Nature Walks with Young'uns

As part of our Charlotte Mason homeschooling approach this year, I've scheduled in some regular nature walks with the kids.  It's just every-other-Friday right now, alternating with our homeschool co-op's meetings.

So far - with the exception of one ill-fated trip through some uncharted and very hilly woods the day after a huge rainstorm wherein all my kids became truly convinced that we were utterly and irrevokably lost and all four of them began bawling in terror - it's been quite lovely.

After the aforementioned incident, I've learned to keep it small, and keep it simple.  So far, I've picked little patches of forest that I'm already familiar with near our home.  I live in Pennsylvania, afterall, so *all* the nature is forest.  And it's quite hilly around here, which means most of these forests also have a creek running through the bottom, which is awesome for exploration.

Each of the kids carries a backpack containing a nature journal, a pencil, a water bottle, and one piece of fruit to snack on.  I usually sneak a few tree or bird identification guides into the big kids' backpacks as well.  I wear the baby in the Ergo, outfit myself in what my husband calls my "combat boots," and off we go.

We just take a leisurely stroll down the paths we find, and I encourage the kids to notice certain little things I might see or hear.  But for the most part, they are much more observant than me.  It must come from being so close to the ground!  On even the most seemingly ordinary stretch of path, the kids can find plenty of things to keep them interested - spiky seed pods from a sweetgum tree, a decaying log, some ever-pervasive shelf fungus...

It takes a little while for me to get in the "mood" of the nature walk, so to speak.  But after twenty minutes or so in the woods, I feel myself starting to calm down.  To breathe more easily, and loosen upand just let go of my tensions.  It's truly rejuvenating for my soul, and I find myself longing suddenly to move out of the city and live a simple quiet life surrounded by the outdoors.

I've found it best to keep the length of the walk pretty quick.  Maybe forty-five minutes total.  That's short enough that the kids aren't too tired, and their curiosity hasn't been burned up.  At some point aferwards - though not always the same day, as I'd prefer - I have the kids draw a picture of something we saw in their nature journals, and then they dictate a little description that I write for them.

For all my talk of wanting my kids to approach science firstly through a love of nature and by using personal observations of the world, I know never would have built in the time for this in our schedule had I not been trying to give Charlotte Mason's education approach a fair trial.  It seems like such a simple thing - a short walk in the woods every now and then.  But I've been so amazed at the things the kids have noticed and learned, and the spark it has ignited in their minds.

7 Quick Takes (Vol. 39)

-1-

August is a big birthday month for our family.  We have my birthday (today), then Stella's birthday tomorrow, and Sly's ten days later.  I wish we were all more spread out throughout the year, so we could celebrate each person better.  It's hard to make the time and effort to throw each of us our own shindig.  And we can't ask Tom's parents and sister to drive out to us two weeks in a row for the kids' parties.  So for as long as I can get away with it, Sly and Stella will continue having combined birthday parties.  So far, no complaints from them!

-2-

I admire the fun themed birthday parties some parents throw for their kids - which seem to get increasingly creative and elaborate each year (or maybe it's just the Pinterest effect).  They're fun, kids enjoy them (I think?), and some parents mothers really get a thrill out of planning them.

I find myself somewhere in the middle, though.  It can turn into more stress than its worth, at least if the kids aren't old enough to really appreciate it.  When Sly turned one he had a rubber ducky-themed party, and when he turned three and Stella turned one, they got a Beatrix Potter party (the in-between year was when Stella was just born, so Sly's birthday just got tacked onto Stella's baptism party).  So I decided that unless one of the kids is really itching for a particular party theme, I'm just going to make things easier on myself, and not do one.  I asked Sly what he wanted at his party.  He said, "cake, balloons, and party hats."  Just Good old-fashioned birthday stuff.  And you know what?  That's plenty to make a kid completely happy!

-3-

 So the kids' "theme" this year is going to be just that: "Good old-fashioned birthday"!

It will be easy on me, yet still festive.  Colored balloons, two cakes, ice cream, party hats, party blowers, plastic tablecloths, paper plates, maybe pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey (?!).  It will be so uncommon that it will seem like a novel idea, right? 

Anyways, the kids are only turning four and two years old, so it doesn't really matter.  They'll love it no matter what.

 -4-

Myself, on the other hand, will be turning the big 3-0.  Yikes.  I haven't given much thought to the fact of rolling over another decade.  But something tells me my thirties will fly by much more quickly than my twenties, which seemed to last an eternity.

-5-

So do you want to see what we're giving Stella for her birthday?  Because I'm so excited about it!  It's an Ergo doll carrier.  It's even the same fabric as my real Ergo that I use to carry Linus (and Stella herself, sometimes, when she really needs to settle down). 

I have visions of us going out in public with me wearing Linus, and Stella wearing her doll in her little matching carrier....and the crowds just fainting away from the adorable-ness....

-6-

I have finally found a foolproof way to make vegetables taste delicious (and not just palatable).  I grew up with a very limited veggie selection.  Pretty much just green beans, peas, and corn (which is really a grain anyways).  I've tried for years to expand my palate and get myself to like more vegetables.  But it's hard to develop the taste for some of them.  I'm fine with most things if they're cooked into a soup, stew, or casserole.  But most days, a big ol pile of soggy (i.e. boiled or steamed) veggies as a "side dish" is just not appetizing to me. 

But I've discovered roasting them.  I just cut up some veggies (whatever I have in the house - beans, broccoli, onions, brussels sprouts, peppers, mushrooms, etc.), mix them with some olive oil, salt, pepper, and spices of my choosing.  Then I stick them in a 450° oven for 15-20 minutes.  Absolutely amazing every time!

The trays of vegetables are in the background.  The vat of olive oil and the pound and a half of bacon were for another portion of the deliciously fatty meal I was cooking ;-)

-7-

I found this down in the basement the other day.  Just in case I wasn't sure who it was that transferred most of the cat's food to the water dish, the culprit helpfully left some evidence at the scene of the crime...

Quick Takes is hosted at Conversion Diary

Big Messes at the Museum

Disclaimer: 

If you don't like hearing stories about dealing with bodily functions (i.e. being a parent), then this one isn't for you!

We have friends visiting from out-of-town, so yesterday, Tom took the day off work and we all went to the museum - five adults and seven kids under age four. 

Linus and I managed to sneak off on our own for a bit to look at a new exhibit I wanted to see in the art museum while the older two stayed with Tom and our friends in the natural history portion.  By the time I caught up with them, Stella was already done.  She was screaming her head off, and not willing to do anything.  Tom and I decided to split off from the group for a bit and take the kids to the children's area where there are fun things they're allowed to touch and hold, hoping she would calm down.

Soon after sitting down in there, Linus got to work making an enormous diaper, and soon began crying himself.  Because I hate carrying diaper bags around, I usually bring only the bare necessities: one diaper apiece and a small pack of wipes.  I could tell Linus was ready for his one allotted diaper, and maybe Stella was too, so I started looking around for a good place to change them.  Normally, I would just find a handy bench or corner and change the baby there, but the docents at the museum have eagle-eyes and do not let you pull stuff like that.  Plus, it was going to be a stinky one, and I knew I might need access to a sink.

I asked the docent in the children's room where the nearest bathroom was, and he told me to go down the hall and down the stairs....hmm, that wasn't going to work out well with the stroller.  Stella had started screaming again, and by this point, we had literally cleared out the room.  The only person left was the young male docent, awkwardly eying the family with the two screaming children, unsure what he could do to help.

I took Linus out of the Ergo carrier - which I left hanging off my waist - so I could bounce him around more effectively and try to calm him down.  Between his cries and my huge exaggerated bounces, I was attempting to explain to Tom - who couldn't understand me well because he was holding the screaming toddler - that we needed to go find a bathroom and get the kids' diapers changed.

And then: the explosion happened.  Linus finished up that diaper he'd been working on in one tremendous blowout.  Baby poop was all over the place.  It was covering my hands, my shirt, and absolutely dripping down the inside of the Ergo.  It probably got on the floor too.  I don't even know.  I just said, "We have to go NOW!" and took off, catching just a glimpse of the docent's shocked and fearful gape.

We all hurried to the elevator, but it wasn't arriving fast enough.  "I'll take the stairs with Linus!" I said.  "Meet me outside the bathroom!" I followed the signs for the bathroom as I ran down the stairs - they took me down several floors.  When I finally got inside, there wasn't even a baby-changing station.  But at least there was a little table I could work on.  Women and their daughters kept coming in and out, and it was making me more flustered.  As they squeezed around me standing there at the table, they all took a peek to see the disgusting mess I was working with.

Linus had to be totally stripped down.  His onesie and diaper went into a plastic bag I'd brought, and I cleaned him up with some the rest of the pack of wipes and put his one clean diaper on.  I didn't have a spare outfit for him.  Sorry, baby.  I was anxious to start scrubbing down my shirt and the Ergo, but I was afraid to leave Linus alone on the little table since there was nothing to strap him down with.  And now when I could have used them as baby-holders, there were no other women coming into the bathroom.  I couldn't put him on the floor since it was gross and wet and, you know, he was basically naked.

"Where the heck is Tom?" I wondered.  I was standing there covered in poo, holding Linus on the table, waiting to hear Tom's voice in the hall.  I pulled out my phone (carefully, since it was in the front pocket of the very soiled Ergo), and tried to call him.  No reception in the bathroom.  Sigh.  I unclipped the Ergo from my waist, threw it into a sink, picked up Linus, and went into the hallway, hoping no one would recognize what the yellow stuff all over my shirt was.

I tried calling Tom again.  He answered. Through the poor reception, echoing marble halls on my end, and shrieking toddler on his end, we attempted a conversation that went more or less like this, "WHERE ARE YOU?!"  "WHERE ARE YOU?!"  "I'M OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM, I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU!" "I'M OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM, I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU!"

Tom had found a different bathroom somewhere - a "family restroom" which I really wish I had found in the first place, since his presence would have greatly simplified cleanup - and was waiting for me outside of it.  I explained where I was so he could come help.  He showed up a few minutes later with the older kids - Stella still screaming in his arms - and took Linus in his other, so I could go back in and unsuccessfully attempt to get the yellow stains off everything.

To make the day just a little more gross, a short while later, I noticed a suspicious-looking brown stain on the shoulder of Tom's shirt where Stella had been sitting - in a dress - a little earlier.   She got her own diaper change shortly after.

Crazy people that we are, we ended up staying at the museum another couple hours.  We put some food into Stella which calmed her down considerably (Tom claims she gets her "hanger" = hungry+angry from me).  Poor Linus was put back, naked except for a diaper, into a damp but dry-paper-towel-lined Ergo to be carried around for the rest of the afternoon.

Heh, it worked out.


***

In the same vein....last night while we were praying the Rosary, Stella went over and grabbed the seat off her potty (no, she's not anywhere near being potty trained!  Mommy was overly-optimistic about being able to reduce the number of diapers she changes each day) and placed it on Tom's head like a hat.  Everyone else stayed focused and prayerful, but mature person that I am, I snickered about it for a good while.

On Having Two Children

Just some reflections so far...

All the parents of multiple children I talk to tell me that the "hardest" transition is either from one to two, or from two to three kids.  It seems like an even split between the two camps.  People all agree, though, that after that number (either two or three kids), adding more isn't such a big deal.  So far - and I realize that I am only speaking from a week's experience, so I may change my tune soon enough - going from one to two has been a lot smoother than I expected.  Granted, I've had help from my mother-in-law.  I still haven't really been put to the test in dealing with them fully on my own.

I have a feeling that "home life" isn't going to change all that much.  It's going to be getting out of the house that presents the biggest challenge.  I just hope I don't become one of those moms who never goes anywhere anymore, because it's too much work!  We have a lot of tools at our disposal to help us, though: a sling, a Moby wrap, a baby Bjorn, a baby backpack, an umbrella stroller, a travel system stroller, and a double jogging stroller (yikes!! no wonder our basement was taken over with baby stuff!). Stella's too small for some of them, and Sly's too big for some of them.  But I can find different combinations for different activities, and hopefully figure out how to keep us from just sitting inside all day.

Stella has been such an easy baby so far.  She's still in the "sleeps seemingly 23.5 hours a day" phase.  But even when she does cry, the only thing she ever wants is to be nursed.  Nursing her will stop the crying 100% of the time.  And then she falls right back asleep.  I really can't complain.  Baby Sly used to just scream for hours, totally inconsolable.  And he was very bad with nursing for the first month or so.  But Stella's just a pro.  I wonder how much of that is "her" and how much of it is because I have a lot more confidence in what I'm doing this time around?

It is fascinating to think how the same two parents can produce such different little people.  Their personalities are going to be all their own.  I'm excited to see how Stella's personality develops.  It's also going to be a good measure of how much any "successes" we've had with Sly are a result of our good parenting vs. just "good luck" in getting a child who's naturally tidy, obedient, or any other valued trait.

When Sly was a baby, it changed my whole lifestyle.  It was a huge transition - learning to care for a little person, figuring out how to get errands done, learning which social activities could still be handled and which ones just needed to be given up for a time.  So I was gearing up for a rough time again with this new little one.  But I realize - babies are so EASY.  Taking care of Stella is nothing - I know what I'm doing now, and my life has already been adjusted to "parent mode".  It's Sly, the very insistent, very energetic toddler that takes so much more of my energy right now. 

We were worried about how Sly would handle a new baby.  I was sure he'd get jealous, and act out a lot.  (Well, he does act out a lot, but I think that's mostly a symptom of being two years old!)  But he has been amazingly sweet, affectionate, and welcoming to his new baby sister.  He can't see her without wanting to plant kisses all over her.  He is very solicitous about her - worrying when she is crying, and wanting to put in a pacifier for her or give her a blanket.  He talks about her with a big smile on his face.  I'm so grateful for that.

Before Stella was born, I kept wondering to myself, "how will I ever love another kid as much as I love Sly?".  But it's just so natural.  From the day she was born, it was obvious to me that I had room in my heart for both of them.  As they say, your love isn't divided amongst each new child that comes along.  Instead, it is multiplied.  How true.

Day Three of My Husband Being Out of Town

Valentine's cookies I baked several years ago

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. For some, that's a romantic day spent with their honey. For me, it was a very uneventful day holed up in the house with my almost 6-month old little man, and our two cats. The two of us only got out of the house for about a half hour, total. I decided that I needed to take a walk - just to get out of the house - and Sly rode in his Baby Bjorn. The temperature was more pleasant than it's been recently (maybe about 40°?), but it was raining on and off throughout the day. And it was the rain and wind that drove us back home shortly after we'd started.

I found myself wishing Sly was a bit older, so we could make a cute Valentine's Day craft together. I considered baking some sort of heart-shaped or red-colored treats, but I realized that without Tom home all week, I would end up eating EVERY.last.one. Myself. Bad idea.

For dinner, I cooked myself a "romantic dinner for one". It was a slapped-together-from-what's-in-the-fridge version of "Chicken Parmesan". I used generic-brand frozen chicken patties, and grated some Swiss cheese on top (since that's all we had). I cooked up some farfalle to eat on the side. We didn't have any wine. ha.

Tom called me at night. But instead of cheerful "Happy Valentines Day, my love, my life, my wife" mushy sorta of sentiments, it was mostly tired sighs. Turns out, he had come down with a fever a few hours before, and was feeling awful. So our conversation was really not that enjoyable anyways. I had to make him promise me that he would ask the hotel for some medicine before he went to sleep (which, based on how poorly he was paying attention to the conversation, was probably minutes away), and we said goodnight.

I'm glad I don't put too much stock in this holiday to begin with, because this Valentine's Day was pretty lame. Ah, well.

Baby Updates

1. Sly's forehead has been looking terrible recently. It started out as "cradle cap," which is a common skin condition for babies. It's basically just a rash/dry skin on their head. For him, it was all concentrated on the forehead, rather than elsewhere on the scalp. For a few weeks, he just had little red bumps and some flaky skin. No big deal. But then, somewhere along the way, his instinct to scratch himself kicked in, and the whole thing got out of control.


We didn't understand at first what was causing it. His forehead wouldn't be too bad when I put him to bed, but in the morning when I went to get him, his forehead would be all cut up and bleeding. I thought maybe the cold/dry weather was making it crack, and I started putting lotion on it. Then one time, I caught him scratching in his sleep. And I mean, he was really going to town. So we started making sure his hands were covered every night by the hand flaps on his (adorable little) bunting suit, in addition to moisturizing it each day. His forehead started looking much better. The speed at which babies heal is truly astounding....

But now he's begun to scratch when he's awake. And we can't always catch him time. I keep his nails trimmed as short as I'm able, but they're so tiny and hard to cut! We bought some mittens for him, but I really hate to put them on him while he's awake. I waited so long for him to get old enough to start "using" his hands. He loves to grab things with them, or stick them in his mouth. I don't want to prevent his exploration. So I guess for now, I just have to try to be vigilant of where those little hands go, and try not to feel bothered when other people see his beat-up face and wonder what on earth I've been doing to my child.


2. Sly is becoming so much more "talkative" now. It's pretty cute usually - I love that he is learning to make sounds now that aren't just angry screams. But I've noticed a trend to the times he chooses to practice his voice. The two situations wherein he likes to make noise are when there's already another loud sound going on (he's trying to compete with it, maybe?), or when there's utter silence. For example, when I take a shower, I usually lay him on the bathroom rug to wait for me. Amazingly, he's perfectly content the whole time. As soon as the noise of the shower starts, so does his little baby "singing." He immediately starts up his happy chorus of "ahh ahh ahh aaAAAaa," and doesn't stop until the moment I turn off the water. I put him in the same place while I'm running the hair dryer, with the same result. These two situations are the only times Sly will just lie happily on his back. He also tends to get very talkative at parties or other places with lots of loud conversation going on.

So I've concluded that he quite enjoys loud and incoherent noise, and feels the need to add his own voice into the mix. And on the flip side of that, though, he does not like silence. He feels it necessary to fill any voids with his exploratory shrieks. This isn't a problem usually, but this weekend did present a few embarassing situations. Mass on Sunday, for one. As long as there's singing, reading, preaching, etc., he tends to be pretty quiet. We attend the Traditional Latin Mass, where much of the Mass of the Faithful ("Liturgy of the Eucharist") is silent. It seems a bit paradoxical to put it this way, but essentially, the silence "builds" up to the Consecration, which is the most important moment. So of course, this is exactly the time Sly thinks to himself, "hmm, this place is too quiet. I should liven things up a bit" and starts his happy shrieking.

He did the same thing to me later in the day when I met a student at the library for tutoring. The library is filled with quiet people on a quiet Sunday afternoon, looking for a quiet place to study. So, of course, it's the perfect place in his mind for making some noise. I really think Sly gets bored with the peace and the quiet. Maybe it's because he's a boy? I'm not sure. But I do know that I got more mean looks than I cared for, and next time I have to bring him tutoring with me, I think we'll set up at a table in the children's section.


3. On Saturday, I dragged Tom to a free "babywearing" class hosted at the cloth diaper store. Babywearing is just what it sounds like - carrying your baby on your body with some sort of device. There are various types, and as I'm not well-educated in carriers, I'm not going to go into them now. There is also a whole philosophy of Attachment Parenting that some people ascribe to, and those folks tend to wear their babies quite a bit. Also not going into that here.

I mostly signed up for the class because I had gotten a sling for Christmas, and was having a lot of trouble wearing it in a way that made me and Sly both comfortable. The women showed me several ways I could wear him in there. I think the main problem I'd been having before was that I wasn't making it tight enough at all. They said the general rule of thumb is to tighten it past the point you think it's too tight. As long as it's not painful on you, it won't be painful on the baby.

Tom was very pleased to manage to take a picture that included his wife, his son, his cat, the books, the ship, and the globe: six of his favorite things ;-)

It would definitely have been nice to have this right when Sly was born. He's always been a baby who needs to be held all the time. There have been so many times when I wanted to fold laundry, do dishes, or any other little household chore, but had to put it off until Tom got home, because I didn't want to face the wrath and displeasure of an unattended baby. Now, if he really needs to be in my arms, I can still "hold him," but do certain things around the house.