Ava's 11 Year Pictures

It's that time of year again when I realize that my kid's birthday photo shoots are piling up.  So here is Ava, my beautiful Ava, who is growing up so much and turning into a really great friend.  

I try to use discretion when posting on Facebook but this here is my space and I'll post as many pictures of my kids as I want, without even a drop of shame. 

Isn't it Ironic?

Since my last installment, sharing my new found freedom of nap time on the days Ava has school,  the boys have been on a nap strike and as we speak, Jack is screaming from his crib, while Finn is sucking on his paci in my bed, watching a movie.

I'm sad to see my window of free time not work out and I think the hardest part is knowing that when they're all grown up I am going to miss this.  But even knowing that, it's still hard to "enjoy it".  But whatever, I will insist upon my quiet time (even if Jack screams through it.)

I've had my eyes on this horse property not too far from where we currently live.  I went through it on Saturday's open house.  I could really love it.  I told myself to forget about it though because our house isn't even on the market and the logistics seem impossible.  But while my memory fails me on a daily basis, I just can't seem to forget it.

We have no idea how long we will stay in Colorado.  There are things we absolutely love about it, like the weather (seriously, the winters aren't even that bad), and the mountains, and the endless hiking and camping options. While Dan and I differ on a few things (like trying to sell our house in the next two weeks and move to the aforementioned property) we meet in a great big bear hug around our mutual love of the outdoors. The scare with his job earlier this year really put us on edge though.  We could stay for a while, or we could be gone in a month.  When you work for somebody else, some things are just out of your control. I have a little gypsy in me too, so moving on to the next thing is never far from my heart. With those types of variables, it always makes you question how much effort to move is worth it.

We bought an older Yukon a few weeks ago.  We've been planning on getting something that can tow a camper for a while, but figured it would be down the road a ways.  But I saw this one for sale, mentioned it to Dan, and he blew it off.  It was older and only had 2 wheel drive (which is not ideal for the snow here). But it didn't sell and so I mentioned it again.  And then again.  Finally, he started to warm to the idea.  It was a good price and it seats 9, which has been a long standing dream for us.  So we bought it.  I was convinced that it didn't sell because it was meant to be ours.  He's prefers to think it was because it was only 2 wheel drive.

Now, maybe I should just hope for a similar situation about this house! Maybe it won't sell long enough for Dan to really consider it.  Actually come to think of it, I see a pattern.  He agreed to marry me after all, only after I had asked no less than 2 times. I try to stop myself from just wishing he would just recognize my ideas for the genius they are the first time I bring them up.  But between our marriage and the Yukon, I guess our M.O. has worked out pretty well.

I just really want out of the suburbs.  I want privacy for my kids to have fits on the trampoline and me not be instantly panicked about them disturbing the neighbors.  I don't want to awkwardly dodge the culdesac-beer-drinking-in-the-driveway-parties.  Do I sound like a hermit? A recluse?  I think I am.  Growing up I definitely identified as an extrovert.  But interestingly enough, as I've gotten older, I have shifted to the opposite end of the spectrum. I want to be in control of my social interactions. I need space. I don't want to feel we are on display when we go in the yard.  And I want animals.  And I want to be surrounded by nature.  I want to let my kids out the back door to run and scream and explore and discover.  Someday, it will happen, I know it. I just hope it's not before these paci-sucking, nap-dodgers are all grown up.

A Whole New World!

Nearly two years ago, Jack was born and Ava started homeschool.  It is no coincidence that is when this blog really started to suffer.  And you might be thinking, "Just give it up already! Blogs are so over." But I can't and I won't.

I need to write.  I need it.  My kids love to look through the blog books.  And a few weeks ago, I was looking back through the archives and found a few references to Max being a horrible child.  And that made me SO HAPPY!!!  Wanna know why?  Because Max isn't half bad now and those posts gave me HOPE.  HOPE! Hope that sometime in the not so distant future, the adorable hellions, Jack and Finn, may turn out okay and that Dan and I, if we can just hold on a little longer, may turn out okay as well.

Don't get me wrong.  These kids are our heart and soul.  They simultaneously make me weep with joy and want to stand in front of a bus.  They are what gets me up in the morning and what keeps me awake at night.  They are the most precious commodity I could ever possess.  I love them.  And they are hard.

But the point I'm getting at is, for the first time in 2 years, I now have a potential time for myself, a time I may be able to more regularly write. And that makes me happy too!

Ava floats between the satisfaction of homeschool and her desire to experience middle school and be "normal".  I've tried over and over to explain that normal doesn't exist and that middle school is nothing more than a pulsating conglomeration of all that is gross and wrong with life.  Seriously, no offense to middle schoolers (I'm sure yours are lovely), but middle school is horrible.

We discovered a homeschool charter school that is a great compromise.  She attends on Tues and Thurs.  She has different classes and teachers.  And luckily, its not all "weird homeschoolers" (I'm allowed to say that because we are).  But the kids are generally "normal" and very nice. It is a classical school and operates under what they call a "university model," meaning the classes meet once or twice a week and assignments are to be completed at home and turned in on various due dates.  It's pretty great so far. The only real downside is that it's 25 minutes away.

Finn is going, a little bit reluctantly, to preschool on Monday and Wednesday.  We may add in Fridays once he gets used to it, but right now, 2 days a week is plenty.  He does ok, but every time I pick him up, the teacher (who used to teach Max) wants me to know, just in case he mentions it at home, that he screams, kind of loud, when he is upset.  I would try to act like I have no idea what she's talking about but I'm a horrible liar.  I kind of hate to send him to school this year, though I think it might do him some good, "See Finn, not all 3 year olds scream when they are upset.  Some of them use their words.  You should try that." But the truth is, right now Finn is taking one for the team.  I need Mondays and Wednesdays to work with Ava without absolute hell breaking loose the whole time.  I wondered how Jack would do all on his own on those days, but so far he's doing great.  He empties out the entire pantry (all the shelves he can reach) as well as the silverware drawer but I don't even care because that's so much better compared to what we're used to.

Max is liking school okay.  I'm feeling lucky there are no major issues for him, I'm not sure I'd have the emotion fortitude for it.  Though we've really got to step up our reading game.  He lost a lot of ground over the summer.

Luke is doing well too.  He really hates that he's in 3rd grade instead of 4th.  Had he started kindergarten in Colorado (half day), we never would have held him back, but we can't change it now.  He is in the determination process for the GT program and part of me wants to just go in and ask if they'd move him up a grade instead.  I know it will only continue to be an issue as the kids grow, but while I want him in the program if it's what he really needs, I don't want him in there if it will cause a sore spot between him and his sister.

But with all of these children in their respective places (the three bigs at school and the two littles in their beds) naptimes on Tues and Thurs have brought a new meaning to my life.  I can't even take it! I know there are plenty of things I should be doing, but it has been SO long since I have had even the slightest bit of discretionary time, I'm fighting away the guilt of the dishes and laundry that constantly plague me, and the YW planning I should be doing for my calling, and I am doing whatever the heck I want, and it's this!

Last week was a terribly hard week.  I felt like I might drown, and the thing I kept feeling I wanted and needed, was to just write it all down.  All of it.  Writing things out somehow allows me to process through things so much better.  I have missed it desperately.  And after last week, I was reminded that it is more than just an enjoyment, it's more than record keeping, it is a very necessary outlet to keep me afloat. And now I hope to be able to take advantage of having a little time to do it.

A Day in the Life of Jack

Just minutes after taking the boys to school for their first days of 1st and 3rd grades, I heard what sounded like the rustling of a cereal box from the other room. But I reassured myself that I replaced the Cheerio box on the counter, well out of reach, after I poured a bowl for Finn. 

But the sounds continued, followed by what was, unmistakably, a shower of cereal being poured out onto the floor. 

I ran in to find this.

Don't you remember the No Eating in the Family Room rule, Baby Jack? 

And sure enough, after looking in the kitchen, I had left the box exactly where I thought. But unfortunately, I forgot there was another smaller box, in the pantry, just calling Jack's name. 

Later, he pulled his usual trick and emptied the silverware drawer no less than 3 times today.

And we're proud to announce that Jack is 6 days sober. He hasn't hit the bottle since last Friday. That is a big deal because he basically used his bottle as a paci. It was rare to see him without it dangling out of his mouth at any and all hours of the day. You could say it's been an interesting week :/ I swear though, the amount of whining and crying has been the same. He still asks for, "Baba! Baba!" But we just tell him that "we gave it to the  babies." And for some reason that always makes him smile, at least for a minute before he asks again. 

Everyday he asks for it less, but more and more often I notice him doing this.

Which I have no idea how to remedy because, staying true to his form, while all the other kids took paci's, he never did, always preferring a bottle or now, his hand and he just keeps reminding me that my previous experience means nothing and I still don't really know what I'm doing.

Finny Baby's 3 Year Pictures

I took these pictures months ago but our computer had a nervous breakdown shortly after.  Finally replaced, opening up this file yesterday and seeing them for the first time made my day.

After our little photo shoot, with his donut bribe in hand, I honestly didn't know if I'd gotten anything.  It was a location I had never been to and Finn was being funny about the camera.


 This place on the bridge was a toddler sqaushing waiting to happen because bikers out for their Saturday morning ride would fly around the bend and right across, tires rumbling super loud on the wooden slats. Making Finn (and me!) a little apprehensive.

But we made it through unscathed and even managed to get a smile or two.

And once we made it down by the water, rock throwing was the only thing on his agenda.

When he'd thrown all the rocks and celebrated sufficiently, I asked him for one more picture before we went to get his donut.  He absolutely obliged and gave me my favorite photo of the morning. 

A Wednesday in Summer

Once upon a time, Summer brought a lot of anxiety. I'd worry and plan and stew and plan and cry and plan, all in anticipation of the long hours and long days that stretched before us.

And what usually followed were pretty darn great summers, not at all as bad or boring as I'd imagined.

This year something was different.  I didn't feel the impending doom.  I wasn't driven to make endless plans and stockpile materials for entertaining pinterest projects.  I watched the school days dwindling down and I was like, "Eh.  Whatever. We'll be fine"

And I think this illustrates what happens when you lose control of your life.  I mean, I have control.  Over some things.  Not much though.  And my kids, they cry all the time.  But we also have found this very comfortable place within each other and our home and while it's loud and often chaotic, it has become so much the norm that the only difference about a summer of loud, chaotic days is the season.

I did pull out our trusty chore board, so that all the necessities happen each day and we don't watch the TV or play the wii endlessly. 

But these days may just be regular Wednesdays and Mondays, they are normal.  And there is always some crying and fighting, but they are also full of some really ordinary moments that I have found  myself savoring.  

I know I have written before that I feel that I've reached my max, that I can do no more. And I really mean it this time.  Dan and I are truly at our capacity and many days feel overwhelming and hard. But tell me, what is there not to love about coloring with sidewalk chalk in your goggles and underwear?

We can plan and plan and plan and do and see wonderfully fun things.  But we can also, let it roll and enjoy what comes along. I recently came across this quote and I loved it.

"Joy comes to us in ordinary moments.  We risk missing out on joy when we get too busy chasing down the extraordinary."  -Brene Brown

I'm not sure I've been chasing down the extraordinary.  More like chasing down peace, quiet, calmness, sanity.  But the truth to me is, that just like love, joy often comes when we're not really looking for it, the only catch is, if you're not looking at all, it can be easy to miss. I'm trying to open my eyes and I'm starting to think that maybe instead of that elusive pee in solitude, my joy is right here, loud and in my face, jumping through the sprinkler, reading a book in sunshine, or coloring in his underwear.

One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure (Or Finn Turns 3)

The boy is obsessed with garbage trucks.  He can spot one from a mile away and screams with delight so that all within a mile radius can celebrate with him.

He wants to drive garbage trucks, play with garbage trucks, read about garbage trucks, and wear garbage trucks.

3 years old may prove to be the "terrible" phase that he skimmed over at 2.  Because not only does he scream for garbage trucks, he screams for a lot of things.  He is intense.  And he is emotional.  And he is a scaredy cat. I've started to think that his reality receptors can't keep up with his imagination generators.  Therefore, he is frightened of so many things.  He's also suffering from separation anxiety.  Which means he hasn't gone to nursery for months and basically makes Sunday the very worst day of the week.  (Though Jack just had his first week of nursery and did great, knock on wood) So maybe we'll just have one crying baby in the halls for 2 hours instead of two.

He is super sweet and so cute and animated and that is a very good thing because it saves his tiny bottom daily.

About 2 weeks before his birthday, he asked to sit on the potty and managed to squeeze out the tiniest drops of pee.

 I figured he'd walk away and forget about it, and maybe in 4 months remember and do it again.  But little did I know, he wouldn't forget.  Not only would he not forget, he would remember every time he had to go to the bathroom.  In about a week he was solid.  I worried that our 8 hour drive to Utah would stunt his momentum, especially after he
declined to go in the gas station bathroom.  But nope, he literally held it for 8 hours. And about 2 weeks after that I stopped being lazy (and the diaper tabs actually stop sticking if you open and close them enough) and I decided he should probably wear underwear.  And he hasn't had one accident.

I'm all for waiting until a kid is ready to start potty training.  That has worked well for us.  But apparently I've never had a kid quite this ready.  I literally just helped him with his pants when he told me it was time.

And then we decided it was probably time to ditch the paci (at least during the day).

 This was a very daunting idea (see the part about screaming, above).  But his poor little natural overbite was only getting more pronounced and heaven forbid he learn some self soothing skills.  So we plucked up the courage and went for it.  As is common, the anticipation was almost worse than the actual event.  He had a couple hard days, but through his tears would remind himself,

"We can't use our paci's anymore bekuss they hurts our teefs!"


Now if we can only knock the "ba-ba".