Finn, Jack and the Tale of his First Food

 I was emptying my camera from today's escapade and saw these pictures of Finn that I had completely forgotten about.  I love them because they are just so him.

My mismatched, ragamuffin, blanket dragging,

doe eyed lover baby.

 And I can't forget Jack.

Loving to suck and chew on his fingers,  

Wiggly like a worm, and he even rolled over for the first time yesterday, back to tummy.   That's a miracle in and of itself because he hardly sees the floor and doesn't even know what "tummy time" is.  I'm not neglectful, it's the opposite actually.  Leaving him on the floor is leaving his life in the hands of his big baby brother and the trampling feet of everyone else.  But not only has he survived, in his limited floor play he has apparently developed some muscles.

I love him so much my heart feels like it weighs 300 pounds. 

 I've contemplated never buying anything larger than size two diapers and forcing him to stay in 3 month sleepers indefinitely, even if his toes poke holes and hang out.

It is killing me to think of him growing up.  I cannot believe this is my last baby. 

But always the voice of reason, Dan has reminded me that the end had to come sometime, I can't have babies for ever.

And the only thing perpetual size two diapers are going to do is make a big mess.  

But really, is it even humanly possible to blame me?  He is my sweetest little bunny. 

And today, he moved one step closer to college, marriage, a job, and sleeping in his own room.  

I can't even handle it.    

Today was rice cereal day.

Oh, hey, Mom.   Yeah, I'm just chewing on my fingers but I see you've got me in my bumbo up here on the table. 

You need something?

Wait, what? You want me to "try" something? 

  

You know I'm always up for an adventure! Bring it on!

Alright, here we go! This is okay...this is....

...this is not exactly great...

Yeah, this is not actually very good.

Like at all.  What were you thinking?!

I'm a little put out with you , Mom, but oh, here's my big brother!

He can make me forget about anything. Including nasty "food".

All he has to do is look at me, and smile and give me a hug,

And all is well in the world again.

Just don't ask me to "try" anything else for a while.

From the Trenches

I feel like I have to type a hundred miles an hour if I'm going to make any headway on this post, so I'll just apologize now for all the typos.  Right now, both babies are asleep and one can never know how long that will last.  We scrapped school completely today after our poor attitudes made us ineffective learners and teachers.  I have never been so tired in my life.

I counted it up yesterday, someone in our house has been sick for the last 46 days.  That is a long time, people.  Luke started it on Christmas Eve and since then it has spread and morphed through the family.  It has involved 5 ear infections, croup, RSV, and a host of other undiagnosed maladies.

Jack's colic seemed to calm right around the beginning of December, he started sleeping from about 9pm-4am, and it was like stumbling into an oasis after dragging myself through the desert for 3 months. We went to Utah for Christmas which was wonderful but he hasn't slept through the night since. And most nights it's not like he just wakes up once or twice to eat, it's more like he wakes up to eat and then never really gets to back to sleep and he fusses most of the night.  My milk is on it's way out so I've got him weaned to a bottle except at night because I'd rather be the world's largest pacifier than walk up and down the stairs making bottles multiple times a night.  I think one of the reasons he's so hungry at night has been because he's been sick. A cold that turned into RSV.  I hate RSV.  Besides making him sound like he needed to lay off the cigarette's, it caused him to either lose his appetite or be unable to eat more than an ounce or two at a time, I can't be sure which.  Anyways, I wasn't about to let my poor sick poppit cry it out/be hungry/go comfortless.  So I did what I had to do and continued to break all of my baby sleep rules.  I try to move my babies to their own room between 3-4 months.  Jack is 4.5 months and well, here we are.

The RSV thing was just stupid.  But as far as RSV goes I consider ourselves really lucky.  Jack responded very well to breathing treatments (which apparently only a small percentage of cases do) which meant that when his oxygen levels were concerningly low, after a treatment with the nebulizer they'd jump back up to the normal range.  This fact kept us out of the hospital, thank goodness.

There was one terrible 4am run to the emergency room after Jack choked on his phlegm (isn't that a lovely word? Phlegm?) Anyway, he started coughing and then got completely choked up.  I grabbed him up out of his bed and started running around my bedroom, yelling Dan's name, and banging on his back.  After what felt like an eternity, he threw up.  After that his breathing was really labored so I ran him down to the nebulizer. While the nebulizer fog swirled around his face and he struggled to breathe, we contemplated what we should do.  Call 911?  That seemed overboard, unless it wasn't, know what I mean?  I was worried about putting him in the backseat alone to drive to the hospital, unable to see him, but someone needed to stay home with the other kids.  As the minutes passed and his breathing evened out, we felt a release of urgency and decided a regular, one parent trek to the hospital ought to cover it.  It turns out that breathing treatment was all he needed and they didn't do anything more at the hospital other than watch his oxygen saturation for a few hours and discover a double ear infection.

He's finally coming out of it, two weeks later.  Meanwhile, the rest of the crew has been battling a similar upper respiratory virus, though Finn's taken it the worst. And almost as if they're in cahoots, ever since Jack was born, Finn is waking up, on average 2 times a night, more when he's sick.  That has, unfortunately for him, become Dan's very tired problem.

 But today we were fever free and last night Jack only woke up once.  Hope is on the horizon!

He may have failed Sleeping 101 miserably, but he's already earning college credit in his Sweetsie Pie Handsome Punkin Face AP class. He's remarkably advanced.

Dan sent me and Jack to Chicago for a quick weekend visit with my parents for my birthday, which was so thoughtful of him.

And while I was there, he called me to mention one other surprise--tickets to Garth Brooks.

 I feel like I can never pay him back for how good he is to me.


 I'm 33 now.

Don't be jealous, I know I'm a complete babe.  I think this was probably day 5 without a shower.

And it's funny how the older I get, the more my perspective changes on what's "old."  The years keep passing but I'm not sure I'll ever be old.

This is my third writing installment on this same post.  I never have more than 15 minutes to rub together, but right now, it's 7:15 pm, Finn is in bed, Jack is taking a "nap," and Dan has the big kids at the movie theater to see Paddington.  That is the reward for their uncharacteristic, shocking, completely self imposed restriction on treats for the month of January.


As surprised as I was, I was happy to join the challenge, and Dan came along out of duty.  But they did it! Luke originally wanted to go the entire year with no sweets for $200.  But by week 2 of the month's challenge, after building up quite a stash,

 he retracted his statement, citing it wasn't worth it.  He has a funny view of money that's for sure...

"If I had 100 dollars I would buy 100 ziploc bags because I can carry lots and lots of stuff in the ziploc bags."


He's been reading and writing up a storm.  His mind likes to be working all the time.

  He doesn't get much out of TV though he's recently taken an interest in the show "How It's Made" on the Science channel that I started recording for homeschool.

Max is still Max.  He is super stubborn and super sweet.  He is finally overcoming his fear of being alone on any floor of the house, which is good because his requests for me to come with him where ever he went were really unrealistic.

 I sometimes think he truly believes that my one sole purpose on this earth is to make him food.  His requests for food are without beginning or end.   Still, the love that emanates from this kid is overwhelming in a really, really good way.

Finn is kind of a nightmare.  A really cute nightmare.

Terrible Two's hit early and I imagine they'll stay late. So impolite.  His vocabulary has really blossomed but unfortunately it includes a high percentage of unintelligible words. He knows what he means, but if you don't? Watch out.  Scream central.

 I've come up with a theory.  It goes like this: At any given moment, there is a 97.65% chance that someone in the Colton household is crying and/or screaming.

If you want to be a part of something fantastic, you should really stop by and do some yoga with us. Finn doing yoga is on the list of Top Best Things.

At even the mention of the word yoga, he is on the ground, on his tummy, in the bow pose.

I finally turned his car seat around.  He was funny because he has actually preferred to ride backwards all this time.  I think it's because he had a front row seat to the big boys' antics in the back.  But he's been fine with the switch and I like looking in the rear view mirror and seeing his sweet little face.

I attempted to cut his hair, which spurred a tantrum of epic proportions, but once you've started something like that, the only real way out, is through it.  And that's how Finn got the worst haircut ever.  I pray every night that his hair will grow back quickly.

But he is still so cute.  The way he says "yes", the way he whispers "i love you", the way he calls his paci a "pajee", the way he pats, the way he snuggles, the way runs to keep up with the big kids, the way he says his little prayers. Just everything about him keeps our hearts soft even though he screams a lot.

Homeschool marches on.  Ava is doing great.

 We have some not-so-good days now and then, but most of them are good.  And even at that, the bad ones are about a 1000 times more successful than any day in public school was for her.  She has learned so much in such a short time.  And I have really appreciated her responsibility lately, as we had so many doctor's appointments and kinks in our schedule.  I could leave her the day's assignments and when I returned, she had them completed along with all of her chores.  Of course we both enjoy working together more, but it was nice that we didn't really lose much momentum even through all of the sickness.

Maybe it's just me, but I really think I can see a difference in her confidence and certainly the stress level in our house and in her heart have decreased immensely.

A couple of weeks ago, she passed out invitations to a party in her room that she had planned all on her own, complete with decorations and a ton of games.  The boys had the best time.  I loved watching and playing Freeze dance and musical chairs and especially watching Ava make sure each boy was happy and having fun. It was one of those times that really felt magical being a mom.  They don't come around all that often (that's what makes them magical) but I sure do appreciate them.  And the fact that I now know there is always something to celebrate, including January 31st.

One other Magic Mom Moment happened recently.  The whole family was driving home one night, when we stopped at the store for Dan to run in and grab a couple of things.  While the rest of us waited in the car, Max began to explain that he was having ugly, scary thoughts in his mind and he couldn't get them out.  I asked what they were but he said he couldn't say because they were too scary. He started to cry and went on to explain that he's been having really bad dreams too and he was scared to sleep.  Bad dreams are hard because there really isn't much you can do about them.  We started talking about some ways he could think about happier things (sing a song, say a prayer, count).  Ava offered up ideas from her own experiences and he seemed to calm down.  I promised we could talk about it more at bedtime and that I would snuggle him a little extra before I said goodnight.

So later that night, when I finally got in the boys' room, ready to sing my traditional song to each one (Luke-I Am a Child of God, Max-Hush My Dear One) I discovered that Ava had already given Max one of her stuffed animals to sleep with.  We talked about how sweet that was of her.  And then I said I would say a special prayer for him.  Right then Luke pipes up and says, "I already said a prayer for Max.  When we were in the car and he was scared, I felt so sad for him. So I said a prayer that he would feel better and not have bad dreams either."  My mommy heart was bursting. These were not big things.  But they were small things done with great love. I pointed out to Max, and we both agreed with happy tears in our eyes, how lucky he was to have such good brothers and sister.


Love is a battlefield and Dan and I are fighting! Even though the days are long, and sometimes hard, we're gonna win this thing.

  And when we do, I am going to take a really long nap.

Homeschool on the Range

There was a point in my history, not that long ago, if you had asked me if I would ever homeschool my children, the  answer would have been a definitive,

"No way."

I needed less time with my kids, not more.  I lived for nap time.  I lived for preschool.  Now, don't get me wrong, I loved my kids, it's just...they were hard. It still is hard, I am still worn out. The mental and physical and emotional stress I faced (and still do) led me to believe that my only reprieve would come through "a break".  That's one of the hard things about motherhood, though.  You're never NOT the mom.  Even if you get that break, take that vacation, relish that nap (which are all beautiful, wonderful things to do), I still find it hard that even if my body isn't working on the care and keeping of my children for a time, my mind and my heart never let it go.  Meanwhile, during the throes of it, when my penchant for wanting to run away was at its height, my mother always preached the same motto,

"Invest! Engage!"

Instead of seeking an out, she wanted me to dig in deeper, look for ways to spend more time, give more attention.  It was totally counter-intuitive to me at the time, but when I have managed to heed the advice, the results have been astounding.  Every time it has brought happier kids and a happier me.

It hasn't actually become a natural inclination for me, but I believe it has played a role in where I am today, two weeks into homeschooling Ava.

People ask me how it's going and unless we both have an hour, all I can say is, "It's going great!"

But great doesn't even begin to describe the thoughts and feelings I have about what has happened the last two weeks.

I think it's best to start with how we arrived here.  How did I go from, "No way!"  to "No doubt!"? I've asked myself that a lot.  And I've come up with a two layer answer: gradually and God.

The way Ava's mind works has been notably different since the beginning.  And school has never been a happy place for her.  She doesn't have trouble with friends or following directions, or behavior, but recognizing those differences in herself and feeling the pressure to conform to the standard methods of teaching and learning has resulted in a glaring lack of self esteem and confidence.  Already tending to anxiety, like her dear mother, school magnified her worries and concerns.

And so gradually over the years, after many days working and re-teaching and discovering the nooks and crannies of her thought process, the seedling of an idea was born in the back of my mind.  Why am I sending her to school for 7 hours a day, only to bring her home and teach her what she should have learned? This is so inefficient.

As the years passed, different academic areas of concern came in and out of focus, but eventually settled on the big, bad ugly math.  And as the years passed my thoughts about homeschooling, went from Maybe... to Someday... to When I homeschool.

 Since moving to Colorado and becoming subject to the Common Core version of math, our quality of life took a nose dive.  And I'm not exaggerating.  This dissatisfaction with school touched nearly every facet of our life.  Common Core isn't actually anything more than a set of standards (some of which are stupid) but the issue we were having was the way the math was being taught.  And the many ways students were required to solve the same types of problems.  I think the theory of it is great, but the reality of it, here in my house, with my child, was a nightmare.  Instead of her not understanding four ways to do division, we needed to find one way she did.  And go with it.  But that's not what they do. So instead of Ava's needs driving her education, Ava's needs were put in the back seat while she was driven all over town by someone elses needs, not understanding, very frustrated, and feeling horrible about herself.  Homework was taking hours and brought with it tears, 97% of the time.

Realizing that Ava is not going to thrive in a public school setting, at least for the time being, sealed the deal.  And just as I had been having these progressive thoughts, so had she.

And amazingly enough, so had Dan.

So by the time it seemed that homeschool was our best option, we were all miraculously on board.

Ava was so on board, in fact, she was begging from the first week of fourth grade.  I kept telling her to hang on, I needed to have Jack and get through the first few months of sleeplessness.  January seemed so far away but it has been ideal.

Leading up to January I had a lot of concerns about just how in the world I was going to do this. Especially with 3 boys still at home. Especially with a student whose learning style was not typical. Especially with a child who was so miserable. I never envisioned it being easy (and it's not!) but there was an underlying sense of comfort because I knew that it was the right thing for us at this time.  I knew it.  If God tells you to do something, it doesn't mean it's going to be easy but it does mean that it's going to work. And that's what I kept telling myself.  And I think I could even argue that the word "work" might mean different things to Him and I.  Even if I give it a go and my expectations are not fulfilled and I want to think "It's not working!" I imagine that His purposes are still being fulfilled whether I recognize them as my version of successful or not.  So what I'm trying to say is, Just Do What God Tells You To Do.

Lucky for us, two weeks in, His purposes and my expectations seem to be lining up perfectly.

In my patriarchal blessing (which for you non-Mormon folk is a blessing given by a Patriarch, a man with the Priesthood, called and set apart for this special job.  The blessing is usually received in adolescence or young adulthood.  It provides glimpses into your life and future, promises of blessings if you remain faithful, and can be a great guide as you makes decisions.) there are multiple references to my ability to teach and how I will teach spiritual things and worldly things.  Now, in my time at church, through my callings there, I have had ample opportunities to teach.  I have come to love teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ.  But I have always wondered, how and where will I teach worldly things?

When the decision to homeschool became final, that phrase from my blessing came straight to my mind.

Over the last 4 months, I have devoted a lot mental real estate to homeschool planning.  I have not, however, had a lot of time to sit and research and read.  There are so many methods and available  resources these days, it's overwhelming.  I couldn't get overwhelmed though, because I literally did not have the time to get into a hole.  I could't read all the pinterest pins, blogs, curriculum reviews.  I just couldn't do it. Yes, of course when I could, I stole minutes here and there to sit at the computer and try to research and get ideas.  But mostly, I cooked dinner and I thought. I folded laundry and I thought.  I built lego towers and I thought.  I fed the baby in the middle of the night and I thought.

And then I wrote down the ideas in my notebook, where all my life's details are corralled. Eventually, I had quite a map for myself.  I narrowed down the curriculum choices, I hashed out a general schedule, and I made sure there was room in our days, along with the three R's, for the avenues of education that are equally as important but often neglected.

Ideas came to me about how to teach things and in what order to teach things.  And I know those ideas were not really mine. God started me on this journey, He wasn't walking away now. My remedy for anxiety is order.  Don't mistake that for, "my house is always clean."  It's not.  But when something stressful is going on, I need routine and order.  The house isn't always clean, but it is regularly clean, does that make sense? I need homeschool to be an organized endeavor.

The wonderful thing about having Ava as a student is getting to see what her teachers have said about her all along; she is a very hard worker, she is a model student.  I admit, I sometimes questioned those comments, even though they have remained consistent over the years.  I have realized that by the time Ava got home in the afternoon, she was exhausted.  I believe she works at least twice as hard to maintain status quo as the rest of us.  So by 4:00pm when it was my turn, that hard working, quiet and pleasant child, was a hot mess.  And I was the lucky one to fight through the hours until bedtime making sure she was ticking the boxes lined up for her courtesy of her public education, even though there was absolutely no learning taking place during those hours because the fatigue was too great.

These past two weeks, I have thoroughly, genuinely, absolutely enjoyed this hard working, motivated, kind child everyone told me about.  It's like I am seeing her how she is meant to be seen. You may be thinking that this was the child I saw on the weekends, when school was not an issue.  It was not.  School left such an ugly residue on our days that it couldn't simply be washed off with a Saturday or Sunday. I am loving her in a whole new way and appreciating things I never have before, and as you can imagine, it is a wonderful way to feel.

But these days. These days have been eye opening.  Again, they have not been easy.  They have been quite difficult actually. I'm not a person who enjoys being busy, so the days of my usual design are slow and steady. These days are non-stop. From the moment the first child wakes until that last one sleeps, there are only very rare moments I am not engaged in something with at least three more things awaiting my attention.  And maybe that's how it is all the time for all you other moms out there.  But for me, between my needful tasks, I was used to taking in an episode of Max and Ruby, reading Facebook here and there, or occasionally hiding in the bathroom.  Last Thursday I realized as I was getting ready for bed, that I had not gone to the bathroom since I woke up.

I'm hoping that as we all adjust to the new dynamic, things will ease up a bit.  I don't anticipate they will ever be the same, and I guess that's okay.

Since we moved last year, I'd gotten into a rut.  My socialization slowed, my stresses increased, and I'd gotten accustomed to waiting out the days.  These past two weeks have brought feelings of happy satisfaction that I'm not sure have a rival.  Certainly, being a stay at home mom can be completely fulfilling.  I do not think it universally necessary that a mother seek other avenues or endeavors to find fulfillment. My feelings of satisfaction are not a result of finding a place to use my skills and discovering my purpose. I have always had a place for my skills and I have always had a purpose. Instead, I believe this feeling of great fulfillment is because my efforts are intersecting and aligning with God's will for me. That line from my patriarchal blessing is playing out. I hope that makes sense to someone besides myself. It's the difference between feeling great because you're doing something awesome and feeling accomplished versus feeling great because you know that what you're doing is fulfilling your purpose, like you're getting up and performing a song that was written just for you. I am doing what I was meant to do at this time and I know it and God knows it and it feels amazing (even though there is always somebody crying and I never get everything done).


Mostly for my own reference, here are a couple of the things we are doing aside from our standard curriculum (which right now includes Language Arts with writing, grammar, spelling, etc. and math and history.  I haven't fit science in yet but I'm not stressing about it).

First is a scripture album.  Ava thought she was going to hate this, but has said it is actually her favorite part.

Each week I assign a Scripture Mastery verse. We're starting with those in the Book of Mormon.  Every day she finds the scripture on her own, she reads it aloud and we discuss it.  These conversations have been really neat. And then depending on the day, she writes it on an index card or draws a picture that makes her think of what it's about, and adds them to her "scripture album" (a photo album).

She is taking a weekly art class and really loving it. Here is her first completed project.

She has to do 30 minutes of exercise each day and she usually does Cosmic Kids Yoga on Youtube, but I have a number of other videos and the treadmill she can choose from.


She has her daily chores and now has the time and energy to complete them.


And lastly, is what we call Popsicle Stick.  It's a collection of  activities or assignments written on jumbo craft sticks and kept in a clean soup can.  She chooses one to complete each day and cannot repeat a stick until they've all been done.  So these activities occur about once every two weeks.

 I'm not pro-homeschool and I'm not anti-public school.  I truly believe that the adoption of one or the other should depend entirely on the student and the circumstances surrounding them.  I do believe that eventually I will be teaching all of the kids at home, whether for the entirety of school or not, time will tell. I see a lot of value in public school.  There are so many important lessons to learn there: the structure and routine, the settling of disagreements, the team work, the hard to get along with teachers, the following of directions, the deadlines, the doing of things whether you want to or not.  My aim will be to provide these same opportunities at home.  In my mind, I would like to bring the kids home one by one around 3rd grade so that they do get to experience some of these things.  I feel that I can meet their individual needs more effectively, I can teach values more effectively, and I can better prepare them for life here at home.  And if I am going to make the effort to do this, I want to get all the benefits due to me.  If we can take a trip during the school year for the sake of learning and fun because we homeschool, then I don't want to have to answer to the district for the one child still in public school.  It just makes sense to me that I would have them all at home.

That is not to say that if at some point it appears that one or all of the kids would be better served in public school, that I wouldn't put them back in.  I've told Ava that if/when she feels like she wants to go back, that is always an option for discussion.

I feel like if Heavenly Father led us to this point, if I let Him, He will continue to lead us through the ups and the downs, right on through school, be it public or at home.

But at this moment, I know we're doing the right thing.