Mental Health Break - Classic Sesame Street Clips

You know, children's programming isn't what it used to be. So today, lets all relax and enjoy my three favorite Classic Sesame Street You Tube Clips.

(And yes, I have considered what choosing these particular three says about me).

The Handy Answer Book

A has been asking "why??" ever since he could talk. The wording of his questions are more complex now, but it comes down to the same thing - he wants to know about everything. My knowledge runs out long before his curiosity does.

I'm determined not to offer responses like "because" or "that's just how its made" any more than I absolutely have to, so I was delighted to be offered a review copy of The Handy Answer Book for Kids (and Parents). In fact, my exact words were "This book has 'where have you been all my life' written all over it!"

I would say this book was written with older children in mind, but that's fine because we'll be plumbing its depth for quite awhile. With 292 pages full of questions (and answers) such as "why is the sky blue? why do dogs bark? how does my body know how to wake up in the morning?" this is more like a small encyclopedia than anything else. A's favorite page is the one which explains fire extinguishers. He frequently asks us to read a page or two as his bedtime book.

As I've always said - the key to knowledge isn't knowing everything...just knowing where to find out.

Good Grief

Today my sons and I had lunch with friends at "the train restaurant" and then actually rode the rails around the suburbs for a few hours. It was great fun, but this post isn't about that.

On our way to lunch I noticed a police car driving behind me. When I parked, he parked behind me. I got out of the car and asked if everything was ok. He very kindly indicated that my registration stickers had expired...six months ago.

Really? Six?

I gave him a very genuine look of surprise and an apology. He cheerfully and casually told me to get my stickers ASAP but that he would give me no penalty and asked me to have a good day. A thought this whole thing was just the greatest. Mommy broke the law? A police officer was just talking to us?

Three hours, three lunches, and two train rides later we arrived back to our parked car. There was a ticket on the windshield, indicating that I had just been fined for - you guessed it - expired registration stickers. The ticket indicated that this second officer observed my previously forgiven offense two hours after the first one had. I hadn't been near the car at any point and certainly had no opportunity to procure and affix new registration stickers.

Take a moment to let this sink in. After six months of driving around with expired stickers I am apprehended twice during one lunch-and-play-date. Between driving into and out of this parking spot my months' long mistake attracted the authorities two separate times.

A thought this was absolutely the most wonderful thing ever.

The way things were escalating it seemed my luck would have me in jail before it got me home, so I drove straight to the DMV, waited for the car parked in front of the big picture window to leave, pulled in, left my sleeping baby in the car and walked up to the desk with one eye never leaving my locked illegal vehicle. For the first time in history there was no line and the DMV was staffed by a helpful, friendly clerk. I had my sticker two minutes later. Little Bee was never out of my line of sight and never woke up.

Driving home, A wanted me to talk about nothing else, imploring me to start from the beginning and tell the tale again and again ("and what did the first police officer do?? And then what did the second police officer do?"). What could be more exciting than his own parents getting a consequence for breaking a law? Especially a law involving stickers! The mysteries and possibilities have no end in his mind. We've talked a lot today about the helpfulness of police officers, and the link between behavior and consequences even when you're grown up.

It didn't sit well with him that I bought the sticker but still have to pay the fine. I mentioned that I could possibly call and explain what had happened and they might not make me pay. A had an incredulous look on his face. "Yeah..." he said, "but you shouldn't call the police that often."

When he asked to ride the trains again tomorrow, I said no. "But we could just park somewhere the policemen couldn't find us" he offered helpfully.

A little bit of fun every day

With the exception of our illness, we've been having a great time experimenting with "Preschool" at home. We thought you might be interested in an update. In the past month we have...

• learned about clouds and "made" one in our kitchen by boiling water.
• learned about trees and collected leaves, twigs, pine cones, and acorns.
• learned about flowers and filled our house with them, decorating with some, tearing others apart.
• lined up glasses with water filled to different heights and made music with them.
• made "Number Breadsticks"...and eaten them!
• drawn letters in flour.
• learned "ck, ee, sh, ow, and st" and read quite a few words that include these sounds. A highlight for me was hearing A yell out "two e's!!" in church last Sunday while pointing to the song that was up on the screen. Another highlight was showing A the word "Sheep" and asking if he could read it. His response was "that's a long word!" but then he realized he knew "sh" and he knew "ee" and he knew "p"...so it wasn't so hard after all!
• practiced skipping around the living room and tried bouncing balls in the kitchen.
• read "Charlotte's Web" together.
  

And so much more! Hopefully the fun can get us through the many, many months ahead. I'm excited for A to experience preschool with his peers next year, and doing these things at home aren't mutually exclusive with going to Preschool either. But I wouldn't have missed these experiences for the world.

And though not in the preschool lesson plans, I've seen that A is learning empathy as well. When Little Bee was heading towards the hot electrical heaters that line our walls, A froze in fear and yelled "no!!!!" I was surprised to see the deep concern etched in his face. When B needed to have saline drops sprayed into his congested nose, A (who hates having this done) could hardly restrain himself from grabbing our arms and pulling us back. I've been proud to see this ability to feel and care about anther's pain begin to grow in him.

Here are some pictures to help with the imagination.

Don't think for a second I came up with even one of these ideas on my own - they all come from here and here.

Little Bee's first words

Little Bee is learning how to talk! There is no longer any doubt that he is saying his brother's name...over and over and over again, for a month or two now. What could be a more perfect first word?

Then, the other day after breakfast I went to take him from his high chair, signing and saying "all done!" as I have done three times a day for the past several months. My hope was that he would learn to sign. Instead, this time he grinned and said "ah dun," beamed at me proudly, then hid his head in shyness.

Coincidence, you say? An eager Mommy hearing words where there is only baby chatter? Twice more within a few hours I had occasion to say and sign "all done!" to him, and each time he responded with his confident "ah dun!," proud beaming and shy smiles.

Then later that same day I was planning meals for the week and said to him "I think its time to make a quiche." He said "teesh!" For the rest of the day whenever I would say "quiche" he would jump in with "teesh!"

He has also started to say "mmm...muh...mmm...muh" this week which I think are requests for milk, or maybe Mommy. Is there really a difference, to an infant?

At ten month, we're well ahead of his older brother's vocal schedule, but then again Little Bee has been verbal since the beginning. I can't wait to hear what he says next.

Me, My Son, and Charlotte's Web

A and I just finished reading Charlotte's Web a few minutes ago. We've been reading it for about 10 days, cover to cover, fitting in a few chapters each time we could steal a few minutes alone together. We snuggled up in the chair or my bed and entered the amazing world of Zuckerman's barn cellar.

For A, this was his first chapter book. For me, it was the fulfillment of my lifelong dream of reading classic literature to my children. My favorite childhood memories, without doubt, are of reading books like these with my own mother while my baby brother napped. We even read from the same worn copy I had as a little girl, saved all these years with this very day in mind.

I teared up a few times, and though I edited out words like "murder" and phrases like "he's going to kill you with his ax" I could tell the story got him thinking at times. When Charlotte stayed behind at the fairgrounds, having just created her egg sac and knowing it was time to die, A did not like to see Wilbur and Templeton going off without her. "She'll be all alone" he protested. "She might be lost."

When we read the last words together, A looked at me with a huge satisfied grin and gave me a little snuggle. It was naptime, and we laid next to eat other until he fell asleep, something I haven't taken the time to do in a very long while. He wiggled his nose against my nose, brushed his hand against my cheek, and stared into my eyes until his closed and he slept. He is three years and three months and sixteen days old.

Towards the end of the book Charlotte places five hundred and fourteen eggs into her egg sac. When Wilbur asks what it is, she says of her children, "This is my magnum opus, my great work, the finest thing I have ever made."

Looking at my Growing Up A and Little B, I know exactly how she felt.

Close of the day

Every year around this time it gets gloomy, outdoors and in. When the days start getting shorter and then we turn the clocks back and night falls long before dinnertime I start to feel like the darkness is pushing against me, crowding me into a corner of my soul. I know about Seasonal Affective Disorder, and I've tried various things to fight the mild case of gloominess that sits down in my head each autumn and winter.

But at the same time, I'm well aware that not all dimly lit moments are gloomy ones. Candle lit dinners, carols around the Christmas tree, summer evenings around the campfire - these are some of life's best, most treasured moments. Why shouldn't two months of 4pm Sunsets be the same?

So I'm trying something new this year. I've bought a few candles and placed them in the living room and dining room of our small condo. I've placed George Winston and Fernando Ortega CD's in the player. I've tried to have the house at least a bit de-cluttered to greet the evening, as though the darkness were an honored guest. And I'm beginning a tradition. Each afternoon when the light begins to fade the boys and I walk around, light the candles and turn on the music. We don't start switching on lights. Instead of trying to hide from the dim, I am embracing it, welcoming it, waiting for it.

I am trying to reframe this season. Instead of sadness I am choosing to see the dark afternoons as sacred times. Instead of the walls crowding in on me I am choosing to invite coziness and warmth.

Already I have begun to celebrate the closing of the day rather than dread it. And A has joined in spontaneously - when it is fully dark he brings out little musical instruments and recruits the family for an improv session.

But the countdown to December 21st is on.

Three Books, Three Journeys

I have always said that a good book teaches me something, takes me somewhere, broadens my perspective and changes me - but does so through narrative. So with that in mind you can imagine how much I enjoyed having the respective publishers send me these books in the mail.

The Only Road North by Erik Mirandette

This book - wow. It is the true story of Erik Mirandette, the humanitarian work he did in Africa, the unbelievable (and crazy, if you ask me) adventures he had biking from Cape Town to Cairo, and the horrible tragedy that waited for him there. It is a quick and powerful read, which had the unintended consequence of luring me up to the very early morning hours trying to finish it, while my husband was out of town. I was so traumatized by the end that I didn't end up getting to sleep that night at all. (Note: finish this book during daylight hours, with all your loved ones present).

This book did not read like a book - more like a blog or a documentary transcript. Erik is brutally honest, transparent, and his thoughts and feelings are raw. He promises the reader no ending, no redemption - and indeed he offers none. Yet this was what I loved about the book. The questions he asks and the reality he grapples with are the true questions, the true reality. What endures, now that the book is on my shelf, is an experience we have both witnessed - the unexplainable, dare-I-say-miraculous provision of God...but (in our perspective) only sometimes. To have seen God's hand work so mightily on your behalf, to be so certain that He is there, that He is tenderhearted towards you - and yet to be so unable to convince that same Hand to move when you so desperately want it to.

There were aspects to his tone and attitude that I did not like, but that just further enhanced the sense that I was really listening to Erik himself, a real person, telling his real story. And it is an amazing, beautiful, heartbreaking story - heaven and hell in one, but so too is life.

Found Art: discovering beauty in foreign places by Leeana Tankersley

My hopes were high for this book, since her intention is similar to mine - finding everyday things to be beautiful. However, I was disappointed. It is the memoir of the author's marriage to a Navy man, stationed in Kuwait. I looked forward to her description of this culture, but found few. I looked forward to hearing her thoughts and lessons, but they fell flat. The only poignant chapters were those describing the fear she (and others like her) must always feel, not knowing where their loved ones are, knowing the worst news of all could come at any moment. In these chapters she was concise and powerful. In most other chapters I grew weary of the introspection.

Children of Dust by Ali Eteraz

After reading my way through the entire continent of Africa and the Middle East, this book is the memoir of a Pakistani Muslim who immigrates to the United States as a young boy. The strengths of this book were the descriptions of his life in Pakistan, in Alabama, and his changing relationship to Islam throughout. It was incredibly relevant to our time, as our Western culture is staring down international Islamic culture, even while more and more of our Western neighbors are Muslim themselves. It was helpful for me to see all this through his eyes. He is slightly younger than myself, so it was interesting to hear cultural references that we share (such as watching TGIF sitcoms in childhood) when in so many ways we live so differently.

As he worked to become comfortable with himself and his identity, I grew tired of his attitude and the constant turning of purpose without reflection to motive. However, the ending beautifully redeemed this weariness and more than made up for it.

One critique that remains is that too much of the book describes his relationships with women (I am being vague intentionally to avoid the wrong kind of Google searcher finding me). I got tired of hearing about it, and I know several of you will too. But with that aside, this was an eye opening and enjoyable book. And page 333 has stood with me, convicting me, and encouraging me.

Where to next?

10 month old Cutie, and Brothers in the leaves

These super-cute pictures were taken on a blissful Autumn evening last week just hours before this hit. The memory of this special playtime and the pictures it yielded helped keep me going. Enjoy!

Rarely discussed side effects of swine flu

Little Bee has been working on his first word for awhile now. Its far from perfected, barely even recognizable. But its his brother's name and he says it often. We love that his first word is something so precious.

One good thing to come out of this rough past week is that Little Bee discovered that the baby sounds he's slowly turning into a word also do a pretty good job of mimicking a sneeze. So now whenever one of us does (which is often), he says "Aaaaaaaachoo!" (more or less). Its adorable.

And there you have it. Just as A's first word had two meanings ("hot!" and "honk!"), B's does as well.

But that's not all. You'd think that this sickness and suffering would not be the time when A would give up his afternoon nap, and B his morning nap, wouldn't you?

Well, you'd be wrong.

(What in the world??)

Ode to H1N1

Our noses drip

with the constant rain

outside.

Tissues flutter from our hands,

littering the ground like so many

fallen leaves.

Our fevers rage like the sun

yet our bodies feel only the wind's

icy grip.

Gone are the dog-days of summer

Here instead are the pig-days of autumn.

October, I would embrace your beauty so much more

if you didn't make us all

so sick.

(This is meant to be humorous, but we've had a long week of sickness and we're not well yet. Please excuse me from all the blog posts, emails, appointments, phone calls, projects I didn't get done. And thank you for your prayers.)

Filled to overflowing

The other day I sat and watched Little Bee move, astounded that he can manage to pull down all our books from the selves, all our shoes from their cubbies holes, and all our clothes from our drawer in so little time. And though it takes me much longer to (futility) clean it up again, its hard to not get caught up in the pride and joy he finds in these destructive (to me), creative (to him) tasks. Because he can crawl from room to room, he can sit himself up, and pull up to standing to reach the high things. And he can reach and select and grab and chew. He and I both find that amazing, enchanting.

Watching this exhausting, exciting season of life reminded me of this post. Written the day my Firstborn turned 10 months old, I am reposting it today as my Secondborn turns 10 months old. Looking back I can't believe how much has changed, and how nothing has changed. If I spoke of Fullness then, today I must be Overflowing.

Fullness: originally posted 5/22/07

My heart is full tonight.

It is a hot, humid evening after a hot, humid day. My house looks as thought it has been hit by a major storm and I realize in a very deep part of me that there is truly no use in trying to clean up for years to come; to put away the the books pulled from the shelves, the toys yanked from the toy-box, the shoes thrown out of their cubbie holes, the clothes tossed from their drawers. Just because Mr. Tornado is sleeping right now doesn't mean he won't do it all again tomorrow.

And he won't sleep that long. He packs in 9 hours of sleep a night, then sneaks in a cumulative two hours of nap during the day, if I'm lucky. How can he need so little sleep? He is so busy, I am so behind, so up to my neck in deadlines and work I haven't done and emails I haven't returned and thoughts I haven't processed and phone calls I haven't made and voicemails I haven't returned and errands I haven't run and laundry I haven't washed and food I haven't cooked or eaten.

But there he is, standing up by the changing table, carefully selecting one article of clothes at a time before tossing each one to the floor. And there he is, pulling himself up at the shoe-cubbies, pulling down each shoe, going carefully down the line. And there he is, standing up against the bookshelves, throwing caution to the wind as he undoes all the organizational progress we've made in four years of marriage.

And there he is, sitting on the floor, examining the new textures and tastes of the items he has strewn about. And there he is, remembering that I'm near, crawling over to me. Putting his fingers in my mouth, pinching my nose, laughing at me. Fussing until I pick him up. Screaming until I feed him. Arching his back and scolding me with a string of loud, angry nonsense words if I should offend him with a diaper change.

Precious. The way he shoves Cheerios in his mouth. The way the back of his head and shoulders look when he is sitting and chewing on something, facing away from me. The look of pride and curiosity when his head peaks above the coffee table. The look of slow determination as he examines first one sock and then the next and next and next. Precious. The way he inserts his finger into each and every hole in our house, exploring, bulls eye. The way he reads me the riot act with his blabbering words when he's upset. The way pleasure ripples through him and he turns and bites my shoulder. The way he opens his mouth for something yummy, like a baby bird. The way he chats happily at me. Precious.

Each day is so full of a hundred such images, each one fleeting, each one priceless. Each one spilling over into the next so that I can never find a moment even to file them away in my heart.

There he is, growing up so very very fast. And here I am, watching him, exhausted. Overwhelmed. Longing for a moment to myself, a moment where electrical cords and sharp corners don't need to be foremost on my mind. And here I am, enthralled by him, can't take my eyes off of him, heart filled to the brim and overflowing as I watch him, this person who so recently was the size of a lime in my tummy; who now knows exactly what he wants, and when, and isn't afraid to grab it or scream for it. Ten months old, today. Who has the body and the laugh of a little boy. His own person. My own boy.

I can't sort out the exhaustion from the the chaos from the cuteness from the love and joy. My heart is full tonight.

Autumn Pictures of Two Cute Boys

If you liked these, you can see the whole album here.

Heart Healing

I recently found this post which I wrote during Little Bee's first month and never posted. Now that an amazing nine months plus have passed, I thought it was worth sharing. So, from January 21, 2009 - when A was two and a half and B was one day shy of a month old. Oh, how time flies...

In some mysterious way my heart broke the day that Little Bee was born. The evening before, I put A to sleep at my parents' house, anticipating that this would certainly be the night. Just prior to bed I reminded him that he would be sleeping at Grandma and Grandpa's house. "And where will Mommy sleep?" I asked, testing his understanding. "In Grandma's bed!" he announced. When I told him that I would be going home, and then to the hospital to get our baby out, he collapsed into me with tears, and uncharacteristically clung to me for several moments. Half an hour later I was singing to him "I love you" trying to keep my own tears at bay - knowing that everything was about to change, to be reassigned and shuffled.

And so it has been.

A few nights after coming home from the hospital I was putting him to bed once more. I sang to him a song that I made up for him the day he was born, and told him the story of it. Again uncharacteristically, he was interested. "That makes me happy" he told me, and had me sing it again. He stood up and put his face against mine saying "close to you, with my body" and rested near me for a few moments as I sang. This precious moment was a haven.

When A was first born I fell headlong in love with him and drank in every moment of his newborn softness. I mourned how quickly those early days would pass, but what I didn't realize was that I was immersed not in a baby but in A himself. As the weeks, months, and years did pass I found that each one was the very best, the most precious, and I never wished to be in any moment other than the one I currently shared with him.

But then I had another baby, a baby who was so nearly and yet not at all A. And my heart broke in two and turned upside down and I've been confused ever since.

There's not enough time, energy, hands, laps to give to either of them what all they ask for, all that I long to give. They both seem to be adjusting, even thriving. Its me who seems to be having the trouble.

I miss what A and I had when it was just the two of us, yet at the same time I miss what we had two years ago. As I cuddle and care for this helpless infant I realize starkly that my firstborn is not (except in the rare instances above) at all interested in slowing down for me to hold him close. The days of holding him safely against me have already flown. And being here at this stage again with a new baby brings such memories and feelings of this tiny fragile, dependent age.

As I am getting to know Little Bee better, this is healing, easing. As I know him better I find that my feelings towards and understanding of A settle back down where they belong. Where I can know and rejoice over both my baby boys.

What I am is learning to balance an abundance of blessing and I know this full well - the blessing of two beautiful boys. But are not these the confused love songs of postpartum mothers everywhere? I am singing today's song; I know that tomorrow will bring a new song.

Apple Butter? Apple Butter!

I love apple butter but until last week had never made my own. Since I was having fun with apples I decided to give it a try and it is yum. Here's what I did:

First, I perused through about a dozen recipes, getting a feel for it. Then, I bought a bag of Granny Smith apples. I cored them but did not peel them, sliced them and filled up my crockpot. For me, this took 13 apples. I added about two cups of apple juice.

Then, I turned it on low and...waited. Waited for about 11 hours. I peeked a few times and each time I thought we were nearly there, but I waited. And I was rewarded - when the full 11 hours were passed I had a sweet, brown, delicious mush. The sugars in the apples had broken down into something truly lovely. You know I'm not a lover of the kitchen, but the transformation of 13 Granny Smith apples into something so brown and sweet with nothing but heat and time was inspiring even to me.

But that wasn't the end. I filtered out the skins using my perfectly sized colander (lacking a food mill as I do) and measured what was left back into the crockpot- in my case, five cups. Then I added sugar, cloves, cinnamon, allspice, and nutmeg in proportion to my apples (using the ratios provided in this recipe). Our spices are really, really old but I used whole spices and ground them in a coffee mill that we use only for this purpose. My old spices became new and very pungent spices. If you do the same I would recommend using a bit less than called for.

I stirred it and turned the crockpot up to high. And waited again. Six more hours I waited, stirring occasionally. The last few hours I left the lid off to let the juices cook down. The house smelled great.

And then, nearly a day after I began, it was done. For dinner that night we had bread with apple butter, squash soup with apple butter, and yogurt with apple butter. Then in the morning oatmeal with apple butter. It was warm and fresh and delicious.

We don't have canning equipment so I packed some for the fridge, some for the freezer, and some for friends.

I recommend starting this process in the evening because the first cooking stage can easily be done overnight while you sleep. The second half you need to be present for, and there aren't enough hours in the daytime to fit it all in.

And that's that! A yummy autumn experiment that took a long time but was not hard at all. Have you made it? What did you do?

Originally posted at http://lifeaslyricpoetry.blogspot.com/

Apples! Apple Cider! Applesauce! Apple Butter?

To celebrate Autumn last week we went Apple picking with some friends on a very blustery day. And of course, you can't go Apple picking without doing something fun with the apples. So over the past week our kitchen and tummies have been busy. We don't have the equipment necessary to can, so I only picked and prepared enough for the fridge, the freezer, and some for sharing. Here's what we did:

First, the applesauce. From what I've read and done in the past, it seems best to make applesauce with the skins and core/seeds, then filter them out later using a food mill. I'm not equipped to put too fine a point on it, but basically there is pectin and nutrients and other things which your final product will benefit from if you leave them in during processing and remove them at the end. Not to mention its a lot easier. We don't actually own a food mill, but we live in the Chicago suburbs so I figured one was in driving distance if not walking distance. A quick scan online indicated that all major household stores carried them and they ranged in price and were easily affordable. I had already peeled a few apples but the rest went into the pot as-is. A very proudly did all the washing and stirring.

We filled our dutch oven with apples cut into quarters, and added just a bit of water/apple juice (up to one knuckle on my index finger when I put it in the pan). Then we brought the whole thing to a boil, turned it down to medium heat, and waited.

We spent a nice morning watching our apples bubble, and when I took them off the heat I put them through a wire mesh strainer to drain some of the liquid the apples had let off while cooking. The juice was thick and tasty - we put it in mugs and drank it warm like cider.

And that pretty much is that - or at least, it should have been. I took the kids out into a very cold, rainy, October day to quickly pick up a food mill. Except I couldn't find one. Not here. Not there. I would ask clerks for help and they would say "we have lettuce spinners? And pepper grinders?" No one seemed to even know what a food mill was much less have one for sale. At one point, exhausted, wet, hungry for applesauce and already late in making dinner, I stood in the middle of Target talking with Meijer on my cell phone, while the boys wreaked havoc.

I ended up back home without a food mill, with a pot of yummy smelling applesauce filled with seeds and skins, and no patience left at all. Happily, after trying our various colanders I found one that would strain the things I didn't want and not the things I did. Victory. We ate applesauce for dinner and didn't even have to spend money on a new appliance.

I made enough to keep in the fridge for about a week or so...but it went fast.

So in summary, here's how I make applesauce:

• Start, of course, with apples. I've heard you should use sweet ones, I've heard you should use tart ones. I've never met an applesauce I didn't love, or that didn't get sweet if you cooked it down long enough so the sugars break down. I used a variety of apples for my sauce.
  
• Ideally, cut them into quarters and place them in a pot with about an inch (or "one knuckle") of water or juice to tide them over until their own juices kick in. But if you don't have a food mill, you might want to peel and core them first to avoid making a scene at Target later.
• Bring the pot to a boil, then lower the temp to a slow boil.
• Cook until the apples are soft. Stir them a bit to mush them if necessary.
  
• If you have a food mill, put them through to strain out the seeds and peels. If you really don't like chunky you can put them through a food processor (but not until you take the seeds out!)
• Eat and enjoy! If you made more than enough for dinner, you can refrigerate, freeze, or can the rest.
  

You really don't need sugar or spices, but of course you are free to add those if you like.

I'm making Apple Butter now for the very first time, even as we speak. I'll write about that too once I know how it turns out. In the meantime, here are a few more apple picking pictures...

You should say "Little Lion Cub"

A loves to pretend that he and B and I are animals. The animal of choice changes daily, and in fact, this game is how B came to be named "Little Bee." Whatever we are doing for the day, from the moment he wakes to the moment he falls asleep, he is the Little Bear or Little Bird and I am the Mommy Bear or Mommy Bird and B is the Baby Bear or Baby Bird...you get the idea.

The other night I was standing in A's doorway about to scold him for being too loud when he ought to be sleeping. I started speaking sternly but was interrupted:

Me (sternly): A, you need to be quiet. It's late and you need to be...

A (interrupting firmly): You should say "Little Lion Cub."

Me (not taking the bait): I am not playing games right now. A, if you...

A (interrupting firmly): CUB!

Nine month old (very busy) Cutie

Some of you have noticed that my monthly pictures of Little Bee have dissapeared. Well, when the subject of your photos is a very busy Bee, its hard to get good portraits. You may set everything up just right - perfect outfit, perfect location, but what you end up with looks like this...

...or this...

...but if you shoot long enough, you realize that he's just so cute, more than cute enough to make up for being out of focus and composition...

And after you've taken about a hundred, you might look through them later and find that out of the whole lot of wiggly, blurry pictures you actually managed to get...

But then again, wasn't the journey just as great as the destination?

Preschool at Home, Part 2

In my last post, I explained that A was not attending preschool this fall, but that I was piecing together a "homeschool preschool" for us to fill the long winter. Here are a few more ways we'll be learning and playing in the months to come.

Music Together – The boys and I are signed up for a once-a-week Music Together class. It was important to me that, in lieu of preschool, we have a scheduled reason to get out of the house. This particular class has come to me with rave reviews and being a music lover, I’m excited about it. We're a few weeks in and it really has been fantastic. I think I may rave a bit less about it simply because singing to my boys while I make sandwiches and clean up the toys is just something I do naturally - I'm well known for my (annoying?) tendency to break out into song and dance. But its nice to have some new songs to add to my repertoire and we're enjoying the class very much.

Sound of the Week - It’s already been a full year since A could name each letter of the alphabet and give its’ sound. He’ll often say things like “Hat – huh, huh, huh – hat starts with H” even when the word is not one he’s been taught. I want to move him closer to reading, but teaching the alphabet was the easy part and I haven’t been certain where to go next (especially with so little time just the two of us). I’ve decided to continue to the next level with Starfall, which we loved for learning letters, but primarily use the Sound of the Week. Instead of making a wall poster from scratch each week I've been using a white board – the less prep required, the more likely I am to follow through.

Puggles - I want to incorporate faith into our lessons as well so I was very excited to receive a package of Awana’s take home cards for their Puggles Club. There are 32 cards, each with a very simple lesson, and then five simple daily activities to go with each lesson. For example “God made the sun” is one lesson, with a bit of information about the sun. Then, one of the activities is to go outside and look at your shadow. With enough cards to last the whole school year, the emphasis is on God’s creation, God’s love, and our thankfulness to him. Now that’s a place I where I can start teaching my kids about faith! We’re also still enjoy our two favorite Bible Story Books and I’m about to read a book called Godly Play.

I am also putting together something that I envision will be like the Activity Book, but with Bible Verses. I’ve been busy compiling verses that are simple enough for a three year old to learn and understand, yet which together will form a good faith foundation. This is definitely a work in progress! I’m very much open to suggestions if you have ideas for verses, particularly verses that focus on God’s character, or the shaping of our own character. I've found a few ready-made lists, but not any to my liking. If I ever complete this project (or even make progress!) I may try to post them here.

Also...for those of you who are looking to “Homeschool Preschool” but want a bit more structure, I nearly decided to do the Joy School. I haven’t seen the materials but what I’ve heard sounds wonderful.

So this is some of what we’ll be up to this winter…and another area of my life where I am tying to be intentional, walking with my feet on the ground, staying in the moment to work hard and then rest fully. And I’m still open to suggestions! I’m praying that these days will truly be rich ones for my boys and I as we play and explore life together.

Preschool at Home, Part 1

To be a really good, creative mother you have to be an extraordinary woman. You have to keep yourself involved with your child during great periods of the day when it’s just the two of you and you feel that at any moment you may literally go out of your mind. - Meryl Streep

For a number of reasons A is not going to preschool this year. It was a hard decision to make, though all along I knew what my instincts were telling me and, having made the decision I have never second-guessed it. Without doubt it was the right decision for us.

And yet, another winter like last year’s is not something I think I could survive. Granted, there will be no third trimester pregnancy to endure, no labor and delivery to heal from, no tiny infant and postpartum hormones to adjust to. Instead, come Christmas I’ll have a (can it be?) one year old who can walk on his own feet and even say a few words. This transition on its own renders last winter impossible to duplicate. But not being one to leave any detail to chance, I have been very busy researching things that A and I can do during the long, cold, dark cabin-fever months.

After searching through countless websites, perusing dozens of books through interlibrary loan, and questioning several helpful friends, I’m excited about the things I have settled on. It’s a bit hodge-podge, and I plan to use it all to whatever extent it is helpful, in whatever way it is helpful. A and I are calling it our “Homeschool Preschool” and we’re both pretty excited about it.

A’s Activity Book – For play time I put together a little scrap book with a picture of different toys and activities he can do on his own (mostly) around the house. For example, there’s a page with blocks, another for play-doh, another for trains, another for finger-painting. Next to the picture I have printed the word as well so he can learn word recognition. My hope is that this will help fill those countless winter moments when neither of us can really think of anything for him to do and naughtiness so freely steps in to fill the void.

The Preschooler’s Busy Book – Where was this book last year? I truly almost cried with regret when I first flipped through its pages. With 365 games and activities for 3-6 year olds, I hope to use this when our own Activity Book fails us. My intent is to plan in advance two or three things each week, but also to flip through it during those naughty-prone hours as well.

Slow and Steady, Get me Ready - I’m also very excited about this book. It offers one developmentally appropriate activity per week for the first five years of a child’s life. That’s intense. This will be nice because I can do it with both boys. This may become a baby-shower standby gift!

The activities in all three books mentioned above have a wide range of developmental value – some are for play time, others for reading, large motor, fine motor, math, music, etc. But I wanted to go deeper in a few areas as well.

Stay tuned for Part 2 to see what else we'll be up to! In the meantime, what do you use to fill up the long days?