Homesick

I'm back at work after a long break, and the craziest thing just happened to me. I all of a sudden had an overwhelming desire to be back at home, lying on the couch with Gillian running circles around me. I would love to sit on her floor right now too, and read her The Little Engine that Could for the 450th time in 5 days. I'm so homesick right now.

Since I can't walk away from my job, I'll blog instead.

Tomorrow is Bela's birthday. Her 9th. It's hard to write down. 9 years. 10 years ago we unexpectedly found ourselves expecting, and now three kids later she's turning 9. Nine nine nine nine nine.

We're celebrating her big day in a small way for once. Dinner out with family and a few friends. Cake. Laughs.  And as her gift this year, aside from a couple wee little things, we have signed her up for acting classes - theater, actually - at Emerald City Theater. She's slated to begin in a few weeks, working with a group of kids towards a musical ensemble production in May.

You see, Bela likes to perform. Bela likes to be on stage, and Chris and I have made it our goal to find this girl some outlets. Circus performance, chorus, music lessons, theater. And after attending two musicals, two ballets and a play with her this year, after watching her face and her excitement, we knew it had to be theater.

I hope she likes it.

And we're financing this gift partly with the money some of you have donated to our "Project" fund. Thank you so much! We really wouldn't be able to sign her up for so many things if it weren't for your help.

Sigh. Back to work.

Scary Stories

As part of her third grade requirements, Bela has to read 10 non fiction books, 10 fiction chapter books, and 5 books of her choice.

She's read about 15 books so far on her own this year, all of them fiction.

I understand why they want to push non-fiction on the students, to prepare them to read and comprehend all types of texts, and to score better on their tests etc. But I can't help but share her preference for fiction, and am thrilled that she loves to read so much in the first place that I'm not about to put my foot down. In fact aside from buying her a book about identifying birds and a book about the planets and the constellations, I am almost no help in motivating her to fulfill her nonfiction requirements.

Chris and I even recently bought her the collection of scary stories by Alvin Schwartz - Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. This was something that Chris read as a kid and loved.

Bela loves it too, fiction lover that she is. But she can't read it at night. In fact, although she loves to read them, loves to scare herself silly (and just finished the last of the three today) she couldn't even keep the books in her room. She had to put them in a special box that she kept downstairs. Far from her sleeping innocence.

Her routine? Spend a portion of each afternoon reading from the scary books, lock them in this cute pink box, ceremoniously carry them downstairs, and deposit them into our safekeeping.

I think that within the set of three, the stories get scarier by the book. She finished the third one today and was also reading it late yesterday afternoon.

It's not really surprising that between me and Chris this morning I woke to find two little blond girls cuddled up and fast asleep.

Addendum

I posted here last week that Mae's listening grade wasn't so hot, and that she lost her ipad and tv privileges for the next month, so she can "concentrate on listening better."

Bela did not lose her privileges. At least not by my doing.

Last week the girls had their friend sleep over. This was the very day after Mae lost her TV rights. But, you see, they just HAD to watch Coraline. Had to. HAD TO.

Here was the deal, as developed by Bela.  I let Bela watch the movie, and Mae, and their buddy. And Bela gives up all TV and all iPad along with Mae for the next month.

How could I say no?

So, how did our first weekend go without any TV? Without any IPad?

It was so exhausting the girls and I overslept this morning and showed up at school 45 minutes late.

And that was a good thing.

Saturday was Circus class, lunch out, and the Christkindlmarkt in Daley Plaza (they complained almost the entire time between leaving Circus and arriving home after the Market). Then we made gingerbread houses.

Saturday was exhausting, but we all stuck together.

Sunday we were smarter. Sunday we split up. Chris took all three girls plus our neighbor friend sledding by the lake, then out for lunch and Cocoa.

He dropped them off and I stepped in. Next stop? Waveland Bowl for the annual Toys for Tots party our neighbors put on. The girls bowled for two hours. Then it was home for a snowball fight with the neighbor boys.

Not too bad. We'll see how next weekend goes. 

Yawn.

Simplify

I've been too complain-y about my girls lately.

That being well acknowledged, I'll just say that I think they are the coolest, nicest gals around. And I'll also say that, starting after this post (and in the spirit of the holiday) I'll write only positive things for the rest of the month.

Ok. On with it.


I'm coming off a bad month. Things were out of control. Work and responsibility piled up, my two year old behaved like a two year old, my girls were struggling with their listening skills and were not keen on helping out around the house, and my husband was traveling.

Details went hazy. Things slipped through the cracks more than usual - forgotten homework, overlooked deadlines, missed appointments.

And because Chris was traveling and working a lot I was not yoga-ing or running a lot. And one thing I've come to realize in the last several years is that running with my ladies is the only thing standing between me and a giant bottle of prescription anti-depressants. I just feel so angry and sad when I can't run. Period.

So I wasn't at my best.

And then one Sunday morning, in the middle of scooping out piles of chicken poop from the coop, I had... one of those moments.

I remembered that a few years back I heard about Simplicity Parenting written by Mr. Kim John Payne - a former Waldorf teacher and parental guru. And although I didn't (and don't) know all the details of his Simplicity Parenting ideas, I did know that reducing, slowing, and simplifying were big.

So I started throwing things away. Before the book even arrived I started purging our lives of excess.

I started with a 50% reduction in fowl. Yesterday afternoon the girls and I walked Ole Golly, Lavender, and Emma four houses up from us and plopped them in our neighbors large and spacious chicken haven. Their three hens stopped laying a few months ago; I'm sharing the egg love now.

The next afternoon while Gill napped and the girls slaved away in school, I crept up into Bela and Mae's room - a hotbed of domestic disharmony around here. I filled paper shopping bags and moving boxes with books and toys they will never notice went missing. I threw away broken shells and rotted flower petals, candy wrappers and filthy bits and pieces.

And I didn't stop there. I thinned out our own book collection, recycled magazines, trimmed the belongings in the basement.

When I come across something on the floor that I consider to be non-essential to our everyday lives, I chuck it in the trash. 


The theory here is that more does NOT equal better. More just equals more. And more means more mess. And more mess means crazy angry frustrated Mom.

And it's not just about the stuff in our house. It's about the stuff in our lives, and the way we choose to spend our time. Chicago Park District opened up it's Winter Program enrollment recently, and right before I hit the button to register Bela for another clay class, I shut the computer. No. No more! She's in chorus. She's in Girls in the Game. She takes circus classes. It's enough.

The funniest part of all of this is that I still haven't read the silly book. It's just sitting on my shelf next to the other parenting books I never read. Cluttering. But I'm glad its there. Like a reminder to me that filling our lives with extra activities and our home with extra stuff just makes life more difficult to manage for me.

I also know that this little book and the whole idea of Simplicity Parenting isn't going to solve what I consider to be one of my biggest difficulties: I long for a simple, well-organized life. But I'm also always looking for the next thing. The next class. The next hobby. For the girls and for me.

For now, though? I need to step back. Take care of the things at hand (like these mittens I need to finish knitting) and stop spending so much time managing the mess.

Listening Grade

The ladies have been less than stellar listeners lately. 

They have reached a stage in their development where they can completely tune out 99.9% of what I say to them. The only thing they seem to hear clearly is Ipad, TV, and maybe Cookie.

Their teachers agree.

Back in November when I went to Parent Teacher conferences, aside from the glowing praise about Bela's reading level and Mae's artistic and writing abilities, they admitted that they had to give them lower grades in Listening because, well, they were a little chatty. They were tuning their teachers out.

Now, although I'm the kind of lady who likes Good Grades, we're not talking Bad Grades here. They both were handed Bs in Listening.

But as I'm also wont to do, I used another adult's opinion to drive home a point I was trying to make at home (because we all know that they care waaaaaaaay more about what Mrs. S and Ms. L think about them than what their old boring Mom does).

"Your teachers agree with me that you're not doing a great job listening lately, and they have lowered your Listening grades."

I'm pretty sure I told them that if they didn't raise their grades to As in listening "at school and at home" (whatever the hell I meant by that) they would never get into a decent Chicago High School, and, therefore, would never go to college.

I also told them that their Saturday Ipad and Tv time was all dependent upon the A.

Oh the A.

Progress reports came home this week.

Mae's teacher sent hers home yesterday. Not only did her Listening Grade not improve, it got WORSE. Along with her Math grade! Apparently, she's doing most of her talking and not listening during math stations.

I broke the news to her. She had to go the next 4 Saturdays without TV or Ipad.

Bela's progress report hadn't come home yet, but knowing Bela as we all know Bela, (and Mae Mae knows Bela) she didn't get upset. She assumed that she and Bela would be in the same boat, living the bleak and Ipad-less 4 weeks together, in solidarity. She shed not a tear. She stamped not a foot.

I couldn't believe my good fortune. I hinged the screen time on the grade, but it's no secret around here that if I had my druthers I would toss the ipad in the toilet and cancel the cable package.  They cause way more headaches than they solve. So I talked it all up like this had been her doing, and then I patted myself on my back for getting exactly what I wanted.

Until Bela brought her progress report home today.

She got all As.

Mae is devastated. 

I'm still going to cancel cable. Well, as soon as the season finale of Homeland airs this weekend. And then, seriously, it's gone.

Well, at least until Game of Thrones comes back on in the Fall.

What? What was that you said?

Sigh.

And just like that...

...she turns 2.

I love you more than I could ever ever say.

Happy Birthday to my favorite two-year-old.

Thanksgiving - in notes and photos

 

-- rockets in the fields beyond Grandma's house...

-- secret plans for a "Cousin Party" late at night, while the grown-ups are sleeping:

1. Sneak in grandmas frige.

2. Pillow fight.

3. Check on all the doors so we could see if all of them closed there doors.

4. Look out the window.

5. I spy.

6. No music (it will cause the grow ups to wake up!)

7. Barbies.

8. Jewls. 

9. Draw pictures

10. Look out the window.

11. Wish on the first star.

12. Paper air planes

13. Clean the house.

14. Set up breakfist

15. Take a two minute nap two reasons: 1. it might almost be morning 2. not waste our energey.

16. After two minutes, look out the window.

17. Dress in real cloths.

18. take a ten minute nap.

 and that's all.

-- the meal comes together with the help of many. And bacon fat.

 

-- after many days together, the cousins begin to fight. And to make up.

From Mae to Ruby

-- and then there's Gill.