there's something you should know...

Cooking with my two year old is easier than cooking with my seven year old. This isn't even the slightest bit of an exaggeration. It hadn't really occurred to me to let Channing "help" but he was incredibly whiny all morning and I really needed to make lunch so I plopped him up on the counter and let him dump stuff in and stir. And for the first time in my seven years as a parent, cooking with my child was kind of enjoyable. It brought me more joy than frustration, more peace than stress. This was a whole new concept for me. I would tell him, "Stay there. Don't touch," when I walked to the cabinet for another ingredient. And heavens to betsy, he actually obeyed. He sat when I said sit. He kept his fingers out of the bowl when I said don't touch. Sure, he got slightly overzealous when he was stirring but with a little bit of help, he got the idea. It was darn cute, his chubby little hands copying his mama.

When I cook with Bennett, there are all kinds of repeated warnings and stern commands and frustration (on both of our parts) and neither of us is having much fun. He absolutely cannot keep his fingers out of the bowl. He still has trouble following directions. He dumps before he's supposed to dump and he's constantly putting things in the bowl that aren't supposed to be in there. It's slightly easier with Dawson but not much. I always see moms posting things about cooking with their kids and I've always wondered what I was doing wrong. Turns out I wasn't doing anything wrong. And for the most part, neither was Bennett. He was just being the very active child that he is. There is so much of his behavior that's extremely difficult to deal with in certain settings. (If you're new around here, not to be confused with my Spirited Child, Dawson. Bennett is laid back emotionally. He's just always been demanding physically.) But the longer I parent, the more I can see the big picture and realize that for every difficult part of their personalities, there's an equally amazing aspect that comes along with it. He may not have much self-control, but that boy is braver, tougher and stronger than any kid his age I've ever met. He's so incredibly smart and kind and is going to be a fully functioning member of society whether or not he can exhibit enough self-control at age seven to cook with his mom.

My brother, Graham, shared this article the other day and this portion of it jumped off the screen and hit me square in the heart:

One day I watched a nine-year-old boy as he led a group of children scrambling over Vasquez Rocks, a great sandstone formation that slants up out of the California desert. He was one of those magnetic, electrical, radiant boys; kind to the younger ones, strong, quick, inquisitive, sharp as a tack, his eyes throwing sparks in the clear air. It was a joy just to watch him, I said to the friend standing beside me. She told me he had just been diagnosed with ADHD.

When you see children who do not learn well in school, they will often display characteristics that would be valued and admired if they lived in any number of traditional societies around the world. They are physically energetic; they are independent; they are sociable; they are funny. They like to do things with their hands. They crave real play, play that is exuberant, that tests their strength and skill and daring and endurance; they crave real work, work that is important, that is concrete, that makes a valued contribution. They dislike abstraction; they dislike being sedentary; they dislike authoritarian control. They like to focus on the things that interest them, that spark their curiosity, that drive them to tinker and explore. 

Reading that made me so thankful that God brought the information before me and gave me the insight that I needed to make the best decision for Bennett's education at this point in time. We've never had him tested for ADHD but it wouldn't surprise me at all if he had it. (In fact, I'd be surprised if he didn't.) There's sure to be some frustration this school year on both of our parts but I'm fully confident that he won't be saying "I hate school" every day like he was last year. I read a comment on someone's Instagram several weeks ago that kept running over and over in my mind. The person that posted the photo said something about missing her sweet baby girl when she was napping. And someone commented that "that was the sign of a good mommy." I know she didn't mean anything by it, but wow, did it hit me the wrong way. I never would have commented back to that person with how it made me feel. She doesn't know me and like I said, I know she didn't mean to upset anyone by it. And if I've learned anything about the internet over the last few years, I've learned that constructive criticism or any disagreement needs to be said face to face. If it can't be said face to face, it probably doesn't need to be said. (But supporting another mama that's feeling criticized? Yes. Always, yes.)

But what I really wanted to say to that mom was that I haven't ever missed any of my children when they're sleeping. Ever. Like, not even for one half of a second. I've cheered and thrown a parade in my mind when they've gone to bed sometimes. I've felt a cringe of disappointment when they've woken up sooner than I expected. But missed them? Never. And you know what? I don't think that means I'm not a good mom. I think that means I have very VERY demanding children. And that I'm using up every shred of my energy to parent them with love and patience (and sometimes I royally stink at that part but sometimes I do pretty darn good.) I wanted to ask that mom if she thinks a mother of a special needs child misses them when they're sleeping? Or the mom of a colicky infant. Or the mom of three boys who often spends three full days a week as a single parent because of her husband's work schedule. Or the mom of a soldier who's been deployed for a year and is parenting four or five kids by herself. I'm pretty sure all of these women relish every second of naptime and bedtime and are still rockstar mamas when their babes are awake. I think a mom who misses her baby when she or he is sleeping has a very easy baby. And I'm glad for them. I'm not bitter towards them or envious of them. (Ok, maybe a teensy weensy bit.) I just know that I'm stretched a lot further than a lot of moms. But that in turn gives me characteristics that I'm thankful for. It has also given me an incredibly grace-filled perspective on others' parenting journeys. 

More grace, less judgment. (I'm working on this one. It's a daily battle, people.) And fewer assumptions that any child's behavior is directly linked to the way they're parented. Often times the nature is much stronger than the nurture. And so much of their nature, when nurtured correctly, will be seen as a strength as an adult. In the meantime, I'd really like a padded room with a jungle gym for my seven year old. Or perhaps we can just rent out some space at the zoo...

My Journey to Homeschooling

I wrote about what led me to my decision to homeschool here but I'll recap it for any new readers. (And for all of my friends who forgot since, if you're like me, you don't remember half of what you read or hear in the first place. I blame the children for that, because, duh.)
I always thought homeschool might come into play at some point with at least one of my kids but I always thought it would be way down the road if any of them really started struggling in middle school or something. And only if I was really desperate. I wasn't exactly against homeschooling young kids but I definitely didn't think it was the best choice. I thought of all the things they'd miss out on if they didn't go to school with other kids and that always seemed more important. Plus, I loved elementary school. Well, at least through first grade. And fourth. The other years were questionable. I still don't think of it as the best choice. Just like every other area of parenting, I've learned through the years the best choice is whatever feels right for you and your kids after you've learned their individual personalities (and your own) and educated yourself on both sides of the issue. I have a difficult time with people who fall on one side or the other, thinking their side is the only option and everyone else is making a mistake. Same goes for every other hot topic, stay-at-home mom vs. working, vaccinating, breast feeding, co-sleeping, the list goes on. Let's just keep cheering each other on because we all have the same goal: raising great kids who love others and love the Lord. The rest, as they say, is just details.

I actually made the decision to homeschool Dawson for at least Kindergarten and 1st grade about two years ago, back when I read Bringing Up Boys by Dobson (good arguments, but still not convinced I wanted to give up eight hours of free childcare five days a week) and Raising Cain by Dan Kindlon. (Done. Decision made.) And since half my friends don't read books ever and just want me to recap them, I'll give you the gist. The all day classroom is not designed for a typical boy. Most girls thrive. Most boys don't. Boys at that age just can't possibly be expected to sit and focus for such long hours. They're constantly reprimanded and feel like they don't measure up. The very active ones will start to hate school and will be turned off from learning for the rest of their lives. (Sounds dramatic, but ask my husband. His response when I brought it up? "I hate learning." And its true. He never reads and has zero interest in learning something new unless it will benefit him directly.) Both books strongly urge parents to homeschool until their boys are 7 or 8. At the time, I had a baby and a very very difficult toddler so I knew homeschooling wasn't an option for Bennett starting in Kindergarten. He was also incredibly smart and I felt like he could focus for long periods of time. (Ha! Yeah....on a screen.) Well, Kindergarten went relatively well for him. I hated that he had to go all day and he definitely didn't LOVE school but it was mostly good. Well, then things started falling apart in first grade. He had trouble socially, physically (sitting still and concentrating for all the desk work) and academically. (He was ahead academically and wasn't nearly being challenged enough, despite the teacher doing everything she could.) He started crying most mornings before school and would beg me to stay home. There were many emails exchanged and meetings with his teacher and the guidance counselor last winter.
I went to a meeting for moms who were considering homeschooling back in early spring, thinking I was going with Dawson in mind. I left that meeting knowing without a doubt I needed to homeschool Bennett for second grade. The longer I sat with the decision, the more certain I was that it was the right one. We talked about it a lot and he was really excited about the idea.

Now that most kids are starting school again here in Des Moines, I've been feeling nothing but relief that I'm not sending him to public school again. Here me loud and clear on this one though. I do NOT think sending your kid to public school is the wrong decision. Quite the opposite. I think its a great decision for a lot of kids, particularly girls. I just know without a doubt its not the right decision for Bennett this year.
Am I overwhelmed? Not yet. But I probably will be as soon as all the curriculum books start arriving in the mail. I'm excited to get into a routine and get it all figured out. If I have clear direction on what needs to be done when, I can make it happen. I was a hard core BabyWise mom and my babies and I thrived on that consistent schedule. But if there's no clear direction for me, our days fall apart very quickly. The weeks we had things on the calendar this summer, like VBS or swimming lessons, went great. The weeks that were open ended were....not so great. So I think having structure, yet freedom, will be great for our family.
Since everyone seems to ask me, I'll share about curriculum I've chosen. I actually contacted the Christian school that we plan to send them to in the future (and I know that decision will become clear when the time is right) and asked what they use. I'm using most of the same stuff for Bennett so that way, if he goes there the following year, he'll already be on the same page. Literally. Its Bob Jones for English/Grammar and enVision Math. I'm going to use Handwriting Without Tears since I've heard so many great things about it. I'll pick my own books for reading and will add some history and geography in there somewhere. And social studies. I don't even know what social studies is but I'll google it or something. Do we need PE? I think we need PE. Mommy/son yoga sounds good. I've been wanting to start. Ok...now I'm feeling overwhelmed. I signed him up for an after school hours Spanish class that will go for six weeks and then a Science class for four weeks after that through our community schools. I'm really excited about those. I think they'll be great supplements and also something to get him out of the house. And he told me, "I've always wanted to learn Spanish!" :) I'm not joining an official co-op since I want our schedule to be flexible and since Dawson will be in afternoon preschool. But I do have a group of moms I'll meet with at least once a month for different activities and lessons. I also had the option of reporting to a teacher throughout the year (she would do a home visit monthly) or just doing it all on my own. I opted to have a teacher come. I figured as a first timer, any extra help and direction will be beneficial. Its nice to know that I don't have to do that every year though, if I don't want to.

So here's where I ask you for any piece of advice you have for me as a first timer. I think I need to make up a bunch of busy bags for Channing, or else I'll start to rely on the tv too much. I'm not too terribly worried about him since he's my calmest boy, physically speaking. I think he'll be easily entertained with some toddler activities. Let me know if you have a perfect, not-too-sticky homemade play-doh recipe.
Cheers to a new school year. Fresh starts always feel good. But I'm not cheering for fall. Don't even say that word around here. Its still summertime. We just happen to have some schoolwork to do.

Just keep swimming

I think this is the longest I've been away from this space. It makes me a little sad. You can blame it partly on the Braverman family who's keeping me company most nights via Netflix and partly on sheer exhaustion and mental fogginess. And I've gotten so far behind, I don't even know where to begin. It's kinda like when my house gets so messy I tend to just do nothing, which helps zero times. And by nothing I mean wander around aimlessly and occasionally throw an article of clothing from the pile on the bed to the pile on the floor and maybe toss a random Lego toward the other pile of random Legos. Focus and drive are not things that come easily to me. Take right now for instance. Am I talking about blogging? Parenting? Cleaning my house? I have no idea.
Moving right along. (As if we were actually going anywhere.) This phase of my life is called Survival. With a capital S. I hate survival mode and the guilt it induces, particularly since this survival mode has been going on for the better part of a year. When does it stop being survival mode and turn into just all around crappy parenting? Don't answer that. Or do, if you were ever in survival mode for a full year. You see, I have a lot of things working against me. An incredibly difficult season of marriage (we're working towards normalcy but it's a slow process), a husband who travels approximately a third of the time, living by a public pond with my three monkeys (ie: they can't ever go out to play alone.), a very very active and impulsive seven year old, a four year old who's recently reverted to very difficult behaviors and a two year old who cries. A LOT. But! And it's a big but. I have something far greater working for me. And that is the power of Jesus Christ. If I didn't have his grace and hope, I would surely be in a loony bin by now. Or there's a strong chance one or more of my children would not still be alive. (I kid. I think.) So I keep on plugging along, clinging to the hope that He will pull me through. And receiving so many blessings along the way from sweet friends He's recently placed in my life. I want to love like some of my friends have shown love to me.
I have several things I want to blog about-- Bennett's 7th birthday, my first solo road-trip with all three boys to my parents' in Memphis, 4th of July...but for now I'll just throw a few cute pics up here and call it a blog post. These are unedited, straight out of the camera, because it's past midnight (per usual) and I'm just going for finished, not perfection.

Bennett has always been tough to reign in due to his extremely high level of activity and lack of focus. (Wonder where he got that?) But he's always been my easiest emotionally. Up through year five, he was pretty much always happy (besides that torturous transition into being three years old). Not much could get him down. The boy exudes joy. But year six and now seven have brought lots of pouting and grouchiness and sometimes outright tantrums. Its so hard because you just want to yell at him, "Your life will never get easier than this right here. EVER. So quit pouting and enjoy every blasted minute of it!" But that probably wouldn't be very effective. So I make it a priority to end the day reading aloud to him, just him and me. It tends to redeem whatever went wrong and the day ends on a really good note. That hopefully outweighs all the other sour notes.

We were making a lot of ground with Dawson's behavior but it has severely reverted lately. Its exhausting and heartbreaking and sometimes I fee like calling my husband and asking him to quit his job so he doesn't have to travel anymore. But then somehow I make it to bedtime again and the quiet night air refreshes my spirit. 

Last night before bed he said, "How do the sun and moon go up and down and up and down and get to China?" I had him repeat his question a couple of times and then did my best to explain how the moon gets to China.  

Oh, my sweet baby Channing Jude. How does one tiny human person evoke such extreme emotions in such a short span? I go from steam coming out the ears, cursing in my brain one minute to giving you butterfly kisses over and over the next minute wherever you ask me to (I always laugh when you want one in your hair). You scream the loudest and you giggle the hardest. You are such a mystery to me still, with your extreme stubbornness, your cautious and shy nature and your tender heart. I'm hoping that the more you learn to speak, the less you'll feel the need to scream and cry. My saving grace is that, unlike your brothers at that age, you haven't learned to climb out of your crib yet. I'm keeping you in there as long as possible. But the bad news is, you're nearly ready to drop your nap since some days you don't fall asleep at all and you're having a really hard time falling asleep at night. 

I'm not sure the point of this late night ramble but to say I'm here. Surviving. Breathing deep most of the time and asking for forgiveness when I don't. The moment I take my eyes off of Jesus is the moment I feel like I'm drowning. I'll end with this quote from my Streams in the Desert devotional I keep re-reading, hoping it'll sink in fully at some point:

a {big} update

A handful of things you might care to know...

I talked about our decision to move here. We sold our house sometime in January after just four showings. But then it fell through. And then it was back on again. But we still didn't have anywhere to move. So I didn't really talk about it much. We've also been walking through a very hard season of marriage, so frankly, the house stuff was the least of my worries. Selling a house and moving is usually a HUGE thing for people but its funny how it's barely been a blip on my stress radar. But lo and behold, our moving date is next week. Sooooo...probably time to start talking about it. It's also probably time to start packing. But I'm so close to the title of World's Best Procrastinator. I'm somewhere around third or fourth place overall. But I think by waiting to pack a single box until a week before our moving date, that will seal my title once and for all. I dare any of you to challenge me. I will dominate you.
And where are we moving, you might ask? For now we're moving into a three bedroom townhouse that's almost directly across the street from where we live now. (I'll probably just start chucking things across the street, rather than packing it all up.) Ideally we'd be moving into our perfect home in the woods, just a few minutes from my in-laws, but God's holding us up. The lady hasn't sold it to anyone else (it's been quite a long, drawn-out, process trying to acquire that property) so we're crossing our fingers that one day it'll be ours. Until then, we continue to look at pieces of land further out in the country. I just really, really (REALLY) don't want to live half an hour or more away from my in-laws since we're such a close-knit family and are at their house all the time. Trusting God fully that He'll lead us right where He wants us at just the right time. In the mean time, I'm pretty excited to down-size. For the past four years we've lived in a very comfortable home. Not too big, not too little. But this past year, as I've taken on more and more of the household responsibilities due to Jon's schedule (and our little caboose has taken on more and more responsibility of making messes), I've become increasingly overwhelmed to the point of sheer misery. It's always a mess, all the time. And I hate it. So I think this is a small way of receiving grace from God in this area. He's giving me a more manageable place for this difficult season. Also, I was itching to repaint the entire first floor of our home to something lighter and brighter, but was having a hard time wrapping my mind around accomplishing that with three little kids, so this gets me out of that too! ;) Now I can have a fresh start with decorating. 

(Random pictures for a random post. Seeing these compared to these, makes me want to get out my big camera again!)

A little Bennett story for you. He cut a chunk from the front of his hair several months ago because he wanted to "look like Dad". But when the time came to actually chop off all of his beloved curls, he chickened out (Phew!!). So we waited and waited for his patch of hair to grow back out in the front. It finally did. A couple days ago he got into some Silly Putty that I had hidden away. He knew he wasn't supposed to have it. He got a chunk of it stuck in the front of his hair. But instead of confessing, he decided to just CUT IT OUT. Because I certainly wouldn't notice a giant chunk of his hair missing right in the middle of his forehead. Y'all, this is no surprise coming from him. He's 6 3/4 and still a very destructive kid. He means well but his little hands never stop. He has a lot of love but he also has a lot of energy that isn't always focused correctly. (Hence, a huge reason that boy needs woods to play in. He can go to town on some logs, rather than on his hair and clothes and bedding and all the other things.) His punishment was no screen-time for a week. That's his kryptonite. His weak spot. I'd been wanting to cut way back once the weather turned anyway, so this was the perfect lead-in to that. Yesterday was five days in (five days that have been much more peaceful, mind you. Turns out that not turning the TV on at all is actually easier on him than watching for three hours and then having to turn it off.) and guess what he said to me? "Mom, I'm actually kind of enjoying this. I might just do it for two extra days." I about fell off of my chair. Glory to the highest, peace on earth, good will to men. I might have cried tears of joy. And if I didn't, my heart surely did. Lesson learned. Thank you, Jesus.

On the subject of Bennett, another major life decision I made recently was to homeschool him next year. He did well in Kindergarten but this year, in first grade, things sort of all fell apart. He begs and begs me to stay home and has shed a lot of tears before school in the mornings. I think it's a combination of things, physical, mental and emotional. Mostly, he's young (a June birthday, one of the youngest in his class) and he's so high-energy so having to focus for such long periods of time isn't easy for him. He's also bored. (I know....this can be a cop-out. But so many of the papers he brings home are things he knew when he was three or four. I know this is playing into it because he really enjoys the days when he's pulled out for advanced curriculum.) I think there are other emotional issues with other kids and teachers, etc. It's been breaking my heart hearing my joyful, smart boy saying he hates school.I'm also not keen on some of the language skills and attitude he's picked up from his peers. Dawson will be in four day preschool next year, so my goal is to just homeschool Bennett for a year, make it as fun as possible, reignite a love for learning (Lord, help me!) and then transition him to the Christian school for third grade. But if we love it, we'll just keep going. No pressure either way. If it ends up being horrible, we'll just switch to the Christian school half-way through the year. I decided a long time ago I was going to homeschool Dawson for Kindergarten and 1st grade (to avoid what happened to Bennett) based on the advice from Bringing Up Boys and Raising Cain. I really challenge you, if you still have a preschool aged son, to read Raising Cain before making up your mind about school. At the very least, look into Montessori options or half-day Kindergarten. But first grade is such a transitional year, that's going to be the toughest one. 

Dawson's still my hilarious, passionate boy. Full of surprises every day. He's still very tough to deal with at times, and get's into the "Red Zone" (a term from Raising Your Spirited Child, that he understands and we talk about a lot.) when he's using a baby voice and usually flailing around and completely unfocused. But if he's not too far gone, I can usually use a few calm words to help him identify it and he'll get himself back to the "Green Zone". (Only after a year of work, is this possible.) Sometimes though, we still have major tantrums and meltdowns that we deal with as best we can. He and Channing clash a lot these days and he's most at peace when he can play by himself, completely uninterrupted for long stretches. 

He's always had heightened senses and being too hot turns him into monster child. He'll start flailing and kicking and screaming and crying and is nearly inconsolable. This winter I learned that he would have to wear his coat to the car but once inside the car, we'd have to take it off. I can't tell you how many times I had to pull over to remove his coat halfway home because he'd get overheated and would absolutely lose his mind (while the rest of us sat comfortably). And since the weather has warmed up, he's already been complaining that the car is too hot and it's only 60 degrees outside. I think I'm actually going to have to buy a clip-on battery powered fan for the car. I don't think either of us will survive the summer without it.
Channing is at such a fun and equally horrible age. His vocabulary is really picking up and he's starting to communicate better. His fit throwing is altogether hilarious to watch sometimes. I've never had a child throw themselves face-down onto the floor so much. Sometimes he does it with just an unhappy little grunt and lays there in silence. (But sometimes there is A LOT of screaming happening. That's not hilarious.) The last week or so, he's had considerably fewer tantrums and I'm praying it sticks. He's taken up wandering out of the yard, though. I actually had to call 911 last week when I was helping Dawson take off his coat and boots inside and by the time I went back out to grab Channing, he was nowhere to be found. And it was cold and windy. He was gone for about twenty minutes total and was found by a bus driver, who knows where. He passed him off to the police before I got to them.  It was horrible and scary and left me feeling like the worst parent ever. Let's move on, shall we?

He's been a tough nut to crack. I see glimpses of such incredible tenderness, it makes me melt. I took Dawson and Channing for a long walk in the woods yesterday. At the end, on the way back to the car, Dawson kept running ahead. He had a bright blue shirt on, so I kept my eye on him (honestly....I do watch my kids most of the time. ;) but I kept having to shout at him to stay within my line of sight. He was way ahead of us for quite some time. And when we finally caught back up to him, Channing squealed with delight and went and hugged him. He always starts whimpering in empathy when either Bennett or Dawson is really upset about something. It's so sweet to see. But boy, is he touchy around people he's not completely comfortable with. He's incredibly shy and slow to adapt to new situations. He has a hell of a temper and is by far my pickiest eater. But it's interesting noticing the subtle differences after having raised a spirited child like Dawson. Its so hard but yet, it's different. Not as intense. His tantrums don't last as long. And if he's being outright naughty, he'll actually respond (some of the time) to a very stern voice or firm squeeze of the hand (or a very, very occasional spank.). All the things I could never say about Dawson at that age. So I have hope that as his vocabulary increases, his screaming will decrease. 

Taming of the Shrew

Our normal school mornings go something like this: the big boys wake up around 6:30 and head downstairs and turn the tv on. I stumble down bleary eyed (after staying up too late and getting joined in bed around 3am by a four year old) and head straight for the teapot. (English Breakfast with milk and sugar.) I usually find a handful of granola bar wrappers and applesauce pouches strewn about from the snack the boys have helped themselves to. I make them oatmeal then go upstairs to put on my makeup. I stop to pull some clothes out for Bennett (he doesn't mind at all if I pick his clothes but if I go tell him to get dressed, he comes out in his favorite tank top and flip-flops.) then yell downstairs for him to come get dressed. Stop to yell at him at least two more times because he "didn't hear me". Go back to putting on my makeup and getting dressed but stop ten more times to remind him to stay on task (ie: stop fighting with his brother/watching tv/playing legos/making faces at himself in the mirror) and tell him what he needs to do next. And there's almost always a frantic three minutes where I realize he still hasn't put his socks and shoes on and he's about to miss the bus so I'm grabbing coat/gloves/backpack for him while simultaneously asking him what the heck he'd been doing and pushing him out the door. I'm stressed and he's extremely unhappy and possibly in tears. 

Please tell me this sounds familiar. 

I've read Love & Logic, which is all about giving your children responsibility for themselves and stepping out of the way. I knew I wasn't doing Bennett any favors whatsoever. There was one time that I printed out a checklist for him that I was going to laminate but I think that was half-way through the previous school year and I never got around to it. You see, there's this thing that happened to me that took away the last remaining shred of organizational abilities that I had and it's called a third child. (Well, to be more specific, when said child turned mobile.)  In case I wasn't completely sure that I was failing my children, I got this card from Bennett at Christmastime. It's taken me this long to get up the guts to share it because it's that bad. 

"Dear mom, I hope you have a great day. I wish I could change your life to a happy life." 

I felt like I was punched in the gut. 

I can't even explain how convicting that was (although I'm sure every mom out there can imagine). My grouchy mama self wasn't just peeking out here and there. She was hanging around enough that that's who my six year old saw me as. Let's just say for the past fifteen months or so, I've been a little off my game. A LOT of single parenting plus a very difficult season of marriage plus a toddler who is very clingy and fussy....

This is a common sight these days:

and two half-grown monkey boys who tear the house apart daily in record time does not bring out my best self. I've been trying a lot harder since The Note to laugh more and be silly more and play more with them. But there are still the rushed school mornings and very rough evenings when I'm single parenting. 

Yesterday morning I handed Bennett a to-do list and a pencil. It included everything in detail that he needed to do before school (including put yesterday's dirty clothes away, which without a doubt were still on his bedroom floor.) 

He grabbed the list without even a whimper of complaint and..... drum roll....did it all. In a rather timely manner. And he was out at the bus stop in plenty of time with a smile on his face (and on mine!!). Also, since I wasn't having to stop 32 times, I was actually dressed and ready way earlier than usual. And, *gasp*, Dawson was early to preschool. Like, so early he was in the building, with his hands washed with about 3 minutes to spare. I was standing around with the other early parents thinking, "Huh. So this is normal for all of you." I kind of felt like someone should have started a slow clap for me. The whole morning was SHOCKINGLY different. It was almost laughable. Why in the world did that take me so long to figure out??? Well, whatever the reason, I am singing praises that the morning battle is over for the foreseeable future. 

Another little thing that has helped in bringing out happy mom started last week when we got to the media chapter in Jen Hatmaker's book, 7 (which is only $2.99 for Kindle edition, by the way). I was looking forward to this one because I knew my "boundaries" (I had some but didn't really follow them) for my phone use were not working. So I set my phone aside for a full week. (The first few days I found myself checking the weather app multiple times because I didn't know what else to do.) I got a lot more done and I played with the kids way more than usual. I also went to bed earlier.

My problem is, I'm an all or nothing kind of person. I knew I needed to come up with a way to drastically limit time on Instagram that I could actually stick to for the long haul. I love Instagram. That has become such an important community for me and I have so many dear friends on there. Friends who encourage me in motherhood and point me towards Christ. Friends I now text and talk to on the phone and exchange snail mail with and several that I will meet at a women's conference in Dallas at the end of this month. I really wasn't willing to give it up completely.
I had the idea to delete the app when I'm not using it. If I get on once in the afternoon during Channing's nap or to post a photo, I'll delete and reinstall it once the boys are in bed and then delete it again after that (by 9pm!! I'm putting that out there so you people can hold me accountable). It sounds like a pain but it actually only takes about 20 seconds to install and another 20 seconds to log in. It has completely removed all habitual mindless use of it. It's really working for me and maybe it'll work for you too.
I also read a great blog post by one of my favorite IG'ers (@kristinrogers) but I can't find it right now. The great takeaway I got from it was to quickly snap the shot, then put your phone away and rejoin the moment. You can edit and post it later. No one cares or knows if they're all latergrams! I really liked that idea. Probably seems obvious to some but I hadn't thought of it before.
Motherhood is hard, folks. Like, crazy hard. I hit my bed every night like I spent the day in basic training for the Army. Physically exhausted and emotionally drained from three tiny drill sergeants in my face all day long. But I want those little drill sergeants to remember a peaceful, happy home and a mom who laughed way more than she yelled. I'm thankful for God's grace and forgiveness in my own life and I'm so thankful that every day is fresh in God's eyes and in my children's eyes.
I'm weary, Lord, but that's where you step in. Let me love these boys in a way that would point them back to you. Let me choose my words and tone of voice carefully in order to build them up. And let me selflessly give up time and energy to serve my family, rather than myself. And may I stick out the remainder of this wretched winter with grace and dignity. Amen ;)

That one glorious 50 degree day.....

Dawson lately

Several months ago I was at my wits end with our second-born child (which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I guess my wits don't really ever end. Because I'm there all the time). I had been praying for wisdom a lot. I needed some kind of breakthrough. I felt like I'd tried everything and had been praying over him nearly every night for the past couple of years or so. "God, help Dawson to be kind and gentle and loving. Fill him up with joy and peace." (And then one time he had a baby sitter named Joy so every time I prayed that, he'd interrupt me and say, "where's Joy?" :) God must have put a little bug in my ear (He's good at that) because this book title popped into my head that I had read about at some point and I went and looked it up on Amazon and just bought it. I don't buy books. Like, ever. If its not at my library or a loaner from a friend, I don't read it. But for some reason I was desperate enough and forked over the $9.78 and downloaded it onto my Kindle (the one I never use. Because I don't buy books. My father-in-law got it for free and gave it to me. So I don't feel too bad not using it.)

This book changed. my. life. And Dawson's life along with it.

First- let me say a HUGE apology to every mom with a fit-throwing toddler out in public who's parenting skills I was so quick to judge. Little did I know that it is so NOT about the parent but nearly ALL about the makeup of that child. We carried Bennett screaming and crying out of a public place ONCE when he was three. And I thought that had something to do with me. Ha. I needed a large slice of humble pie. By now, I've eaten more than my fair share. (I suppose that goes with the territory of motherhood, doesn't it??) Which is why I wholeheartedly agree with the statement that parenting is so much more about teaching us than about us teaching our kids.

If all of these words describe your child, please get a copy of the book, Raising Your Spirited Child, TODAY: Intense, Persistent, Sensitive, Perceptive, Difficulty Adapting (And the bonus traits--your spirited child may have some or all of these. Dawson has all of them: Irregular, Energetic, First Reaction is negative to anything new or different and Moody). (If these traits describe your child but you'd score them a 3 out of 5 or lower on a few of them, then they're probably just spunky, not spirited.)

This book helped me turn all of the negative labels I had for my child and switch them to positive ones. And to realize that all of the characteristics that made him so difficult to parent at 2 years old, will be celebrated when he's an adult (if directed in a healthy way). It also made me understand that he sees/feels/smells/hears things differently than an average kid. He literally has heightened senses, which makes loud, busy, crowded places a nightmare for him. I've learned what is likely to set off a tantrum and how to possibly avoid it. (He still has tantrums. A lot of them. But they're shorter and more sporadic. And I don't feel like I want to run away from home anymore.)

 All smiles. When he's ready:

(He started preschool a couple of weeks ago. Blogging time is hard to come by these days. And he's in 3yr preschool because his birthday is Sept. 14th) 

Life with Dawson is still very challenging. But thankfully along the way I've been learning that it's actually possible to stay patient and calm when your child is screaming their head off and trying to hit you and bite you and throw anything within reach at you. My patience goes a whole lot further these days. I still lose it with him occasionally (like when we're running late or when my husband's been out of town for the third night in a row) but God is really changing me in this area. I've also learned that its ok to remove him when he's out of control and hold him and hug him and whisper to him instead of trying to force him to stay in time-out for an hour (which I'd done before. Many times.) The balance of discipline with him is very hard but I just keep doing the best that I know how to do. And to accept judgment or advice from other moms who don't have a spirited child is fruitless. So if you are a friend to one of those moms, give her a bit more grace. And let her know that you know she has a hard job. But that she's the perfect person for it.

The biggest thing I've learned this past year is that when you have a spirited (or even just a spunky) child, you get a big dose of the hard stuff but you get an equal dose of the amazing stuff. You get a child with so much feeling. Dawson went through a phase last year where he'd compliment people on everything--"I like your hair, Quinn!", to his cousin. "I like your dress, Mom!" when I was wearing something other than sweats. "Cool trick, Bennett!" as he'd watch his older brother flip around the house. He's always had incredible manners, saying "please" and "thank-you" without any prompting. He also has a HUGE imagination and can get lost in play for at least an hour all by himself (when brother isn't around to interrupt him). He's quick to make friends wherever we go, not shy at all on the playground. But if we walk into a room where there are a lot of adults he doesn't know, he'll completely panic and freeze up. He's literally gripped the door frame with all his might before, and held on for dear life. (The complete opposite of Bennett. Bennett has a hard time being brave and making the first move with new kids, but if we walked into a large room full of people, if there were at least a couple of familiar faces or he didn't have to leave my side, it wouldn't even phase him.)

Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood has been such a great show for Dawson, because he can easily identify with the way people feel. He's extremely empathetic. One morning I was lamenting about our new table. One of the boys had spilled a bunch of water the day before so one of the boards on the table had started to lift up a little. Dawson started singing the Daniel Tiger song, "If something seems bad, turn it around....and find something good!" He's so in tune to what people are feeling around him, it's amazing. While Bennett is extremely smart, he's usually in his own little world. Dawson, however, feeds off of every emotion of the people around him. It's very important with spirited children to not let them sense your stress because they will become extremely irritable. (A bit of an impossible task as a mom!)

Once he got stickers placed all around his frame, he pointed to the row at the top and then the bottom and said, "Mom, this is the rain and these are the bow."

A big challenge we still deal with is that he doesn't sleep through the night. He did up until he was three and we moved him out of the crib. I knew it would be a hard transition with him. Little did I know a year later he'd be sleeping on the floor of our room because at least then I can get to him more quickly when he wakes and can settle him back down right away. Not always, though. Sometimes he's awake, sobbing uncontrollably for 30 minutes at a time or more. Its not night-terrors. He's just a very light sleeper and has an impossible time settling himself back down once awake. And when he's tired, he's just so emotional and unreasonable. I'm not sure why we didn't have this problem when he was in the crib. But that's typical of life with him. There aren't straightforward answers to much of anything. According to the book, nightwaking is very common with spirited children. I just figure eventually he'll outgrow it. And I'm learning to tell myself in the middle of the night when I get woken up and feel so frustrated that its an opportunity to act out sacrificial love. I continually have to give up the idea that I deserve a good night's sleep. I'm working on being selfless, even at midnight when I'm just settling into a really deep sleep. It's taken me a long time to get there. But God is gracious with me and my slow progress. Plus, I suppose this is just payback since all three of my boys were sleeping 12 hours a night by 12 weeks ;)

* Dawson loves to ride his scooter. Fast.

* He hates to lose a race to his brother. (And everything's a race.)

* He loves to go to the library as much as Bennett does and he loves to be read to. One of his favorites is Richard Scarry's, The Best Word Book Ever.

* He's a good eater and isn't afraid to try new foods (he'll always refuse it at first and then we sing the Daniel Tiger song, "You gotta try new foods 'cause it might taste good!" and then he'll always accept a bite and usually likes whatever it is and then gobbles it down.

* He still loves King Kong and T-Rex but now has a new obsession with Indiana Jones. 

* Dressing up is still his thing. (look up the hashtag #superdawson on Instagram and you'll see several of his best-dressed moments.)

* We haven't done any organized sports with him yet (I think its a bit crazy to start that before five with a child who's prone to meltdowns) but he's very anxious to start. He'll definitely be our athlete. 

I am so thankful for this boy, who stretches me and teaches me and exposes my weak spots. I am a better person now than I was before he was in my life. He has always been the child who has caused me to lean on God the most. And that is a beautiful gift. 

I take my boys to the library.

We are so blessed and fortunate to live almost across the street from a fantastic library. I used to think I decided this house would be the one because of the nice white woodwork and great layout. But maybe subconsciously it was the proximity to so many books. :)
We've been going to the library on an almost weekly basis since Bennett could walk and talk. I signed us up for a Wee Read storytime when he was just 9 months old (And saved his nametag from it. Oh, the things you do with your firstborn!!).
As the years have progressed, there have been seasons where its been really easy and fun and seasons where its been hard and and slightly stressful. We never do storytimes anymore. But we keep going.

There was the time when Bennett was just barely three years old. He was recently potty-trained. I was at the library with him and baby Dawson and my three year old niece, Piper. Well, Bennett had an accident. I took him into the bathroom and stripped off his wet pants. I was standing there, wracking my brain, wondering what in the world to do and how the heck to get my naked child back out to the van without too much embarrassment (since of course I didn't have any extra clothes or diapers with me. I've never been that mom. That mom we're all thankful we're friends with when we run out of wipes/diapers/snacks/you-name-it.) Bennett and Piper are giggling at Bennett's nakedness and then they TAKE OFF. These two three year olds, one who's white little hiney is out in all its glory, laughing hysterically, bolt through the library towards the front door. I frantically grab Dawson and the stroller and the pile of wet clothes and speed walk/run after them, trying (with utter failure) to ignore all of those stern librarian eyes burning into me, wondering what sort of heathen children I'm raising and why in heaven's name I would dream of bringing them into their quiet sanctuary of a library. I have never experienced humiliation like that in my life. I seriously thought, "I can never step foot inside that place ever again."

But then we did. And I just pretended like it never happened. And thankfully I didn't see any whispers and pointing fingers. I survived the mommy humiliation. (And I'm sure, for a while, I had an extra set of clothes with me.)

Right now, Channing's at the age where he's much more interested in pulling books off the shelves than reading them. (We try to leave him at home with Daddy whenever we can.) And sometimes my boys dump puzzles out faster than I can make them pick them up and pull every puppet off the rack and start playing tag between bookshelves and get way too loud reenacting a T-Rex/King-Kong battle with the puppets. And sometimes I'm super stressed out and grouchy with them when I'm trying to get all of our books checked out and get the H-E-double-hockey-sticks out of there. But we still keep going back. And we still love it. And most of the time they can follow the rules and use library voices.

I had a friend ask me once, "How in the world do you do it? Taking my kids to the library is the most stressful thing I can imagine right now!"

I just get really good at ignoring judgmental glances. I'm only partly kidding. The thing is, I have wild boys. I have boys that are loud and run more often than they walk and who leave a trail of messes everywhere they go. But I also have three boys who love books. As active as they are, they will always sit still to be read to. And my six year old told me the other day that reading books is his "most favorite thing in the whole wide world". (But only because he momentarily forgot about video games).

Y'all, I'm not trying to make you feel bad if you never take your kids to the library. I suck at a lot of things. I constantly feel like I'm failing my kids in a whole lot of areas (Too much TV and not enough teaching of the Word, to name a few.) But I hope my kids always love to read. I hope they always get excited over a stack of new books. I hope they read so they can keep learning even when they're 30 and 40 and 50. Maybe they won't. I'm sure my mother-in-law read to my husband all the time when he was little and he hates to read now. But I will do my darndest (and risk further humiliation) to make it stick.

Channing lately

I happened to get some new pictures of Channing the other night so he's up next. I still need to get some new ones of Dawson.

Well, gone are the days of my super laid-back, barely ever cries, and stays in one spot baby. When we're at home he cries. A lot. :( I had him all to myself on Bennett's first day of school when Jon took Dawson to an amusement park all day and we had the loveliest day together. I enjoyed him so much. Mostly because I could actually sit down with him and give him my full attention when he got fussy, rather than ignoring him while I'm doing three other things at once as he crawls after me, grasping at my pant legs.

Oh, and yes. You read that right. I said, crawls after me. He is 17 months old. He'll be 18 months on the 28th. And he's not even close to walking. Like, hasn't even taken one step. The Dr. said if he's not walking by 18 months they'll send a therapist over to evaluate him. Am I worried? Not really. Am I slightly annoyed and impatient? Yes. People always say, "Oh, but once he's walking, look out. Just enjoy it now while he's not so mobile." But that's so not true. Once babies can climb up and down stairs and stand up to reach into drawers and cupboards, that's when things get crazy. Walking means I don't have to carry him everywhere. Walking means we could go to a park or a field or anywhere outdoors without him scraping his little hands and knees through dirt and rocks and woodchips and rough cement and sand. Its gross. I can't even picture him doing it though. He definitely seems way younger than other babies his age because of it. Which I suppose is kinda nice. Prolonging this baby thing...

He sleeps great at night. He's usually in bed by 7:30pm. Some days he sleeps straight through til 8:30. Some days he wakes up around 6:45 and I give him a bottle (Yes, a bottle. Don't judge until you're on your last baby. And he still crawls and tricks you into thinking he's not even one yet.) and then he goes back to sleep til at least 9. He generally takes a nap every day around 12:30 for about two hours but twice already this week he completely refused it. Just cried in there forever until I went and got him up. And today he only slept for an hour. He dropped down to one nap at 10 months (my other two had two naps until 15 months) so I shouldn't really be surprised that soon he'll probably stop napping completely. Lord, help me.

I'm trying to figure out his personality. He was the sweetest baby who hardly ever fussed. But now he certainly has opinions. About a month ago he sprouted a temper. (Wow, right about the time Bennett grew an attitude. Fancy that. Lots of moody boys around this house.) He figured out how to scream when he's mad, usually relating to some food I'm not willing to give him, with clenched fists and everything. He hates having his diaper changed and yells and squirms unless I find him something to eat while I'm doing it. So I'm not sure if he'll end up laid back and sweet once he can communicate a bit better or if he'll end up spunky. Bennett was the easiest to parent at this age because he was speaking so early and because he had my undivided attention. It makes my heart ache to watch old videos of him and realize how simple and sweet (and relatively stress-free) life was then. Makes me wish I could raise one child up all the way and then start over with another one. But then of course we'd miss out on all that sweet sibling love. And we certainly wouldn't be forced down on our knees daily, crying out for strength and patience from a gracious God who's ready and waiting to provide it. And we'd keep on judging those mamas out and about who snap at their screaming children impatiently, at the end of their rope. Now I'm that mama. And when I'm out alone, I sorta want to give all those other mamas a hug and just say in solidarity, "I understand your frustration. I'm right there with ya. And I'm not going to tell you to enjoy every moment because it goes so fast. Cause there are a lot of moments that just aren't that enjoyable. You'll make it til bedtime. I promise. It might not be pretty. But you'll make it."

Other notables-

• His vocabulary started exploding the last few weeks. He's catching on to different sounds more quickly now. He'll say 4 or 5 animal sounds, 'mama', GG (his great-grandma), 'ball', 'baby', 'bebe' for blankie, 'book', 'down', 'more', 'uh oh', 'hi', 'wow', he's been signing 'please' for a couple weeks and said the word today...I'm sure there are a few others I can't think of. He's currently sitting at my feet pretending to talk into a calculator like it's a cell phone. And it just dawned on me that phones look a lot like calculators now. Funny. 
• He's now obsessed with books and loves to be read to and spends a lot of time looking at them by himself.
• He gets super excited when he sees dogs outside and any other picture of any animal. The other day in our backyard, he waved at every single car that drove past and every dog that walked by.
• He's an expert mess-maker. Just like his older brothers, his favorite activity is unloading the contents of a cupboard or drawer. Actually, Channing's more of a rearranger. Bennett and Dawson would throw everything out. Channing's always moving things from one little spot to another. Mommy's bathroom has been a favorite with all three of them. 
• We figured out he has a wheat allergy. He's had the worst eczema of any of my boys. Bennett's and Dawson's cleared up immediately when we eliminated dairy but Channing's didn't. This summer, the tops of his feet were constantly scabbed over and bleeding from the irritation of all that crawling. He also had pretty bad diarrhea every day. When I finally got the nerve to cut out wheat (the boy wanted to eat bread and crackers all day long), his eczema cleared up and his poop went back to normal. This would have been a lot more intimidating but I've been on a gluten sensitive diet for at least a year now (for my complexion, energy level and I don't have sensitive, blood-shot eyes all the time anymore) so thankfully I'm sorta used to it. It'll be weird once he starts preschool to make other people work around it. Hopefully he'll start outgrowing it by then. We'll see. 
• He still sleeps with his little blankie and sucks his thumb at night. 
• He is such a mama's boy but thankfully he'll let me leave him with Nana and Poppy or a babysitter. He just wants to be with me if he sees me. When I pick him up from church nursery, he usually bursts into tears and starts to crawl towards the door so fast and furiously, as if I'd left him with complete strangers for days on end. 

Here's a video I took a couple of days ago. He wasn't even saying mama consistently then so it surprised me when he said it. (And yes, I'm aware that his doggy noise sounds more like a monkey. I think he has a chihuahua in mind when he makes it.) Also, forgive the awful lighting. I don't have a reversible camera on my phone so I was recording it blindly. I wish you could watch Channing watching it. He's watched it 20 times since I recorded it and its hilarious to hear him say all the words right along with the recording.

Bennett lately

Last year...

This year....

What? No! He barely changed at all! I have no idea what you're talking about. (*sigh*)

Its painful trying to get a natural smile out of this boy lately. Every time Jon would make him laugh he'd bend over. 

 Sheesh. He looks 12 here.

We had his "meet the teacher" time the day before. When we walked into his new classroom, he had his arms around me and was hiding behind me a little bit. That was the only time I got a little choked up. It was so nice to feel like he really needed his mama still. But as soon as he saw all the familiar names on his class list, he warmed up right away.

I wrote about sending him off to Kindergarten here. I am SO thankful we have that behind us. This year was about 1000 times easier. I was definitely sad to see him go back since he wasn't too excited about it. But I know he'll be just fine. I now know that he can take care of himself at lunch. And no, he doesn't always get his mouth wiped off but that's ok. And he's such a friendly kid, nobody's picking on him....yet. I know he'll tell me if something happened at school that upset him or made him uncomfortable....if I lay down with him at night and ask him. And some day I hope to hear about him sticking up for some other kid being picked on.

They do pretty well out there without us, mamas.

Some other updates about my oldest:

• When he turned 6, he grew an attitude. He's really good at huffing and puffing and being disgruntled about things. Its not a pretty picture we're painting for the teenage years.
• Jon's working with him on tying his shoes. He likes things that come easy for him and doesn't like things that don't. So we're taking it slow. He still can't ride a two-wheeler but that's mostly our fault since we don't get it out much. (Our driveway and street are pretty sloped so we have to go with him down the block to ride it.)
• We've gone on a video game fast with him (iPad, smartphones, etc.). The boy is addicted and often copped some serious attitude (or completely blew a fuse) when we told him it was time to turn it off. So for the time being, his only "screen time" is TV. Not sure when we'll reinstate the iPad but life's more peaceful without it. Maybe we'll save it just for car trips.
• He loves reading chapter books with me at night (I read to him and every now and then will make him read a page). We've read through quite a few together. We started Wayside School is Falling Down last night and he loves it. I think these are going to be a favorite. 
• The boy is still fearless. He loves to see how high he can climb anything. But if there's not some serious adventure involved, he'd rather be inside. 
• He does, however, play outside with the neighbor kids constantly. There are usually 5 or 6 of them that end up on our trampoline every single night. They have so many made up games and stories. I hope we always have the house that all of his friends want to congregate at :) 
• He's always sort of been in his own little world. He's an internal thinker and processor and absolutely an introvert. He's extremely forgetful and quite sloppy. He wears his meal on his shirt every time. He only cleans when he's highly motivated to so I've gotten better at making sure they clean up before dinner or TV time so it doesn't get completely neglected. 
• However, when there's a job to be done for someone else, he can be such a hard worker. Jon's taken him along a couple different times when he had to go help someone move or clean something up and Bennett won't stop working the whole time. 
• He still has the tendency to destroy things constantly. He can't sit on the couch without knocking all the pillows off. He takes pillowcases off his pillows before he falls asleep at night. He knocks things off tables just for the heck of it. When he was younger, every time he'd walk past the hand towel in the kitchen, he'd throw it on the floor. He breaks things in half or tears things up without thinking twice. Thankfully he at least knows not to tear or break valuables now. Most of the time. This has to be the most frustrating and mind-boggling aspect of raising a boy.
• He has such an intense bond with Channing. He absolutely adores him. He was so sad to go to school last Friday because Channing hadn't woken up yet. Every single morning that I bring him downstairs, Bennett yells his name and runs over to hug and kiss him. (And Dawson follows suit so we get mauled.) He plays with him and reads to him constantly. 
• He's such a bright kid, and at the risk of sounding like "that mom", I often worry that a public school can't challenge him enough or meet him where he's at. He'll start some extended learning for a couple hours each week at school this year but its hard to know if that's enough. I know a blogger who's son is in a French Immersion school in Kansas City. I wish we had options like that here. I'm open to homeschooling down the road but not yet. It would be a total disservice to my children to homeschool right now. There's only so much I can handle as a mom and that is certainly beyond it. If you're a parent of a gifted child and have any advice, throw it my way! 
• For the last year or so, every time all five of us are in the same room, he'll comment that "our whole family is here!". I love that he loves to be together.