How God Loves

My youngest son is two months old now. His newborn phase was rough, and while I won't classify it as colicky because I know mothers and babies who've struggled with that and it was a million times more difficult, it nevertheless contained much more fussiness and irritability than we've seen with any of our last few babies. So now that he's turned a corner and become old enough to work out the kinks in his little digestive system that were giving him such grief, he's a pretty happy little guy.  He especially loves his older brothers, and I told my husband the other day that I'd be jealous that he smiles at them more than he smiles at me except that it's pretty much the sweetest thing I've ever seen.  I'm glad that he loves them so much, and it's so beautiful to see the way he lights up for them.

Saying No

It’s after 10:00 am and I’m still in my pjs, a rarity for me.  We were invited out with a friend this morning, and after accepting (because it’s a dear friend who I never get to see) I had second thoughts.  Yesterday we had two major outings – a doctor’s appointment in the afternoon (made more crazy by reduced ferry service to the Peninsula where I live which resulted in long waiting lines with a crying newborn and misbehaving older children cooped up in a van) and an Orchestra concert in the evening, which involved dropping off a few of my younger children to hang with Nana (because the last time we took them to a sophisticated event they were, well…not sophisticated.)  We had a very full, great day, but by the time we crawled into bed after 11 pm we were all exhausted.

My Favorite Dance Partner

As I write this, it is nearing supper time.  We’ve spent the day at home, my seven children and I, and my newborn has been difficult to put down all day.  If I am honest, he is very similar in temperament to my second child – the one that was gassy, and nursed every 1.5 hours for an hour at a time (which, if you do the math, means I spent the better part of the day sitting in a chair – and this with a toddler at home!) The child who both broke me and made me as a parent.  And I couldn’t be more grateful for that experience. 

That's a Wrap

This has been an incredible school year for us.  As has become fairly typical of us, we tend to lay low with social activities and extras until the Spring, then we emerge from the first half of the school and winter ready to take advantage of the many great resources that are available to homeschoolers in our area.  And man, there are a lot!

One Week

I had intended on writing a post about my pregnancy before it was all over (because it's really been a unique experience - there are so many ways you do things different when it's your seventh time).  And yet, here I find myself at home with my new babe in my arms, narry a free minute to blog in sight (save the time I'm sitting in my chair and nursing, which is what I'm doing now - and typing on my phone!)

Love. I can do that.

Does anyone else get sick of hearing the latest parenting labels?  There's Attachment Parenting, Gentle Parenting, French, Finnish, British or whatever international Parents that are all doing it better than us.  There's Helicopter Parenting (which of course we DO NOT want to do!) and Tiger Parenting - and all of it, to me, seems to slot Moms into a box.  All checklists of things to subscribe to that make parenting a set of goals to achieve, goals which often times seem so far out of my reach, and drive me further into despair over the things I wish I was but am not.

I Don't Know How You Do It

There is no sentence that induces more guilt in me than this one - "I don't know how you do it."  I hear it all the time.  Sometimes, like last weekend when I was away with my husband while both sets of our parents tag-teamed to hold down the fort at home, I even foolishly find myself responding things like, "it gets easier as kids get older," or "I've learned to let go of a lot of things and pick my battles."