Update

Nursing school hit me like a ton of bricks. Really. It's ridiculous the time that I DON'T have. 

Beforehand, I thought, "It's an associate's degree, how hard can it be?" 

HA!

Let me just say that after I graduate, I will have the same letters behind my name as a bachelor's-prepared nurse. I will be an RN. I will be responsible for keeping people alive. Because of that, I'm not complaining that my schoolwork is hard. I'm going to have some hefty responsibilities on me when I pass my boards. I need to be prepared. 

That said, let me update you a little on what's been going on 'round here. 

Playing in the mud 

Pumpkin picking

Did some learnin'

Baked

Took a nap

Celebrated some milestones

And studied. A lot. 

I promise to try to keep up a little better! See you soon! 

Summer reading

Upon reading the recommendation of another blogger, I picked this up at the library:

Yes! This is JUST what I needed to hear!

It's okay to cut the kids' TV time to near nothing.

It's okay to not study current events with my ten-year-old.

It's okay that our house is not overflowing with toys. (Really, in the interest of full disclosure, I've never felt the need to have lots of toys around the house. Small house, lots of people... too much stuff makes me feel claustrophobic.)

I really needed a kick in the pants. The last third of my pregnancy with Sam was physically taxing, moreso than with the other four. I relied entirely too much on the television and video games to entertain the kids. It's time to kick that habit to the curb! To that end, I found this website that gives me TONS of good ideas to engage the little ones. I intend to pass these little nuggets out occasionally for Gracie and Joey, when we're desperate. As for Luke (8) and Adam (10-almost-11), they are just fine finding their own entertainment, thankyouverymuch.

Lest I get on my soapbox (too late!), I feel that it's important to say that boredom is not the enemy of childhood! (It might be the enemy of an orderly kitchen, but if I really wanted a neat house I'd live alone.) If a child's every moment is filled with noise - not only the sounds of video games and TV and computers, but the visual clutter of a room packed to the gills with STUFF, and the spiritual and emotional crowding of having an entertainment committee (aka well-meaning parent who schedules every moment) - he cannot exercise creativity and imagination. And we all know what happens without exercise, right? Atrophy. So I'm going to let my kids be kids without the gadgets, bells, and whistles. Boredom is our friend. It forces them (and me) to exercise a little creativity and imagination.

Now someone remind me of that when I'm trying to get dinner on the table and they're all underfoot, okay?

Progress

In keeping with my resolutions here, I've made an effort in the past couple of weeks to cut myself some slack. (And frankly, I think everyone else around here would be happier if I would just chill out and not be so. darn. anal. all the time.)

What I have learned by stepping back a little and changing my perspective:

Water is not that messy.

The smiles on their faces are worth the minute or two that it'll take me to wipe up a couple of overflows from preschool dish washing.

Sometimes I won't get the Perfect Shot of the baby because someone is yelling, "Take a picture of ME, Mom!" (Okay, like I EVER get the Perfect Shot, anyway!)

If you give a five-year-old boy the camera, he WILL take a picture of the toilet.

And that's okay.

Finding balance

Life with a newborn is unpredictable.

Life with a newborn is unpredictable.

Life with a newborn is unpredictable.

I'm hoping that if I keep saying that to myself, I'll cut myself a little slack. That somehow, I'll really and truly believe that the above applies to me.

There are going to be messes that I can't get to right away.

I won't always get uninterrupted time to work on lesson plans. I can't keep a spotless house all of the time. My to-do list will not always (or often, or usually) get done. I need to be flexible. I need to bend. I need to, temporarily at least, lower my standards. I am only one human being. I am not imperfect, or invincible.

I must, MUST keep my eyes (and my attention) on what is important. Making memories. Crafting a childhood for my children that is worth remembering. Communicating to them that they - not the housework, or the bill-paying, or the grocery shopping - are important.

It's such a struggle for me. Maybe it's my perfectionism. I like to be able to point to results and say, "I did that." It's easy to look at a clean kitchen floor, or a basket of folded laundry, or a perfectly balanced checkbook and feel that sense of satisfaction. There is a measurable end, a quantifiable result. Not so with the relationships that I'm trying to build with my children. That is more amorphous, less concrete. But so much more important.

I read so many blogs about women who rhapsodize about the afternoons they spend with their children: crafting, adventuring, creating memories. (I know, don't compare the inside of my life to the outside of someone else's. Yeah, yeah.) It seems those women are always bemoaning their lack of housekeeping skills. That they have all these unconquerable messes. Laundry is taking over the house, junk mail is piling up, the kitchen floor hasn't seen the business end of a mop in more than a month, etc. I envy them their ability to let go of their housekeeping expectations. That's never been my problem. I can keep house just fine, thanks. Sure, I get behind every once in a while, but for the most part, my house can be company-ready in five minutes or less. The facet of life I struggle with the most is being present.

I know that I need to slow down, to savor this time in my life, when my littles are are little, when I have a baby to snuggle. I know that I shouldn't beat myself up about the dust that's gathering on my windowsills, or the fingerprints on the TV screen, or the baseboards that desperately need to be painted in the living room. The most important thing is to soak this in. Soak in the sweet smell of a new baby, the enthusiasm of a new reader, the unending riddles of an eight-year-old. I should play princesses more often. I should read Go Dog Go and Old Hat New Hat. I should build forts and play Play-Doh.

should. should. should.

Stop, breathe deep.

Let the housework go.

Hug your kids.

Go outside.

Smile.

Be.

Random

I've been putting off updating my blog for a bit, because I didn't have anything earth-shattering to say. So to break my writer's block, I'm just going to put a hodge-podge of pictures up here, and let you peek at what we've been up to.

First up: last day of school, breakfast of homemade crepes. Oh. My. Word. These are sooo good.

Joey "reading" to Gracie in her room, before bedtime:

This is what the kitchen table looks like when we color Easter eggs. Notice that Hubby is brilliant, because he gave the kids Easter coloring pages to work on while they waited for their eggs to finish dying.

Gracie played soccer this spring. This wet, muddy, cold spring. I missed watching a couple of games because it was too cold for me to sit at the field with Sam. (The new baby... we named him Samuel Patrick.)

Joey, with his t-ball medal. He was so proud! He's worn that medal around the house randomly for a couple of days.

Blessed...

Frugal Cloth Wipes

I know you've heard me wax poetic about cloth diapers in the past. I love my cloth diapers: frugal, earth-friendly, and so much prettier than nasty plastic diapers. To keep with the theme, I also use cloth wipes. It makes no sense to pay out money for the equivalent of chemical-laden paper towels, and it's just not practical to throw a diaper in the pail and a wipe in the trash. (Not to mention, they can get pricey.)

I knew that I needed to replenish my stock of cloth wipes - the ones I have are threadbare after being washed, over and over, for years. This time, instead of shelling out $5/dozen for some WAHM-made wipes, I decided to make my own. I kept my eyes peeled in the paper for a good sale/coupon at JoAnn Fabrics, so I could make my wipes as cheaply as possible.

And then, guess what I found on Craigslist? A dozen flannel receiving blankets for $5! Just what I needed: cheap flannel! I pounced on those blankets, you can bet! Two of them turned out to be made of something other than flannel, but no worries.

Originally, I tried to cut my wipes 8x8 inches, and only zig-zag the raw edges of two squares together. That didn't work - too much fraying. So then I cobbled this method together:

1. Cut wipes to desired size. (In my case, that's 8 inches x 8 inches.)

2. Enlist the help of a five-year-old to do my seam ripping. (Not that I make any mistakes, mind you!)

3. Sew squares right-sides together with a 1/4 inch seam allowance. Leave an opening to turn wipes right-side-out.

4. Snip the corners to reduce bulk.

5. Turn wipes right-side out, and sew as close to the edge as possible, all the way around.

6. Enjoy the finished product: 38 wipes for $5. (Quite a savings!)

CCCs

Before I had children, I had a picture in my mind of what kind of mother I wanted to be. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to teach my children, and how I wanted the atmosphere of our home to feel. I knew that I wanted to raise them to be good Catholics, to be kind, to know that they were loved, and to feel that their home was a refuge. There were all kinds of little vignettes in my head about different situations, both extraordinary and mundane, that I would experience with them or provide for them. One of these was a little snippet in my imagination of my kids coming home from school to milk and hot chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven, just waiting on the table. Something about a mom who takes the time to make a treat, warm, fragrant, gooey & sweet, called to me.

When Adam was a toddler, we baked together. As each child followed, they learned to pull up a chair to the counter, to cream butter and sugar, to dump in the chips. My kids love to bake, especially cookies. Most especially, they love to bake chocolate chip cookies. It's a tradition that grew on its own, considering that my kids have never gotten off the school bus, plopped down a book bag, and sighed about their long day of school.

The last few weeks have seen all of us come down with a bad case of negativity. We've all been short with each other, not used the kind words that we know are there. Tonight, I had a paper to write for my psychology class. Instead of writing a paper, I decided to contribute to the mental health of everyone and whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

It was a good decision. Something about stirring the sugars and vanilla, measuring the flour, breaking the eggs, something there is therapeutic. CCCs are good for the soul. (At least mine are, because frankly, mine are the best I've ever tasted.) (No, you can't have the recipe. Half the fun is figuring out what works!)

And it worked. Like magic, everyone loosened up. We all stopped taking everything so. darn. seriously. Everyone liked each other again. When Adam yelled, "TASTE TEST!" and ran for the spoons, Gracie and the other boys cheered. Smiles all around. We each had a spoonful of batter. We licked our spoons clean. And I put a batch in the oven, anticipating the homey fragrance that would seal the deal, that would make the good mood stick, that would put us back on track.

Well, hello, Beautiful.

And that is the sight of happy kids. Never underestimate the power of chocolate to make everything better.

Wordless Wednesday

At the Children's Museum:

What they don't get

Please forgive my lack of pictures for this post. I'm writing on the PC laptop, and my Mac has the photo library.

This evening, I had a fun phone call with my mother-in-law. Our conversations are usually peppered with funny jokes and sarcastic comments, stories about the kids and embarrassing things that have happened to us during the week. We share news and stories, laughs and acerbic observations. During the conversation, she shared the comments that several people made to her when she told them that we were expecting, you know, again. I have a pretty thick skin when it comes to peoples' opinions about my life. More often than not, I roll my eyes and mentally sigh about what people fail to grasp about my motives and thought processes. Homeschooling, extending breastfeeding, cosleeping, keeping my boys intact, living a thrifty life, and not using artificial birth control. Those things are puzzling to so many people. When they find out any of those things, I often get, "Oh! I could never do that!" Okay, fine. You're missing out, but do what you want.

But the comments that always leave me scratching my head are the ones about having children. They just don't make sense to me. I really, really don't get what people are getting at.

"They're doing that AGAIN?"

"They're having ANOTHER one?"

"This is FIVE kids? How do they afford that?"

"I just couldn't do it. I don't have the patience."

"Oh, I was so glad to stop breastfeeding... stop carrying a diaper bag... go on a real vacation... send my kids to school... couldn't wait for them to move out..."

Really? I don't get it. How do any of those things - any of those things - compare with having another person in your family? How? Yes, pregnancy is hard. I don't like being pregnant. I don't like the physical limitations it puts on me. I'm vain, embarrassingly so, about my weight. I hate being uncomfortable. But it's what? 10 months long? (Yes, 4 weeks per month makes a 40 week pregnancy = 10 months. Don't get me started on THAT.) Ten short months, compared to a lifetime of having another person in your family. I. Don't. Get. It.

Yes, kids can be expensive. But really and truly, kids don't require much. Parents who indulge every whim do their children a disservice - wanting is a good thing. (I'm not talking about necessities here. Food, clothes, shelter, a stable environment, love - those are needs.) Wanting teaches our kids patience (and who couldn't use more of that?) That's a good thing. My kids have wants, plenty of them. Their needs are met and then some, and many of their wants, too. But who could compare spoiling your child with things to having a brother or sister? How many adults say, "Gosh, I wish my parents wouldn't have had my sister Sally. Then I would have been able to have a Barbie Dream House at Christmas." Huh?

And let's not forget the adult wants: vacations, sending our other kids to college (yes, that's a want), having adult cars and adult houses (you know - Southern Living Catalog, no sign that anyone lives there!), sleeping in, whole days off - all that stuff. But you know what?

It's not about ME, but about US. It's not about this laundry list of things that might be nice to have. It's about love. Pure and simple. How can I look at any one of my children and think, "Gosh, if I didn't have him, we would have been able to take everyone on vacation to Disney last Christmas." Because isn't that the thought process we're following here? That if we have more money and more time to ourselves, we will somehow fill up this well inside ourselves, and be perpetually happy?

As if happiness can be bought with money.

As if money could compare with love.

These children are my investment. They are my happiness. I can't imagine my life without any one of them. When Hubby & I were discerning if it was time to expand our family again (oh, there's a Catholic rabbit trail about being open to life...) the thought that brought us both up short was, "Think about the children we have. Wouldn't you do anything, anything, to have that person in your life?" How can I say no to that? How can I close that door, and actually mean that I would rather have a bigger house/smaller car/more presents at Christmas/nicer vacation/smaller purse instead of a child? How do we come to that place? Tell me, because it's a place I never want to see!

Looking at my children when they sleep, little rosebud lips and flushed cheeks; watching them play together and look out for one another; seeing silly faces at the breakfast table; listening to whispered conversations between brothers after lights out; smelling the sweet smell of a new baby; being squished by bodies on the couch when we read books; how can I give up any of that for a king's ransom in new clothes, pretty shoes and purses, European vacations, afternoons sipping lattes and reading novels?

We cannot fulfill ourselves with things, spending time and money on ourselves, pursuing our own selfish whims constantly. It is only through loving others that we find happiness. I am selfish in this: I want to fill my cup to the brim. I want as much love as I can squeeze into this family. If the cost is mountains of laundry and diapers and sippy cups and Legos, years of potty training and diaper bags, the stretching of my patience and the doubting of my sanity - bring it on! What a small pittance to pay for such a life of love.

My children love the expectation of a new baby. They understand that this is a gift. There is never an impatient, "Again, Mom?" It's always a very wide-eyed, "Really? Cool!" I am so very, very lucky, so incredibly blessed. Thank You, God, for giving me a husband who understands this wonderful mess of children. Thank You, God, for making me able to have children. Thank You so much for sticky faces and dirty socks and gum in my dryer and dishes to wash. Thank You for letting me be a mother, again!

Pumpkin Carving

"Daaad! Joey stuck his hand all the way down there and lost the spoon!"

All hands on deck!

"You wanna touch the pumpkin seeds?"

"NO THANKS!"

All done!

The apple orchard

It's autumn. FINALLY! Anyone who suffered through this hot, humid-yet-rainless 2010 Midwest summer is rejoicing. To celebrate, Hubby took the kids to our favorite orchard to pick apples. I love picking apples. Love smelling apples. Love baking with apples. I love, love fresh apples.

But there were no apples to pick. BOO, HISS! Apparently, the apple harvest was early this year because of the unusually hot weather. Hubby did bring home a bag of apples from the orchard, but I'm sure they'd been refrigerated a while. They weren't fresh from the tree. But that's okay. The kids still got to wander around the corn maze...

No, that's not an apple. That's corn. THE crop of the Midwest. (Is Adam doing the chicken dance in the background?)

The kids and hubby drowned their sorrows in cider slushies. I was jealous. I stayed home, slaving over my anatomy book, and they didn't even bring me home a slushie! (To be fair, it probably would have melted before they got home.)

They'll need a bigger sign, next year! : )

So much to say, so much to say, so much to say

I know I've been gone a while. Sorry. Having four kids, being pregnant, and trying to get into nursing school keeps me hoppin'!

Wait, didn't I bring everyone up to speed? Lemme start again:

1. I've gone back to school. Since a BS in Education won't get me anywhere, I'm working toward an ASN. Hopefully, I'll graduate in May of 2013, pass my NCLEX and become an RN. Pray for me.

Okay, yeah, I know I said a few posts back that one cannot work 40 hours a week and still run a household and parent effectively. I still stand by that, 100%. So Hubby or I will be part-time. (Hopefully, it'll be me. We'll see.) My decision to go back to school was based on a lot of factors. Can we make it on one income? Yes. Do I want to continue to juggle as we have been, since the recession hit? No. We're doing just fine, but I need a little more security, a little more certainty. One of us needs to have a recession-proof job. And one of us needs to work while the other goes to school. It just makes sense that the person going back to school would be me - Hubby has a job (while I would have to look for one, and being with child doesn't exactly endear one to potential employers), and since I have one degree already, my getting a second degree is faster than Hubby going back and starting from scratch.

So, why nursing? I wanted a worthwhile job, one that is more than punching a time-clock. I want to serve. (Coming from an education background, I felt a strong need to contribute.) I want job security for my family. I want a job that makes me think. Nursing offers me all that. It's a technical field, I'll constantly be challenged, be learning, be thinking. It's not a job in which I can rest on my laurels. I need that constant mental stimulus. Nursing is obvious.

2. I'm pregnant with #5. And if I hear one more person ask, "You mean, ON PURPOSE?!" I think I just may scream. Good heavens, people - I have four children already! I know how this happens! (What is it Janet Smith says? "If you don't want to go to New York, don't get on the train!") What ever happened to "Congratulations!" I think the assumption is, since Hubby lost his job in 2008, we are somehow destitute. Not the case, thanks. He's making just about what he was then. We have insurance. Anyone notice that we're frugal? We don't throw money around. It's wasteful. So thanks for your concern, but we're doing just fine. Yes, we live in a 3 bedroom with soon-to-be five children. Babies don't take up much room, I've noticed. We have plans to move, but not until I'm out of school (either by flunking out - KIDDING! - or by graduating.) So the problem will be solved in a couple of years. I like my very small house payment. I know only one other family that pays three digits, besides us. It helps us live below our means.

Well, that sounded rather rant-y, for an update. I'll be back as time allows. Hopefully next time I'll have pictures!

Wordless Wednesday, first day of school