A Wet Thursday but quiet Thursday

A minor tropical storm blew in shortly after we came inside yesterday, which identified a new leak in our roof, so that was very helpful.

I was scrambling to get some homework finished last night when I started to hear a *drip*drip*drip* behind me.

I was not too happy about it. We put a container up in the attic to catch the drips and hope that will be sufficient until we can get it repaired. It seems to be an issue with the flashing around a pipe-thingy. Ugh.

It's been raining steadily for well over 24 hours now, so the ground is already quite saturated with water, but Hurricane Helene hasn't even made landfall yet. She won't be here for hours, but promises to arrive with a lot of wind and rain (and probably thunder and lightning and possibly a tornado or two). 

The power went out momentarily this morning. We all stared at each other nervously (or ran around the house screaming in some cases) because we've been scrambling to do all the things we need to do with power and we weren't ready for it to be gone yet!

Rachel wrote to all of her professors to let them know she's unsure of her ability to hop online for the next little while and she was fortunately able to join an earlier discussion group so she can get that out of the way before the storm comes. 

My campus cancelled classes, so my in-person courses have pushed the syllabus back by a week. I don't know what that will mean when we have one less week to finish our final projects, but for now I'm happy to have a bit of time to breathe during midterms. 

Andrew also cancelled his class, which I think is good because...there are a lot of things you have to do during storms...like check containers catching drips in the attic and checking downspouts and things.

Miriam, Benjamin, and I went outside to check all the downspouts to make sure they were functional and found out they weren't. So we did some more gutter clearing and ditch digging and spout fiddling and we ended up soaked clear through our rain jackets, all the way to our skin! But everything seems to be running smoothly now.

The drain system we had installed in our basement seems to be doing its job well. Water is pouring out of the exit spout, but the basement itself is dry! 

So, that's where we're at...

Whether the weather...

We got up this morning and got right to work preparing for hurricane Helene who will be cruising up our way from the Gulf of Mexico in the next couple of days. Even though our gutters were recently professionally cleaned, we cleaned out the gutters. We cleared all of our yard drains and re-dug all of our emergency trenches. We got some water ready. We did several loads of laundry. And, yes, we have been diligent about charging our devices.

GYLT and spilled tea

Last week Andrew did a family night lesson on SAST (small and simple things, or sucking at something, whichever you prefer). This week he did a family night lesson on GYLT (getting your life together, which we decided was pronounced the same as "guilt"). 

GYLT is a principle Andrew saw from an academic who schedules time blocks in her day to GYLT (simply doing the things that need to be done—things like responding to that email you've been meaning to get to, cleaning off your desk, paying that medical bill...whatever). It's not a bad idea, though the way she blocks out every minute of her waking hours with something stresses me out. I'm sure she's very efficient, though. 

I find myself needing blocks of time where nothing is scheduled so I don't have to feel guilty when my day gets derailed. I don't think that means I don't get things accomplished...it just means that sometimes when your nine-year-old daughter is making breakfast for herself, she bumps up against the hot kettle while she's trying to make toast, which makes her jerk her arm away from the kettle, knocking over the hot cup of water she'd just poured into a mug to steep her tea, soaking herself with recently-boiled water, and burning her torso. 

Watermelon pizza

Alexander has been loving reading magazines recently. We get The Week Junior (a magazine on current events) and The Friend (a church magazine) at our house. He loves reading all the stories but has been particularly interested in the recipes. 

He's been hankering for some watermelon fruit pizza since reading about it in The Week Junior and he finally got to make it on Sunday to have with dinner (which was otherwise leftovers). He'd hounded Andrew about being sure to pick up the required ingredients at the grocery store on Saturday. Andrew came home with blackberries, raspberries, and strawberries in place of the cherries the recipe called for, but this was a case where substitutions were just fine.

It's autumn time! It's autumn time!

It was 93°F today (33°C) and the pool is still open, so we went to the pool this afternoon (just me and the four youngest). Phoebe was so upset about her finger (and the accompanying bandaid) that she could hardly sleep last night and was a bit of a cranky mess today. So naturally she tripped over Alexander in the parking lot and scraped up her knee. She was just about the saddest little girl in the whole world.

"Why does it hurt???" she wailed. "My finger already hurts!"

That's like double jeopardy or something, right? You can't get hurt twice in a 24-hour period.

Antidisestablishmentarianism (and all those other -tarians)

The longest word I ever had on a spelling test was antidisestablishmentarianism, which was once purportedly the longest word in the dictionary (which dictionary? I don't know) and which more or less decries the separation of church and state, typically used in the ongoing debate about The Church of England (and whether or not they need a state-supported church). 

This was in grade four—the same age that Zoë is now! 

*****

Today in church the sister missionaries spoke and one of them talked about a humanitarian trip she took to Kenya when she was 17. So there I was, listening intently, when all of a sudden Zoë shoved her notebook over to me. She pointed to the top of her page where she'd written:

"What is humanitarian?"

I told her that it meant to "help humans (others)."

She read this with great relief because to her "it sound[ed] like eating humans, like, a vegetarian..."

I mean...we all know what vegetarians do...so what about those humanitarians?! After all, "they both end with -tarian."

Andrew is 40!

Andrew turned 40 on Thursday, which happens to be his mega-day on campus. I also have an evening class on Thursdays, so he typically ends up arriving home a few minutes before my class lets out and begins instituting bedtime. So...we didn't do much to celebrate him on Thursday. 

He did put up a birthday banner for himself on his birthday-eve though, which I told him was pretty sad when I went down to put up some 40th birthday decorations I'd gotten for him. 

Anyway, we didn't really do anything for him on his birthday proper, and then on Friday he had to teach an all-day seminar. And Zoë had a primary activity in the evening. And the other kids had a sleep-over at Grandpa's house (while Darla was off in California for a new grandbaby's blessing celebration). 

We couldn't really celebrate the day beforehand because Wednesday is mutual night and Tuesday is my mega-day on campus...and...yeah...

Six little fishies

Autumn is in full swing here, which means our pool days are winding down. The pool is much chillier than it was even a few weeks ago, but we're trying to make the best of our last few swimming days.

Here are all six of the kids at the pool together this afternoon: 

Getting them all at the pool at the same time sure was a challenge this summer—but here they all are! Their swim suits have all been used for more than one season (apart from the boys' jammers, where were new this year) and are certainly showing wear. They're too tight in some places and sagging in others...so I'm sure we'll be getting new swimsuits for everyone before the next swim season hits. 

I'm sure I'll have a few more pictures of them all at the pool together (that's what I keep telling myself to keep myself collected) but I'm realizing that this might be one of the last pictures I'll have of them all together at the pool on a Friday afternoon in mid-September. 

Like...it just might never happen again (unless it happens again next week...which it could...but even then, that would technically be late September, not mid-September). 

That's exciting. And scary. 

Possibly harder than folding up those newborn clothes for the last time...

SAST

Andrew taught our FHE lesson today, hoping to teach the children about how "small and simple things" are what make great things happen. He showed the kids some slides of "expectations v. reality" Cake Fails, some primitive and elaborate Minecraft houses, a score by Beethoven and one of Miriam's very first scores, and so forth. In short, he was trying to connect to each of the kids through their hobbies, so that they could (hopefully) understand that mastering the basics and then tackling harder things (one step at a time) were what would lead them to accomplish things.

He even put up a picture of one of my textbooks this semester—Belcher's Writing Your Journal Article in 12 Weeks because she also breaks things down into little tasks (that will hopefully feel manageable once I complete them all). 

Eventually the kids picked up on what he was saying and guessed Alma 37:6 (which was the very scripture he had in mind). 

He'd even designed a little needlepoint for everyone to do, so that we could see how so many simple stitches come together to create something beautiful. But it takes patience and exactness and...

Anyway, the little piece he designed was just a rectangle with the letters SAST on it—standing for "small and simple things." 

The opening screen of his slideshow proclaimed SAST, so the kids were already curious about it when they walked in the room and were guessing what it might mean. Soon after they figured out it meant "small and simple things," Andrew put a slide on with a link to Karen Rinaldi's research on...well...suckiness.

Her book is called (It's Great) To Suck At Something, but he had a slide up with a snippet from some New York Times article (by the same title as her book), proclaiming the benefits of just...starting at the beginning of things and messing up and trying again—and trying new things, even if you know you're going to...suck...because trying new things is good. 

I don't know. I haven't read the book (and I'm not sure Andrew has either), but his point was that there's research out there showing that when people start new things, they're often not very good at it...and that's okay! Because that's...where you start learning stuff.

Anyway, everyone was very excited that SAST could mean either "small and simple things" or "suck at some-thing" because...that's how we roll. 

Popsicles and puddles

After months of planning and scheming, Benjamin and his friend finally got permission from both sets of parents to ride their bikes to a little paleta shop not too far from our house. They went in and bought popsicles for themselves (because that is exactly what ones does at a paleta shop) and rode home again, excited to share about their adventure.

"This is change from the store!" Benjamin said, emptying his pockets to show his younger siblings some shiny new coins. "The store gave me change back after I bought the popsicles!"

Pretty standard, really. But a novelty for him!

"I didn't really say much. I just said hi...kiwi...and then I said bye."

"In English or Spanish?" I asked him, in a little bit of a teasing way.

"I don't even know!" he said breathlessly, still suffering from the adrenaline rush caused by this terrific adventure in independence. "Rachel—how do you say bye in Spanish?"

"Uhh...adios."

"Oh. Okay. It was in English then, I think."

A Playground Day

 

This afternoon I took the kids and some of my course readings to the park because sunshine is important...and probably helps your brain digest dense writing a little easier...probably. This textbook isn't actually too dense. In fact, I would rate it quite readable. Very informative, but a pleasure to read. Some of the other articles I was assigned were...a lot to chew on. 

Anyway, we went for a lovely walk around and around and around the pond. We watched a train go by. We played. 

I read. They played. 

It was a lovely afternoon. 80°F, which felt nice and cool on the heels of the sweltering summer.

Here is Phoebe living her best life in the swing, begging to be pushed higher and higher:

A couple of things

Thing #1: Rachel drove me to campus (and home) all by herself today. She is a superstar.

Thing #2: Phoebe gets rather anxious on the days leading up to the day I need to be on campus. Starting on Sunday, every time anyone was asked to give a prayer, Phoebe would say, "Why them? Why not me?!"

We'd explain that everybody gets to take turns saying prayers. 

"I det to say de prayer 'fore Mommy dohs to pampus," she would then retort. 

(Using "de" for "the" is new for her; she used to always say "uh." Also, they way she substitutes /p/ for /c/ is hilarious. She can say /c/ perfectly fine, it's just a bit of assimilation going on when the word also has a /p/ in it, I think. Because there's this kid in co-op (which, first of all, she pronounces as "poh-op") and his name is Cooper. And it's hilarious because she talks about him all de time. "Is Pooper coming today? Where is Pooper? I see Pooper's mom!")

Today was campus day and, as we'd assured her tens of times beforehand, Phoebe got to say the prayer before I left (with Rachel, my chauffeur). We gathered around the table and I pulled her onto my lap.

"Dear Heavenly Father, thankful for the day. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen!" she rattled off mindlessly. Then without any prompting she stopped short in the middle of her "amen" (which she actually pronounces "may-em") and said very sincerely, "Oops! Dear Heavenly Father, thankful for the day. Please help Mommy and Rachel to get to campus safely. And help us to have a good day at home."

It was so sweet. It's always sweet when she mindfully prays.

Oh, last night she got to say family prayer as well, now that I think about it. And right in the middle of praying that Mommy would have a good day on campus she threw her arms around my neck and said, "I AM GOING TO MISS YOU SO MUCH!!"

It's been kind of a difficult transition for her (to have Mommy gone one day a week). It's been a difficult transition for me as well (though I don't mind the quietness of my office).

Paper arrow-planes and Fanuel-on-the-Wall

On Saturday afternoon, Zoë and I put stars on about thirty boxes I'd reserved over the course of several months. I drew the stars on (scrap—it had been printed on) paper and glued them to the boxes; Zoë painted them yellow. 

I took them to church on Sunday for singing time, where we're busy doing review for the sharing time presentation. The children sang their little hearts out in some "Primary's Got Talent" acts I challenged them with and a panel of judges rated their efforts by holding up a number of stars. I selected that number of children to go grab a box from around the room to build a wall of stars in front of me (we talked about building a strong foundation last week, so the kids were on top of their construction strategies). By the end of singing time we had a big wall of stars and I brought out the surprise—Samuel the Lamanite—to stand on the city wall while they children all threw paper airplanes at him to try to hit him. 

See, because "Samuel the Lamanite, high on the city wall, came to warn the people and repentance was his call." The people did not like what Samuel had to say, though, so they tried to kill him, but "arrows could not hit him, for a man of God was he."

The trick here is that I attached Samuel to a box fan...so those paper airplanes simply could not hit him.

Alexander and I tested several things last week—ping pong balls, ball pit balls, wads of paper, etc.—but it was the paper airplanes that worked the best...meaning that the fan could redirect them away from Samuel well enough. 

So during the last few minutes of singing time I let the kids throw paper airplanes at Samuel (high on the city wall) while we sang the verse about him from "Book of Mormon Stories." 

The kids had a blast. And we practiced four or five songs.

And then I recycled all my prep work for family night! How environmentally conscious of me!

We couldn't construct a full wall because Phoebe had made a house out of all the boxes and was feeling territorial.

Funny Phoebe (and other stories)

Admittedly, Phoebe is not always funny. 

Sometimes—not every day, but sometimes—she dumps out a full bottle of water onto a laptop. 

I've matured a lot as a parent (and as a person) since I started raising kids. And I just want to let the record show that I didn't even yell about the laptop (not really). I sat Phoebe in timeout and gave her a little lecture. And Zoë got a little lecture as well (since she's the one who gave Phoebe the water bottle in the first place). But I didn't even yell. 

I yelled at Benjamin through the window this evening—in full view of who knows how many neighbours—to "STOP HITTING YOUR BROTHER WITH THAT STICK RIGHT NOW OR YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET IT!" to which he responded, "I'm not hitting him hard..." to which I responded, "YOU'RE HITTING HIM ENOUGH AND I'M TELLING YOU TO STOP!"

And then when he had stopped hitting Alexander with the stick (or threatening to hit him or whatever was going on there) he refused to stop tormenting him, so I yelled, "HEY, BENJAMIN! I NEED YOU TO CLEAR SPIDERWEBS OFF THE HOUSE, LIKE NOW!"

Because clearing spiderwebs off the house is the same thing as regret, right?

Thoughts (and prayers)

I will share a whole lighthearted bunch of funny Phoebe saying soon...

But first I just have to say...more...about gun violence (which is out of control in this country, specifically, though not exclusively)...and about school shootings in particular. 

I hate that "school shootings" is even a term. But whether I like it or not, it is a cultural practice that if we have not embraced as a nation, we have accepted (see: JD Vance's remarks about school shootings being a "fact of life"). I think it's high time we—as a nation—push back against this cultural practice. 

We need to explore its roots and weed it out because trimming it down (by installing locks and alarms and posting armed sentinels at the constantly-locked doors) will do nothing (or at least very little) to end the violence. The root of the cause is elsewhere and that's what we need to get at.

Wednesday things

This morning Phoebe spilled a cup of water on a laptop and completely fried it. 

Zoë was doing math on the couch, lying on her stomach, with the laptop resting in front of her. And Phoebe walked up with a cup—and open water bottle, actually—and just...there goes that laptop.

She has been a challenging child lately (I mean—are open containers of water even allowed in the living room? They are not so...).

Fortunately she's very cute.

*****

We had our first day of co-op today. I'm teaching ukulele to...some group of kids. Are they grades 4 and 5? Who is to say? Zoë is in my class, which she's excited about. 

I was nervous about saying yes to co-op because I'm afraid I'm a little bit busy, but the moms really wanted me to come back to teach ukulele. So I said that I could as long as I didn't have to be a co-teacher for any other classes. So I'm teaching 8 hours, but my kids will end up with 32 hours of instruction (24 of which I'll be able to be somewhat alone to get some work done—I could be all the way alone if Phoebe would go to the preschool class, but...she won't go alone, so...Rachel went with her for the first hour today (while I was teaching), but Phoebe wouldn't go back alone and Rachel wanted to get some math work done, so Phoebe just hung out with me). 

I taught the kids outside because apparently there were some complaints about me wearing a mask while I was teaching last year. But, honestly, my kids have been sick since the middle of June so everyone should be grateful we're masking up and not sharing these germs we have (because they are brutal).

I checked for various hazards before spreading out blankets for the kids to sit on—anthills and goose poop, mostly—and the area I chose seemed to be mostly clear of those things. A couple of kids noticed some stray ants wandering across the picnic blanket, but nothing too concerning.

After class, a boy in the class wanted to show me some things that his brother had taught him already (his brother took ukulele with me last year) so I stopped to listen to him, and he's really quite good already (so I know I can bring in some more challenging stuff for some of the kids to work on while other kids are mastering the basics). And then I started stinging all over because...

I'd stopped to listen to him right on an anthill!

Allatoona Falls

I do need to write the introduction to a paper this evening, but Blogger uploaded my pictures in the exact order I wanted them (instead of the exact opposite order, which is what usually happens) and so to reward the system for doing a good job, I will write a little bit about today.

Evidently we didn't communicate things very well and so weekend plans got a bit complicated. I think Grandpa texted us rather early in the week about weekend plans. Tuesday, if I believe, which is one of our busier days around here. I was already nagging around about it on Wednesday morning. And at some point he wrote to his dad and made a plan.

The plan was that...because Andrew had taken so long to write back to his dad...and then his dad had taken so long to write back to Andrew...that Rachel was busy babysitting on Friday night and then on Saturday night the girls planned a wild night of crocheting with their friends, so if the kids were going to squeeze in a sleepover at Grandpa's house it was going to have to be Sunday to Monday (because it's a long weekend). 

So they planned to go up on Sunday for dinner with some of Darla's kids and grandkids. And then they'd watch some movies (a kid movie before putting Zoë and Alexander to bed and then a scary movie with the big kids because Grandpa likes scary movies (he calls them "suspenseful")) and then sleep over. 

In the morning, we'd do a hike...and then return for lunch at Grandpa and Darla's and then go swimming. 

Boom—weekend planned.

Benjamin informed me at church that he'd forgotten his pyjamas. This was slightly problematic because in order to get to Grandpa and Darla's house in time for dinner, the kids had planned to leave directly from the church building. But, I mean, pyjamas aren't the end of the world, so I was like, "Well, deal with it."

It's not like we hadn't told the kids precisely what to pack—a change of clothes (with underwear! because Alexander forgot underwear the last time he slept over at Grandpa's house...but had arrived in his swimsuit...so he just wore his swimsuit all weekend), pyjamas, toothbrush, swimsuit. I mean, they were all bustling around packing things Sunday morning.

"Who is going to pack the toothpaste?" I heard Benjamin.

"I will!" Zoë volunteered.

"I'll pack the melatonin!" Alexander offered.

He got out a ziplock bag and counted out three doses of melatonin. One for Zoë (the most important dose) and then one for him and Benjamin...just in case.

They seemed to be doing well.

But it turns out they all forgot their pyjamas! 

And then Rachel and Miriam somehow didn't get the memo about bringing swimsuits!

And then, Andrew and I left the house en route to the trailhead, thinking that everyone else would be meeting us there. But they were blithely sitting around playing "Happy Salmon" (a card game), thinking that we were going to drive all the way to them before we all drove to the trail head together. But the park is between our house and Grandpa & Darla's house, so we had no intention of doing that.

Luckily I texted Rachel to tell her we were running a bit late but would be at the park in 5 minutes or so and she was like, "Wait...at the park??"

So they all scrambled to rush to the park (where the trailhead was) and we took our sweet time to get there (stopping at a gas station to fill the van and take Phoebe potty). We arrived within minutes of each other. 

I got out of the van—in my swimsuit—and the kids were all like, "Why are you in your swimsuit?!"

"There's a waterfall at the end of the hike," I said. "Remember...we talked about this..."

"We did not!" Rachel said. 

"Benjamin—we totally talked about this!" I said. "Because remember you wanted to do that other hike."

"You can't swim at that hike."

"I know! But that other hike was farther away for Grandpa and Darla, so we picked this one and you can swim at this hike. I showed you pictures. I told you to pack your swimsuits for the hike..."

"Oh, yeah..."

So, it was a morning filled with miscommunication, but in the end we made it and it was a beautiful day for hiking, given the season (which is still hot). 

Our first point of interest was this sand mine: