Hej Då!

("Hej Då!" is a commonly used "good bye" in Sweeden, and translates more literally to "Hello, then!".)

Today the munchkins and I ventured forth once again to the magical blue and yellow box of treasures: IKEA Portland.

Armed with the knowledge that it's the "ok" button on the phone that actually saves the photos I take, I brought back not only treasures to warm my home and family, but photographic evidence of our journey.

Witness . . . the girls being sweet and cooperative:

In an uncharacteristic fit of conformity, MissE (now 7--yikes!) agreed to wear a hair clip that matched LilMissL's.  I think they looked adorable . . . and at least there's tenacious evidence (those clips don't. move. ever.) that I did, at one point this morning, brush and otherwise groom their hair!

The boys being . . . um . . . boys:

(Don't you love CS's french fry glamour pose?  And I'm so thankful the Anderman's tongue is mostly in his mouth!)  Their heads were carefully groomed with a wet comb before leaving, as well . . . but it's hard to convince them to wear rhinestone-studded barrettes to prove it.

And the Baby bustin' out his favorite new move . . . The Uber-Nab:

The kid is seriously fast with those fingers.  If you get your head too close, it's game over until he decides to let go. ;o)

Overall, we had a very successful time.  We came away with nearly everything we went to fetch (minus an attractive laundry-sorter deal for the family's dirty duds), a couple of things I didn't have on the list (Hello, Persian carpet in As-Is!  Woot!), and another adventure under our belts.  Honestly, I love taking my kids to Ikea with me.  It's such a family-friendly place (love the baby care room, with a changing table, nursing chair, and toys for the kids!), the munchkins love looking at all of the displays, getting to try out the model living spaces, and play in the children's area.  I love all of the really great homewares (I'm a new duvet/cover convert . . . the older boys each scored a set today, and they love the poufy, squishy softness to snuggle under), I know the store well enough now to not be completely overwhelmed after an hour, and I get a lot of compliments from other Ikea shoppers on my family.  (What mother doesn't simply eat that up?)

(Honest . . . this really isn't bragging . . . I'm just so happy to see that some of the pain and hard word has paid off!)  Today was an all-time record for the number of people who stopped to talk to me for a minute or two about the spectacle of one mother with five children . . . in a public space.  

There was a gentleman about the same age as my dad (mid-50's) who came within about six feet of our table and addressed me, his face steadily flushing as he spoke with an admirably-controlled, quaking voice: "Ma'am, I would like to compliment you on the demeanor of your children."  I thanked him wholeheartedly, appreciating deeply that he was impressed enough to brave coming over to say something.  He was clearly very shy, and retreated as soon as my "Thank You" was spoken. 

Then there was the jovial man who sidled up to me and said: "Are these all yours, girl?!?"  When I affirmed it, he laughed and said "Heavens!"  We chatted for a few seconds, as he grinningly watched the kids arranging the dishes and lunch ephemera on the table.  Then looking me in the eye he asked "You're not Mormon, are you?"  I laughed again, confessing, and he responded with "Good for you!" before smiling and heading off to the lunch line, shaking his head a few times as he went.  

There was the dark-haired grandmother at the very end of our adventure, sitting at the table next to us in the cafe near the exit, who talked back and forth a bit about children and families.  It was clear, after a few exchanges, that she loved children . . . she and her husband had wanted six, had tried to get them here, but had lost babies 2, 4 & 6.  They raised three.  We spoke of what we thought her three angels were doing, and how they spent their time waiting for her to join them.  She was so warm and congratulatory, and visibly joyed by my life choices.  I need to plant her firmly in my mind, to hear her voice and see her smiling eyes on days when things overwhelm me, despite my mighty struggle.

In the interest of full disclosure: they weren't perfect.  There aren't old heads on those young shoulders, to paraphrase E. Nesbit.  CS ran MissE down in the couch section, trapping one of her legs under the stroller cart and eliciting quite the sobbing episode, until MissE was safely ensconsed in the second stroller to rest her mortally injured (and visibly unscathed) leg.  LilMissL was kind enough to take a turn walking without too much fanfare.  

LilMissL had a tearful breakdown while I tried to get everyone's orders straight in the lunch line.  (She was the only one of the kids who wanted pasta instead of mashed potatoes, and thought she wasn't going to be heard.)  

The Baby sobbed broken-heartedly when I disappeared into a batthroom stall (he was in a stroller cart, with the older children, in the bathroom proper).  

And there was complaining and moaning at various times.  Plenty of "Mom, can we get _____???" answered with a plain and quiet "No."  Our fair share of exclamations and excited voices.  And a few social goofs.  They are kids, after all. ;o)

And now that full disclosure has been made, can I just say that seeing people's positive reactions made my day?  I know that people watch me when I'm out with the kids.  Five children, three or four of which are in a straggling line behind me (depending on how many I've got in the cart), is somewhat uncommon 'round these parts. ;o)  Since moving to Oregon I've felt very much like an activist.  People overwhelmed with their child (or two or three) see me with mine.  People who haven't yet started a family get a glimpse into what's possible, instead of the more common and disturbing scenes.

Today, while out with a brood of five:

• I was smiling.  
  
• I was reasonably well-groomed.  (No model, but I'm clean and brushed, and usually have on a smile and mascara!)  
  
• My children were not a hindrance (well, not much of one), or a spectacle, or a burden, or usually an inconvenience to those around them.  (We're working on the whole "pay attention so you aren't in the way of others" concept still.)  
  

They're somewhat shy, but at the same time unafraid, around adults.  This is their reality--their commonplace.  Being out with mom, in the "real world" (to borrow a tired school phrase), is part of their lives.  I'm careful to make sure their physical needs are met; we don't go out at nap time, I make sure they're fed and watered regularly while we're out, we make potty stops, I talk with them and we explore together wherever we are so they're not completely bored, etc.  If I mess up on any one of those, there are highly visible (and audible) repercussions.  (I've been a quick study on that lesson. ;o)

There are lactivists . . . and various types of rights activists . . . there are missionaries and Salvation Army bell ringers . . . people that stand out because they're serving a different purpose than the rest of us.  

That's how I felt today.  We stood out.

Today I finally realized that while only six people stopped to say something to me, there were in all likelihood far more than that who took notice, who watched, who wondered.  I was honestly happy to be there with my children, and I know it showed.

I've never been one to accept the status quo when it didn't match my priorities . . . or to accept the cultural myths that support the more broken facets of society.  Showing random strangers that children are complete individuals, entirely capable of handling themselves well in public places and that women can be capable of true happiness in motherhood was highly satisfying to me today.  I know those concepts are generally accepted as possible--but few in the adult world have ever seen hard evidence.  I wonder if other participants in social movements have felt the same on a good day?

Closeness Without Proximity.

Thanks so much, everyone, for your great comments on my previous post.  I've been pondering over the things said, and they'll show up again in the very near future, as I offer my thoughts on them.

lifeinyonder's concerns are prescient today, as there are so many families in which both parents have chosen to work.  She said:

"And I congratulate you for having the possibility to stay at home and spend so much time with your children! It must be lovely! I hope I too manage to spend much time together with my kids or spend time with them in a way that ties my children to me so that they don't disapear into adulthood. Wonder how one can do that even if one can't be a stay at home mom...? "

While the path I've chosen to stay close to my children is keeping them physically close to me for as long as is healthy for them, there are many ways to stay close to  your children, making lasting and strong relationships with them, if they attend school or otherwise are not physically close to you.

Those ways sound trite, but they work.  With Vern gone to a traditional job five days a week now, we've learned firsthand the value of these.

Make the most of the time you have.

Don't let precious minutes slip by, distracted by things that aren't going to matter tomorrow, or by things you won't remember in a few days.  Focus on the things that are truly important . . . everything else needs to be left by the wayside.  Computers, TV, the internet, and the like are all excluded from our family time.  We play games together (chess is a current favorite, even for our 5yo son), read aloud, do chores together, and otherwise live our lives in concert with one another, involving the children in our tasks, and giving of ourselves in theirs.  I remember knowing families, growing up, whose children were such good friends with their parents.  I longed for that . . . for while my mom is now one of my absolute best friends, I didn't feel nearly as close to her as I wanted to while growing up at home.  It never occurred to me to involve myself in her tasks, as she had always done them alone, and my chores were my own responsibility.  There was no community in housework, something which I try very hard in my own home to foster.  (Foster community, not the lack of it. ;o)

Choose to be happy.

Happiness, love, and kindness are a choice.  Emotions are so strange that way.  They can take us by surprise, as if possessing a life of their own . . . and yet, actions we choose can evoke them, strengthen them, and make them habitual.  (Habitual joy is still joy!)  Stop, breathe deeply, then smile when things get tough.  Calm your voice and clasp your hands when frustration overtakes you.  Everyone loses it to one degree or another from time to time.  Focus on improving the distance between parental meltdowns, on providing yourself space or your own time out when you need to calm down before handling something.  I've recently discovered the incredible value of asking for space when I'm overloaded . . . and my children have caught on with alacrity.  They love it when I can respond to them with patience, and are willing to work with me in order to get it. ;o)

Make your children's lives special.

Show them you are thinking of them, are aware of them, and want to make them happy.  That means allowing them to do things for themselves, as well as providing selfless service.  Notes in lunch boxes, doing fun things together, special surprises of your child's favorite something-or-other . . . whether it's a decoration of their favorite color, or something else.  I've noticed that handmade things are cherished by children, especially as they grow older.  Things that show you've given a gift of self, while children may not think much of it today, will stay with them over time, and coalesce into part of their impression of you.  Be the person you want your children to remember.

And now, speaking of children, I need to go put a couple down for naps. :o)

Thanks so much for reading!!!

An Honestly Good Time

Today, I hitched up my big girl pants and went to see an old friend.  Yes, I was nervous.  I think I did a good job of not coming across that way.  (How did I do, Ang?)

The kids and I all descended on Angela's home, and we gabbed and caught up and smiled at the baby and ate lunch, and just generally had a really nice time.  It's such an interesting process, bringing a long-standing friendship into the present, and reacquainting yourself with this new, adult version of your friend.

Here's the photographic evidence:

Angela and I really haven't seen each other since high school.  (Once? At Kristy's cookie decorating party over Christmas break of '94?)  If I thought seeing "grown up" pictures of friends from high school on Facebook was fun, actually going and visiting the grown up version beats the photos with a stick. :o)

Here are Angela and her exceptionally decent and nice husband, Padraic.

There was a considerable amount of chaos during the visit (especially when the talking Dinoco helicopter made repeated landings on the coffee table), but it all worked out really well.  The melee was fairly well-spread . . . 

And, my next-to-most-favorite part about the visit . . . 

A shower curtain shrine to the Periodic Table.  Complete with rubber ducky hooks. :o)

Thanks for the great afternoon, Angela.  Let's do it again, soon!

How I Do It

Today my neighbor told me she doesn't know how I do it . . . How I take care of five children all day without losing my mind. "Mine drive me crazy, and I only have two!" she said as she began on her way.

As I went on with my morning after that exchange, I carefully mused over how many other women (and men) have told me that same thing. How their one or two or three children drive them crazy, even though they love them.  How they can't imagine spending all day with their children.  (Am I the only one whose heart breaks when I hear that?)  And I could only come up with one difference that applied in every instance:

I have consciously chosen to NOT distance myself from my children.

I don't work for money. They don't "go to" school. Up until a few months ago, Vern worked from home.  It hasn't been easy. (Ha!) And I still have plenty of moments and melt-downs. (As do the kids.) 

But. 

We have learned how to honestly like each other.  Not just that familial love that only surfaces at big milestones and crises, but actually, honestly like one another.  Every day, we're learning to treat each other with courtesy and kindness out of sheer necessity.  We have been together. 

Instead of my children learning to treat their teachers and other people's children with respect, they are learning it at home.  Home.  Where this stuff is supposed to be learnt.  Where all of the work of learning these skills and Christ-like attributes will do them good in the things that matter most.  Very few of us have good friends from high school living close by.  It's hard to make new friends in this world of ours.  But family is hard to get rid of. ;o)

I don't know what I'll do when they grow up and start off on their own . . . but I hope and pray that we'll have managed to spend enough time together that not only will we have a million more memories than most families, but the loving friendship that ties my children to me will be strong enough to keep them from disappearing into adulthood, leaving me behind. (And hopefully they'll come back from wherever they go upon fledging, and live somewhere nearby. ;o)

Hopefully this is better.

That last theme, while it looked good for a few hours, got to be a bit much.

Hopefully this is better on the eyes. :o)

Must. Blog. Soon.

This Just In!

Apparently, I'm a conflicted, fantabulous, relaxed-yet-classic Type A personality.

You Are Bold and Fearless

You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. You have the classic "Type A" personality. You are very intuitive and wise. You understand the world better than most people. You also have a very active imagination. You often get carried away with your thoughts. You are prone to a little paranoia and jealousy. You sometimes go overboard in interpreting signals. You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow. You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily. Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is. You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone. You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together. At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

Don't you just love these? ;o)

This one is disturbingly correct, in a strange way.  I've been all of these things throughout my life, and hopefully have grown through and past the bit about aggressiveness, and was never one for jealousy.  What I'd like to know is how they came up with things like this, when my name is so unusual . . .

Decisions, Decisions.

If you had $33 in Amazon certificates, which would you choose, and why?

Yes, these are the trials of prosperity.  That being the case, do chime in. :o)

Banana Cream Pie Smoothie

I had to post this so I wouldn't forget it:

• 3 small bananas (or 2 large)  Make sure they're really ripe, with some brown speckles on them (or at LEAST no sign of green anywhere).  Ripe bananas make all the difference! 
• 2 ripe pears (Bosc are my favorite, they're still in season kinda/sorta, and they thicken this like pudding).
• 3 Cuties (those easy-peel manadarin/clementine oranges).  You could probably substitute one regualr orange if you don't have these.
• 1 one-hand handful of almonds
• 2 Tablespoon scoops of unsweetened shredded coconut
• 40 drops Stevita liquid stevia (or about 30-35 drops KAL or Sweet Leaf liquid)
• ~1 C. rice milk (optional)
• 6-8 ice cubes (made with filtered water)
  

I put all of the above (minus peels! lol) in the Vita-Mix, and then add water until the water line is about 3/4 of the way to the top.  Walk it up to high and blend until creamy and smooth (less than a minute, but it seems like a long time when it's going that fast!).

My older daughter, the pickiest smoothie drinker ever, says this is better than her favorite pink smoothies, which is seriously high praise!

These could also be made in a regular blender--it would just take a little more careful blending order and longer blending time.

Have a great Friday!!!

It is happening here.

Jenni asked what the big deal was that I spoke of in an earlier post.  Long story short, there was a law passed, called the CPSIA (Children's Product Safety Improvement Act), monstrously voluminous and wide-sweeping.  It was passed quickly (too quickly for most congressfolk or senators to actually read it), and affects everyone and everything, basically. 

Read this, for example.  

And please tell me if you see a substantive difference between burning books and quietly forcing them to be hauled to a dumpter.  I can't see one, and it's chilling.

(Please do go on and read the comments.  There's more info down there . . . )

Please Bear With Me

I started fiddling with the template, and it's downright ugly right now.  Hope to have it fixed soon.  Please don't be frightened! ;o)

To stave off boredom for you, I did put something new in the sidebar . . .