Pre-trick-or-treating

Our neighbour Miss J recently got a job as a STEM teacher at an elementary school and this week she did a whole bunch of spooky science experiments. She texted me yesterday to say that she had some supplies left over and invited the kids to come hang out in her garage to do some of the experiments she did with her kids. Mostly she had some dry ice left over and wanted to do some carbon dioxide bubbles with the kids (since dry ice doesn't keep too well). 

So here are the kids making carbon dioxide bubbles:

Snuggle time with Phoebe

 

Phoebe has been ending up in our bed every night the last little while. She is a very aggressive snuggler with no concept of personal space, so...while she makes sure that she feels comfortable, she is much less concerned about the comfort of anyone else in the bed. 

This morning when she woke up, she didn't want to get out of bed right away (she never does). She wanted to stay and snuggle and to "keep scratching your beautiful pyjamas to make them even more beautiful!"

My pyjamas are velour (I think), so they feel very soft and velvety—fun to stroke. 

"Do you want to know a secret?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes!" Phoebe said in a hushed whisper. 

So I told her that these pyjamas were the ones I was wearing when my water broke before I left for the hospital to have her!

"Oh, yeah!" she said, with recognition in her voice. "I thought they looked familiar!"

They probably do look familiar because I have worn them several times since that fateful night my water broke. But she said it as if she recognized these pyjamas from her grand arrival in the world. 

Alas, I had to change before going to the hospital because when my waters broke they did so with gusto—not like springing a leak, more like a rushing torrent—and I was completely soaked. But that doesn't even matter because by the time Phoebe first saw me I was rocking a hospital gown, anyway. 

Miriam is 16!

Even though we spent most of Miriam's birthday being...busy...in general, and even though we knew we wouldn't be celebrating her with cake until Sunday, she still had presents to open on Saturday. Whereas Alexander had eight presents to open on his birthday, Miriam only had four, thus disproving the rapidly generating myth that children receive the number of presents equal to their age. They don't. It's random.

Miss Independent

First, here's a good shot of Phoebe in her 18 month Grogu pants, which she really wanted to wear today, but which I convinced her to change out of because it was quite chilly and, well, we're kind of refusing to turn on our heater at least until October November...out of principle. 

It's not like our house is freezing (it's not even freezing outside). It's simply not shorts-and-bare-feet temperature. So she agreed to put on socks and full-length pants.

This post isn't about cake

 

Miriam's cake isn't finished yet. There's a load of laundry sitting on the couch. And my mummy bandages are in the dryer. 

We're doing review for our primary program again tomorrow and Alexander is letting me borrow his "spooky vibes" kit that he got for his birthday a few years ago when he was bemoaning the fact that our house was low on "spooky vibes." It's a stuffed pumpkin that has a number of spooky things inside that I thought we could pull out and that would tell us how we'd sing one of our songs. 

He couldn't find all the spooky things that go in the pumpkin (we're missing the cat—the big kids often hide it because when Phoebe finds it she likes to squeeze it and it has a little voice box inside that starts yowling...so...I don't know where it is and whoever hid it last can't seem to remember where it is) but he found a good number of things.

We have Frankenstein's Monster, which I thought the kids could sing in low monster-y voices for, with their arms out zombie-style. We have a witch, which I thought I could get our rhythm sticks out for and we can cast spells or stir cauldrons (tin cans) or something. And there's a mummy...so I pulled out Rachel's halloween costume from 2014...which I have kept in case my kids ever wanted to, you know, repeat a costume (that has yet to happen except for babies who have no say). They've been sitting in a box for over a decade so they were a little musty, so into the wash they went.

While listening to the spin of the washer spin and crackle of garbanzo beans (Andrew is soaking garbanzo beans to make Miriam's birthday dinner—she wants falafel and hummus), I assembled Miriam's cake and I thought about stuff. 

Having time to think about stuff is important. 

Baptism Announcement, Service Activity, Birthdays, Lost Teeth...and more!

I just pulled Miriam's cake out of the oven. 

We did a horrendous singing to welcome her birthday this morning, but we'll sing to her properly over cake and candles tomorrow. 

We left for Athens early this morning so we could paint CASA's (Court Appointed Special Advocates) porch and shutters, clear their gutters, trim their bushes, and so forth. I'm the service chair for our graduate student organization, but honestly Bekah did most of the planning. Her sister is on the board at CASA and when she heard we were looking for volunteer opportunities she quickly came up with a list. It worked out very well. 

We had 22 people sign up and 19 people attend. We had doughnuts and chicken-biscuit

So we spent the morning cleaning and painting. Zoë was working the crowd, getting to know everybody. She lost a tooth and told everyone it was Miriam's birthday. There were congratulations and birthday wishes all around. It was a big day!

Then we went stopped by the botanical gardens to take some pictures of Alexander so I could make his baptism announcement...which I finished just a few minutes before pulling the cake out of the oven. 

He has paint on his arms and holes in his shoes and could hardly stay still for a picture, but I think that speaks volumes about his heart and direction. He's dirty from service and his soles have been worn out in following a good course.

At least, that's what I'll tell myself. 

New clothes and passports and lizards and things

My sister Josie sent a Grogu-themed sweatsuit for Phoebe. She was overjoyed when we finally opened the package and wanted to try it on right away. I asked Phoebe to strike a pose for Auntie Josie and this is what she did:

Rick Steves' Romania...or Steve Ricks?

Bram Stoker's Dracula is our current read-aloud, so our attention is shifting away from the Great Depression (which has been our focus for the last little while) towards...wherever it is we're heading in our social studies...studies. Alexander was having some trouble picturing the castle as described, so I thought we should take a little visit to Romania (something Bram Stoker never did). 

I called on the knowledge of Rick Steves, a travel writer/guru my Auntie Colleen recommended to me years and years ago. She raved about his guides to Europe. And I have to admit that they are, in fact, good. One year when I visited her she gave me an older copy of one of his guide to Europe after she got a revised edition for herself. He's very knowledgable.

And he now has a YouTube series as well!

Swimming and Organ Awards

Saturday, as mentioned earlier (I think), was a busy day, but the kids have come off conquerers!

Here's Benjamin with his ribbons from his swim meet:

Both his relay teams won first place (he swam a 50m leg of breaststroke in the medley relay and a 50m leg of freestyle in the freestyle relay, as one does). He got second place in the 200m IM (individual medly—so 50m each of butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle). He got third in 100m backstroke, and fourth in 50m freestyle. So not a bad day for him!

Halloween Twister

We pulled out our "spooky spin" game a while ago but didn't get around to playing until FHE yesterday. We played a little bit before FHE, then stopped playing to have a lesson on prayer (which Alexander had prepared), and then we played a bit more before getting ready for bed. 

A busy week

Zoë had her first day of gymnastics this week. She was worried she was a little too old for starting, but I told her that I was her same age when I started gymnastics and that helped her feel a little bit better. She had a blast!

In which Phoebe protests child labour

Rachel shared with us that she'll be starting a second job, helping a professor with some research. She shared this news separately with Andrew and me in text messages....or something. I can't actually find her original message about it so maybe she told me in person. Whatever the case, Andrew brought it up one evening while we were gathered for scriptures and prayer.

"Rachel got a second job," he said.

"Doing research with Dr. A?" I asked. 

"Doing research with Dr. A," he confirmed.

Miriam, who has only ever worked for tuition reduction at her teacher's music studio, asked, "Does she get paid for this job?"

"That's how jobs work..." I chuckled.

Phoebe, who had been lying with her head on my lap, half asleep, suddenly jerked up quite alert and said, "Hey! Why don't I get paid for my jobs?"

We...don't give our kids allowance. I know a lot of people feel allowance teaches kids responsibility and how to manage money and so forth. But, honestly, not once have I ever been paid for doing the dishes or cleaning the toilets or folding the laundry (at home). I just have to do those things...because that's part of being alive. So I don't pay my toddler allowance for putting away the clean dishes because...that's just part of being alive. 

Anyway, learning that people get paid to do jobs has awakened Phoebe to, like, child labour rights...or something.

This morning she came into our room and woke me up to inform me that she did a very good job staying dry and staying in her bed all night long (she's been waking up to fuss and "forcing" Andrew to sit up with her while she goes back to sleep the past few nights). And she did do a good job with both those things. 

Then when Andrew asked her to unload the dishwasher, she turned on the KPop Demon Hunters soundtrack and got right to work.

I made some remark about how nice that was—to just have her pitch in and do her work without crying and carrying on. Very mature. Very responsible. Very cool. 

"I think," she said. "That since I'm doing such a big-girl job at the dishes and staying in my own bed that I can stay up a little later."

"What?" I asked. 

"I want to stay up later because I'm not crying about doing the dishes."

"You're trying to negotiate a later bedtime?" 

"The big kids do it."

Fortunately, Phoebe doesn't understand time, can't read clocks yet, has no idea what her bedtime is, and often goes to bed later than we intended to put her to bed, anyway. As long as it's dark out, she thinks she's staying up late (lucky for us, we live in a place where daylight doesn't vary too much).

Alexander is 8!

Someone was giving away an expired gingerbread house on the Buy Nothing Group and because it had some autumnal vibes, I figured it would be a great way to ring in this season of gratitude. So for FHE on Monday—Canadian Thanksgiving—we put it together (and worked on some leaves to add to our thankful tree). We were very lucky that the kit came with seven distinct pieces to decorate (two roof tiles, four walls, and a chimney). That meant everyone got something to decorate! The instructions also suggested decorating the pieces flat and then putting them together, which for some reason I have never thought of doing...but it did make the whole project much less crowded.

Here's everyone working on their pieces...

Benjamin did a side wall and worked very meticulously on his vines and things:

On Campus with Phoebe

Miriam drove to campus on Monday. 

She is a very different driver than Rachel in ways that I didn't expect. For example, when we'd get stuck behind a slow vehicle, Rachel would often be content to be stuck behind the slow vehicle. It was a relief, really, because then no one behind her could really be mad at her for going slow because they could see as plain as day that she was, for example, stuck behind a big truck. 

Miriam is like, "Gross. Why is this car going so slow? Should I go around them? I can totally go around them..."

Andrew was coaching her the whole way, of course, because if I had been coaching her I would not have been encouraging her to pass anyone unless things were perfectly clear. 

That's...why Andrew is coaching her, probably. 

Anyway, Phoebe was super excited to get to spend the day on campus. She loves getting to see "Campus Puppy." On this particular day there was a girl out front taking her graduation pictures. 

"Ooooh! That girl is graduating!" Phoebe sang out. "Isn't that great of her?!"

Then she saw "Campus Puppy" and squealed, "Oooh! Campus Puppy is graduating, toooooo!"

Banned Book Fest

I spent the day on campus for the Banned Book Fest. I've "tabled" at this event three times now, and I think this was my best year yet. 

The first year I was super pregnant and it was super hot outside and the tables were all in the sun. The second year it rained so they moved the tables inside. Both years I more or less ran the table by myself (the first year Dr. Panaou was with me for part of the time and the second year...I think it was just me). I couldn't make it last year. But this year I did!

And the weather was beautiful and I sent out a message to our graduate student organization asking for volunteers to help "table" so I had wonderful company (Aila, Morgan, Lu, and Jie). 

Phoebe kind of listens...and Zoë gets some teeth pulled

Yesterday Zoë got four teeth pulled (more of that below with—fair warning—perhaps some icky pictures). I spent a quiet evening at home with Zoë, Alexander, and Phoebe, while Andrew took Miriam and Benjamin to an extra youth activity (our ward tends to be...understaffed and under-enthusiastic while this other ward in our building is...less that way...and we appreciate them inviting our handful of youth to join in fun activities with their dozens of youth). 

When they came home, we were all upstairs in my bedroom for some reason. 

I think, actually, that I had been trying to read an article. Phoebe was playing with the marble run. And Alexander and Zoë had been playing outside with a friend (walking kick the can, since Zoë wasn't really supposed to be running around) but they came inside because it was dark and...time for bed. 

So we all ended up being in my bedroom when Daddy and the other kids came home, so then they all came home and we had scriptures and prayer sprawled out all over the bedroom.

Phoebe was having trouble transitioning away from the marble run. 

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

"Phoebe, time to stop." 

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

"Phoebe—for real. You've got to stop playing for a minute."

Phoebe's first sleepover

Phoebe has been begging to have a sleepover at Grandpa's house for literal ages...probably about half of her life, if we're honest. She's been fully begging for at least a year (as documented here), but has been longing to join in on sleepovers for even longer than that. 

But she's been working hard on a few essential sleepover skills, like (1) staying in her bed at night rather than getting up in the middle of the night to do weird stuff or cry for hours at a time for no reason, and (b) staying dry. 

We're still a little iffy on the first item listed, but she's been so great with staying dry! 

She hasn't even worn the Chummie to bed in a month (I've never seen a child more happy to yeet a piece of technology than Phoebe was when we said goodbye to Mr. Chummie) and has been doing so well. 

So last Saturday when Grandpa and Darla came to the Front Porch Recital, we made a plan to have a sleepover this weekend. 

"We can have a sleepover whenever she's ready," Grandpa said. 

"Oh, she's been packed for weeks now," I said.

Phoebe literally helped me put the Chummie into its box and said, "Well, I'm going to go pack for my sleepover!" and started lugging a heavy backpack around the house just in case it ever happened to be time for a sleepover.

She was overjoyed when she learned it was really going to happen. On Thursday morning when she came into bed with me for "70 minutes of snuggling plus 100 more snuggles," she explained to me all about how today was Dad's long day to be on campus and then she would have one more sleep and then it would be time to sleep over at Grandpa and Darla's (and she hoped I wouldn't be lonely without her).

She was thrilled to pack up in Grandpa's car when he picked the kids up. And she just...had a blast. She loved the independence.

Here she is racing down the driveway with Zoë and Alexander:

I can't believe it's not butter!

When we first began the conference tradition of a vegetable tray (back in our Durham days), it felt like a real splurge. But the kids loved it and begged for a vegetable tray every conference after.

And how do you say no to children begging for vegetables?

Our conference spread has...expanded over the years. Charcuterie boards came into vogue and we jumped on the band wagon and now the kids expect one of those every year—meat and cheese and crackers. You can see this year's charcuterie (courtesy of Benjamin) behind this beautiful bowl of hummus (courtesy of Andrew):

Creepiest house on the block

One of the saddest things about The House That Burned Down is that...it was Bertram's house...and Bertram was missing from our lives.

The first few years it was "Fil(thy) the Clown."

When he fell apart, he was replaced with "Bertram the Plague Doctor" and we would go for a walk to see him every night so he could lunge at us and deliver his scary little speech. He was delightfully spooky.

(Who came up with these names? We did. And the entire neighbourhood adopted them.)

Phoebe called him "Berf-pump" because she couldn't say "Bertram." 

She can say Bertram now, and she remembers that he should be there. The House That Burned Down always put a lot of effort into making their house look spooky for Halloween, but this year...Bertram wasn't around. 

Until suddenly...he was...in all his smouldering glory:

Stories about Phoebe

Monday's reading lesson was a disaster, which is fine. "We" are three. Disasters are to be expected. 

Every word was "the"; it didn't matter what the word looked like...Phoebe decided it was probably "the" and then would get upset when I would make her sound the actual sounds out. 

I was plenty frustrated as well. 

But Tuesday's reading lesson was a breeze. 

One of the words we've been focusing on the last couple of days is "duck."

That is such a tricky word for Phoebe. She's been working hard on her fronting habits and can successfully say "duck" now, but when she has to say it so many times (three times in one story!) it starts to be a bit much for her. Throughout the course of sounding out, reading, and responding to questions, I heard duck, guck, gut, and dut ("dut" being her default pronunciation). 

Knowing when to use the front of her tongue instead of the back of her tongue simply isn't quite intuitive for her yet, but she's getting the feel of things and corrects herself when she says dut...gut...guck...duck. 

Cat is another tricky word, although we've been working on that word for so long that she's pretty good at throwing out "cat" the first time. It used to always be "tat." Sometimes it comes out "tac."

She's working on it.

Lost and Found

Phoebe's favourite toy du jour is Pink Baby. She's notoriously terrible at naming things (my apologies in advance to her future children). And she also tends to lose track of things and every time is a tragedy. 

She knew she had Pink Baby in the kitchen. I had turned on some dance music in the kitchen while I was doing the dishes and she was dancing with Pink Baby. 

But then a neighbour knocked on the door and wanted to play. Phoebe asked for help determining which shoe belonged on which foot and hinted that she wanted to take Pink Baby outside.

I can be...a little strict...about inside and outside toys. And library books. And other things that I'm going to be asked the whereabouts of later. 

Like Phoebe, I struggle to keep track of things. So library books stay in the music room—period. (Well, picturebooks never leave the music room. But novels and things...I will sometimes let kids read those elsewhere...if they check with me and I watch them put the book back in the book bin when they're finished reading for the day). 

Inside toys stay inside.
Outside toys stay outside.
Duplos stay in the bedroom upstairs.
LEGO stays in the LEGO room. 

And so on.