Magnatile maze

Oma and Opa gave the kids the idea of blowing little balls with straws to race them.  Luke took it one step farther and used his beloved magnatiles to build a maze to race the balls through.  I linked a few straws together to make them longer.  Super fun!  

 

I've said it before, but I seriously think my kids would be fine if, 

along with art supplies and books, 

their only toys were magnatiles and a few dolls.

4 1/2

Gosh, I love these two.  They're growing up so fast, and I'm trying to remember to cherish every moment.  But, I get a little panicky when I think of not having little ones anymore.  What will I do when I can't kiss a tummy anymore, when I have no one to attack with a tickle until they exclaim that I'm going to make them go potty?  What will I do when my kids don't want to snuggle?

Silly.

Ally cracks herself up.

Busted!  Always a stinker.  She has her own candles, but she still tries to sneakily blow out Luke's.

Worry thoughts

Kate's has seen a therapists about her anxiety, another delightful thing that she got in the "my genes" package deal.

One of the things she's been told for about a year is to "talk back to her worry thoughts."  If she's worried that the house might catch on fire, she's to tell herself something like, "Houses don't catch on fire hardly ever, and we're very safe.  We don't burn any candles, no one smokes, we clean our dryer vents..."

Last night, Anna was sick so she was sleeping on a mattress in the hallway, and I was reading her this book while Kate read a book to herself in her own bed.

All of the sudden, Kate piped up from her room, "That guy really needs to talk back to his worry thoughts."

Oh, Anna!

For a while, I was publishing posts entitled, "Today's 'Oh, Anna!' moment" almost daily.

As she's gotten older, there aren't quite as many good stories, but today we had a pretty good one.


We used to struggle to get Anna to change her underwear every day.  I'd be folding a week's worth of laundry and I'd find seven pairs of Kate's underwear and only two of Anna's.

She's gotten better about changing her underwear, but it sounds like we have more work to do when it comes to socks.

Kate and Anna were waiting for me to make their oatmeal when Kate said, "Mommy, I couldn't find any socks."

"Yeah, I have to fold laundry," I said, "Go check in the basket in my room."

"I have socks!" Anna bragged.

"Yeah," Kate said, "that's because you never change your socks."

"I do, too," said Anna, giggling a little.

"Then why did you say yesterday at swim lessons," asked Kate, "that it felt weird taking your socks off since you'd had them on for a week?"

A little bit taller

Luke appeared at my door some time around 2am, crying, "My leg hurts so badly."  I pulled him into bed and massaged his leg.  Dave rolled over a little while later, always the peaceful sleeper (eye roll), and mumbled, "Whass going on?"  I told him Luke had growing pains.  As I massaged Luke's leg, I joked in my head, *Growing* pains, now that's something little Luke could use.

Luke fell asleep minutes later, and I didn't think any more about any of it, until Luke came rolling up to me on his little ride on toy a few minutes ago. (I'd brought it into the house a couple weeks ago to take a picture of it to sell on a FB page, but the kids decided they loved it, so they've been cruising around the house on it ever since.)

When he rode up he said, "Ally says I'm a little too big for this."

"No, honey," I said, thinking Ally was teasing him, "you're just perfect for it."

"No!  Mama," he said, "I was perfect for it yesterday, but today I just a little too big.  Because I grew during the night."

"Ohhh," I said, understanding, "because you had-"

"Growing pains!" he finished for me, "Yeah, look, Mama, look!  Now I have to do this with my legs!"

He straightened out his legs to the front of the toy, to show me just how much bigger his legs were today.

Valentines

Luke and Ally know a little 5-year-old boy who has been through a lot in his young life.  I'll call him Jayden.  A few weeks ago Jayden told Luke that he had a gun at his house that he was going to use to shoot up the school.  Luke told me about it, and I kind of panicked.  I didn't know the boy's situation, so I was afraid he really had a gun at his house.  And I was afraid he might bring it to school, and, even if he didn't intentionally shoot anyone, there might be an accident.

It turned out everything was fine; I'd worried for nothing.

On Friday Luke and Ally wanted to paint, so we decided to make Valentine cards.  When they were dry I told them to write their names on them.  As they were writing, they started asking how to spell other kids' names, and I told them, "No, just write your names on them.  When Kate and Anna were in K4, they were just supposed to write their own names, so they could give them to anyone in the class."

Then they explained they'd made certain cards for certain kids.  Ally showed me a special one she'd made for her friend Claire.  Luke showed me a card with a big X he'd painted for Ben X.  Then Luke dug through his pile and held up a card and told me, "And this one is for Jayden.  I painted a shooter, because D says he has a shooter at home to shoot up the school."

Uh...

Maybe we'll be buying some Valentines from Target this year.

Two against one

This week seemed to be a long week for the kids.  They were all a little tired and grumpy, especially the twins.

On Wednesday, Luke was especially grumpy all morning.  At one point, I don't even remember exactly what he was so mad about, but he was sitting at the table eating a yogurt stick and insisting I should do something, and I had calmly told him no.  After a while, I repeated the no statement again, calmly but firmly, and he burst into a tantrum and sent his yogurt stick flying and it hit me in the head.

I couldn't even believe it.  I took a deep breath as I wiped the yogurt off my forehead and said, "You need to go sit on the couch until we are both calm."

He cried wildly as he walked to the living room.

Ally looked at me, fiercely angry, and yelled, "I'm going by Lukey, because I don't like it when people are mean to my brother."

I used the "alone time" to clean up the kitchen and regroup.

The next day, Luke told me, "Yesterday, when you made me sit on the couch... Ally came too, so I'm not mad at you."

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Last year, the kids teased Dave by adding a picture of his friend to his cake with a speech bubble saying, "Happy birthday, Baby."

This year, they decided the joke would be to actually put 39 candles on his cake.  I said it was okay, as long as they kept them far away from the paper pictures they'd added.

Anna gave Dave a 3D picture she'd worked really hard to make.

Kate made Dave a really beautiful canvas saying what each of the kids loved most about him, and I made him a calendar... the one I give him every Christmas, but ran out of time to make this year.

It was a fun party, except for one little mishap.  Despite being careful, one of the pictures did catch fire.  And, half of Ally burned off.  She was not happy.

Cuddles

Our sweet hamster Cuddles died on Tuesday.  We'd had Dave's birthday party that night, so it had gotten pretty late. The twins were already sleeping when Kate went to feed Cuddles and found her dead in the corner of the cage.

Cuddles was a great hamster.  We could let her run around the room, and she'd always come back to us to put her back in her cage.

Here she is going back to her cage from the bedroom.

And I'm certain she held the record for how many sunflower seeds she could stuff in her cheek.  Hamsters only live 2-3 years, and Cuddles was definitely getting old, but it was still kind of a shock.

Baby Luke with a young Cuddles

The girls and I were really sad.  Anna cried herself to sleep that night.

The next morning, Anna broke the news to the twins. Ally wasn't sad though, she said, "Hey guys!  You know how Jesus died and rose again?   Cuddles will rise again, too. You don't have to be sad!"

"Yeah," Luke said, "Jesus died so no one else will have to die.  Ally's right!"

Another case of theology getting lost in translation to four-year-olds.

But, Cuddles will be missed.  She was really a great little hamster.

Luke's tacos

Luke rarely eats dinner.  I know that sounds horrible, but I'm doing the best I can.  I have always had the philosophy that making kids a separate meal from what the rest of the family is having, along with sending negative messages of entitlement, just makes them more picky.

So, I usually make something I know he'll eat for lunch and for dinner, I make sure there is at least one substantial side dish that he will eat.

Last week Luke discovered a way he could enjoy tacos with the rest of us.  He decided he liked the shell filled with cheese, olives, and a few chips (that were out so he could have some chips, cheese, and salsa while the rest of us ate tacos.)  Not bad.  He was missing much of the protein, as well as most of the vegetables the rest of were adding, but it was a start.  When he was done, he asked for a second.

Then over the weekend, we were having tacos at the cottage.  I'd forgotten to pack olives, and we didn't have chips and salsa, but I knew he'd eat the plain greek yogurt with maple syrup and blueberries we were having as a side.

When Luke asked for his taco, I told him we didn't have olives, and he said it was okay.  He filled his taco with cheese and added some blueberries instead.  Then he said, "And chips please?"  I told him we didn't have any.  He said, "Oh!  That okay, Mama."  He came back with a loaf of bread and a butterknife.  He cut up the bread and added it on top of the blueberries and cheese.  He took a big bite, and he was thrilled with his recipe!  He ate two of his new tacos.

So, the kid who is too picky to eat nearly any dinner I make, is a big fan of cheese, blueberry, and bread tacos.

Someone call CPS

I think everyone has a strange, irrational fear somewhere below the surface.  Ever since Kate was born, I've had an irrational fear that something would happen and I'd get mistakenly reported to Child Protective Services.

Every once in a while when something happens, like the kids get a bruise on their head or I forget so send snow pants to school with them, I play out a scenario in my head where I have to defend myself and prove it was a reasonable accident, not neglect.

The last couple weeks was a whole cluster of How would a good parent let this stuff happen? events.  I found it 90% just funny, but about 10% of me was like, Oh, for goodness sake! What will people think of us!

At the cottage, we've taken up ice skating, and we bought a snowmobile, to cruise around on the lake and slowly pull a sled behind us to give the kids rides.  The kids always wear ski helmets when skating, and they wear a snowmobile helmet when riding on the snowmobile or on the sled behind it.

The weekend before last ago, we were skating and Dave took a fall.  He ended up with a doozy of a black eye getting x-rays of his wrist.  I'd told him he should tell his patients it was a hockey accident, because it sounded cooler than "I fell ice skating with my four-year-olds."  So he made a joke out of it, like I was an abusive wife, and would tell people, "Well, my wife wants me to say it was a hockey accident..."

Then last weekend, there was snow on the lake so we cleared off the ice rink to do some more skating, and we were able to take the snowmobile out for the first time.  Dave tested out the snowmobile and then took Kate for a ride.  We're not sure what happened, but within the first half hour of riding the snowmobile, Dave flipped it... with Kate on the back.  They both flew off, but thankfully nobody was hurt.  The snowmobile was pretty wrecked up, windshield and rearview mirror destroyed.  Dave felt like the world's worst Dad but things happen.  He wasn't being remotely reckless.  It was just an accident.

The next day, Anna decided to match Dave's black eye, despite her helmet.  I'd given Dave a hard time the weekend before saying he should've worn a helmet, but the helmet did nothing to help Anna's face.

So Monday morning, we sent Anna to school with a black eye.  If that wasn't bad enough, Kate, our introvert, suddenly became quite gregarious and told Sophia, Taylor, Sophie, Talon, Mrs. Piatti, Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Stark...basically everyone that her dad crashed the snowmobile with her on the back. 

The snowmobile, minus the windshield and mirror.

But Kate was no worse for wear.

Poor Anna.  She hit it just an inch in front of the helmet.

It was really supposed to just be fun!

He sure told me

Luke's hair has gotten really shaggy.  This morning, I was combing his hair, and I teased him, "We really need to get you a haircut after school today.  You are shaggy!"

He was ignoring me, so I teased him some more, "What is Mrs. Koscielniak going to say when she sees your messy hair?"

He just gave me a look, so I hugged him and said, "Do you think she'll say, 'That's okay, Lukey, you're still a cutie.'"

Then he shook his head at me, like a teenager embarrassed of his mom, and replied, "No.  Her not talk like you."

Read this

Luke brought this up to me and said, "Read this."

"Oooh," I said, "look at all those letters!  I see an L, a B, an E, an I, an H, a U, and your name!  Tell me what you wrote."

"I told you to read it," he responded. "I can't read! I only four!"

Happy Birthday, Kate!

I let the kids have a "big" birthday party every other year.  They can have a group of friends over or have it some other place.  This was Kate's off-year.  I said she could invite a few friends over, but she only wanted two.  They came over on her actual birthday.  On the weekend, we had grandparents and cousins over to celebrate.  She had a horse on her cake again this year, but, unlike two years ago, I didn't light it on fire this year.

I can't believe Kate is nine.  In some ways it seems like she was a baby so recently.  In other ways, she seems like she's an adult, a peer, not a kid.  She doesn't ever really need to be disciplined, she helps me out, and, sometimes, keeps me in line.  

She's a kind, generous, motivated, amazing kid!

Anna and the twins helped me decorate for her party.

New Years Eve

We were at the cottage for New Year's Eve.  That afternoon the neighbor kids came to play at our house and all the kids had planned one of their little shows they put on.

That evening we went next door to celebrate with our neighbors.  I'd explained the plan to all the kids, "We're going to ice skate, then have dinner.  After dinner, you can put on your show, and play a little while.  Then at 8:00, we're going to have champagne and sparkling juice and toast to the new year."

We had dinner, and the kids put on their show.  It was a better show than usual... or maybe it was the two glasses of champagne.

After the show, the kids played, and then I called them up for the toast.

After they finished their sparkling juice, Luke was hinting he was hungry.  I said we'd just eaten an hour ago.  He hinted again that he was hungry.  I noticed there was candy on the neighbor's counter, and I said, "Luke, you just had all that juice with sugar; you're not having candy."

He kept looking at me.

Then my little carb addict furrowed his brow and said, accusingly, "You said us was going to have toast!"

Best flu ever

It's no secret, I'm pretty type A. Okay, I'm really type A.  In fact, I believe there may be some discussion about adding a letter to the alphabet before A, just to describe me.

I’m worst every December. Although I always vow to keep it simple and focus on what really matters, I inevitably slip back into my old stressful habits. 

Last year was no different.  I started out with the best intentions, even going so far as suggesting we skip holiday cards to keep things simple. But cards got sent. And we signed up for a craft fair for charity. And I decided to host a going-away party. When it came to teacher's gifts, I decided a group gift was too impersonal; we'd do our own.  And, I didn’t want the other staff thinking they weren’t appreciated, so I ended up with a two page list. And gift cards are also impersonal, so we needed a small handmade gift to go with each one.  And, the bags... well, wouldn't the gifts be more special in a hand stamped bag?  

With these things on top of the everyday things in life, I was barely holding it together.  I was totally stressed, making list after list of what we'd do when.  I was snapping at Dave for not being more helpful when I was creating most of my own stress. I was up late every night and running around like a madwoman during the day.  I wasn’t taking time for my kids, because I had to get all the “important” stuff done.

Then it hit me hard, probably because of the stress and because I wasn’t taking care of myself.  My throat was killing me, my head was pounding, my arms and legs tingled, everything hurt.  I was sick.  Really sick.  

But, I couldn’t be sick.  I had too much to do.  I had a party to host.  I had to bake cookies for a cookie exchange.  The teacher gifts weren’t done.  So, although I could hardly walk, I called to get a flu test, because if there wasn’t a risk of spreading the flu, then gall-darn-it, I was going to power through and get things done!

In the doctor’s office, I felt so terrible that I broke down into tears.  I went home, with a bad case of influenza A, and collapsed into bed.  Then, in between fever dreams, I reevaluated what had to get done.  I decided, that the way I felt, all we had to do was make sure the kids were safe, fed, and, preferably, made it to school the next day. 

That night Dave asked me what he could do to get the teacher gifts ready, but I was too sick to even explain it.  I told him, never mind, it didn’t matter. He figured it was the fever talking.  The teachers got gift cards, but without the homemade gifts or personalized notes, and they got them in plain bags.  And, since no one wanted oatmeal and influenza A cookies, we didn’t bring cookies for the cookie exchange

And, you know what?  The world didn’t stop. No school staff felt unappreciated.  The holidays weren’t ruined.

As soon as I started to feel better, the kids fell, one by one.  High fevers, aches, pains, that influenza cough.  And more plans were cancelled.  Things didn’t get done.  My to-do list was mostly put aside.

Instead of doing things I thought we had to do, we read books, we played games, we sat around watching movies, and we soothed our aching throats with ice-cream for breakfast.  And, those days were some of the best winter break days.

That flu was actually a blessing.  It gave us those wonderful days, and more importantly it gave me a much needed lesson.  It’s a lesson I’ve been trying to remember as we’ve entered the new year, and one I hope to remember all year long, every year.  We can’t ignore our to-do lists permanently, but we can be much more judicial about what we put on them.  And the top of our list should always be our family and those closest to us.

Most wonderful

This past Christmas was unbelievably wonderful.  I'd gotten sick the week before, and then the kids got sick.  So, we took it easy and we focused on time together and what was important.

This year, Dave and I had agreed we'd give the kids one present each, as well as the gift of an experience.  And Santa would also bring the kids a gift.  The older girls decided to ave up their allowance to buy a gift for each of their siblings.  Since they chose expensive gifts, I did pay half.

I can't quite express how perfectly everything worked out.  We spent the month preparing for Christmas by lighting our advent wreath each night and reading that night's devotion.  The girls were incredibly excited all month to present their siblings with the gift they had ordered with my help.

I allowed Kate to write a note to Santa telling him the one thing each of the kids wanted, but aside from that, there was little talk about what everyone wanted. Until one morning, Luke came up to me and asked me to tape sheets of paper together.  He said he had to make a list. He kept adding paper on for me to tape.  I asked what kind of list it was going to be.  He said, "It's all the things I want for Christmas."  I hung my head a moment, because everything had failed.  But, I helped him tape the paper together.  Then he got some markers and started "writing" and asked me to help.

"Write 'Elsa doll for Ally,'" he instructed.

Then he "wrote" some more.  "Write 'Buck's tickets for Daddy.'"

Like his big sisters, he was excited about the giving.  He didn't even get to his own present until he was prompted by Anna.

Kate spent much of the month making me a coin purse and a homemade scarf and making Anna a knit headband.  She decided since Dave loves gnomes that he had to have a Mickey Mouse gnome she'd seen at Disney, and we ordered that.  There was a lot of excitement, but it really was mostly about the giving.

As Christmas got closer, and the presents started to get put under the tree, the twins began wrapping up their toys and writing people's names on it.

Luke blowing out the Advent candles.

It was Anna's turn to light and blow out the candles this night

By the evening before Christmas Eve, the day we'd have our family Christmas, I felt well enough to work with the twins to make our traditional cinnamon rolls for the following morning.

Santa came, with professional North Pole tags. I love Pinterest.

Then it was Christmas Eve morning!

Ally got Elsa dolls from Dave and me.

Luke got an airplane carrier

Anna got a Rapunzel doll she'd fallen in love with at Disney.

Kate had been sad all month that we hadn't earned enough at the craft fair to adopt a fifth animal.
So, she got an adopted Panda.

Santa brought Luke Olaf

Kate and Anna opening their "experience gift."  A five pack of Bucks tickets!

Finley was very excited about the giraffe Santa got her.

Kate gave the twins each their own American Girl Bitty Baby twin

Anna gave Kate a Julie doll.  This was the worst kept secret ever.  Anna was so excited eluding to it all month long.

Anna gave the twins clothes for their Bitty Baby Twins

Ally is playing with the magnatiles (form the playroom) that Luke wrapped up for her.

I've always rolled my eyes in frustration when I'd hear the lyrics, "It's the most wonderful time of the year."  I always felt it was the most stressful, most greedy, most forced-into-awkward-social-gathering, most anything-but-wonderful time of the year.  But, this Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year.