good bye,  My health had taken a major downward spiral with my pregnancy and it just wasn't doable anymore.  It broke my heart, as well as hers.  The new studio, which was actually her old studio, was lovely and accomadating, and every bit as helpful as you would hope for. But at thirteen, change is hard, and friendships are harder.  It never really felt like she got her footing, or fell into a place she was comfortable in.  Summer came, and we tried to refocus, adjust our expectations of our end of things, and formulate a plotted road for moving forward.  She was still holding a grudge about leaving, and I was still trying to bury the tremendous guilt.  We almost had our legs back under us. 

Then August came and Dancer girl, arguably the most careful person I know, got daring on a trampoline and paid dearly for it.  She broker her humerous, (the upper arm) all the way through, just at the shoulder joint.  She missed two months of any kind of dancing, all the end of summer fun, and the back to school excitement.  Which meant by the time we were looking to get back into dance, by the time the PT was scheduled to be ending, and the slow recovery back to dancers speed -- we had missed the start to dance everywhere and anywhere.  Furthermore, as we were acutely aware, you can't join a company mid year.  Dance does not work like that.  We were facing another year, no matter where we landed, doing something "just to be dancing" and playing a waiting game of please dont loose to many skills before auditions.  Neither of us talked a ton about it, but it was a humbling and daunting reality. 

Then, just when we we had worked out, well at least something to try,  if not a solution in the long term, Dancer girl and Dancer girl's grandmother got into a car accident.  They hit a deer, head on, on the expressway.  Dancer girl took a frightening ambulance ride, and I waited out the longest drive to the emergency room of my life. In the end, we were lucky.  She had a concussion, and a pretty nasty one to boot, but was expected to make a full recovery.  We missed nearly two weeks of school, and three plus of dance.  By the time she went back, there was just weeks until the holiday break, one over which she had no Nutcracker to perform in, and no company rehearsals to fill the space.  We looked at each other at a total loss, and decided it was a good thing.  It gave her a nice, slow return, what after so long and so many injuries.  What else was there to do really?

It's January now, and she is back to taking regular ballet classes, though only a few times a week, she's working out at home, and we are trying to come up with the best plan to be back on track by fall.  It's complicated now by so many things, where does she want to be, what do we do about all the lost time, and where does she best fit now.  Pairing all of that with trying to let go of where she would be had we never left, had the shoulder never been an  issue, if that darn deer had just stayed put on the side of the road. Because if you've ever been a dancer you know, you never really make up lost time.  

In some ways, the forced break has been good.  It made Dancer Girl see that her true love is really ballet.  That she likes tap, and she likes contemporary ballet or modern, but that she hates jazz.  This kind of clarity makes it easier to narrow down the options. In part anyway.   

Its given way to the best grades of her life, not that her grades have ever really been a problem, but with all that extra study time, she is quite literally at the top of her class.  She won the school geography bee, she's racked in over forty hours of volunteer time working with mentally and developmentally disabled adults, earning her honors accolades at school, she's had two boyfriends (hold on while I catch my breath) and she's learning to cook, she's in the school musical. 

Having said all that, I am eager to see her on a stage, in those pointe shoes, sporting a tutu.  It occurred to me through all this that I didn't even go to her last recital.  We sent Jason, and I've spent a lot of nights worried it was the last one and I missed it.  

Without all that dance in the center, it's been an adjustment, because I found without ballet at the center, I wasn't sure who she was anymore.  I think she found the same.  

She's capable of a lot of things, but at the end of the day, Dancer Girl wants to do ballet, only know she knows why. 

A Visitor In The Night

Yes, we had a visit from a certain fairy of dental intentions this week.  Two actually, a first visit for one, one of the final visits for another.

Like the tooth fairy, the growing up stuff, it comes in the dark of night, on the busiest days, when you are least expecting it, and this mama is having a hard time accepting it right now.  How is it possible that the princess baby I waited so long for is loosing teeth and sounding out words?  The older kids are getting big too, and there will be more on that tomorrow.  But Charlotte? Perhaps because for so long we really thought Charlotte, was the baby of the family, or because in my head she's been the "last one" since before she was born (Surprise !  Eleanor!) but I am really struggling with her aging.  Even more so, in some ways then Eleanor turning one next week.  It just hardly seems possible.  If only there was away to freeze time. :(

For now, however, I need to record the facts.  Let the record show that it happened at the ice rink, as I suspect so many of Charlotte's "firsts" will.  She asked to take a sip of my drink and the next thing we knew, her tooth, which had been wiggling since late summer was gone.  :)  She was over the moon, and the tooth fairy left her a crisp new dollar for it. She already has another wiggly one, and she's the cutest toothy grin I've ever seen.

Museum Day

Jason was off work Monday for Martin  Luther King day and Facebook told me that admission to the Henry Ford Museum was free that day.  Facebook and I are tight, like that.  

So we piled everyone into the car for some "family fun."  The big ones were not impressed.  In fact Luke groaned for at least an hour and Molly threw a total tizzy (what exactly is a tizzy anyway?) about not being able to spend the night at a friends on Sunday so we could hit the museum.  I reminded her that these years with all the kids at home are fleeting (God willing!) and she could go to the museum.  

Funny thing is once we go there they had a blast.  Luke even asked if we could go back. 

Charlotte thought this car looked like it was smiling at her :)

Wordless Weekend Post

Just a note of accomplishment

This kid:

won her school National Geographic spelling bee Friday, following in her fathers foot steps who was also a school champion!

The Witching Hour SOS

Every day we get to his magic hour, some place between dinner and bedtime when things get a little crazy around here.  Eleanor does NOT HANDLE TIRED WELL.  Charlotte has never, may I repeat never gone to bed before 10 at the earliest and the rest of them?  They avoid doing things that enable me to relax like the plague.  Except Luke.  Luke goes to bed in the middle of the chaos  and sleeps like I wish Eleanor would.  Oh to sleep like a teenage boy. 

So if anyone out there is reading this and has any tips beyond routine, stories and crying like a little girl..... let me know.  Until then I will keep searching the internet for some kind of talisman or ancient voodoo magic. 

Snow Day

It's finally winter here in Michigan.  I can't believe it took until mid January but at least it's finally here and its official - we had a snow day today!  I can't lie, one of my very favorite things about being a stay at home parent are snow days.  There's nothing better on a cold, blustery, cloudy day then to stay warm in your bed, cover up on the couch with your favorite blankets, leave your jammies on all day and relax.  Plus, having two "go to school kids" and a little tribe of homeschoolers it gives us a rare day of just me and all the kids. Today worked out even nicer then normal because we had pre-ordered Hotel Transylvania 2 on Amazon, and as it was release day it was waiting in the mail box for us this afternoon.  

She needed to "take care of her business and pay bills" before she could watch the movie.  

Yes I still have my Christmas lights up, I am working on it okay people?  Okay really I am just mentioning every night at bedtime that someone really needs to take them down and looking suggestively at Jason.  It's a start right?

Yes, he crawled between the couch and the wall to sit in front of the heater and fell asleep. 

Molly felt getting dressed or brushing her hair today were too much effort but apple cider muffins from scratch weren't too much trouble. 

Showing off the locket Charlotte made him.

Bonus baby cuteness.  

Seeking Good

Some Mondays you might need a weekend to recover from the weekend.  This might be one of those Mondays.

Jason worked Saturday, which used to thrill me (overtime, yay!) and now destroys my life  irritates me.  (Salary, boo!)  He never has to work on a quiet Saturday, the kind where he lays on my couch all day napping and then gets a headache when its time to pick up.  Oh, no.  Only on Saturdays when I am already double, or tripled booked will his entire plant fall apart without his presence.  This was naturally one of those days.

Before two p.m. I had dropped Jason off at work, been to a jr high swim meet, a basketball game, taken Charlotte to a birthday tea party and was en route to spring ice show try outs at the rink.   Did I mention that while at the party Eleanor had vomited blueberries all over me?  No?  Well she had.  Good thing there is no real reason to every unzip your coat at the rink.

Let's just say the bath and a hot cocoa never looked so good as they did by the time I made it home in the freezing rain early Saturday evening.  It would be easy to say the whole day was a a mess, because it was, but here's the thing : I have this little scrap of paper tacked up to my bulletin board - and scrawled out on it in my best catholic school handwriting (thank you Sr. Ephraim) is  a quote about seeking good, and doing good and finding good.  And it's one I am really striving to live up to this year.  So in that spirit, it was a good weekend.

Luke is swimming fabulously, despite just returning from nearly four years out of the pool.
There is a part of me, the competitive one who likes to win, who wonders just how good he could be right now had he not taken the time off (he's swimming at just about state qualifier times in all his events as is), but I tell her to shut up and be happy with the place we are at.  He's back in the pool doing something he loves again, he's motivated, he's having fun, and the kid that we were once told would "never have normal social relationships" is, against all odds, popular in his own right.   Popular, and accepted on a team of his peers which is bigger then medals and ribbons.

Ella survived her first illness, 24 hours of fever and then instantly better.  Life is good.

Charlotte got ahead of her music at try outs and had the forethought to start repeating a move until the music caught up to her so she could finish on cue to the music.  She earned herself a solo in the spring show.

Jason and the kids actually cleaned up and did the chores while I was out yesterday, there truly is a first time for everything.

Finally, it's still disgusting but I have discovered that the chocolate glazed donut k-cups are slightly easier to swallow.  That or my caffeine deprived body is falling for the trick of needing it badly enough not to care how it tastes.

Full Steam Ahead. Friday Night Leftovers

I try and remind myself, from time to time, that this busy all the time, it's a season. That there will come a day when I don't have 6,825 places to be.  Because if I didn't I might loose my mind.   Tomorrow, for example, I have a swim meet, a basketball practice, a basketball game, a birthday tea party, and a skating show try out.  In the span of six hours, in four different towns.  Oh yeah -- and Jason is working.  Because if I have more then three places to be, you can bet he has to work.  That's how he worked six Saturdays in a row every fall and spring, just in time for fall or spring soccer for four or five years in a row.  Only to not work Saturdays for almost two years until we signed up for soccer again.  I kid you not, it's like his boss has a personal vendetta against soccer.

In the middle of all the busy, I do like to remember though, the other things that happen during the week:

That we still have our tree up and decorated, with lights on because ... why not? (Also we are busy and it takes time to take down.)

That Luke's biggest fan made signs and the whole family went to cheer him on.  He may not have the most swim savy fan base - but he does have the loudest fans!

That we sometimes spend entire days in our pajamas and bust a move for no good reason.  

That sandwiches make good mustaches, and that we are blessed with awesome free bread delivery, thank you BREADMAN.

That our best friends only have to be real to us sometimes. 

That first pigtails are a momentous occasion.

That art is both educational and fun.  But most importantly messy.

That unadulterated bliss can be found anywhere.

That Molly's algebra teacher took the time to send us a post card in the mail this week to let us know how happy she is with Molly's hard work this semester. 

There are days when bedtime is essential.

It was just one of those days, one of those days when Charlotte woke up cranky, and Teague had to do his narration for history, and Samuel was tired because when I say go to bed at nine what I naturally mean is stay awake until 12 reading by a flashlight.

It was just one of those days when Eleanor decided she was inhuman and required zero sleep ever, where I forget to put a spoon of sugar in the coffee I am still trying to force myself to like, and then took a sip too soon and burned my tongue.

It was just one of those days when my awesome and somewhat expensive hair pin fell out unnoticed at the ice rink, and I was late picking up Molly from early release -- again.

It was just one of those days where one child stood up next to the car and whacked their head on the mirror so hard and cried so long I wondered if we needed the ER.

It was just one of those days where Luke had a swim meet, and his goggles broke.  Where Teague messed with Charlotte,and Charlotte messed with Samuel and the whole time Eleanor tried to climb up my back and down my shirt in the stands, where it was 90 degrees and humid, where I was wearing my north face because my jeans are too tight, and my shirt is too tight and I have a big role of extra skin I don't want noticeable.

It was one of those days where the baby is fine one minute and suddenly has a diaper rash the next.

Thank God it was also one of those days when my littles got all decked out to cheeron their brother.  One  of those days when they made signs.

One of those days when they got all silly and did things like this:

where Molly announced she and her drama llama friend are close and friendly again, where Jason volunteered to go get more diaper cream WITH the baby to give me a half an hour of peace and quiet to drool over Josh Lyman... I mean watch The West Wing on Netflix like the addict I am.

One of those days I know for sure hiding the bag of m&ms in the flour container that has sat empty on the bread box for the last two years.

As Anne Shirley once said, "Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it"  Praise God.

Morning Joe

This morning, at the age of .... well let's just say at my age, I drank my first coffee.  I've gotta say,  WHAT IN THE WORLD IS WRONG WITH ALL YOU PEOPLE?!?!!!!  It was vile, and I had to pretend it was medicine to keep drinking it.  But drink it I did.

By now you're likely wondering what in gosh's sake is wrong with me for even trying, but how's this for truth time?  I've got about a 2 liter a day soda habit.  Pepsi  is my friend, lover, crutch.


I will probably never give up Pepsi completely (I could never quit you dear one!).  I like to think of myself as an "all things in moderation" kinda girl.  I know I need to cut back.. way back.  Because... life.  Life is better then death, so there you beautifully carbonated beverage.  Also, I can't really go off caffeine entirely because I am the mother to sixteen, I mean six. So it is with a lot of sadness that I have come to the horrible conclusion that the only way I will ever cut back large amounts of my beloved is to (gasp) learn to drink coffee.

Because that's what the  grown ups do.  

So here I am, standing around my kitchen, listening to the awesome stillness of my still sleeping house, sipping my coffee,  (chasing it with juice and gagging) and trying to imagine how many years it takes to actually enjoy this swamp water, poison, coffee.

Starting Over

It's been a long time.  And I miss it but I never know how to get started again - and so.. here I am. I guess you can call this the "where we stand post"  -- It's 2016.  I am now the crazy busy mother of six.  We are homeschooling full time -- a kindergartner, a third grader, and a fifth grader.  We have two in public school.  Both in eighth grade.  Jason is working - a lot.  

I guess the best thing to do is just to start up again and not worry about the catch up -- we will figure it out as we go okay?

New Years has come and gone and tomorrow the schedule and busy of "real life" start up again.

 The break has been lovely, two almost three weeks of nothing.  Well nothing but skating, Charlotte skates whether the sun goes on rising and setting or not.  Holidays are nothing.   But she loves it, she dreams about it, she "skates" from the sink to the table, from the bathroom to her bedroom, down aisles in the super market.  Skating is her life, and I ?  I am her driver. :)

We have big plans for the year, and they scare the crap out of me.   If there is one thing I have learned the last eight years it is that life is often hard, and unfair, and that we have bad luck.  But I am choosing to seek joy this year.  So that means believing our big plans will work out.  Believing it will be the hardest year ever at times, that I will be discouraged and afraid, and want to give up.  But believing that it will all be worth it in the end.  Believing that next new year's when I ring in the new year from my "house of dreams" it will be worth it.  Because worthwhile things are supposed to be hard.  It's what  makes them count. So here's too a new year, to new beginnings, and to finding a place to keep me sane again this year .