Putting the Blog to Bed

"And down once more but not so fast,
  They're on their way to bed at last.
  The day is done, they say goodnight,
   and somebody turns off the light." 
                       --Sandra Boyton, The Going to Bed Book

        I started my blog a little over 8 years ago.  Back then I was the mom of a toddler and a baby, simply trying to not lose my mind.  Writing has always been a way for me to quiet my mind.  Being a stay at home mom can be lonely.  My blog was a way to communicate with the world and maintain a piece of myself.  I have written about the highs and lows, the mundane.  I have recorded the quips of my very verbal children.  Through it all, I've tried to be paint an honest portrait of motherhood.  One of the best things to come out of the blog has been a yearly book of our lives (converting the blog posts and pictures into a hardcover book). 

     Since the start of 2019, I've found it hard to write.  My children are getting older.  Motherhood has not gotten any easier, but I've wanted to maintain their right to privacy.  As a result, I've been unable to share most of what has been going on in my life.  When I'm not busy being a mom, I'm a teacher.  I find myself walking a fine line about what is appropriate to share, especially since I teach at my kids' school.  Additionally, as blogs slowly become obsolete, the platforms for converting blogs to books no longer exist in the same capacity.  It's much simpler and cheaper to create an Instagram photobook.

    Finding the need to constantly censor myself, my desire to write has waned (but apparently not my passive voice for all you grammar nerds).  I'd like to find a new avenues for writing.  I have thoughts, opinions, and stories to share.  I just need to figure out how.  In the meantime, putting the blog to bed frees me from the guilt that comes as each week passes and I fail to write.  Santa gave me a leather journal for Christmas to encourage me to find time to write. Maybe it will be the start of something new. 

     Sleep well mommy blog.

Whirling March Winds

So far my blogging in 2019 has been sub par.  I've been so busy that I have not been in a mental space to write.  It's become something that weighs on me instead of being a release.  I'm not ready to give up the blog, but I need to forgive myself for my blog failings.  Like the winds of March, I feel myself being whipped by life.

This year has required me to devote an inordinate amount of energy to constant health issues for the kids.  I have spent way too much time dealing with trips to urgent care and the ER.  It's left me a firm believer in the need for a single payer health plan.

In times of chaos, it's important to be able to step back and appreciate the quiet moments.  A sudden burst of spring weather, meant kids clamoring to play outside.

Eileen made a chalk outline of Robin.  This is him screaming, "No accessories!" as she tried to add a hat.

For St. Patrick's Day I made my first successful corned beef.  The carrots turned out divine and I was very pleased with my lemon roasted cabbage.  St. Patrick's Day was also marked by Robin being struck by the flu despite being vaccinated.  It was alarming how quickly he became so sick.

Once his fever came down, Robin.  Robin didn't let the flu stop him from dressing up for St. Patrick's day.  He may not have wanted to eat, but the flu didn't mean he couldn't look his dapper best.

Robin managed to develop a raging ear infection with a 101.8 fever the following week that resulting in him snuggling me in my classroom the last period of the day.

With so much going on, I found the best relief is snuggling a baby.  It was a win-win situation since it meant his mama got a much needed break.  I love this little boy so much (but I'm also glad I get to give him back).

It's been such a gift having my sister live nearby. Linus loves Cedric too and the feeling is mutual.  It's pretty fun that Cedric is at the face where he loves you but also kind of wants to eat you.

Life right now is a constant stream of illness and sports practices and games.  No one ever said parenthood is easy.  It's hard to reminisce about the carefree days of pre-children, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.  I mean, look at this face.

I'm raising kids to be amazing adults some day.  I'm playing the long game at life.  While these March winds whirl all around me, there is joy in the chaos.

Making Meaning with the Simpsons

In the education world, "making meaning" has learners working towards gaining of deeper understanding of content that goes beyond basic facts.  Learners demonstrate what they learned in a way that makes sense to them, use references and resources to support their idea.  As a teacher I try to help students make "make meaning," but sometimes you just have to let kids do it themselves.

Today while I was cooking dinner, I heard a little voice repeating to no one in particular, "Ow, quit it. Ow, quit."  Only hearing it in the background, I didn't process what was going on but simply remembered the very first Christmas episode of the Simpsons.  In this episode, Bart decides that what his mom would love for Christmas is for him to get a tattoo of the word, Mom, on his arm.  The result is spending all holiday money on laser tattoo removal.  As Bart sits on the couch, his siblings repeatedly poke his arm.  As they do so, Bart says each time, "Ow, quit it."

Back in the kitchen I'm busy with dinner.  I hear "Ow, quit it," again and sense movement by my leg.  I look down and see Robin covering his arm with a moist towel.  Beneath it was the temporary tattoo he had asked about earlier.

                              MY 5 YEAR OLD WAS MAKING MEANING OF THE SIMPSONS!

It was a proud mom moment.  On one level, Robin was demonstrating higher level thinking skills and making connections.  On an even better level, my son is awesome because he likes the Simpsons and already appreciates its humor at a young age.

Kiss Me I'm Irish

      Growing up, if you asked me what my family's heritage was I would say that I was mostly Irish and German, but my last name (maiden) was Danish.  Family lore told of the young woman who came over from Ireland with two candle sticks and got married in her petticoat (the only white thing she owned).  Having Irish nuns as teachers only cemented my Irish identity.

     In 6th grade I remember reading in my very new science book that scientists were currently mapping the human genome and were hoping to complete it in the next 10 years!   Enter the second decade of the 21st Century.  Home DNA kits are readily available. I was curious about what secrets my DNA might hold, but I'm also someone who has trouble spending money on things for myself that seem unnecessary.
   
     I learned my mother and sister both had been in the possession of 23andMe kits for over a year, but had not gone ahead and taken the test.  My sister was worried about misuse of data.  While she would never admit it, I'm pretty sure my mother was worried she would learn she wasn't Irish or only the slightest amount.  Fear of losing her entire identity kept her from learning about herself.  Worries about the misuse of my personal information did concern me, but since the test allows you to dictate how it is shared -- used as part of a larger study, submitted for further health diagnostics -- I felt I was ready to take the chance.  Since I have not committed any crimes, I'm not worried about my DNA being used to convict me.
   
      I put a 23andMe kit on my Christmas list.  My older sister got it for me.  I wasted no time taking a sample.  I maniacally cackled, telling my mother she would now learn the bitter truth.  She's not Irish.  I know.  I'm evil. 

      Of course things never go as planned for me.  While extremely uncommon, my first sample did not provide enough DNA.  The company kindly sent me a free replacement kit.  The second time it all went through very quickly.  It only took about 3 weeks for me to learn the truth of myself.

      And the DNA says.....I'm Irish.  Phew.  My mother can rest easy now.  The results were not what I expected.

• I'm very Irish.  I had figured I was maybe 25% Irish.  Nope.  Try 75.8% 
• It actually says Irish and British Isles but then it breaks down into counties and strength within counties.
• It's very strong in the Irish counties of Mayo, Donegal, and Dublin.
• 8.5% Danish.  I guess it wasn't just the name.
• 7.1 % Swiss and German.  More surprising is that it's Swiss.  There is only the slightest evidence of Germany.
• 8.3% Broadly Northwestern European

    Other interesting tidbits?  I'm 86% less Neanderthal than other 23andMe customers.  This means I lack markers for things like straight hair and less back hair.  My maternal haplogroup is the same as Marie Antoinette.  

    So there you have it.  I am very white.  I've been living a lie. I'm barely (if at all) German.  I'm really surprised by the lack of Eastern European and Mediterranean countries.  

    The whole thing is crazy fascinating.  It's amazing what your DNA can tell you.  I opted against doing any of the medical screenings.  I do believe there is such a thing as too much information.  The next steps?  Convincing my parents to both do a DNA kit.  Maybe now that my mom has some assurance of her Irish heritage, she will finally got through with it.  I'd love to go to Europe some day, but I think I will skip meeting very distant relatives.

    So this St. Paddy's day I will revel a little deeper.  If my dark curly hair (okay, it used to be dark but now I'm letting it go gray), pale white skin, and green eyes weren't enough to convince people I was Irish, I've now got the papers to prove it.  Slainte!

Can't Stop. Won't Stop. Snowing.

In case you were unaware, Washington state has been experiencing the most snow since 1923.  Puget Sound is not accustomed to large amounts of snow.  This problematic snow situation is exacerbated by the 2nd hilliest metropolitan area in the country, lack of infrastructure (severe lack of plows, sand, salt), and wet snow with lots of layers of compact snow and ice on the road.  Basically, Puget Sound has shut down.

My hats off to the meteorologists who have been uncannily accurate in the predictions.  The snow started a week ago Sunday.  Monday was a snow day.  Hooray!  Tuesday was a snow day weird but cool.  Wednesday was late start for school.  Thursday was normal.  Friday was early dismissal due to snow.  The forecast predicted a 2 pm storm start.  Instead snow began falling right at noon as students left.  I jammed as much instruction as I could into those few days, giving all my students everything they could possibly want to study for tests and hoped for the best. 

The snow never really melted from that first snow storm.  It's usually rare for it to snow during the day in the lowlands.  Normally, it snows at night.  You wake up to snow and then it rains and everything goes away.  Nope.  Not this time.  It was cold and the snow stayed around.  Thursday I went grocery shopping with the rest of the population.  Store shelves were cleared.  No milk, no bread, no eggs.  Lines all the way to the back of the store. Then Friday it started snowing and didn't stop.  It snowed all Friday and through midday Saturday.  There was more Sunday, a lot more.  It just kept coming.  It snowed so much that even Dave's work closed!  Monday it snowed all.day.long. 

Linus took the opportunity to relax.

Dave and the kids spent a lot of time building/engineering in his workshop.  Eileen came up with the idea of making her own snow boots.  She saw where the weather was headed early on.  Eileen drilled her own holes, but Dave helped with securing the ropes.

 This pic is obviously before the Friday storm hit.

During the first storm, the kids and Dave built a fort. The miracle of snow is that it has the ability to turn siblings into playmates.

As the snow fell in earnest, I couldn't help but think of that song, "It's a marshmallow road."  Eventually all evidence of play disappeared, bushes and trees collapsed.   There was well over a foot of snow on the ground in places.  You can seem that the porch no longer looks multi-leveled and the snow is almost up to the bench. 

With everyone home due to snow on Monday, we decided to make the best of it and go sledding at an old school nearby (Aldercrest). I snagged the last three sleds at Big 5.  It wasn't too crowded and was great sledding.

One sled did not survive the experience.  I still consider it $7.50 well spent. Eileen and I decided to walk home (a little over a mile).

Yes, the snow has been magical.  Yes, we've watched movies, played board games, drunk hot cocoa in front of the fire while our clothes dried.  Today alone we did five 100 piece puzzles, one 200 piece, and a ridiculously hard 500 piece is on the kitchen table now.  We've baked cookies, made a dump cake, and read books.  I finally organized my binder of recipes.  I've updated my classroom website, sent emails to parents, and worked on my next unit for science.  The laundry is folded.  The bedding is washed.  The kids have built forts of all kinds.

But to be clear.  I AM OVER IT!!!!!

The fighting, the making annoying sounds until someone screams, the whining, the begging for more screens, the whining, the refusal to follow directions, the whining, and did I mention the fighting? 

It's not like summer break, where I can at least leave the house.  No.  First I have to dig the car out.  Then I have to hope the roads are clear (lots of fallen trees).  Everyone I would want to visit lives on hills that are in no way safe to attempt.  It's not like the kids want to go anywhere.  That might interfere with getting additional screentime.

Our garbage has now missed two weeks of pickups.  Our snow shovel is broken (but technically usable) and all stores are sold out of shovels.  I have now shoveled the driveway twice.  Dave has done it once.  The driveway is made worse by the fact that our road gets plowed so all the snow from the street is sent flying onto our driveway.  My body aches so badly from all the shoveling.

Today is Tuesday.  There is no school tomorrow due to snow.  Thursday is Valentine's Day and was already scheduled to be a half day.  I just want normalcy.  I want give my students their math and science tests and move on.  I have things to teach!  I feel bad for the teacher tasked with putting on the school musical in a week when there has been no school....

Snow is fun.  A snow day, singular, as in one snow day is cool.  Snow weeks are not. I'm sure the kids will look back on this time fondly.  Dave has been awesome at helping them engineer different things.  Even Robin has been busy building.  I no longer have to feel guilty for not taking the kids sledding in the mountains. I haven't even gotten the kids chocolates or anything for Valentines Day.  Whoops. 

I have faith that someday the snow will melt.  The pile of snow in front of my house is several feet deep so it may be with us for a while as a testament to our survival of the Seattle Snowpocalypse 2019.  Tomorrow I will wear cozy clothes, drink coffee, read a book, take lots of ibuprofen for my aching body, finish the owl puzzle, and hide from my children.  Because tomorrow is a snow day.

Love, Scorpio, and Communication

I am not generally someone who puts a lot of stock in astrology and zodiac signs.  However, recently I've been plagued by mommy guilt.  Like many parents, I feel like I spend a lot of time in loud disagreements with my kids.  It's like one of those bad relationships when you automatically fall into those well worn paths.  I got to thinking.  What am I doing wrong?  Why do I struggle to communicate my two oldest?

Looking for insights, I starting thinking about personalities.  I do think at times that Linus and I are way too similar which is why we frustrate each other.  Giving credit where credit is due, Linus has been nothing short of fantastic and amazing the last few weeks --seriously stellar human being.  Anyhow....I suddenly realized that both my big kids are Scorpios.  I knew this, but had never thought much about it.  As a Libra,  Scorpios are my least compatible!  According to all the information, we will struggle most in communication.  One website wrote that as a Libra, being in relationship with a Scorpio is a serious roller coaster ride.  No kidding.

The first step is to recognize that just because we have vary different personalities/ways of communicating, it doesn't mean we are doomed to a life of misery.  I fully intend to read the book, "How to Talk so your kids will listen, and listen so your kids will talk."  As the kids get older, I need to do a better job of listening.

Step 2.  Take a step back and love them for who they are.  Done!

Eileen loves animals, but recently she has been showing increased interest in her cousin, Cedric.  She still needs to work a bit on her technique, but they were both clearly happy.

Eileen and I have been struggling a lot recently with communicating.  Despite this, when Eileen woke up inexplicably at 5 am, her first thought was to make me a card.  You haven't known love, until you have been loved by Eileen.

Eileen's love language is acts of kindness. She loves to draw pictures, make cards, write personalized books, make awards, etc for the people she cares about.  I've never felt as loved or guilty as when Eileen made me this card.  How cute is this card?  A mama bird feeding 3 baby birds? C'mon!

Today in an effort to spend a little quality time with Eileen, I indulged her. After her shower, I put sun-in in her hair, blow dried, and then curled her hair.  She even picked out a special barette to wear.

This afternoon it started snowing.  As I worked in the kitchen, I marveled as she played by herself in the backyard (the boys were laid up on the couch).  I took time to watch and appreciate Eileen.  She made me pull my hair out several times today, but I still love her.  She is worth learning to communicate with better.

Growing and Changing

January is generally cold and bleak.  The world outside feels barren.  At the same time, day to day seems to be sputtering back into gear.  Everything feels both calm and out of sorts.  The new year brings a lot of reflection.  In recent days I've had time to engage in deep conversations about what has changed, what is happening, and where life is headed.

This morning I was chatting with my older sister.  She shared that when her son was younger, another mom told her that when your youngest is five, the idea of having another child becomes more difficult.  Not because you are older, but because your children's lives are in a new stage of independence and it is hard to go back to the days of no sleep, diapers, and constant care.

All my kids wanted for Christmas was a new baby.  Today Robin asked if I wanted another one.  I questioned him why he wanted one. Our conversation went like this:
Robin:  Because of all the cuteness.
Me: What if it isn't cute?
Robin: Then we can get rid of it.
Me:  I don't think it works that way.
Robin: Then we can sell it.

The idea of going back to the days of small people is exhausting.  I loved it, I miss it, but right now I need to focus on loving where I am versus missing what was.

My kids are now 5, 8, and 10.  They get themselves dressed, brush their own teeth, and even get themselves breakfast.  Sometimes Robin needs a little help.  Unless the kids have sports, I don't have to get up before 9 am.

Linus is turning into an amazing human being.  Last weekend he made Dave and I a romantic breakfast.  He prepared us coffee and chai as well as avocado toast. It was pretty good. Later he willingly accompanied me to a grocery store and unprompted bought his aunt, Sally, flowers with his own money. 

When we later visited Sally, he didn't try to change the television.  Instead he was quiet and well behaved.  He asked Sally to teach him how to change a diaper and later did it independently.  He helped her in the kitchen, chopping herbs.  Linus loves his cousin more than anything on this earth.

Linus is turning into a wonderful, thoughtful young man.  This morning he saw I was stressed.  He encouraged me to take time for myself and then proceeded to make me a cup of coffee. He knows just how I like it.

Eileen is a caretaker in her own right.  She is acutely aware of the needs of others.  In the past week I saw her offer to help her brother when he was upset, make thoughtful notes on scraps of paper for others, and gave me a neck massage.  Eileen is the queen of making crafty flowers as gifts for people.  She helps remind me to slow down and breathe.  At the end of a stressful day, her note on a scrap of paper that says, "Number 1 mom," can make all the difference.  It's a simple gesture that reminds me that I am loved.  Even when I infuriate her, she does not hold a grudge.

Robin is 5 and a whirling dervish of energy.  He flits through space.  Robin spends large amounts of time flinging his body across the room, hoping to land on padding.  No broken bones yet.  This week he lost his 2 bottom front teeth.  If that isn't a reminder that the days are long, but the years are short, I don't know what is.

This week different adults came up to me unprompted to share something special they saw one of my  children do or just how much they genuinely love them.  Parenthood is so hard.  So very hard.  Even teacher moms are exhausted by their own children by the end of winter break.  In the trenches, it's hard to keep perspective.  That's why all moms need a village, to have people appreciate your kids when you are too busy parenting them to enjoy them fully.

The last 4 months have been incredibly stressful.  While I don't believe in New Years Resolutions, I value reflection.  I've been spending time trying to step outside myself and identify what I want, what is important to me, and what it looks like.

So far I've identified the following:

1. Date my husband
2. Spend quality time with each of my kids
3. Don't make decisions based on feelings of obligation
4. Let my hair go gray (it's a losing battle)

Life feels so stressful right now, but I'm optimistic about the months ahead.  Let's be clear. There will be no baby, despite Robin's assurance of disposability.  We have spent the last 10 years in the mindset of parents with young children, aka survival.  My babies are still kids, but it's time to develop a new mindset, thrive. I don't want to keep waiting to live our best lives.  We had a taste of it this summer.  I want to do the things I've always said I wanted to do once everyone was potty trained and could walk. I am open to the possibilities of 2019.