The Little Things About My Little People

I have a number of children.  Not a significant nor exorbitant number of children, but still, more than a few.  Recently it's been on my mind, why?  Why have a bunch of children?  What is it about having children that makes me so content?  Why do I want to have a million more children?  Is it in my DNA?  My cultural orientation? 

Maybe it's the conversation I had ten years ago with two mothers who each had eight kids.  They said, "You never regret the kids you have, you only regret the ones you don't."

Having children is the most difficult thing in the world.  It's so hard.  There's so much work.  The babies come and they're just like little kittens -- balls of cuddle to love and care for who rely entirely on you.  That's satisfying.  

But babies ruin your body and your sleep and your errands.  

And then they grow up.  They're noisy and needy and naughty.  And I'm right in the thick of it, looking into the chasm of summer alone all day with four kids. I'm ready.  This is my thing. Kids are my passion.  

I wake up every day exhausted and during the day I am alternately amazed and hell of annoyed, bored and keeping 25 balls in the air, humbled to tears and exalted with pride, worn out and invigorated, grateful, oh so very grateful and feeling grandly cursed.  And that's just before noon.

I feel like having a handful of kids is living a hardcore lifestyle.  Three of the most impressive women I know have 7, 7, and 5 kids.  They're big time.  They're in deep and I admire that.  Their every day lives remind me of Marjorie Hinkley's quote:

But I just can't help myself.  I love all four of them and I worry I will never be done having children!  

I got this note for Mother's Day from Mimi.  The best line is not that I'm (obviously) the best mom ever and that she loves me.  This is a thank you note.  She writes, 

"Thank you for having Lou Lou for me."

From the mouths of babes, no? 

Look at that little blessing.  Mimi's sister!  Who wants to grow up without a sister?  

It was the least I could do for her.

 And look at this little blessing.  The world needed Silas' kookie smile and fun loving personality.

 Look at these little naughties.  So what if I wanted to make dessert for a bunch of people and turned to get the strawberries and found the basket empty?  They exist to thwart my progress and their messy faces give them away.

Who else is going to gnaw on our record collection?

Who else will walk the baby on the leash?

Who else will idolize Hush so much so that he has to sit just like him while playing the guitar?

Who will invite me on rainy field trips to local cultures day and then talk me in to ditching it and buying them all hot chocolate?

Who will steal my 12 hour lipstick and look like a clown for two days?

How will Hush and I spend our Saturday evenings if not for these little piano performers?

Why would I bother to cook?  Who would I eat with? Who would I train as my sous chef?

Whose smooth skin will I bury my face in?  Who will I sneak Oreos with?

Yes, they are hard and burdensome and expensive but the payoff is so worth it: imagine the army my sisters and I are creating.  I've always felt great security being a member of a big family (8 kids 2 parents) and I want my kids to have somewhat of the same experience. Having a brother or two to beat up on you is good. Having a sister or a few presents challenges and gave me a resource of experience.  

So my errands are slow.  And my grocery receipts are staggering. Those of you with just a couple kids (by choice, not because of circumstances or difficulty) are welcome to your neat lives.  But I feel powerful and validated in my little army of minions.  And I know exactly how lucky I am to be blessed with 80 fingernails and toes to clip.  So me and my family?  We're gonna ride the rails.  We're going to swan dive into the maelstrom.  And we're going to happily drown in flailing limbs and drooly kisses.

Feeding Kids

Right now I am an expert in feeding children.  I have no formal training but I'm pretty sure I've logged nearly the 10,000 hours necessary to qualify me as an expert. Or thereabout.

Food and kids became a focus for me when Mimi was a baby and I went out to eat with a friend of mine and her four year old.  She ordered two full size meals, one for her and one for her boy who demanded a fancy adult size hamburger with sides.  The kid ate one bite. I was aghast!  Why would you pay money for food your kid won't eat? Also, I was buying and it made me mad -- she packed up the other meal and took it home.  You're welcome for the two meals.  Another time I had some kids and their parent over for dinner and the parent brought out an entire meal she'd prepared at home for the kids.  When I asked, "Oh, do they have allergies?" She responded, "No, they just won't eat anything but XYZ."  The parent had been preparing separate meals for those little turd kids just because they were picky.  I vowed I wasn't going to let my kids be the boss of food.  Mama doesn't play that.

I don't know much about nutrition and we aren't a granola household, but I do know how to get kids to eat vegetables, foreign food, new food, and food other kids simply refuse. I feel really proud of this accomplishment and, while I grant that children are unique and have specific demanding tastes, I believe it is my doing and my hard work that has resulted such good eaters.  It is from this admittedly boastful position that I'm going to share my strategies.  This post is punctuated by pictures of my kids eating because I have a lot of pictures of my kids eating. They say you photograph what's important to you.  But by the end I ran out so its just adorable pictures of my people.

Anyway, onward. Here are my methods:

1. Start early. Like in utero early.  

I eat a very diverse diet that only expands when I'm pregnant. My favorite foods are Japanese, Thai, Ethiopian, Vietnamese, Indian, Mexican and hamburgers.  When I'm expecting a baby I change only my mercury intake and other raw foods by avoiding big fish (tuna, yellow tail), oysters and carpaccio. Of course these are the exact foods I crave which is annoying.  I believe that whatever I eat familiarizes my fetus with what it will encounter as a child.  It turns out science agrees: What We Learn Before We're Born

2. Familiarize children with food.

Whatever you want them to eat keep it in your routine.  If they've smelled Mexican food their whole lives it won't be such a jump to eat it.

3. Feed them young

As soon as my kids can eat table food they are given food that has a lot of flavor.  Anything I eat I share with them in small bits. Mimi loved miso soup as a tiny baby, Silas snacks on seaweed, Jude inhaled udon noodles in Tokyo. Baby Lou eats teriyaki salmon and edamame.  

4. Take advantage of their greediness.

If kids see you eating they want some.  The more you keep it away the more they want it.  This week Lou was grabbing at my Wheaties so I spooned her some.  Jude watched me make and eat sugarless unappealing for kids oatmeal from trader joe's and begged for a bite.  Now he likes oatmeal.

5. Be trustworthy about food.

My kids trust me that I will not give them food that is disgusting for them.  I don't let them take big bites of wasabi and I don't give them food I wouldn't eat myself.  Only once have I served a dinner that was legitly horrible -- a frozen butternut squash lasagne -- and it was so bad that we had to throw it away. The kids remember that night from three years ago because it only happened once.  When I want them to try something new I ask them "Have I ever given you something that you didn't like?" Other than that lasagne the answer is no.

6. Starve them.

Don't let them eat an hour before meals. Snacking can happen after dinner but not at all before. Kids who aren't very hungry don't care about eating. 

7. It's what's for dinner.

There are no options for dinner beyond exactly what I put on their plates.  There will be no separated noodles and sauce, no special meal for the kid who doesn't like what we're having, which, by the way, has never happened. It wouldn't occur to my kids to ask for something else. Never introduce that option.  They are welcome to pick through things, but if they draw attention to that behavior I will disallow it.

8. "The world doesn't care what you don't like."

I find children who vocalize their dislikes offensive so my children have learned to self regulate with that phrase, "the world doesn't care what you don't like." Feeding children is also about teaching them about service: I or somebody else made this food and impoliteness will not be tolerated.  If you don't like it, keep it to yourself and figure out a way to get full anyway because there aren't any other options and you may not be rude.

9. Make vegetables delicious.

If your kids won't eat vegetables, make better vegetables. Anything is good if you douse it with olive oil and sea salt and roast it in the oven at like 425 for 15 minutes. Add butter and cheese. Give them ranch dip. All children like dipping.  

10. Lie (within reason).

I grew up not liking Brussels sprouts because my siblings didn't like them.  When my kids were really little we took Brussels sprouts and fed them to the ponies down the street.  From thence forth they weren't called Brussels sprouts, they were called "pony food" and the kids thought it was hilarious that they  got to eat the same thing they gave to  the horses.  I introduced them with those bags of frozen Brussels sprouts swimming in butter, now they'll eat them roasted in olive oil and sea salt.  When they hear bad things about Brussels sprouts they don't associate it with pony food.  Same with onions.  "Are there onions in this?" "Nope."  I only trick them when it's to their benefit to not know.

11. Names are important.

Salmon is called Nemo at our house.  Any meat is called chicken because Jude is sure he loves chicken.  He will eat anything.

12. Use reverse psychology.

Whatever I'm eating I often abandon it for a few minutes with the express instructions, "Do NOT eat this."  No child can resist that. Then they want to share when I come back because they've tasted it and discovered it's good.

13. I'm not above bribery.

No eat, no treat.

14. Employ them.

The more my kids help in the kitchen the more they enjoy the food we make.  The mess is worth it.  It's super scary letting them chop things with sharp knives but it's so exciting for them to be allowed to use knives that they become very invested.  Working next to the stove is a risk but they love the responsibility and it's a good lesson in cause and effect.  Some day I'll let them take things out of the oven but not yet.

15. Put them in charge.

Once in a while I'll have the kids plan and make the whole dinner while I sit and watch. When Mimi was five she could make teriyaki salmon, edamame, and rice. Silas makes corndogs, Jude makes quesadillas.

16. Beans and Rice!

Teach them the magic of beans and rice. Nearly every foreign food has beans and rice in some form of another.  Wherever we go out to dinner they know they can at least eat that and be happy about it.  Once they're in the restaurant they become comfortable with the different spices used on the beans and rice which serves as an introduction to the rest of the food. Also, ordering beans and rice means that I don't have to waste money ordering them an enchilada they won't eat.  They can have bites of my enchilada/tika masala/sushi/pad thai and fill up on rice and beans. 

Trust that your children do not have stronger wills than you do: if you stick to your guns and aren't afraid to let them be hungry they will eventually eat some of whatever you offer.  If you have a picky eater I believe you've created a picky eater.  I've seen the biggest wimp eater crunch up a street scorpion in China because he was forceably exposed to weird food that he would be rude to not eat.

Figuring out what to feed kids and keeping all these tummies full three or four times a day is a lot of work, that's why I take no crap.  Thankfully, I learned a lot from my mother about firm meal times and from my dad about the wonderful world of foreign food.  I instituted the eating program at my house very early but even if you haven't there is little but will power and enforcement keeping your kids from being decent eaters and meal times being less of a pain.  I hope that when my kids are fed at other homes their fear of rudeness overrides the new things phobia that most kids have when eating away from home.  I also have to give a lot of credit to school lunches because they are exposed to things there that I don't eat so I don't make (peanut butter and jelly makes me barf but peanut butter and Nutella is magical).  

Lastly, I recommend Blue Apron.  Google it.  My husband bought Blue Apron for my birthday and it's the best gift I've ever received.  Blue Apron sends fresh ingredients for two dinners to my house every other week.  This eliminates figuring out what to make, meal planning, buying ingredients, going to the store, and wasting food because I promise I'm not a thrifty housewife who can use all the sour cream before it goes bad.  The recipes are things I wouldn't think to make, restaurant quality, and easy to follow.  My kids are my sous chefs and we love making these meals together.  I was bored with cooking and stuck in a rut, Blue Apron has made me feel like a culinary wizard and now I love cooking again.  If you want a free meal sent to your house let me know -- they give me free meals to share with friends so they can test drive the service.

Ok, now I'm hungry. To the kitchen!

Not By Any Other Name

Shakespeare wrote, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

I disagree.

Sorry Shakespeare, you're wrong and names make a huge difference.  You think Juliet would have been all hot to trot about Romeo had his name been Horace?  Or Gilbert? 

Before you read on, steel yourself.  I am very opinionated on naming and my thoughts may insult your choices.  For this I apologize in advance and even though we don't see eye to eye on names I'm sure you're still a wonderful person.  These are the views of an obsessed woman.

As you may remember from four years ago when I was knee deep in baby names, I am obsessed with baby names.  I loves names. I love the naming process, I love the cycles that names go through, I love the weird names, I love classic names, I love middle names, I love nicknames.  Whether I'm naming a baby or not I always know what the top 5-10 baby names are that year.  I like guessing people's ages by their names.  I like cross referencing names with location of birth and thinking about how trends travel outward from metropolitan areas.  I couldn't care less what celebrity babies look like, but I wait with baited breath until their names are released.  I keep a rotating baby name list on my phone at all times.

Naming a baby is a bigger decision to me than having a baby because while the baby can develop her own personality, their given name is moreorless permanent and must satisfy them throughout their lives.  It has to be cute as a kid and command respect in the workplace.  It must make them feel like an individual and it must not make them feel like a freak.  It must suit an old lady and a hot twenty something looking to land a hot partner.  It must be easily phonetic to spell and sound normal at both the playground and a wedding.  A name has a huge job.

What blows my mind is when expectant parents look no further than the top 20 names in America.  You have an amazing opportunity here, why add another Emma to the world?  Every single time the parents have some exceptional reason for picking that name (I've liked it since I was a child, I didn't know it was popular) but to me it's a letdown.  

Here's the Social Security list from 2013:

Sophia, Emma, Olivia, Isabella, Ava, Mia, Emily, Abigail, Madison, Elizabeth.  What Pam and Linda were to the late 1940's and Jennifer and Jessica were to the 1980's, so are these ten names to this decade.  Nevermind the boys names this time, they're just too predictable.  In other words, I hope you enjoy having your unique little Sophia called Sophia B number 3.

And to prove my point, here is Mimi's ballet performance program, all repetitive names underlined and tallied. 

My kids are named Mimi, Jude and Silas.  I'll explain their names later.

These are the guidelines I follow when I'm naming kids:

1. Letters
 First I consider the other starting letters in my family: L, D, J, M, S.  It's unlikely that I will choose a name with the same letter as another immediate family member.

2.  Grouping trends
After that I think about name grouping trends.  For example, no two syllable boy names that end in N (Jayden, Caden, Hayden) , no variations on "ella" (Isabella, Elle, Bella, Ellison), and obviously absolutely no names (nor any derivatives) that are on Social Security's top ten lists from the last five years.

3. Ambivalence  

No names that are ambivalent, for example Elizabeth.  There are about 20 different nicknames for Elizabeth, so really you're just putting off naming your child for a few years and you're basically saying, "I give up, choose your own name."  Eliza, Beth, Betsy, Liza, Liz, Ella, whatever. 

4.  Letterhead

Name must be acceptable for professional letterhead.  It's good this one is in there or I'd probably name my girls Honey or something.  

5.  Gravitas
Which leads me to No stripper names.  Names have to command respect, they have to have some amount of gravitas.  Too bad because stripper names are cute and my seven year old loves them. If she had her druthers this baby would be named Sapphire.  

6.  Nicknames

Expect to use the implied nickname.  When I name kids I tend to give them two options: real name and nickname intended for childhood use.  Ellie's new baby, Abraham will be called Abe.  

7.  Harmony
Name must make sense with other children's names.  You can't go Alice,  Henry and Zephyr. 

Avoid repeated cadence. No Jordan, Kailyn, Brandon.

8.  End Sounds

Differentiate last syllables.  I won't use another boy's name that ends in S.

9.  Origin
No stealing from other ethnic name troves (unless you have genetic inheritance).  Asians pretty much own Lillian and Vivian, Jasmine is middle eastern, Ashley and Steven are Caucasian.  I don't make the rules, I just observe them.

10.  Patience
Don't name your kid before it comes out, have at least three options.  I was going to name Mimi Simone but she wasn't a Simone.

11. Associations
No innappropriate associations.  Delilah and Salome are out.  Know the other people associated with that name.  Google it!  I'd like to lift the ban on Disney names.  I wish I could name a kid Ariel.

12.  Cooperate

Heed your spouse's opinions.  If they hate your choices they probably have a reason, which they must provide and then offer alternatives.  Give and take.  

13. Listen
Babies pick their own names.  Hold that baby in your arms and test out the names you like.  It will tell you what name is right.  What amazes me is that in the hospital with my newborns some good names get completely forgotten because they just don't suit the kid.  Welcome those late name suggestions.  Jude wasn't even on our list, but there he was, being all Jude.  

14. Discuss

Listen to your family.  When you're pregnant and especially when you're newly delivered, your judgment is not 100% sound.  Bounce names off your family, provided they know you may not use their suggestions.  Naming is somewhat of a committee decision.  Do not listen nor solicit nurse's opinions.  The decision has no bearing for them.

15.  Go big
Be fearless but restrain yourself.  I feel like I deserve a badge of honor for this one.  Knowing what you know about me, couldn't you imagine that I might name a kid Tulip or Rocknroll or Romeo?  Nope, monikers are too important.

So where does one start, now that all the embargoes are established?

When I'm naming a kid I start with what's in my wheelhouse: The Bible, Shakespeare and English Literature.  Those are my safety zones.  Then I venture outward to the rest of the arts.  Next I survey the primary and especially nursery lists.  I also check school class lists.  Imagine if you came up with a fairly unique name like Vera only to find there's already a Vera at your church?  Family names are good. My best choices were names that have associated songs (Hey Jude, The Sound of Silas), I'd like to repeat that association.  I'd like her to be the only kid in her class with that name, but never have to spell it nor explain it.  My husband favors compound names, I'm onboard with that.  Some names I love have no good nicknames (Ophelia, Desdemona).  I like word names, especially virtue names and nature names.  I'd like to use a name that I have never heard used for another person. I'd never met a Mimi, Jude nor Silas when I named them and I've never met another Lenore.  

Mimi's name is Miranda Giselle, named for Shakespeare's Tempest and her aunt Giselle who was named after the ballet.  I love her name, but I neglected to check TV lists and it kinda bugs me that Miranda was a character on Sex in the City.  I love the repeated syllable and French sound of Mimi.  We haven't run into another Mimi.

Jude's name was suggested by a friend when he was born.  I love everything about this name, from the biblical association to the song and the book Jude the Obscure. I like that it sounds strong but has no hard fricatives.

Silas was also suggested in the hospital by my sister.  He was very quiet when he was born and I loved how peaceful Silas sounds. Also a bible name (companion of Paul) and from the book Silas Marner.  Am slightly worried this name will become popular due to the old guy on Duck Dynasty.

I tell people I was named after the Raven by Edgar Allen Poe, but my parents were reminded of the name by their babysitter who was named Lenore, but went by Suzy. Weird.

Now for some honorable mentions, though there are occasional oversights of my rules that they didn't know nor care existed.

All of my sisters are great namers.  These are the cousins: Maxwell, Claire, Solomon, Fiona, Charlotte, Henry, Griffin, Beatrice, Theodore, Penelope, Alice, Piper, Sylvie, Otto and Abe.  

My new sister in law did a good job with consistency and coherence: Lindsay, Kaitlyn, Megan and Madison.

Friends who are good namers and deserve mention have these children:

Asher, Naomi and Eleanor

Harrison, Henry and Eden

Hudson, Regan, Gray

Harper, Norah and Clover

Claire, Jonah, Sam, Miles

Lots of others I can't think of right now.

So now you know what I'm looking at for names and I welcome all suggestions.  There are so many wonderful names to choose from and I'm so lucky that we get to have a baby to name.  

I think I'll name her Bob.

Life Saving Tips for the Mother of a Big Family

This is a guest post by my dear cousin Anna Andrews, one of my mothering idols.  She has seven kids ages 21-5 (twins) and she is winning at life.  I got my grubby mitts on this glorious list of instructions for raising a big family and I cannot deprive you of it (with her permission and unedited, all her words).  This is from a woman who speaks from 25 years of marriage and 93 years of cumulative mothering.  It was composed for her new sister-in-law who has taken on the heroic task of raising five kids.  I find myself muttering "I don't minister to laundry" every time I dump an unsorted basket of laundry into the wash and "food and touch" every time one of my kids has a meltdown.
If you're raising a slew of kids this is how you do it.  Thanks, Anna.  Your excellent children are a testament to your excellent wisdom and selfless effort.

1. Paper plates are life savers.
There are loads of articles that tell you the biggest predictor of happy, healthy children is eating dinner together.  And I believe.  This would be a dream if dinner came at 10:00AM.  I would have the table set with china and candles.  As it is, everyone is tired, hungry, stressed and busy at 6:00.  So, if I can just do the dinner, not the hullabaloo, I congratulate myself as I put out the paper plates.  Always remember your goal.  Be clear about your goal and however you achieve it, be happy.

2.  Self congratulation is key to mental health.
Women go from constant external congratulation to sitting at home doing loads of things for which no one ever compliments.  We are really good at doing this to each other:  Your hair is cute!  Fabulous outfit! But no one compliments you on not screaming at that kid who deserves it.  Or picking up that coat for the fourth time today.  So this is when you must self congratulate.  My, my my I did a great job making the bed.  Yay for me for not screaming at husband for dropping socks there.  Perfect this art.  Additionally, you must be able to identify and ask when you need it from the kids and husband. I have no problem saying, Don't I look nice?  Or I need you to say something nice to me.  It's not that they aren't thinking it, they just don't think to say it.  You're doing them a favor.  Cue them to say the happy things.  Everyone will be happier.

3.  Sex
Do it often.  It cleanses the palate.  Do it when you don't feel like it.  You never regret having sex.  It doesn't always have to be magical.  Think of it like food.  Sometimes it's quick thrown together, sometimes it's slow and deliberate.  There are always 100 things to do in a big family, make sure sex is on the top of the list.

4.  Dates
This sometimes goes with #3, but not always.  Every Friday Husband calls me up and asks me on a date.  It's the time we have to decompress and be us again.  Not Mom.  Not Dad.  Just Husband and Wife.  Kids have to take turns babysitting.  Teenager, I don't care if you're popular, tonight is your turn to support your parents.  Find time to just be you guys.

5  Don't do it for them.
I am fast at almost everything and so it's really tempting for me to hurry and do that.  It's faster than getting the kid to do it.  But nothing makes a kid resent you more than indulging them.  They feel better about themselves when they accomplish and are self-sufficient.  I think some parents go too far the other direction, but for me, reminding myself of this is healthy.  Sadly, the other prong of this fork is kids only work if you're working.  You can't just say, go and do that (at least until they're about 10).  You have to work beside them.

6.  I don't minister to laundry.
If something is ruined, goodbye.  If it's delicate and shrinks, it doesn't belong in a big family.  If it bleeds, it goes.  I buy only the same kind of black socks for boys because they can wear them to church and school and they don't show dirt.  Girl's it's only white.  It's not worth even 5 minutes of my time to match socks and I refuse to cater to fancy socks.  Garbage.  Period. No guilt.

7.  Bundles.
In our culture of amassing things, the things sometimes dictate our lives.  My first question is how often do I want to do laundry?  My answer is once a week.  That means each child needs 8 sets of clothing (8 pairs of socks, pants, shirts).  One for every day and one extra (you need 10 in the summer).  The beauty of this is it forces kids to do laundry (they don't have an endless supply) and it's an easy amount to keep track of (purchase, wash, fold, put away).  All the dirty clothing can fit in one basket and can be washed in ONE LOAD.  I make sure the clothing specifically matches each other (bundle) or that everything matches everything.  

8.  Cute, clean kids are easier to love than ugly, dirty ones.
I learned this from Celia.  When my toddler wouldn't stop messing and messing and crying and crying she said, "Go buy him a new outfit.  You'll love him again."  And guess what?  It worked.  Before you break up with your child, try new haircut, bath and clean clothes. Your love will be renewed.

9. Play = Messes.
Don't be offended when those kids play quietly and the result of said play is a giant mess.  It's always a mess.  I tell them they can only have two messes.  It makes them feel like they're getting away with something.  Before play (mess) #3 begins you must clean play (mess) #1 or play (mess) #2.

10.  TV is the cleanest toy.
But realize that their brains don't work after TV.  I take the amount of time they spent watching TV and cut it in half.  That's how long I'm going to have to listen to, "I'm bored."  They are bored.  Their brains have shut off and they can't think of anything.  Don't worry, wait the allotted time and brains will reboot.

11.Don't let go first.
Hugs really do work.  Hugs help sad, mad, hurt.  I decided long ago that you can hug me as long as you need to. My affection doesn't have a timer.  Some kids it's long and some it's short.  But I don't let go first.

12  Dads speak a different language.
I spent years puzzling over what Dad was saying to those kids.  Certainly I could teach him how to say/do that differently (right).  Just pay attention to how I do it and then you'll know.  But then something quite unexpected happened, the kids responded to him.  Happy, productive responses.  You mean that whole time he was making sense to them?  Okay so I don't speak Dad.  Just because I don't speak it, doesn't mean it isn't valid or doing its job.

13. And speaking of Dads, wait for it.
Many moms make the giant mistake of marginalizing dads.  In part because of #12 and in part because most dads are out of their depth with babies and toddlers.  Moms start to exclude and marginalize at this point.  Do Not Do This.  By the time those kids are 13, they can't really hear you anymore. You become sort of static.  But guess who they can hear?  That's right, The Dad.  Don't marginalize.  Keep that secret weapon at the ready and confident.  You're gonna need him.

14.  Nevertheless is a magic word.
It means you don't have to fight.  But I did the dishes last time! Nevertheless . . . But that's not fair!  Nevertheless . . .

15.  Know your interests.
In the world of moms there are a myriad of talents.  Some are runners, some are cookers, some are bloggers (who appear to be good at everything).  You do yourself no good compiling a list of every mom's talent and thinking that's where the bar is.  That really great runner, sucks at cooking.  That blogger hasn't had sex in 10 days.  Free yourself from comparing.  Realize there are seasons for things.  When you have loads of busy kids and babies, that garden can happily grow weeds.  Sometimes I say out loud, "I don't care about running; it's not my talent."  Then I feel free.

16.  I am not a buffet.
This goes with #15.  As a mom, I'm really good at somethings and really terrible at others.  I'm not a buffet of mothering wonderment.  My mom was a wiz in the kitchen and horrifying every time she left her closet.  Geez the absence of fashion.  I realized I could get that from other women.  Women generously nurture.  Your kids will find the person who can share the thing you suck at.  Be content being authentic.

17.  And about those mom systems.
You will encounter dozens of mom systems (chore charts, reward systems, schedules) that seem like The Answer. Please remember every system requires a system manager.  The system only works because the manager is managing.  No system works on its own.

18. Jobs, jobs, jobs.  
Clean makes everything feel better.  If I feel out of control or can't get ahead I clean and sit and it's better.  Temples are clean; that's why they work.  I decide how frequently I am going to listen to those jobs nag me.  Hi, I'm your dirty toilet, remember how much you like it when I'm clean? Come here.  Spend time with me.  I only listen to most jobs once a week.  Then the rest of the week I can say to it, Not your turn.  Wait til Monday. And the cool thing about jobs is they will wait.  They will wait for stories, and for sleeping and for playing.

19.  Stories, sleeping and playing are paramount to enjoying your roll as mother.
It's the fun and don't forget the fun.  I am task oriented so I have to remind myself to have fun.  Playing hooky from jobs is one of my favorite activities.  Kid wants to see Avengers after school on Wednesday?  Ok.  That kid brings me a book in the middle of washing dishes?  Yes.  Because spending time with the kid means you love them. Recognize that.

20.  Food and touch.
Kids need both to feel loved.  If a kid is riotous and rebellious, feed them and pet them.  They will settle down. They are puppies.  Especially those teenagers who don't get touched any more cause they're too big and look like adults.  They're not.  Think of them as really large toddlers.  They need touch, sleep and food.  Almost all problems can be solved by those things.  (PS, This is true for husbands too.  Sorry).  The beautiful thing about this realization is it means I don't have to take that fit/tantrum/explosion personally.  I replace that raging big person with the little person they used to be and think, What would I do for the toddler version of this person?  I would calm, sit, read, feed, hug.

21,  Agency is supreme.
You can make kids do stuff.  Can.  You can force them to obey.  But if you do, you've lost the war.  And really, you're in it for the war.  If they have to fail to see the right, that's fair trade.  No gloating.  Just love and reinforcement.  Failure is part of the deal.  Failing classes, sports, friendships.  You don't learn from the good stuff.  Don't deprive them of the lesson.  The lesson shapes the agency.

22.  Follow through.
Every time you say something and don't follow through, you have to exactly follow through 4 times to regain credibility.  They simply don't believe you if you don't follow through.  So be careful what pops out in the heat of the moment.  Every punishment for that kid is a punishment for you. You have to be there to enforce.  Say what you mean.  You may have to ask for a time out.  There will be a punishment/consequence for this but I need a minute. Ask for help from Heavenly Father.  Wait a beat, get the inspiration.

23. Don't forget the preteens. 
Preteens are such easy children; it's tempting to forget them.  They are independent and aren't plagued by hormones.  It's tempting to let them alone.  My grandmother Donna said If you bank the time with the preteens you can withdraw it when the kid is a teenager.  She was right.  I have shows we watch, trips we take, food we like.  It's all banked to weather the teenage storm.  It works.

24.  You will fail.
It's going to happen.  You will overreact, underreact, not react.  Words will escape you when you didn't mean them to.  Be quick to apologize.  It means it's okay to make a mistake and sorry works.  That may be the healthiest thing you can teach a kid.  Kids are amazing forgivers; they always do this better than adults.

25.  Lastly, this stage passes.
When the kids were all little and constantly testing gravity (does it break, does it sink, can I get her to fall), I was convinced they were there forever.  But they grow.  You will not like every stage.  Some moms love babies, some teenagers and frankly some moms don't like either and are so relieved when their children are adults.  It's all fine.  And the reason it's fine is the stage passes.  You're raising adults, not children.  That's the process and the goal.

One of my favorite quotes is from Leo Tolstoy, "Happy families are all alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."  Happiness is a choice.  If the mom is happy, the family can withstand a lot.  If not, the family wilts.  Every day is just 24 hours.  The beautiful thing about Heavenly Father is if you really mess up this set, you get a fresh set tomorrow.  It's just that simple.

I Am Mother.

Today I woke to a bath of barf that soaked my sheets, courtesy of my 4 month old baby.
Dosed him, fed him.
Cleaned up, 6 year old sets off the house alarm.
Blitz cleaned house while getting three big kids ready for school.  We had cake for breakfast because I only got around to frosting it at midnight the night before.
Remembered as the door slammed that it's Teacher Appreciation week and they were supposed to bring some treat.  Oh well. Taking that loss today.

Changed some poops, dressed some babies, threw in a load of laundry, caught a glimpse of my body while getting dressed in clothes that don't fit right now, shuddered and swallowed some self loathing.  Did both my hair AND makeup! It doesn't make me feel skinny.

My wonderful cousin showed up to troubleshoot my half-done downstairs family room.
We started a project much too big for my life right now but that will be a happiness boost when it's done.  Provided relationship advice that, considering the source, is probably exactly the wrong counsel.
Putty.  Paint.  Toddler fending.  Infant wakes up.
Knock on the front door.  A friend from school said Jude is in the office.  Can't call because toddler locked my phone.  Scooter over to school to collect Jude who barfs on the walk home and continues to do so hourly.  Sometimes he makes it to the toilet.  Sometimes he doesn't.

Lunch!  Must feed all the babies who are hungry at the same time.  Nursing grounds me for 20 minutes while 20 month old rubs up against the newly painted nearly dry wall.  More fool me.
Ate only brown rice for lunch. Must get skinny, dontcha know.  No sugar.  No soda.  Bad day to start clean eating but too late, trudge forward.

Blessed be the toddler's nap, followed by the infant's second and hopefully lengthy nap so maybe maybe maybe I can nap too?
The infant's nap is a mirage.  He's still sick so he wakes every twenty minutes to remind me.  Poor little guy.  Needs extra love.  More nursing.

Big kids come home, 6 year old carrying a Mother's Day gift that I needed right that second.  9 year old sweeps up a baby, for a few minutes at least.
More barfing from Jude.  Philo's fever back in business.  100.9, 102.9 respectively.
Dose, dose.  Barf, barf.
Laundry.

Steal a few minutes to make progress painting so husband doesn't come home to a hideous half done wall.  He still does.  But that doesn't happen for another few hours.
Silas off to breakdancing, cheers to me for setting up a carpool.
Nursing, dinner prep, feed toddler.
Ditch barf boy at home, take others to collect carpool and do drop offs.
Baby finally sleeping.

Back home, take sleeping baby in the house in his carseat.
He treats me to a massive poop explosion.  Yes, it got in the buckle.
Extract baby.
Surgically remove onesie, clean child.

Toddler will not get out of the car.
Assign Silas to play his iPad in the car while BL plays in there.  Deliver him a corndog as payment.
No time to finish dinner before soccer practice, and why bother anyway if there are barfers?
Touch and go scavenging for dinner.  Kids elated!

Shuffle Silas off to soccer practice.
Get Mimi out the door for church activity (Mama, can I bring the cake?  Yes.  Here is the whole cake and some forks.)

Three children crying for me,  Jude barfs on the couch.  Yes, it got in the cracks.
Husband arrives and has had a very busy day.  Listen, console the best I can.  Wife game decent today. 
Some relief provided with toddler.

Hustle toddler into bed, move her temporary lodging out of the barf room.
Nurse, put not sleepy baby down.
Drive to the church to pick up Mimi. (Why is our building driving distance when we live in Utah?)
Head to store for diapers.
Get harassed for 30 minutes by Mimi at the store for whatever item she absolutely needs right now.

Return home, baby awake and shrieking.
Dose, feed, comfort for 45 minutes.
Turn to see 9 year old unloading the dishwasher.  Burst into genuine tears of gratitude.  Swell with pride that my head is still above water.  Didn't scream, didn't feel mad all day. Chaos in my world, peace in my heart.

Read to Silas.  Bribe Mimi with iPad time if she changes over the laundry.  Tuck Jude in on the bathroom floor.
All in bed.

Clean up.
Feel grateful and proud.
Document.

Warrior Hair

A buddy of mine sent me this photo this week:

Fun fact, that isn't me. At least I don't think it is.  The pic is from SLC comic con, but even my sisters and I can't figure out if it's another person or just a photoshopped picture of me.  My hair isn't purple right now, but it has been. Even the freckles by my hairline are the same. But those aren't my teeth nor my eyebrows.  It's a mystery. Please solve.

There was a hair change this week, however.  And that's kind of what this post is about.  

As I adapt into being a mother of five by nursing a new baby, chasing a toddler, soaking up my kindergartner, marveling at my 7 year old and bonding with my 9 year old I feel like I'm in a particularly challenging parenting moment.  So I needed to feel the part of a Warrior.  Hair always helps me look the way that I feel.

Here's a pic right after I got it cut.  Looks normal, right? (Ps, I am terrible at selfies)

Here's what it actually is: shaved on both sides and underneath. It's a legit Mohawk. 

It feels so amazing to be free of about half of my hair! But I still have to brush it and style it.

I was of course worried that I'd hate it as soon as I did it. I don't. I love it.  It feels hardcore because I feel like I'm living hardcore.  

I also kind of look like my dead brother Nate with shaved sides. That's cool.  But mom is coming to town and she will not like it.  Thankfully I planned for that!

Here are all of the people I'm managing somewhat successfully. I'm kind of getting my ass handed to me having two babies again.  How on earth did I do three, and alone? I was probably a basketcase. Oh yeah, I absolutely was.  This month and next are peak hardness because of lack of sleep. I firmly believe that when you get to months three to four with new babies you become a literal zombie from never getting a full night's sleep.  Then when they sleep more normally you recover for a month and become more normal.  But Lou still has some residual sleep issues (my least consistent sleeper) and I was blessed with a little Jude visitor last night because he was having a bad dream.  So we rock, we rock around the clock, we're tricky! 

Powering through. 

Blogging cutting into my sleeping time. Warrior Mama out for at most two hours.