My Concrete Moat

Before we moved out to the sticks, I joked that I wanted a concrete moat around our house.  Now that I've lived here a few years, I think I was on to something.

Moats are meant as deterrents to invaders, and this is exactly what we need.  This summer we endured the ant invasion.  Now, we are suffocating under the blanket of spider webs.  Crickets, bugs with too many legs, and silverfish have our basement under siege.  We need a no-bug-zone between the house and the big woods.

Constantly, we are battling nature.  Beating it back with clippers.  Shearing the meadow with our tractor.  Cowering from the ever present bees.

Looking out my window, the trees look ominous.  Like orks climbing over the fence with battle axes in hand, vines, leaves and branches reach past their boundary to reclaim the land where our house sits.  All around us, the earth wants to return to its wildness.

To the children, this wide open space is delightful.  The 5 year old loves slimy worms.  The older kids love to dig tunnels behind the fence.  Since our large piece of land allows us to care for so many animals, my kids couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

I suppose that each time I go out to fight my windmills I could suit up in Off! armor.  A better idea might be to just push nature back a little further.  Perhaps the kids need a basketball court next to a tennis court, next to a roller rink and shuffle board?  Not only would I entertain the kids, but I'd finally have my concrete moat.

 

Mail Call

All week my 11 and 5 year olds counted down the days until Amazon would deliver each of them their Lego toys.  Intently watching the road, the kids would ask at the rumble of each approaching vehicle, "Do you think that's the UPS truck brining our Legos?"

When Amazon emailed me to notify us of which day the toys would arrive, the excitement could hardly be contained.  Coming home from class meant that the kids ran around the house in case the delivery guy left the package on the back deck.  Every so often I was asked, "Do you think they'll really come today?"

Finally the package arrived.  The 5 year old bought some huge Lego set with birthday money and computer help from her brother.  Honestly, I didn't know what she purchased until it arrived. I still don't understand.  Something about Lego ninjas?

The 11 year old now owns some board game that has additional sets to buy, assemble, and add to this board.  I played a round with him and am convinced that every game I now play with him will always have that whiff of role playing.

Waiting for the kids' package to arrive truly made me feel way out in the middle of nowhere.   At times like these, I do feel a bit out on the prairie. 

Warmer....Warmer...HOT!

Whoever said that the oldest siblings speak for the baby of the family? My youngest waited until he was three to start talking, and, until now, not one of us had a clue as to what he was trying to say.

Perhaps that is because he wasn't really trying to say anything.  Before he began pointing to ask the usual, "What this?" he played with us. Every time he wanted something, he would scream. Then the game would begin.

Not knowing what he would want, we were reduced to picking up random wine glasses, puzzle pieces, or pencils to show him and silently ask with our raised eyebrows, "Is it this? Or do you want this?"

With each wrong object, he played the "cold, warmer, hot game" by screaming louder and louder until he'd burst into unexplainable laughter.  That's when we knew that we had aimlessly picked up the correct item. Of course.  He wanted an ice cube.

With his recent development of parroting everything we say, we are both relieved and a trifle weary.  Relieved that he finally wants to speak....but weary of our names repeated like a machine gun until we acknowledge him.

Ok, so he decided to speak.  Now time for manners.

Ummm, Now What Am I Supposed to Do With All of These Kids?

I'm not a gooey mom.  Other girls are so good at the baby talk or sitting down on the floor to play with young children.  Watching flour puffs plume onto the cabinets and appliances in the kitchen cannot daunt these mothers. I, on the other hand, banned Play Doh until my kids turned 3 in order to avoid the mess.

But in my defense, I've really never been great at knowing what a kid wants. As a young aunt, I loved toting my little niece and nephews to folk music festivals or museums.  They really surprised me by not caring that the musician on stage was performing the songs he wrote.  All they can remember from one such event is the box of Dove ice cream bars that my friend bought them for lunch.

So what's a nontraditional girl to do? Continue being nontraditional.

Home schooling has forced me to spend an abundance of time with my kids.  While others may naturally find ways to hang with the offspring, I need instructions.  How nice that my day is scheduled from 8am until 3pm with a useful game plan, because I can't keep them out at concerts until 2 am every weekend.

We are working together every hour of the day. Breakfast time is Bible time. Reading time is cuddling time. Chore time is, well, it's still chore time. Art time is make-Mom-batty-while-the-house-is-trashed time....and so forth.

But don't think that our day is so structured that we don't enjoy each other.  If you think that, then you are missing my point.  Being with my kids this much allows me to share myself with them better than I would if we were separated 9 or 10 hours a day.  While others have a tight bond with their kids despite the daily separation, I know that home schooling lowers my handicap because now I know how to spend time with my kids.

How to Avoid Running Craft Time

Today we celebrated my daughter's 5th birthday.  Now I like to keep parties simple.  So typically, I throw some snacks at the kids and say, "Just playing with each other is a treat.  Don't expect me to plan crafts."

But miracles do happen.  A glittery sand art project was planned, decorations for their cupcakes were laid out before guests arrived, and goody bags were packed the night before.

I wondered if this is what it felt like to be so organized?  It felt great to have the table set with food and drinks before people arrived.

Everything was humming along nicely until Prudence, our beagle, escaped.  Prudence followed the scent of some small animal that lead her from yard to yard, farther away from our house.  When my oldest didn't come back with the dog after a while, I realized this was my ticket out of craft time.  I hopped in the car to go help fetch the pooch.

Following a few failed attempts to nab her and coax her back to us,  Prudence darted into the thick, thorny underbrush behind a neighbor's house.  We could hear her barks trail off, but we couldn't see her anymore. I asked myself at what point I would just let her go. You know, explain to the kids why we don't have a dog anymore.

Luckily, a woman who runs an animal shelter heard Prudence barking from inside the house where she was pet sitting. Knowing exactly what to do, she sprinted from the house after Prudence with hardly a hello to us.  That rescuer rescued our beagle after a chase through thick thorns, over broken glass, and into the dirty creek.  When I caught up with her in the woods, far from where the chase began, she was muddy and struggling to carry Prudence back to us.

After a solid 40 minutes recovering our dog, I returned home to find kind moms finishing the craft and cleaning up the mess for me.  That's right, I didn't have to oversee little girls spilling sand all over the table and floor.

Following Prudence's hiccup, the party went back on schedule. Yet in less than half an hour after her return, Prudence dug a hole under our fence and was gone again.  After the previous ordeal and near scolding by the rescue worker, I was ready to enact plan B: let her go.  My mother talked of driving the neighborhood with my oldest daughter, but in my heart, I just felt like she was gone.

Again, I was faced with possibility of finding words to explain to the kids why we didn't have a dog anymore. By this time, everyone had left the party, and we were cleaning up. When suddenly, a mom burst through the door carrying our wayward dog.  She delivered one of Trinity's best presents of the day.

Despite almost losing a dog, the party was a huge success.  Meaning, Prudence spared me from having to run craft time.

My five year old with the cupcake that she decorated.

Sowing the Seeds of Love

Curfew? What curfew?  When you are out partying with mom, there is no deadline for fun.

Tonight my oldest daughter and I went to DC where we listened to Lauris Vidal, Andy Zipf, and Matt Butcher perform to an intimate gathering of maybe 20 people.  What an opportunity for my daughter to experience first hand these talented singer songwriters!

Andy and Lauris wowing us

On our way down to the concert, I told her how special being the oldest is.  Realizing that she works a lot to keep the little ones in order for me by bathing them, babysitting them and cleaning up after them, she probably doesn't notice the advantages to being first.

The very nature of being the oldest allows more years for a relationship with kin.  As the youngest, I don't have the list of shared experiences with relatives that my older siblings do.  My limited exposure reduced my opportunities to know them as well because, frankly, some of them died before I was born.

Coming before I was overwhelmed with my adorable brood, I did a lot more activities with my first.  When she was an infant, I didn't stop my youthful lifestyle. She came everywhere with me.  Swaddled and content, she slept to wee hours of the morning at parties.

As she grew, we regularly visited the playgrounds and attended outside classes.  For about 3 hours each day, I read to her. And now as a tween, she's been to way more concerts then I attended at her same age.

Do you think I can drag 5 kids around to parties or concerts?  Do you think we leave the house unless absolutely necessary? Do you think I have that kind of time to read to my kids?

The oldest may have more individual mom-time and unique opportunities that the young ones will never experience.  But as a youngest, I know that the one-on-one time invested in my oldest siblings was reaped 100 fold by influence they had on me.

Field Observations

Loving to provide first hand opportunities for the kids, our home school family is planning to take 2 field trips a month. Typically, we go when the tourists are scarce.

Today at the zoo, we had the park to ourselves.  Really, with so many of the exhibits closed,  the number of animals to see wasn't many.

Despite this disappointment, the kids loved what they did see.  Consistently, the bird house is a favorite because birds fly around a large room that doesn't cage the animals.  In that old, beautiful building that resembles architecture from a Curious George book, the kids hoped a bird would land on them.

At the flamingos, I switched into teacher mode requiring the kids to take turns reading the plaque and asking them questions about the information.  For example, did you know that some flamingos live the cold Andes mountains?

While the kids focused on the animals, I was observing more.  My large group of 8 kids wasn't so strange next to the large Hasidic families, who, despite the heat, covered their appendages in black.  All the women wore ankle length skirts and scarves in their hair.

Of course, they didn't look so out of place next to the Muslim women in berkas.  At least the berkas I saw today were colorful.  Picture a vibrant purple covering everything but a pair of eyes and orthopedic shoes.

The Muslim women might have been covered in fabric, but there were a few rough folks hiding their skin behind piercings and tattoos.  To these, I just harkened back to a time when such fashion statements actually were alternative.

Tomorrow the kids will write reports about flamingos asking Google to show us pictures of their whale-like bristly teeth. Research skills will be honed. Grammar and spelling will be checked. Handwriting will be perfected.

And mom's catalogue of the unusual will stay active to note anything of interest.

Reborn Out of This Mess

Where the are no oxen, the manger is empty,

but from the strength of an ox comes abundant harvest.

Maybe this was Solomon's way of saying, "Oh sure.  You can have your clean kitchen if you never turn the stove on!"


Because we home school, my house is constantly in use, so things are constantly out.  While I would joke that my house is only orderly and clean between the hours of 10pm and 8am, this is in fact the truth.


While the kids are awake, creative juices are flowing.  And for some reason that is unacceptable to me, creativity seems to only thrive in a cluttered environment.


Apparently a child can only get the picture just so if every single crayon, marker and paint tube is not only scattered around the table but also the floor with the caps off, naturally.  


Of course, toys are only more fun if played anywhere but the spot designated for them.  And kids never forget to incorporated into their game those random items that obviously were not meant to be used as toys.


Brushing teeth used to be so simple.  You think that one tooth brush is enough?  Fahgettaboutit. You see, in our house, each child must own 2 sometimes 3 toothbrushes in order to get the job done right.


So while I get a bit batty at times from the clutter that literally breeds faster than both our real and dust bunnies combined, I'm afraid that when I do obtain my clean-house-nirvana, I still won't be content because my little mess-makers won't be here to enjoy it with me.


Instead of pining for a home Martha Stewart would be comfortable in, I think I'll cling to Solomon's sage promise.  Out this ashen mess my children might very well arise to fly away strong due to their happily cluttered but creatively fun childhood.

See how happy they are? That's because the shelves are empty of more toys then they can play with.  The TV is home to some Littlest Pet Shop animals, table lamp is another home, and the scarves from the dress ups are part of the landscape. I just paste on my smile that Jack Nicholson borrowed for the making of The Shining.

"Do I hear pizza for my veggie slices?"

When I was in elementary school, my mom packed a huge vitamin C tablet as the dessert for my lunch.  I did not consider this to be a suitable substitute for hard candy, even though it required a lot of sucking on a really sour tasting lozenge.

Ahhhh, but on the stock market trading floor known as the lunch room, I was able to find an excellent trade for my vitamin C.  Each day, my friend traded either her Hostess Cupcake or her Swiss Cake Roll for those gross lozenges. Honestly, she loved those vitamin C tablets so much that I was able to have a real dessert every day.

At the age of 8, I would've vowed to give my children dessert for every meal. Back then, I imagined my children to be the envy of every other child because mine would have the most sought after sweets.

Except that, well, I grew up.  Just like my mom, I don't want my kids to be eating so much junk.  And since I home school them, they rarely have the opportunity to gloat about some great treat or trade their food on the cafeteria trading floor.

Our lunches might consist of dinner leftovers.  Salmon and potatoes from the night before? C'mon, you'll need to try harder to weird out these kids. Pot roast at noon? Helloooooo,  you've just described a warm, comforting meal on a cold winter day.  PB&Js are usually accompanied by mounds of sliced veggies or fruit.  Some lunches are just sliced fruit and vegetables.

Since we take classes outside the house once a week, my kids do tote along their Doritos and cookies like all the other kids.  But writing this blog entry prompted me to ask the kids what food they trade at those weekly lunchtimes.

You'll be happy to learn that the tradition continues.  My oldest daughter gleefully relayed that she can trade her veggie slices for desserts, pizzas or empanadas at lunch. I'm so amazed that kids still willingly give up their goodies for healthy foods.  As long as kids come together to eat, the stock market of food will continue.

"Stranded dinner for 5; your table is ready"

Oh, dear.  Why didn't I listen to that still, small voice which whispered last month, "Hire someone to clean out the gutters."

My bonsai garden is thriving in this weather.

Perhaps this much water would have clogged anyway in the narrow arteries lining the house.  But looking at the quaint bonsai forrest growing in the rich decomposing slop in the gutters provokes such feelings of regret.  I just stand here with my hands on my hips staring at those gutter-trees.

Thankfully, skipping a gutter cleaning hasn't resulted in any water pouring into the house.  We are cozy inside our dry house.  Still having electricity, music constantly plays while the kids resort to watching movies and playing video games since we can't leave.

Seriously, I cannot leave the neighborhood.  The creek on our road is so swollen that we were turned back after a car had to be towed to safety.

Shoot.  This raining is really ruining my dinner plans. First, flooding on my family's street prevented me from eating there with them.  Now I cannot reach my friends' home.  If I can't reach them, what will I serve these stranded kids?

Tooth Fairy Passover

Passover is usually thought of as a time of celebration. The feast celebrates when the Angel of Death passed over and spared the lives of the Israeli children on the eve of their exodus from Egypt.

Our New Dog

Today was a momentous day for us!  Being good Americans, we officially began our first day of school the day after Labor Day.  Our smooth transition from summer fun to school drudgery was unusual at best and made more extraordinary due to the addition of a dog to the family!

Yes, you read that correctly.   We actually found the perfect dog.

Some of you are in awe.  You might be thinking that our search was quick!  What?  One day they are in search for the Holy Grail of dogs and the next day they've so easily found one?

I can only say that I think a blog post about our search should've been written much earlier.  Within seconds of publishing our post, we received our first call in response to the many emails we've sent out over the last 6 months to Craigslist ads.  Searching for a free dog isn't as easy as you would think.

After factoring the normal costs of shots and neutering and varying processing fees and a whole lot of other what-nots, some shelter dogs were not very affordable. Then there was the screening proces.  While I totally get not wanting to place a dog with the local Michael Vick, I was frustrated at the time needed to screen us because I already knew that I'm not Michael Vick.  Or there was the issue of distance.  Some dogs were located way over on the Eastern Shore of Maryland or other places that I had never heard of before.  When my daughter started asking me how far away Charlestown, WV is, I felt a wee bit hopeless.

Upon answering that lucky call, I walked from room to room trying to find a quiet place to persuade this man that our household of 5 kids wasn't too crazy to add another responsibility.  Having 3 nephews over here only added to our *happy* sounds.

We said goodbye to her previous owner
then brought her to our Labor Day BBQ.

You can't imagine my shock when this dog owner explained he would like to drive Prudence out to our house the following day (Labor Day) because after talking to me he was ready to inspect the home. The following day?  So soon?  And we didn't need to drive to OH only to find out that the dog we'd invested time and money into wasn't a good match for us?

Prudence immediately impressed us with her beauty and calm.  She doesn't bark much (check off my list); she didn't jump on us (check); and she stood there allowing the littles to love her through their poking and prodding while acting like a Senator was filibustering into his third day (check, check, check!!!).

Today's first day back at school was a look into our new school routine.  Being a home school family means that every moment of the day some child is touching Prudence.  The kids cuddle up to her when they read, invite her to join them in the basement where they play, or ask her to accompany them out back for chores.  For a dog who was rescued from neglect earlier this year, I think she has found the pot of affection at the end of the rainbow.

White, The New Purple

On this last day of summer for the school calendar, I'm reflecting on the many adventures my kids and I had over the summer.  We traveled a lot.  We swam at the pool frequently. We used as many coupons from our library reward book as we could.  And this time of year also forces me to face the looming challenge of having to switch out the summer clothes for the fall/winter clothes.

On this Labor Day, the kids and I used
our water park coupon from the library
reward book the day it expired, 
and I didn't wear white.

Being Labor Day, I feel this pressure to box up all the summer fabrics, colors and prints.  Out of curiosity, I asked on Facebook if white shoes are acceptable after today.  I wanted to know if this was the last day of the year to wear white shoes even though I don't own any white shoes.  Unanimously, we all agreed that white can be worn anytime it looks appropriate.


White.  That's an interesting color for clothes, isn't it?  Well, it is for me.  White is such a difficult color for me as a mom to wear.  The difficulty of keeping it clean makes me think that maybe white is the new purple.


It all boils down to what is the most difficult to obtain, right?  The least available becomes the most desirable.  Royalty of old wore purple because that dye was created through tediously extracting the dye from sea snails.  Being expensive to create, only wealthy people could afford to wear it.

Fast forward a few centuries.  A few millennia. Purple? Easy peasy.  Anyone can buy and wear that.  But can just anyone wear clean white?  No way.

In order to keep your white clean, you probably shouldn't watch kids.  Do you have any idea how many times my 4 year old has used my shirt as a napkin?  Seriously, I went around my college homecoming last year with her PB&J smears across my belly since that is at her mouth's height.

Also, I'm guessing that if you are wearing anything white that's clean, you must have an army of laundry maids diligently scrubbing those persistent stains.  Ya think just throwing those whites into the wash will guarantee they come out spotless?

Today, purple is probably being worn more by the tired, working moms who need stains concealed. Purple has fallen a long way from it's glory days presiding at the king's court.  Although it may stil may be court side today but only to have snotty-nosed children spilling their concession goodies all over it.

Wanted: Dog to Watch Animals and Children

Almost daily, I received emails and texts from my daughter who trolls Craigslist for countless animal related posts.  Over the summer, she's searched for rabbit hutches, dog crates and barn cats.  Now she is in hot pursuit of a dog.

Our last dog was a standard Schnauzer who didn't care what orders I gave him.  He drove me crazy with his incessant barking and bad manners.  One day I was too slow to capture on the camera the perfect shot of the dog eating off the highchair tray while my baby ate from the dog dish.

Not only did this dog eat food from off the counter or table, but he scared little children, killed a chicken because of his habit of chasing them, and muddied the floor every time it rained.  Oh, yeah.  I was a huge fan of the dog.


[My daughter would like to clear his name by adding that he loved to play with the kids and listened to THEIR commands.  Additionally, he only attacked the chickens out of boredom.]

Hoping to avoid many of the friction points with the last dog, my daughter is searching for a dog who will protect the chickens and rabbits that live on our farm while living in harmony with the cats.  This dog must not jump the fence and run away daily like the last canine.  And finally, he must be sweet with the children.

Is this too much to ask for?

I really don't think she is asking for too much because I would also like to add to that this dog should nanny for me like the Newfoundland dog, Nanna, in Peter Pan.  So, if I'm looking for a dog to nanny the kids, I think I'll take a cue from Mary Poppins and place an ad for our nanny-dog like this:

Our Shoe on the Prairie...

Our shoe is actually a gorgeous home in the suburbs, but, really, it's the amount of animals cycling through this place that makes it feel like a farm. We've tended 37 chickens, 20 rabbits, 1 dog, and 2 cats. We also share our home with countless ants, bees and spiders, but those aren't really welcome guests or beloved pets.

My children make this house worth it. Although people only see 5 of my kids, there are others yet for me to meet. Without my kids adoring this place, I'd be like Eva Gabor who pined for Park Avenue in Green Acres. Because of them, I'm willing to put up with nature with minimal whining. So even though I could do without the bugs and creepy crawlies, a few frightening run-ins with nature allow my children to have an awesome life out here in the big woods or the prairie or the country or whatever you want to call our 2 acres in the DC suburbs.