Oh, the Places You've Been

Taken from The Common Room, but I saw it at the Treehouse first.

bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut (?) / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland ? / Massachusetts / Michigan* / Minnesota* / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana (?) / Nebraska / Nevada (?) / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania (?) / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont (?) / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming (?) / Washington D.C /

The asterisks represent transfers at the Detroit and Minneapolis airports, as I don't recall ever being elsewhere in the state. The question marks are states I think I've passed through on road trips but don't positively remember for sure.

I think I need to pay more attention. :-P

Five Things I Like About Motherhood

Sara tagged me for this and at first I thought she'd already covered the best stuff in her post. But I think I have my own particular things.

1. Reading out loud. What better excuse than having kids to re-read all your childhood favorites and discover new treasures?

2. Siblings playing together. I am so grateful I could have more than one child; I really wouldn't have the first notion of what to do with only one. Even though I ask myself, "What WAS I thinking to have four so close together?" almost every day, I love that they'll be able to grow up together, that we have such a great mix of boys and girls and introverts and extroverts to keep each other balanced and make a strong team and have a lot of fun.

3. Watching them figure things out. I love watching the light bulbs go off, and I get a curious pleasure out of it when I wasn't involved at all and it wasn't one of those things that you can pull up in maternal bragging competitions. Last week D1 was sitting on the porch eating lunch and suddenly pointed to the neighbors' house and said, "Hey! We are their neighbors!"

4. The way babies giggle when you tickle them. There's nothing like getting two of them going at once.

5. Naptime. Is it ok to have that on the top five? It's such a wonderful time of day . . .


I tag: Wendy, Carrie, Melissa, Songbirdy, Mary

Duckling Moments

D1 and D2 draw no distinction between poems, songs, and stories told aloud, which is why I can get requested to "sing that one about the three pigs again." It's also why I got serenaded with a rather operatic (and nearly word-perfect) duet rendition of Madeline all through breakfast prep yesterday.

*******************
Yesterday I took D3 and D4 out to play in the grass. D3 tested what happens to cute knit pastel shirts when you drag them across asphalt. D4 alternated between crawling over to the neighbor's yard and trying to climb onto her (parked, off) lawnmower, and crawling over to the porch and trying to crawl up the steps. I tried to figure out whether it was more urgent at any given moment: to pull the tiny rock out of D3's mouth or go chase down D4. It's going to be a busy summer.

********************
I spotted some fifth-grade girls watching younger brothers at the park a couple of weeks ago and worked up my nerve to ask them if they'd like an after-school job over here. So far it's working out pretty well; they come over twice a week and feed the babies their supper and play with the big kids outside while I try to get caught up on basic housework. The kids are just wild about them, instead of being just wild at that hour of the day. Definitely an improvement.

*********************
I really, truly am getting my garden in. And things are coming up! Maybe we'll even get to eat something out of it. Also I got some flowers started and transplanted to fill out the front flower bed, which has a lovely array of spring bulbs but tends to get pretty ragged the rest of the year. If I can just have a few minutes here and there between rescuing babies to pull weeds and water, it should be great.

Easter Pictures

Definitely an improvement over last year: everyone was healthy, dressed in clothes that had actually been ironed, and the house was clean!
(Of course, perhaps the prospect of resurrection is more exciting when life is the pits, but then there's no harm in celebrating when we can.)
Now to recuperate.

Random Online Behaviors That Irritate Me

Replying to questions with the helpful information that they have nothing to add to the discussion because they don't do anything of the sort but they just can't resist the opportunity to blather on and on about something not really related at all because otherwise how would they get to hear the music of their own keyboards clicking?

Putting half of the reply in the signature (says QOC, who is mystified why people think it's different from just coming out and SAYing whatever it is they want to say, only with far less awkward sentence structure.)

Responding to a request for information on X product or program with a straight thumbs-up or thumbs-down reply rather than any information on why you liked or disliked it--what use is a vague survey of reactions? Perhaps the thing that drove you crazy is exactly what I'm looking for, but I'll never know if you don't give some detail.

An Equation

2 pairs of overalls x 10 snaps x 6 diaper changes a day = 1 mother who will be very glad when t-shirt weather is here to stay.

To See the Cherry Hung with Snow

It's not just a poetic metaphor.

Sigh.

At least I picked most of the tulips yesterday.

Seven Quick Takes Friday

1. Thanks to a very generous person, the babies' early bedtime, the big kids being at Grandma's and Cicero keeping an ear out for the babies, DOB and I actually got out of the house last night! And had a conversation that didn't even bring up the question of, "Why can't we get to bed any sooner?"

2. I think D4 has a complex about being the youngest. Why else would he have the most teeth the soonest, be the earliest crawler, and on track to be the earliest walker? He'll show everyone that those ninety minutes mean nothing!

3. D3 has this weird habit of pulling her own hair while she's nursing. At least it's not D4's hair. He bit her toe while she was nursing this morning. It's never dull.

4. I love rainy days when the big kids are at Grandma's. I have no guilt about not bothering to take the babies outside and can just get caught up on housework and read for once.

5. I love sunny days when the big kids are here. They're so much bigger and noisier and wilder and more full of ideas than they were even a year ago, and they have so much fun outside together. D1 usually has hauled off a stock of kitchen implements and is making some concoction with mud and water and leaves. They race bikes down the minuscule slope in the driveway, or send the wagon spinning wildly out of control, or just stomp in the mud and then complain when I have to scrub their feet. Catching up on the dishes is a lot more fun when they're playing in the back yard.

6. I'm worried that my raised beds are not raised high enough. It's still awfully soggy out there, and the only place to stand to work on the beds is in three inches of muddy water. Of course, it's still very early for planting. Maybe I will still manage to grow something this summer. Or maybe I will just spend all summer pulling dirt out of the babies' mouths.

7. While out last night I saw shoes that looked like I might want them. I didn't actually buy any, of course. But I am getting tired of always wearing ugly (or at best, plain and clunky) shoes, yet unwilling to give up comfort for any consideration. The thought that there might be shoes out there that are cute yet comfortable gives me hope. Unfortunately I can't remember the brand name, but hopefully the store will still be in the same place when I make up my mind that I'm really ready to buy shoes.

More Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Eating Books

I read a book that annoyed me. This is always more fun to write about than books that pleased me, so take it for granted that I have read many books over the past few months that were perfectly enjoyable.

The annoying book looked promising. It was called Deconstructing Penguins and it chronicled a parent-child book club started to help children get more out of their reading. Now as far as I'm concerned, the pinnacle of life is sharing books with my children, so I expected to find it delightful.

What they did, in this book club, was tell the children (starting with second graders) that every book is a mystery in which a message is encoded, and that to discover the mystery you must analyze the book to determine the protagonist and the antagonist and the chief crisis of the plot so that you can pull out the message of the book, which we then can summarize and discuss.

Grrrr.

Of course books have messages, like food has vitamins. But expecting children to benefit more from the message by learning to deconstruct the book and tease the message out into a one-sentence summary is like expecting them to get more nourishment from their food by taking it into the lab and determining the exact molecular content.

You get nourishment from food by eating it. You get nourishment from books by reading them and letting the story soak into you. If the Atwaters had really thought children would best learn to hold on to their dreams by being told point blank, "It's good to hold on to your dreams," they wouldn't have bothered to write a whole book about a painter who wants to be an Antarctic explorer.

Children certainly do sometimes gallop through books without stopping to be more than dimly aware of what's going on. There's a time and a place for that and a type of books that properly deserve it. And there is a time and a place (much later than second grade) for learning how a story goes together and debating what the author really means by it.

But the antidote for books that are worthy of greater attention is much simpler: just slow down. Read a chapter. Put it away for a few days. Teach everyone that reading ahead is a shameful and despicable act. Give the story time to digest.

April Fools

The ducklings are quite excited by a whole day devoted to saying silly things with impunity. D1 also entered into the spirit of things by putting on her clothes inside out and backwards, but D2 decided he would rather dress right side out and frontwards--which, since he usually gets at least one garment inside out or backwards, comes out to the same thing, I suppose.

Out and About

I went out to the thrift store on Saturday, a big trip in my little world. As it happened I arrived three minutes before opening and was astonished to find a crowd of twenty--mostly elderly ladies--standing outside the door, swapping addresses of their favorite thrift stores. Quite the happening place.

I found some new shirts for DOB, and confirmed my suspicion that there is no such thing as a decent second-hand white dress shirt. White dress shirts lurk in men's closets until they disintegrate entirely, apparently. Blue is readily available, though. I even scored two hand-tailored ones which I hope fit well.

Then pulling out I saw rows of tagged trees across the road and realized I was right across the street from a nursery. So I stopped in there to pick up some lime for the garden. The only two places I really like shopping are book stores and nurseries: they smell good, they sound good, they're quiet and peaceful.

Unlike here, where someone has awakened too early from nap. We have been working since mid-February to get all the kids sleeping in the same room at night and at the same times during the day. We're progressing, but it's slow and at times painful. DOB's mother will sometimes tell a story with feeling as fresh as yesterday of incidents two decades ago when someone Woke The Baby Up Too Soon Thus Ruining My Nap. Yes, I know how that feels. Fortunately after the first incident when D2 started screaming in the night because he had "heard a small noise" we have not, at least, repeated that one.

A Post for D3

Amongst all the outgoing or just plain loud personalities around here, D3 can sometimes get overlooked a bit, as she quietly examines flecks of dirt on the floor. She's developed her own coping skills. If any desirable person--particularly DOB--comes within her radar she knows how to turn on the cute, with flicking fingers and a smile that goes down to her toes. What's funny is that as soon as she's picked up she generally goes right back to her usual mode of looking at everything else minutely. She doesn't care for too much eye contact, but she does want to know that you're there.

She is starting to scoot forward, both arms at once as if she's doing the breaststroke. Usually she prefers to roll, often pausing to relax on one side like a miniature chubby Queen of Sheba. Sometimes she intersperses this with leg lifts, as if she needed to work that chub off, which you can see from the picture is not at all a good idea.

She can say "Mama" and I think she knows what she's saying, but it could be open to dispute. She certainly knows who she means.

Hooray! I think . . . .

I can still hear an annoying noise that usually cannot be heard by people over 25. Is this a good or a bad sign?

Created by Train Horns

Fairy Tale Life

We are turning into peasants. I think it hit me when I first mastered wearing a baby on my back. With a baby in a cute little front pack you can be a hip urban mom out for a stroll and shopping. With a baby on your back, doing household chores, you're a peasant.

Then there's our diet: bread or porridge and eggs for breakfast (OK, rich peasants); potatoes for lunch; soup and bread for supper. Easy, cheap, filling, and nutritious. I haven't quite resorted to packing raw turnips in DOB's lunch, but it's only a small step.

The ducklings run about outside barefoot in all kinds of weather, usually with a fair spattering of mud. Our back yard is in transit between a patch of mown grass and a wild jumble of garden and mud. Those scenes in the movies where the lady from the Estate visits her humble tenants--the ones with the baby screaming in the background--are starting to look familiar.

We're not about to add animals to the mix. I refuse to wear peasant blouses. And I'm not giving up electricity voluntarily. But I think we should keep a sharp lookout for visits from witches and the Big Bad Wolf.

Duckling Moments

QOC: And so God is going to make a new earth with everything good in it and nothing bad.

D2: Let's still live in our same house!

D1: Except on the new earth it will be cleaner.

D2: Yes, because all the toys will be picked up.

*****************
It used to be that the babies when nursing would reach out and hold each others' hand as they nursed. Then their arms grew longer. Now they either try to scratch each others' eyes out or arm wrestle as they nurse. Somehow it's just not as heartwarming.

*****************
D2 has been in search of a generalized complaint. He tried, "I'm so tired," for awhile, until he discovered that tired people got to spend ten minutes resting in bed. Then it was, "I'm so hungry," which produced whatever food he had turned up his nose at during the previous meal; then, "I'm so lonely," which we pointed out was a bit ridiculous in a room with four other people.

So for a while he was reduced to standing in the middle of the house, saying, "I'm so . . . so . . . so . . . so . . . so . . . so . . ."

The other night he finally found a way to end the sentence. "I'm so . . . goopy."

Goopy he may be.

Coping

My sister-in-law once made fun of me on a visit because I was rummaging in the pantry for candy. "QOC has become a normal person at last," she said, "She needs chocolate."

Maybe I held myself to too tight of a standard when I was younger. Maybe I still do. Self-control was always my point of pride. I could, and did, make a microscopic bag of M&Ms last a month. If I decided that rising at 4:30 in the morning every day was what needed to be done, then up at 4:30 I would be. I didn't need to indulge myself. Don't get me wrong--I could always enjoy life, including M&Ms and sleeping in--but not in a needy way. I always had to feel that I could do without it. I never wanted to need a crutch.

Now--well, I understand a little more. Food still doesn't affect me that way and probably never will, but I understand the desire to binge. The need to do something, anything, that will quiet the noises in your head and maybe even hurt a little because the real pain is too much to deal with. Food is a handy thing for some people. Sleep for others. I can't eat when I'm upset and suffer from insomnia, so those don't work for me.

The irony is, there's nothing wrong in my life. Nothing bad. Just too much of good things. But that can hurt, too. If I were to make a list of the type of activities that I find difficult, and a list of the activities that I absolutely must do in the course of a day, the overlap would be almost total: following routines; emotional interactions; monitoring my surroundings; crisis management. There is simply no time or energy or need for the things I am good at: spontaneity; abstract interactions; detailed analysis.

What I do to cope is read. It sounds harmless enough. And it's not that there's anything wrong with reading. Nor am I distressed at the books I read, mostly light fantasy, as being evil. I just don't like to need them. I don't like that I'm always, always, looking for an escape from my real life and my real duties. But I am.

And it seems wrong. Shouldn't it be enough to be assured I'm doing the right thing? Am I saying that God and the Bible aren't enough to pull me through my daily tasks? I've tried to find ways to rearrange my life to work from my strengths and--they're not there. There's only so much improvement a housekeeping plan can take. Do something fun and spontaneous and I wind up regretting it amid piles of laundry and dishes for the next three days. I can sit down and pretend I'm planning for future years of school, but I know perfectly well I'll scrap it all and start over when the time comes, so what is the point?

There is no room for anything but diapers meals laundry diapers laundry meals diapers meals laundry (none of those done well), and if there's a momentary pause I'm too exhausted to tackle the sort of housekeeping projects I might actually enjoy, too mentally frazzled to even communicate with another human being (some evenings DOB comes home and I literally cannot speak to him)---so, I read. Serious books require too much mental effort and housekeeping and mothering books just depress me. I don't need more ideas about how to do things better; I have read all that before. So I read fantasy. As if I were drowning, grabbing at twigs and hoping they will hold. Or, if my hands are full (as they often are), I click refresh a hundred time, looking for messages.

I turn to words like some people turn to drink. And if I can't make my own words I have to go hunting for someone else's.

I think I should interact with the children more, but the more I interact early in the day the less likely I am to still be able to speak to them by dinnertime. I think I should do something that had some value for someone else or even for myself, but I can't come up with anything that wouldn't push me over the edge. Taking a walk used to be my favorite way to relieve stress, but I can't do that now.

So I just . . . read. But I don't like it because I'm not reading for fun so much as I am reading to cope, and I don't like that I need to cope. I ought to be stronger than this. I shouldn't need something. Or maybe I should. Maybe I am not supposed to be as tough as I would like to be.

Epic Battle

I'm going to try a trick I learned from the Zoomlians.

This afternoon I will attack . . .

the dreaded laundry monster of DOOOOOMMMMM!!!!

Yes, that feels better already. I wonder if D2 will loan me his sword?

Doing Things

Sometimes I wonder if I want the wrong things for my children. Being me, I more often wonder why everybody else does. One time I came across a blog where a mother recounted how she would train her children when the ship was getting a bit too loosely run, and one of the things on her list to retrain them in was to ask permission before doing anything.

Maybe that was just a temporary measure in response to running too wild. But I was still struck dumb at the thought. I'd probably survive about five minutes of that much decision-making. More than that, though, I don't want my children to have every choice they make subject to my scrutiny. I try to set things up so they have a wide range of things they can do without even consulting me (although if it involves poison, fire, or considerable heights I hope they'll check in first). Maybe it's just for my own sanity. But maybe there's something more to it.

Another thing that would bother me, that doesn't seem to bother (in the sense of thinking it ought to be otherwise) many mothers, is children who have trouble finding things to do. Most parents of schooled children complain about the difficulties of summer and the need to plan for it, and many parents of homeschooled children complain (or boast?) that their children soon find life dull without lessons and are eager to start up again. I do plan to start lessons one of these days, but if it comes at the cost of my children losing their astounding ability to teach themselves, I doubt they would be worth the trade-off.

Sometimes people talk about the virtues of developing initiative in children, but it usually seems to be defined as "doing what I think they need to do before I get around to telling them to do it." It seems to me that children are born with a huge stock of initiative. Maybe too much initiative. And perhaps that's the trouble. Perhaps parents wind up training or entertaining that drive right out of children, replacing the desire to do things, explore things, try it out with the willingness to sit still and wait for something to happen to them.

I do want my children to obey me; I do sometimes resort to "Everybody sit down with a book and DON'T MOVE." But I hope in the long run that my instructions are always an interruption or at best guidance for a full life, not a relief from the tedium of existence.

Then again, while I was pondering and writing this post, the older ducklings arranged a considerable quantity of toys, blankets, and small items of furniture in my closet, and when I pointed out that it would need to be removed protested that it was their house and they finally had it exactly how they wanted it. So perhaps there's something to say for passivity.

What I Can Accomplish While Keeping the Babies Quiet and Out of Trouble

Moving Colors

Posts have been infrequent owing to the frequent lack of one or both hands and the challenge of coming up with something that doesn't relate to bodily fluids, screaming, or cabin fever.

We're all doing amazingly well, considering. This is the worst time of year for me. I need out. Need out need out need out. And it's still terribly cold, although warmer weather is promised soon. (Sixties this weekend! I will be dancing in the street!) But I haven't completely lost my head yet, nor have I taken off anyone else's.

Last week we decided it was time to move the babies out of our bed, owing to D4's new-found fascination with climbing on our pillows at 3 a.m. in order to peer out the window. Co-sleeping is lovely and cozy while it lasts, but when all the grownups must leave for the couch it is time to call an end to it. The transition has been a bit rocky, but we're down to one meal for D4 in the early morning and I am starting to learn to sleep again. D3 seems relieved to no longer be kicked in the head and sleeps like a log. The big kids are sleeping in the living room until the babies have settled down.

In the shifting kaleidoscope of family life, this change means the big kids must be ready for bed before the babies go down, and the babies are taking fewer daytime naps and ready to go to bed sooner, and DOB gets home later, so it makes sense to put the babies to bed first, then have supper. This, in turn, has made supper a far more relaxing meal, makes it much easier for me to do the dishes since I can start immediately after supper instead of an hour later, and gives some time with already-jammied kids to play or read stories before bed. It works for this week, anyway.

We bravely ventured out to the downtown library on Saturday afternoon, viewing a visiting Lincoln exhibit and a marionette display but mostly visiting the elevators, staircases, and pedestrian bridge.