Filters

Finals are upon us. 

Or at least upon me. 

And I'm feeling it. 

But we'll get through it. 

The other day I was talking with Rachel and Andrew rather late in the evening, after Rachel and I got home from campus. I have three major papers due in the next three weeks and didn't feel like I had a lot written for any of them (and still somewhat feel like that), but I had to do an oral presentation on one of my papers and when I compiled my slide notes for that I found that I had nearly 2000 words. 

And I called it my first draft. 

"I already have 2000 words in my first draft. They're bad words, but they're words," I said.

"You're using bad words?!" Rachel said, with some feigned pearl-clutching.

"Would you like to know what people really call first drafts in my world? Poopy first drafts, that's what. But they don't say poopy."

"They say crappy?!" Rachel gulped, continuing her feigned horror.

No. They don't say crappy, either...though that's also a word we avoid in our house, to be honest. They use a much stronger word. 

I Saw Three Ships

This morning Andrew took Miriam to record "I Saw Three Ships" at the Johns Creek United Methodist chapel—on the organ from Trinity Church. It's a lovely organ!

And Miriam plays this piece phenomenally well! I'm just in awe of her talent!

Grandpa reminded me the other day that I can boast that I taught her how to play the piano. And that's true! I did! I taught her how to play the piano so well that I soon had to find an actual teacher for her (Aunt Linda) and we've been on the hunt for more and more advanced teachers for her ever since!

She's working with Ms. Deb right now and it's been wonderful! Ms. Deb is as excited about Miriam as we are! We love her studio!

Phoebe is THREE!

Phoebe finally got to open her presents on Saturday morning. But first we had to finish folding the clean laundry, which she was excited about because sitting in laundry baskets is one of her favourite activities:

On Wednesday Phoebe turned three

As I think I've mentioned already this semester (and probably more than once), but Tuesday—Wednesday—Thursday is a real slog for us. Tuesdays are my big day on campus. Wednesday we have co-op every other week, music lessons every week, and church activities in the evening. Thursday is Andrew's big day on campus. And...it's just a lot. 

It's even more of "a lot" when Andrew's out of town.

He went to Montreal to run a workshop this week and...it was a lot, a lot. 

In the middle of the whirlwind that was Wednesday, Phoebe quietly, and in a very self-satisfied manner, turned three. With no expectations about how the day should go, she was simply satisfied knowing that it was finally her birthday.

We didn't open any presents. We didn't have cake or ice cream. But it was her birthday, by golly!

She was so excited to go to co-op because she knew they were going to call her up to the front to sing to her. And they did. And she loved it. 

She bravely went to the preschool class for the first hour and then hung out with me the second hour while I tried to get some work accomplished. And I did—I finished reviewing a paper!

Digging in the LEGO bin

Quality time is tricky to identify because it can look like so many different things. 

Today, for Phoebe, it was making sure she got her morning "huggles" in. 

For Rachel it was making sure to go on a midday walk. 

For Alexander it was reading a chapter of a novel aloud before bed.

For Zoë it was getting to make dinner with Daddy.

For Miriam it was...surely something...checking in on her English project?

For FHE we all sat around and the kitchen table and looked up scriptures about remembering. Today was Remembrance Day and I forgot to do anything with the kids earlier in the day (the boys had doctor appointments this morning, so we did that), so we looked for things the scriptures ask us to remember and talked about the importance of not forgetting valuable lessons. That was some quality time right there. 

But perhaps my favourite little bit of quality time from today was following Benjamin down to the basement to look at how his LEGO entry for the Festival of Trees is coming along and then pawing through bin after bin of LEGO to find more and more white pieces for him to use so he doesn't have to dismantle another creation that's hogging all the white bricks. 

Technically you're supposed to enter your creation under the age of the oldest contributor. Benjamin was worried my "assistance" would disqualify him, but I assured him that having his mother look for certain bricks wasn't a meaningful contribution to the project at all—he's the one doing all the building!

Benjamin's LEGO creations are phenomenal. He's a bold and creative builder.

My creations are...

Why did you change it?!

I'm both embarrassed and pleased to announce that after 5.5 years in this house, our upstairs hallway bathroom is fully functional! 

Remember that one time when the people who owned the house before us put in a new shower but somehow put the shower liner under the shower threshold instead of over it, so water was leaking out under the threshold for years...and the entire subfloor rotted away...so we had to gut the bathroom down to the studs and start over from square one?

Remember how a pipe burst during the renovation and flooded the ceiling of the bathroom below and the whole thing collapsed into the other?

I literally have nightmares about that bathroom.

But, we paid thousands and thousands of dollars to fix and...it worked for a while...until we started noticing wet spots on the ceiling after the shower was used. 

So we stopped using it.

Natural back, Cool Joe!

For Christmas the primary children will be singing a medley of "Samuel Tells of Baby Jesus" and "Star Bright" that Miriam arranged. This week I worked with the kids on the variation to the tune of "Samuel Tells," which lowers the part a bit for the primary boys and young men to sing more easily. And then we turned our attention to "Star Bright." 

We have three little Korean boys in our primary and they knew that we'd be learning a Korean part for the song (we're doing English, Spanish, and Korean), so they started chanting, "Korean first! Korean first!"

How could I not do Korean first then? 

I introduced the kids to the Korean words a couple of weeks ago and it was...rough. 

So this week I listened and listened and listened to the Korean (thank you, Google translate) and paired sounds of the Korean with similar sounding words in English...like this:

당신은 밤을 (Dancing 'n pummel)
낮으로 바꾸죠 (Natural back, Cool Joe!)

To Be Atermined

Thinking about my sweet little toddler Rachel and all the funny things she used to say, I think enough time has elapsed that I can share a sweet little teenage Rachel story, which is simply this:

You know the acronyms TBA and TBD? 

They're thrown out quite regularly. One place in particular that TBA shows up in our religious culture is in the ward bulletin, usually in place of putting any names down for opening and closing prayers. 

Typically these are listed as the "invocation," (not an incantation, Alexander), a prayer used to invoke the spirit, and a "benediction," a blessing or good word (of prayer) offered at the close of the meeting. And quite often these invocations and benedictions are unassigned...until they're assigned at the last minute when the bishop or one of his counselors shakes your hand.

So beside invocation it will say "TBA" and beside benediction it will say "TBA" and you just kind of have to hope it's not you (unless you happen to be the kind of person who likes praying in public and then—kudos)!

Anyway, poor Rachel knew about TBD from other contexts—schedules, itineraries, etc. will often say some date or time or amount of something is TBD. That's "To Be Determined." 

And for years Rachel simply figured that TBA stood for "To Be Atermined" (whatever that means).

So now we say it whenever we see TBA and one of these days I know we're going to say it aloud in an important meeting by accident because...that's just how life goes!

Beautiful things in my world

On Monday I went out walking with the kids. Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday has been such a slog this semester. But on Mondays we can take things a little slower. 

We had time to admire the leaves.

Here comes Simon! Here comes Simon!

We've been very busy with animals lately. 

The kids have been taking care of their own cat, of course, as well as the hermit crabs—which all had been on a deep dive under the sand, and only recently reemerged (much to Benjamin's relief). 

Then there's Luna puppy, who the kids still take out for a romp three times a week. But Luna had a friend over last week so the kids were taking out two puppies (bliss for Phoebe). 

And then Rachel has also been taking care of her former YW leader's cats the last couple of weeks as well. There are three of them: Simon, Xander, and Rose.

Last Tuesday as I was writing a list of things to do on the board before leaving for campus, Benjamin reminded me to put Luna up there, so I did. 

"Oh! And the cats!" I said. "Miriam's going to have to give Simon his shot this evening because we won't be home in time for Rachel to do that."

Two things you should know: Rachel drives me to campus and Simon's care includes twice-daily injections. There are just so many things to know in the world.

So, I'm writing on the board...

▢  Luna (lunchtime walk)

▢  Simon (next injection around 8:00)

And because I am me, I started singing while I was writing.

"Here comes Simon! Here comes Simon! Here comes Simon...my little funny bunny!" and so forth.

Drop and give me twenty!

On Sunday during dinner we usually ask the kids what they learned at church that day. Other days (and Sundays as well, to be honest) we ask what their favourite part of the day was. We always start with Phoebe and work our way up in age order. This week, Phoebe surprised us all by telling us:

"Well...Daddy makes me do push ups at snack time."

"Push ups?" I repeated. "Daddy makes you do...push ups...during sack time?"

"Yeah."

"What do you mean?"

Phoebe slithered off her chair and got down on the floor in push-up position. 

"Like this!" she said. "He makes me do so many!"

After she did a few (very poor) push ups she climbed back up into her chair. 

"That's what you learned at church today?" I clarified. "That Daddy makes you do push ups at snack time?"

"Yeah. Daddy makes me do push ups! He makes me do so many push ups!"

Andrew, who had been laughing too hard to speak finally wheezed out, "What do you mean?"

"PUSH. UPS." she said firmly. "I'm talking about push ups! I can show you!"

A broken bowl

The good news is my kitchen floor is (now) freshly mopped.

The bad news is that I only mopped it because Benjamin dropped a hot bowl of potato soup while he was getting it out of the microwave.

The explosion was loud and scary. 

Shards of glass went flying from one side of the kitchen clear to the other (and skittered into the dining room...and even made it onto the counter and the tops of the dishes drying in the top rack of the dishwasher, which we thought was particularly impressive). The soup splattered a bit, but its spray radius was nothing compared to how the glass scattered.

Jack-o-Lantern Carving

Halloween morning got a little rough at our house, with me losing my temper because I have so much to do, so many balls to juggle, and some of us (who shall remain anonymous) have been difficult to motivate to complete their schoolwork. It was...a frustrating morning...and Halloween, too, so I'm sure that contributed to the general chaos of the day. 

Also, a neighbour was having some trees removed in their yard so we were hearing chainsaws all day and...I should have been aware of how that was affecting me so I could have put earplugs in or something (too much ambient noise tends to make me really tense), but I didn't. Instead I just lost my temper in a huge way.

See this pumpkin? That's a little bit how our morning felt.

Happy Halloween 2024!

Phoebe had her heart set on being a puppy for Halloween. Kind of. She went through a lot of other ideas before settling on a puppy but knowing what I know about Phoebe I eventually decided to start putting together a puppy costume for her since no matter what other idea sprang into her mind...she kept coming back to "puppy."

And not just any puppy. Luna Puppy.

So I thought I'd just crochet a little hat for her with puppy dog ears. I pulled her onto my lap and we searched for a pattern for a crochet puppy hat. Many adorable options popped up.

"I want that one!" Phoebe said, pointing at the screen. 

"Which one?" I asked. "That doesn't tell me very much."

"That one!"

"Which one? This one with the cute little face on it?"

"No. That one."

"The one with its tongue sticking out?"

"No."

Phoebe wanted the design by Kristen Holloway—the plain one with flopped-over ears (the middle picture on the top row).

And she wanted it in black, just like Luna Puppy.

A Musical Number for Carter

Grandpa flew out to Utah for our cousin Carter's baptism this weekend and suggested that we perform a special musical number, specifically a special organ arrangement (Ryan Murphy) of "I Know that My Savior Loves Me" (Bell and Creamer). 

Grandpa gave us a copy of the music in September and I taught it to my kids by singing it for their lullaby every night for the next six weeks! We recorded it for family night a couple of weeks ago and...it went alright. 

There were a few complications. For instance, we couldn't sing in the chapel because the organ drowned out our voices. So we sang in the hallway, but then we had trouble hearing the organ...so Andrew stood in the doorway between the hallway and the chapel trying to conduct both our little choir and Miriam at the organ so that we could kind of be together. It's not the best recording ever made—we have some loose cannons in our troupe (*cough*Phoebe*cough*) but it'll do.

The kids sang their little hearts out. Grandpa played it at the baptism this afternoon. It's like we were there...but also not...

Perhaps we'll brush it off for a musical number sometime.

I suppose another complication is that although it's an organ and SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) piece, we only had the organ music, so we kind of made up where our voices were supposed to come in and sang in unison rather than in parts. We could learn parts if we were invested enough...

For now, though, it's time to turn our attention to Christmas music.

 

You are a triceratops

Last night I was telling Andrew about a comment a peer made to me about the other night after reading some of my writing: "You sure don't toot your own horn much!"

And—despite my devoted, decades-long presence on this public weblog, which could be considered a form of tooting one's own horn, albeit a rather antiquated form in this day and age of rapidly transforming digital platforms—I don't really think I do toot my horn all that much. 

I rather enjoy being in the background. 

Oh, I like to be appreciated as much as anyone else, but I prefer passive accolades. 

Anyway, Andrew said that I would probably do well—at least in the academic world—to toot my own horn a little more, but even if I didn't, I should "remember that you have a horn, even if you don't toot it."

"Like a unicorn," I said. "Has horn. Does not toot it."

"You are not like a unicorn. You," he said, "are a triceratops!"

Spooky Story Contest

Both Zoë and Benjamin submitted stories to the Georgia Writer's Museum "Spooky Story Contest" this year. They worked on their stories from July to October, going through plenty of drafts and revisions. Zoë must have tested out five different stories or so. At first she really wanted to set her story at The Devil's Tramping Grounds in North Carolina because that sounded like an interesting place to her, but she was having trouble imaging any details for her story because she's never been there.

So I suggested that she set the story somewhere she's been. 

She eventually settled on Doll's Head Trail, which we hiked last year, and ended up writing a rather hilarious story about a squirrel named Pipipash. We loved that character so much, but Zoë wisely determined that the number of giggles we were stifling meant that her story was silly and not spooky.

Guys—at one point Pipipash passionately called out, "I'm not all fur and no brains!" 

Pipipash was the best. 

But Pipipash was ultimately cut from the story. 

What Zoë settled on was a little too creepy for me. Her doll is a little too blood thirsty for my taste, but Zoë insisted that to water her doll's refrain down would detract from the feeling of the story. 

And that's why I'm not a spooky story writer myself, I guess. 

Anyway, we were checking the website all day for the results...until we gave up...and then we got busy doing all of our Halloween preparations and I didn't think to check until the kids had headed out to go trick-or-treating and I was in the middle of my class and my teacher said something about the emerging scholar award at LRA and was like, "I wonder who won this year...oh, it's so-and-so" and I was like, "Wonder who won, indeed!"

So while he was looking up emerging scholars, I hopped on over to the Georgia Writer's Museum and saw Zoë's name—1st place for fourth grade! 

And then I just had to hold that information inside me until she finally got home from trick-or-treating (she was the very last child to make it home because she stayed up at her friend's house instead of walking home with everyone else). 

Anyway, a very exciting evening for her! You can read her story over at the Georgia Writer's Musuem website!

Miriam's 15!

Miriam turned 15 on Friday! 

She (and Rachel) had some friends over for a game/movie night so we had her birthday dinner and cake on Saturday, but she still opened her presents on Friday. She didn't have much on her list, but asked for some new clothes, some novelty pins, and a book. Most of what was on her list was actually marked "maybe for Christmas?" but that was probably because she only got me her list a few days before her birthday and knew those items would need more time to ship. 

For example, she wants new organ shoes. I can't find or ship those in a couple of days. 

Last time (or the last couple of times) we just got her (boys'/men's) latin dance shoes because they're cheaper than actual organ shoes but are...along the same lines. But now that she thinks her feet have stopped growing she wants real organ shoes. So we'll probably look into that for Christmas. 

Anyway, here's Miriam opening presents, with Phoebe right beside her so that Phoebe can be in charge of telling Miriam which order to open her presents in:

"I've made a huge mistake"

As emotionally exhausted as I was from this week (and despite having a lot of reading and writing to do), Andrew encouraged me to go to bed around 8:30 this evening, shortly after I finished reading bedtime stories to Alexander and Phoebe...and subsequently fell asleep on the couch after they skipped off to roast marshmallows with Daddy.

Here's the thing—it's Friday night! And Miriam's birthday! 

And although we decided to hold off on celebrating as a family (because (a) neither Rachel nor I had time to put a cake together this week and (b) the girls invited friends over so we'd have to rush through our family stuff and I don't like rushing through family stuff) the girls did plan a little fire pit/game/movie night with their friends. 

In a brilliant move, the mother of one of the girls' friends invited Benjamin and Zoë to hang out at their house with their pre/teens, so those two weren't feeling left out.

But Alexander and Phoebe kind of were. 

We had intended to get outside and let them roast some marshmallows before coming in for bedtime, but one thing led to another, and then it was too late to go out to roast marshmallows because the teenagers had moved on to other activities and we didn't want to interrupt. So instead Andrew got out our little "table fire" thingy (which Alexander was a little afraid of because the last time we used it he grabbed the grate without realizing it was hot and burned his poor little hand so badly; fortunately future problems are easily prevented by remembering that everything about this production is hot) and roasted marshmallows inside with those two. 

And I fell asleep on the couch and was subsequently put to bed at the same time as Phoebe. 

When I protested, Andrew said, "But doesn't 12 hours of sleep sound glorious?"

Now, that's true. 12 hours of sleep does sound glorious, but as tired as I am theoretically...my body is also used to getting up and going after five hours of sleep or so. And that's typically five hours of interrupted sleep because Phoebe still doesn't sleep through the night consistently.

Anyway, around 2 AM my body and brain were like, "Time to start another day!"

Turns out going to bed at 8:30 was a "huge mistake."

So I got up—and took a melatonin—and read an article that wasn't on my list of things to read, but which felt important to read anyway, and about half of another article, and did Duolingo, made some edits to my mom's paper, and now I'm finally feeling like I could maybe fall back asleep, so perhaps I'll try it.

Twelve times I've cried this week:

(more truthfully in the past two days)

After a particularly rough meeting with a professor. After a particularly cheering meeting with a different professor. While adding another cousin to the spreadsheet of relatives with the BRCA gene mutation. When Matthew Cuthbert died. When Anne found renewed pleasure in life. When a friend texted to apologize for a lapse of compassion years ago. When that same friend suggested she take my younger-older kids to hang out with her younger-older kids while the older-older kids are hanging out at my house. After my oldest-older kid submitted her college application. When a cousin texted me out of the blue. When I listened to a new arrangement next-to-oldest-older kid is making of a Christmas song. When a girl in my class put her hand on my shoulder after my presentation and said that I did wonderfully and she appreciates having me in class. While reading about the needless destruction of the Jaredite nation. After seeing images of people sitting in the dirt, held at gunpoint, wearing nothing but underwear.

Maybe you've guessed it, maybe you've not...too bad.

While my days on campus are very quiet and I am able to get quite a lot of focused reading and writing in, I also tend to feel rather nervous about going to class while also feeling guilty about not being home with my kids. It's complicated, I know.

But, I always leave them with a long list of things to do and they do just fine with Daddy at home. 

My favourite part is when they email me (or text me or send a discord message of) little bits of assignments, to prove to me that they're doing their assigned work. 

Today I asked them to read some Halloween poems (their choice) and then to revisit their Halloween poems from last week to see if they wanted to revise their poem or perhaps write a new poem. 

Inspired by Phoebe's relationship with her pumpkins, Zoë wrote this poem. To give you context, Phoebe has been sleeping with not one but two pumpkins every night for weeks now. She carries them around and plays with them all day, pretends to feed them, takes them outside with her, drags them back inside, brings them in the van when we go out, reads them stories. It's...it's a lot. So read this poem knowing that we tuck in Phoebe and her gourds every night:

My best friend’s suit is bright orange, but has no tie at all

His nose is always yellow, and always set aglow.

His eyes are cozy triangles; but do not bring him in bed—

He’s round and hard and lumpy, as everyone has said.

Maybe you’ve guessed it, maybe you’ve not, but…

My best friend’s a pumpkin, and he’s the only friend I’ve got!

The attention to meter and rhyme is spectacular. There are a few places where the language could be tweaked, but overall I was so impressed that I thought for sure she had pulled out a mentor poem and simply adapted it. But evidently this was all her work.

Space heater

It's mid-October and sometimes chilly, but we're firmly decided on not turning the heater on until November. Just to see if we can (we totally can). 

Andrew (the cheater) moved a space heater into his office and when he turns that puppy on and closes his office door, things get pretty roasty-toasty inside. 

I was in the kitchen just now and he left his roasty-toasty office, leaving the door wide open. 

When I left the kitchen I had a moment of panic when I was hit by a waft of warm air, right in the face. 

"What in the world?!" I asked to no one in particular, sniffing the air. "Is the heater on? What is going on?"

Rachel and Miriam came to investigate with me (the little kids, the younger kids, the kids from Benjamin on down were taking care of Luna) and they agreed that the air was certainly much warmer at head level than ground level. 

This makes sense...because hot air rises. 

But where was the air coming from?!

It was Miriam who pointed out that Andrew's office heater was on and that air was spilling out of his office into the hallway. On his way back to his office he encountered us all bobbing up and down in the hallway, "Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold."

The difference was astounding. 

Quadoculars

Phoebe found a toilet paper roll ("toy-yet paper roll," as she says) and coloured on it and started using it as a telescope, only she wasn't satisfied with the idea of a telescope. Only one eye? How lame is that?!

"These 'noculars are broken," she insisted. "I need another toy-yet paper roll so I can fix them into real 'noculars!"

I didn't know where another toilet paper roll was off the top of my head (because I'd just donated all our toilet paper rolls to Alexander's recycled art class at co-op), but Miriam said she and Rachel had a toilet paper roll (or two or three) kicking around their bathroom. 

She brought them up and Phoebe was in toilet paper roll heaven. 

Do you know what's better than a lousy single-lens telescope? 

Binoculars.

Obviously.

Do you want to know what's better than binoculars?

Why, quadoculars, of course!!

A costume party

Our next door neighbour had a birthday party last night and both Zoë and Alexander were invited. It was a costume party, which is always fun, but always a little bit frantic because it moves my costume deadline from Halloween to...whenever the party is. On a more positive note, two halloween costumes are completely finished so that's a little bit off my plate the next ten days or so!

Zoë wanted to be Fleur Delacour this year. I ordered a dress for her that she felt matched the Beauxbatons vibe. She has been living in it for a week—sleeping in it, playing in it. We basically have to wrestle her out of it in order to wash it.

Primary Program

We had our primary program today and (it ran a little long but) it went great! 

Phoebe made Grandpa take her onto the stand to join her nursery class in singing "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam." Zoë played "Book of Mormon Stories" while the rest of the primary kids sang. We had a mother-son duet. Another family sang a song with ukulele accompaniment. We sang a song with sign language ("I Feel My Saviour's Love"). We even broke out the handbells for one of our songs ("We'll Bring the World His Truth"). The kids did wonderfully!

Everyone also had a speaking part and did great!

Homecoming queen

Rachel's friend Hunter invited her to go to homecoming at her high school. Hunter and her sister came to live with their aunt (who is in our ward) a few years ago. Hunter is the other senior young woman in our ward and for a long time she refused to come to anything because she thought she'd be all alone at activities. But then her sister threw herself a birthday party and both Rachel and Miriam came and Hunter was like, "I forgot about Rachel!" So now she comes to church activities and dances and game nights and both Rachel and Hunter are happy to have another "old" young woman around (since the next oldest young women are (a) Hunter's sister and then (b) Miriam, who are both about two years younger than Rachel and Hunter).

Anyway, Hunter's sister is rather gregarious and talkative. She has a ton of friends at school and wanted to go to homecoming with them. And Hunter wanted to go to homecoming since it's her senior year of high school...but Hunter is not as gregarious as her sister. But she knew that she had fun hanging out at church dances with Rachel, so she asked if Rachel would come with her. 

So those three girls got together and took pictures and had dinner and then went to the dance. They had a fun time (though they all not-so-secretly agree that church dances are superior because (a) the music isn't quite as loud, (b) they allow kids to go outside to get some fresh air, (c) they play complete songs rather than snippets, (d) they play at least a few slow songs, (e) people aren't making out all over the place). 

Rachel drove herself over to Hunter's house, where she found that she (Rachel) and Hunter's sister had picked out matching dresses. In all the pictures they took together they put Hunter in the middle, flanked by dark green dresses. I don't have those pictures, but I do have a few I took of Rachel before she left. 

Here she is holding a white pumpkin, poor Yorick:

Phoebe the caboose

I snapped this picture one fine morning when we were all having a little sleep-in together. "Little sleep-ins" is how we survive because this little girl is still not the very best sleeper. We take the sleep when we can get it...and where we can get it. 

She enjoys being close by, both a night and during the day. 

Alexander is 7!

Today is Alexander's birthday. 

It's also Canadian Thanksgiving. 

And Indigenous People's Day in the United States.

Sometimes I feel bad for celebrating Thanksgiving on what was Columbus Day in the States (since both Canadian Thanksgiving and that holiday land on the second Monday in October) because that might look like I'm celebrating Columbus Day (which I'm not), which losing its footing to the counter-celebration of Indigenous People's Day (with good reason). 

Though Canadian Thanksgiving has a separate history from American Thanksgiving it's truly no less colonial in nature. And the selection of the second Monday in October—though claimed to be because it's often the last nice weekend of the season—is suspect. Canadian holidays often align with American holidays even if we're completely unaware of it.

Ever heard of Family Day? It's a holiday that celebrates families—you get a day off of school and work and there are discounts at family friendly venues and it's great fun! It's the third Monday in February...which just happens to be when they're celebrating Presidents' Day south of the 49th. 

Coincidence? 

I think not. I really think it's simply convenient for Canadian institutions to have these kinds of "bank holidays" on the same schedule that the American Superpowers have their bank holidays.

But that's just my theory. 

Anyway, we had Thanksgiving dinner for Alexander's birthday dinner and Andrew went all out because we aren't hosting Thanksgiving this year (for the first time in a long time)! 

Here's our little harvest of garden carrots that we had with our meal:

Pumpkin patch

Alexander, Zoë, and Benjamin got to sleep over at Grandpa and Darla's house, along with two of Darla's grandchildren—Noah and Minnie. Noah is Benjamin's age and Minnie is Zoë's age. Alexander was just along for the ride and loved being the odd-man out and the youngest kid around because Grandpa and Darla just doted on him.

They decorated Halloween sugar cookies, they made little corn on the cob decorations out of beads, they made a turkey craft, they watched a movie, they camped in the back yard...they had a great time!

The older kids played some Dungeons and Dragons (which also happens to be the movie they watched). 

We met them at a little pumpkin party hosted by the realtor who sold Grandpa's house recently. He (the realtor) was a good friend of Darla's husband Dave (who was also in realty, though in commercial realty rather than residential realty). Anyway, they had a bunch of pumpkins scattered across their lawn for people to choose. I think we took an embarrassing number home...but Phoebe was just so excited to be at the pumpkin patch. She wanted to take all of the pumpkins home.

She had been consoling herself with this pumpkin patch idea all weekend!

"I don't get to sleep over at Grandpa-Darla's," she'd explain. "But I do get to go to the pumpkin patch. I do!" 

She was living her best life, collecting a whole pile of pumpkins for herself.

The dentist

We took everyone to the dentist over the course of the past two weeks. Here's the low down:

1. No cavities for anyone. Electric toothbrushes are amazing.
2. My dentist really wants me to get braces to fix my bite. 
3. Miriam is having a lingual frenectomy/frenotomy this week. Apparently she's been tongue-tied her whole life and...that's true. She has. We have made fun of her inability to stick out her tongue for ages. But she never had any trouble eating. And she never had any sort of speech impediment. Apparently she's just really good at compensating. But our dentist said there's lots of new research linking tongue posture to breathing issues like sleep apnea later in life (see also: the reason the dentist wants me to fix my bite). 
4. Miriam, Benjamin, and Zoë all need to visit the orthodontist as well. Miriam is ready for round two of braces, which should go a lot quicker than round one. Benjamin needs to pull down what we call his, uh, narwhal tooth. And Zoë has several teeth that haven't erupted (but which are present and need to be coaxed down somehow). She's had gaps for years it feels like. Alexander was on the cusp of needing his gums sliced to allow his front teeth through but I think the threat of that made him will his two front teeth to start making their way down after months of that big ol' gap up front.
5. Rachel laughed at everyone because she has beautiful teeth.
6. Phoebe was so sweet and cooperative (which was a real shocker given her behaviour in the past).  

Halloween Twister

After a brief talk about traditions for our family night lesson, we broke out our traditional Halloween Twister board because...we've been playing it during October for years and years and years. It's an easy tradition to do every year because we always have the supplies on hand so it costs nothing (at this point, though I think it once cost us like $5 or something), requires virtually no prep work (aside from making the kids pick up all their stuff from the floor), and everyone seems to enjoy it (though also multiple people cried about it). 

Those are the best kind of traditions, in my opinion—free, easy, and fun (the tears are optional).

Here are the youngest three playing together (though apparently that's an offensive term to Alexander because he's a middle-aged kid):

Conference crochet

Rachel spent the Saturday morning and afternoon sessions finishing up some essays while passively listening, so that she could go to the Saturday evening watch party the youth were having without worrying about whether or not she was going to complete all of her homework. She's taking a full load of classes at BYU-I this semester. 

On Sunday she sat and watched conference with the rest of the family, bringing along her (2023) temperature blanket to work on. I grabbed a needle to start working in her ends while she was crocheting. When Phoebe saw us both working on the blanket together she came up and said, "Ooooh! Tan I be in dat banetet wif you?"

And how could we say no to a request like that?

It actually isn't Handel...it's Beethoven.

 I didn't sit and listen to Music and the Spoken Word this morning, but it was on and some of the kids were watching—Miriam in particular was sure to watch it. When I walked by the room and heard the 'Hallelujah Chorus' from Beethoven's "Christ on the Mount of Olives" playing, I poked my head in and said approvingly, "This is a cool arrangement."

"Oh, it actually isn't Handel," Miriam said. "It's Beethoven."

"I...didn't even try to guess the composer, so..."

"Oh!" Miriam stammered. "I just..."

"Did you think it was Handel?"

It was clearly not Handel, but I had missed the introduction to the song, while she had not, so she knew it was Beethoven.

"No! I knew it was Beethoven. I thought you thought it was Handel."

"Weird," I said. "Because...once again...I didn't even make a guess."

We spent the rest of the day joking about liking things (and having those things not be by Handel). Miriam took those teasings like the champion she is. 

But then in the last few minutes of the last session of General Conference, it was announced that the closing song would be 'The Glory of the Lord.' I looked over at Miriam.

"Not that 'Glory to the Lord!'" she insisted.

And then President Nelson started speaking quoting from Handel's Messiah and before we knew it—yes!—the Tabernacle Choir was singing Handel's own "And the Glory of the Lord."

We all laughed for several minutes before settling down to enjoy the song.

A boy and (not) his dog

It's really too bad that I'm not a dog person.

Or a cat person, as it turns out. I don't know if it's because I'm "the mom" (they tell me that's what I am) or what, but our cat will come and meow and meow and meow at me like she's one of my own whiney children and it drives me nuts. She doesn't cuddle. She makes huge messes with her food. 

I have turned into my mom: "Animals belong outside!"

Like, I have enough trouble keeping up with my humans, thank you very much. 

And as needy as our kitty is, I imagine dogs to be much, much needier. They need walking and playing and they're all the time panting with their stinky doggy breath and shedding their doggy fur. 

But I can understand why people love them and it's really too bad I'm not a dog person because Benjamin is a dog person. Or, at least, he is a dog's person. 

I attend the University of Georgia (Go Dawgs!) and our mascot—evidently the greatest in college football history—is a...dog (again, Go Dawgs!)...specifically an English bulldog (Go Dawgs!). But because of the whole dog thing, Athens tends to be a very dog-friendly city. That's perhaps an overgeneralization, but I've seen dogs lots of places on campus and around town that I haven't seen on other university campus/towns. People are very proud of their dogs. 

Golden Shovels with Green Gables

We've been reading Anne of Green Gables and started a "golden shovel" poem together (ages ago). I had the kids finish up their poems drafts on Tuesday while I was on campus and it was lovely to see these come through in my email.

Basically, we took a line from AoGG, "The birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine," put those words down the righthand side of our page and then wrote into those words. It can be harder than it sounds to pull off!

Here's Benjamin's:

 I was meandering through the
countless birches
that made up the greenwood in
Tongass NationalForest. The
fir and maple hollow
that I found myself turned in turned
into a burning  torch as
the golden
flames reached the temperature as
burning sunshine.

Looking forward to some calmness

So much happened last week...month? 

With the school shooting in Winder at the beginning of the month, and then the hurricane at the end of the month, we have felt like our phones have been just about blowing up with public safety alerts. We were very lucky to have so little damage in the storm. Our friends in Tallahassee didn't suffer too badly either. We can't say the same for our friends in Augusta and especially not for our friends in Asheville (though I did finally hear back from my friend Emily (who taught English in Voronezh with me) and she is, at least, safe. Asheville has been entirely cut off from the world—no roads, no internet. Western North Carolina was hit very hard. 

So we've been feeling like we're in a perpetual state of panic and/or mourning this month. 

*****

Naturally, the kids all skipped out to play outside once the hurricane blew over. The neighbourhood kids were all so happy to have had such a long weekend. The grown ups were all stressed out about trying to catch up on the work they'd put off (while attending to hours of household maintenance and childcare duties they weren't necessarily planning on (I mean, we always plan on having our kids at home while we work because that's our norm, but our neighbours typically send their kids to school when they work at home (perfectly valid); and none of us had really set time aside in our work calendars to prep for a hurricane, you know? That's outside of our normally scheduled week). What I'm trying to say is...that we sent Phoebe outside to play under the supervision of her older siblings. 

Naturally, they eventually abandoned her because—let's face it—babies can get kind of boring. So the kids were all playing together and then Phoebe was just...exploring the yard on her own. 

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: