Birthday Balloons I (finally)

I'm so behind in so many things.

I was so proud of the fact that we managed to write birthday balloon messages for everyone in our family before Rachel went out to Utah. Last year we didn't write birthday balloons until August! But at least I posted about them immediately after. It's been weeks since we finished writing our birthday balloons for the first half of our birthdays and they've just been curling on the wall.

Phoebe asked if I wouldn't mind taking them down so we could start "fresh" on her birthday. I guess she didn't want stale birthday decorations. 

So I took them down. Finally.

We meant to take a picture of Zoë, Benjamin, me, and Rachel in front of the tree with our birthday balloons. But we forgot to, so I don't have one. 

Here's what people said though:

Zoë! I'm so excited that you are 10! You are such a charming young woman! I'm so proud of how helpful and thoughtful and funny you're becoming! Keep being awesome this year! Love, Dad

Zeal
Optimistic
Ebullient (archaic term)

Watching you grow over this past year has been [groovy?] I love you so much! —Ben

Zoë! How are you already in the double digits? you've grown so much, it's crazy. It has been a joy to watch you grow more passionate about music, especially organ. You are so good at cleaning, and are very quick-witted and funny. I love you so much!!! Love, Miriam

(It should be noted that this was written before they started sharing a room; opinions on cleanliness have changed since then)

Organ harvest

The keys on our organ are brittle. You can see from this picture—with its jaw pried wide open—that it has a few missing...teeth: 

Saying goodbye to Auntie K

At the risk of getting political...or sharing, like, my immediate lived experience and point of view on a personal mommy blog with low readership...

My sister's visit did have to end at some point...apparently...and it did on Saturday evening.

Research across the aisle indicated that while my sister had ample free time while she was between positions, she did have to return home in time to honour the contracted "start date" of her new position. 

Miraculously, Phoebe agreed to sit on Auntie K's lap for a picture prior to going to bed. Sources say this sudden display of affection could have been bought with the gift of a Bluey blanket. There is photographic evidence of the alleged gift, and our gift unit is still investigating this exchange to determine whether or not it violates our household emoluments clause.

I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?

The news is always bad, but the last few days have felt overwhelming.

• A gunman (claimed by Hamas) killed 6 at a bus stop in Jerusalem.
• Netanyahu pledged retaliation against Gaza for this because...whatever else has happened in Gaza should not be considered retaliatory enough as it is?? Or because Gaza isn't suppose to retaliate?? Or some other reasoning I don't understand... I mean, they also killed the shooter, so...I dunno.
• Also Israel bombed a residential area in Doha, targeting—and killing—5 Hamas leaders, and 1 security guard (so, like, wasn't that retaliation?...I guess I don't understand the word very well).
• Russia continues to bomb Ukraine, the bullies.
• Russia also has sent drones into Polish airspace, setting a large portion of Europe on edge. 
• NEPAL, friends. What? They overthrew their government, burnt down their parliament building. Props—you do you, boo. But then they also, like, burned the ex-first lady alive and did a bunch of super violent stuff? Less cool—exceedingly uncool.
• There was a school shooting in Colorado. Nice. Neat. Great. Seems we can't get enough of those. Hope and prayers. Pop some popcorn. 

Little and Big Kids

A picture of Miriam lives on our fridge. She's four years old, pigtails flying, bandaid on one knee, pink helmet on head, lugging her bike behind her. In this picture she is the most darling four-year-old in the whole entire world. 

*****

Today Phoebe was wearing the same helmet (which is now 12 years old...which is old for a helmet), which she calls her unicorn helmet because back in 2014 I used the helmet to create a unicorn costume for our neighbourhood 4th of July parade, which I honestly did not realize would be 100% patriotically themed. 

Long Hunter State Park

During quiet time/nap time one afternoon, Auntie K took us to Long Hunter State Park so we could do the Storybook Trail. We got off to a bit of a rocky start because we made it to the visitor's center just as it closed for lunch—and they were very serious about closing for their lunch break. We could see them all in there...and they could see us...but there was no way they were going to ask us if we needed help with anything. 

The bathrooms were locked from the outside, only accessible through the main entrance (which was locked). We had a map, but weren't quite sure what we were looking for because the Storybook Trail wasn't on the map. 

So we had our lunch and waited for the doors to open. 

An Amazon delivery person came by with some packages and they opened the door for them and while the door was open I passive-aggressively made a remark about how I couldn't wait for the next five minutes to be up so that we could finally take our toddler to the bathroom...

And the lady working inside must have heard me because after the five minutes were up and she finally unlocked the door for us, I took Phoebe to the bathroom and the lady made a point of finding Kelli to tell her that the bathroom doors were open, should we have needed to go. 

They weren't. 

But that's okay. We went potty and figured out where to go (kind of). When we got to the right parking lot we just had to find the "hidden" trailhead for the Storybook Trail. It, again, wasn't on any of the park maps. But we were pretty intimidated by the bulletin board, so perhaps we didn't look closely enough...

Motherscholaring

The kids and I all have come down with a cold. 

Luckily, that's all it seems to be...because the past few times we've been sick have been...mighty uncomfortable. This really seems mostly to just be the sniffles.

Still, I had to film a ten minute presentation this evening...on motherscholars...and was sniffling all the way through it (poor everybody who has to listen to my *sniff* presentation *sniff*). 

No sooner had I finished filming...at midnight...when Phoebe ran into the hallway crying, her Chummie alarm blaring. She really doesn't like that thing, which is good because when it goes off she typically wakes up pretty fast (she's only slept through it a couple of times), which means she typically stops peeing to...run into the hallway screaming for help. 

And...I couldn't think of anything more motherscholarly than filming a presentation while sick (probably from kids with no boundaries either sneezing in my face or stealing a drink from my water bottle) at midnight (because that's a good quiet time for that activity in this house) and very nearly having it interrupted by a child needing help going potty.

*****

Side story: last night she was having a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep (because of the sniffles, probably). She woke up around midnight and I helped her go potty and get back to bed. And after she had been in bed for a while, her Chummie went off. 

"Shhhh, shhhh, Chummie-buddy!" she said soothingly, groggily patting her Chummie. "I'm just sweaty. I'm not peeing. You can be quiet!"

Had she been asleep when it went off, she would have been in the hallways screaming in a flash, but since she was only in the act of falling asleep...she tried to soothe it into silence. 

It didn't work.

Instead we got up and changed into some cooler pyjamas.

At Rosie's House

One of the best parts about Rosie's house (according to the little kids, at least) is that it is brand new, so brand new that the rest of the neighbourhood is still being put up right in Rosie's backyard!

Why nobody lives here?

Miriam found Cannonsburgh Village while she was researching things to do around Murfreesboro. It has historical buildings that have been moved to the site or replicas of historical buildings (often made of reclaimed materials so they look as if they're from the time period). 

Here are the kids working on some of the "backpack program" materials...

Ruby Falls with Auntie K

Zoë writes: 

My favourite part of Ruby Falls was finally getting to the falls. The falls were beautiful, even more so because of the lights and music put on.

Beautiful Butterflies at Cannonsburgh Village

This morning we took the kids to Cannonsburgh Village, a little tour through history constructed to celebrate the 200th Independence Day back in 1976. It was a pretty neat place to visit, I think! They had all sorts of buildings—a telephone operator's house, a school, a chapel, a blacksmith shop, a mill, and more. They had live chickens. They had checkerboards. They had about a million organs (just about every building had an organ in it, I think). 

For right now, I thought I'd share pictures of the kids by this butterfly wing backdrop:

 

Zoë holding Oaklyn

To Tennessee with Auntie K: In which we explore many playgrounds

While Auntie K is here she wants to take each of the kids on an individual outing. She tried to give Rachel the gift of a mani-pedi when she was out here last time, but Rachel flat-out refused to entertain the thought of allowing a complete stranger to touch her feet. Miriam similarly declined the invitation this trip. But Zoë...is a horse of a different colour. She was quite excited at the prospect of having her nails done. She loved sitting in the massage chairs and being pampered—they even gave her an ice cream cone! 

She came home with lovely sparkly green nails...and a new outfit as well! Auntie K took her on a little shopping spree (and she had the time of her life). They also saw a cute little ghost dress while they were out and picked it up for Phoebe (who won't be going on an individual outing because she's...fussy...but who is very much picking up on the Halloween spirit (something Auntie K also appreciates)). 

Here are those three girls in their new outfits on Sunday (Auntie K found a dress for herself as well):

Pool day

This morning we did some school work while Auntie K went grocery shopping for herself. She has celiac disease and...so we let her be in charge of what she eats. She made shepherd's pie for dinner this evening (for all of us), for example (and it was delicious). 

After lunch we headed to the pool. It's a bit cooler than we're used to, but as the afternoon warmed up it felt better and better. We had a lot of fun playing catch and "piggy in the middle," which my kids all call "monkey in the middle," despite my best efforts to make them adopt my way of speaking. There are many names for the game. 

Here we are the first few minutes at the pool, getting used to the water:

Busy evenings, matching dresses, and a sister visit!

I wrote a draft last week about a particularly busy Tuesday, when Andrew had to be on campus so I had to do all the driving children hither and thither by myself. And it was chaotic. Today was no better. 

It's a Thursday and Andrew had his first day of teaching today—how rich for him! I've already started working on my third week of content. 

My sister Kelline flew in for a visit as well and, as luck would have it, her flight landed at 6:50 and Andrew's class let out at 7:00! Campus is only a few minutes from the airport, so he went to pick her up after he go out of class (she offered to ride MARTA out to us, but...it was just as easy to pick her up). 

Benjamin had swim practice at 6:00, so we quickly ate dinner and then everyone hopped in the car to take Benjamin to the Y. And then we drove to the library to pick up a hold for Miriam. Then we drove to the park to drop off the glass recycling we amassed over the summer and I had promised the little kids they could play at the playground for a little while, but...the parking lot by the glass recycling was all full because of baseball practice, so we had to go park in the next lot—by the outdoor hockey arena (iceless)—and then walk to the glass recycling.

We were laughing because the baseball parking lot was completely full—people were parked on the grass and just...all over the place—yet the hockey parking lot was nearly empty and it's honestly just as close of a walk from the hockey lot to the baseball fields as it is from the baseball lot. 

Parking lot -- baseball fields -- parking lot -- hockey arena.

It was not the same distance for us to carry our glass to the recycling receptacle, however. We had to carry our glass through the parking lot, the baseball fields, and another parking lot to get there. But that's okay. 

Alexander, Zoë, and I each took a box (I took two, actually). Miriam carried a big plate of glass from our fridge (from a shelf that mysteriously broke...no one knows how) and helped steer Phoebe in the right direction. The kids had fun throwing the jars into the bin. 

And by that time, unfortunately, it was about time to turn around and pick Benjamin up. Phoebe had so been looking forward to playing at the park, however, so (after clearing it with Miriam) I gave the kids a couple of options. They could either all pile in the van and we could pick up Benjamin together, or I could go pick up Benjamin alone and leave them at the park to play (under Miriam's supervision). 

Surprise, surprise—they chose to stay at the park. Miriam took a few pictures for me while they were playing (because we unearthed the 4T panda dress that matches whatever size Zoë's in now...that Zoë and Miriam used to wear simultaneously, though I can't find a picture of that right now):

Zoë and Phoebe, August 2025

Phoebe this morning

Phoebe woke up dry. 

"Are you ready for me to unplug your chummie?" I asked.

She put her hands over her ears. "Yes!"

I unplugged the chummie (which causes a couple loud beeps, which she doesn't like). Alexander turned on the bedroom light when he walked into the bedroom at that exact moment.

"Wow!" Phoebe exclaimed. "That turned on my light!!"

"That...is incredible!" I said. 

"Yeah, it is!"

Phoebe and I giggled about how funny it was that her chummie beeping turned on the light. 

"Actually, I turned on the light," Alexander explained. 

"That makes more sense!" Phoebe giggled. Then she immediately started singing, "Baby shark! Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo! Baby shark..."

Sometimes she is the happiest, go-luckiest kid who just...wakes up in these fabulous moods. Not every day, but...just sometimes.

A potty training breakthrough?

After several good nights in a row, we have had several...not...good...nights...in a row. 

Quick tangent! 

When I was in high school I was (tangentially; I was an "extra" and didn't really have a part) in a musical production of The Mystery of Edwin Drood and in that play Princess Puffer has a line where she breaks the fourth wall to interact with the audience and she picks someone to point flirtatiously at and says, "Fancy seeing you here two nights in a row!"

But the girl who was playing the part was affecting a strong kind of...cockney...accent and so to my ears it sounded something more like, "Fancy seeing you here tonight, Sinnarow!"

And it took me years to untangle that line. I was always like, "Who is Sinnarow?!"

So, anyway, we've had a few bad potty nights, Sinnarow, and I've been losing hope. 

But, I just finished my run and took a shower (yes, I ran at midnight because I forgot to do it earlier and then I had to shower and then...)

Quick tangent!

New internet!

Our internet went down last night, sometime around dinner time. 

I had seen a technician out at the box earlier, but I can't remember when. Did I see him out the window from my chair while I was reading? Did I see him outside when I called the kids in for dinner? Or when we were driving off to swim practice and church activities?

Whatever the case, the internet went down sometime while we weren't quite paying attention (because we were having dinner). 

When Andrew noticed he made an appointment for today—sometime between noon and 4:00—and we did our best to go on with our lives, a very difficult thing when so much of our lives is online—our work, our school, and our family, honestly.

I took the kids to the church this morning. Miriam practiced the organ. The kids did their science lessons (online) and their math lessons (online) and played dodge ball and practiced on the real pianos (what a treat). And then we came home and waited for the technician. 

By 2:00 I was starting to worry. I knew they said they'd come between noon and 4:00, but I had class at 4:00...online...so I needed the internet to be back on by then. So I reached out to some neighbours and found someone home and willing to let me hop on their internet. 

But then at 2:15 the technician showed up! And we were back online by 3:30. 

We have some new neighbours moving in up the street—into Miss Anne's house—and they were getting outfitted with a new internet connection and somehow whoever was doing that cut the cable to our house...which was kind of obnoxious. 

The good news was that we didn't have to pay to have them come out because clearly this wasn't our fault...and they were astounded that our equipment was so old (we had it installed in 2019) so they updated our modem and wall box and things so it would be compatible with their new system. So, I guess that was nice. 

I was mostly relieved to be up and running in time for class!

Signs of autumn

More so than the drop in temperature, it's the bugs that tell us it's fall. 

Cicadas scream their last screams and fall from the trees to twitch on the ground in theatrical death throes before being overtaken by ants.

Joros string sticky tightropes in the trees, catching everything in sight, and growing rounder and rounder by the day. 

And then there's the oak worms. They're everywhere, black bodies writhing on the pavement, often squished by car tires and people's shoes, leaving yellow goo behind.

Phoebe collected an entire handful of them the other day (not wearing the outfit below—this picture was taken in the morning after when the kids remembered they'd meant to let them go again):

Grandpa Frank's funeral

Here we are after dinner with our Lindor truffles, to celebrate (with) Grandpa Frank, who loved Lindt chocolates:

Uncle Matt said that the last time he took Grandpa Frank shopping, Lindt chocolates were high on his list of necessities, so his kids decided they should have a bowl of Lindt chocolates for the funeral attendees to enjoy. We didn't get to go to the funeral, but we did get to watch online...and Andrew picked up some chocolates while he was out grocery shopping.

Still thinking about Halloween

Just so you're all aware, Phoebe sat by Daddy for dinner, but she's going to sit by me on Halloween. And she's going to say all the prayers on Halloween, too—so nobody else even think about it. 

We have to read The Ghosts Went Floating every day. 

And we have to think about how to be spookier and spookier. 

And we're going to get so much candy and have so much fun. 

Phoebe could talk about Halloween until the cows come home (and we don't have any cows, if that gives you an idea of how long we'd be waiting for that to happen). 

Anyway, we went on a walk today and Miriam was talking about what she might want to be for Halloween. She found some costume ideas from the 1920s that she thought was charming. But she also picked up a trench coat a the trading tables event our stake hosted a few weeks ago. 

"What do you think, Phoebe—should I be a butterfly or a detective?"

"A butterfly!" Phoebe answered quickly. 

Drain Monsters

It's a little early for Halloween books, I think...although we're already thinking hard about Halloween costumes over here, so perhaps not. Either way Phoebe grabbed a Halloween book off the shelf at the library the other day so...it's in our rotation. I think there's a Christmas book in there, too. 

She has no respect for seasons. 

Every time we go to the pool she says something about how she's "so glad it's May." It's not May (it's August), but she spent about October through April begging to go to the pool and we kept telling her that we could go "in May." So now every day that we go to the pool...is May. 

Which is different from "may can," which is her super polite way of saying "can I?" because one day at dinner I was making her correct all her "tan I have..." with "can I have" and then made a joke about how we'd finally get her to say "can" and then we'd have to break it to her that she should be saying may. 

She heard that and has started saying "may can I have..."

Anyway, to sum up, Phoebe has no respect for seasons, thinks "pool season" is synonymous with "May," and...she's terrified of drains.

This might be Rachel's fault. 

Almost out of braces

Unlike Miriam, who still has another year or so to go in braces (and Zoë, who isn't in braces yet but will be as soon as she gets a few more adult head in her teeth because she has an impressive cross bite), I am almost out of braces.

My top teeth are technically finished...apparently...though I'm still wearing my old tray as a retainer of sorts. My bottom teeth still have a few months to go. I have one tooth that is particularly stubborn so I had to get some imaging redone today to get a new set of trays that will get that tooth on track. 

There's this one dental assistant that always (always) struggles to understand that I (still) can't put my teeth together...which is one of the big reasons I got braces in the first place. "They" say things like biting and chewing are important. 

Anyway, although even I (an untrained eye, if you will) can see huge improvements in my bite...this dental assistant is forever upset that...I can't put my teeth together. 

There's a meme right now that uses a song by a guy that turns "terrible tinder conversations into songs" and I thought my conversation today would go so well with the "I have one daughter" song. I'm not super "into" making video memes, so you'll just have to imagine my text over the original (like this or this or this; there are so many examples). 

Original Meme	My conversation
You have any kids?	Can you bite down for me?
Yes, I have one daughter, how about you?	Yes, but I can't close my teeth because I have an open bite. That's why I'm in braces.
How many baby daddies do you have if you don't mind me asking?	Okay, your teeth aren't touching. I just need you to bite down now.
Ellipsis	Ellipsis.
I have one daughter.	I have an open bite.
I understand and is she by the same father?	I understand but for imaging I need you to bite with your teeth together.
I have one daughter.	I have an open bite.
I understand and is she by the same father?	I understand but for imaging I need you to bite with your teeth together.
I don't understand.	I don't understand.

Anyway, she eventually agreed to take the picture without my teeth closing...on account of...I can't.

Reading lessons and other things

Working so much on pronunciation with Phoebe has naturally led to phonics, so we've cracked open Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons again. So far we've done about 10 lessons and then started back at square one. And then we went through about 20 lessons and then started over again at lesson 10. And now we're just past lesson 20 for the second time, and it was perfect timing because the letter we added today was c and what sound does c make? 

/k/...which Phoebe just figured out how to produce! 

The poor thing was struggling so hard with the word "cat" today (she keeps saying "tac" instead). Typically she has substituted /t/ for /k/ so "cat" would be "tat." I suppose "tac" is a step in the right direction. We worked for a while on saying /k/ first and /t/ second, but it was a real challenge for her. 

At first she wasn't a huge fan of reading lessons but now she often asks me for lessons (even over the weekend when we don't "have to" do schoolwork). 

The other day she decided to pull out her reading lesson book so she could give one of her baby dolls (one of my baby dolls) a reading lesson. Here they are skipping way far ahead:

Chummie

Many of my children have been quite easy to potty train. For example, when I potty trained Alexander through the night, this is how it went:

"Buddy, we're going to put you to bed in your underwear today. No more diapers, okay?"

"Okay."

And...uhhhh...that was...that. Super easy. 

The kid never wet the bed.

Some of my kids have been a bit more of a challenge. For example, Benjamin. We eventually bought a "chummie," taking the advice of my good friend Bridget. Unfortunately for Benjamin it took ages to train him through the night (and the day), even with the chummie and every other trick in the book.

The chummie has sat in a box, waiting to see if it might be useful again, for several years now.

Because the good news is that most kids reach most milestones...eventually. And even though potty training Benjamin was a monumental task...it happened.

So, yes. Rachel and Miriam were easy. Benjamin was a challenge. Zoë and Alexander were easy. And Phoebe...has been a challenge. 

She took to daytime potty training so nicely that I thought for sure she'd be a breeze overnight. 

I was wrong. We have been working on overnight training for nearly two years. Casually—I mean, we wanted to let her be "ready" for it, but most of my kids (see list above) were potty trained over night before, by or around age 2. 

Phoebe is rapidly approaching 4. 

And I've been changing diapers for 18 years...I'm over it. So ready or not...it needs to happen at this point.

SPCH THRPY: Bat, Back, and Spot

Phoebe doesn't love "blends," so in addition to helping her figure out how to say /k/ we've also begun working on things like /sp/ and /sl/ and /st/ and things like that. I mean, there are several things she can't say properly (although properly is something she can say properly and she will tell you, "I tan't say dat properly), but those are the things we're targeting for now. 

She loves puppies, so I've been using Dick and Jane books to give us plenty of opportunity to say the word "Spot," since that is the name of their puppy. 

When we started on this particular project (just recently—we added it because she figured out /k/), she would always say, "Sot" instead of "spot." So we practiced saying "pot" and then "s" and then sssssss...pot and then put everything together. 

"Sput," Phoebe said. 

And I thought, "You know what? That's great! She's got the /sp/ and we can work on adding the vowel later."

Voicemail

Going through old voicemails from Grandpa Frank made me wish (1) that I had answered my phone less often so that I could have more of these gems (because believe it or not I do answer my phone sometimes), and (2) that I was brave enough to leave messages as charming as Grandpa Frank's always are.

Mattress coils

When we exchanged Phoebe and Zoë's old bunk bed for Benjamin's new loft bed, we were left with a couple of old mattresses on our hands (because Benjamin's new bed frame is a full not a twin). They were rather inexpensive mattresses in the first place, so were never very comfortable, but various children have used them for...at least 13 years...so they'd...been through some...stuff. 

I won't list all the bodily fluids they encountered. And, I mean, we used mattress covers...but they got gross anyway. 

I don't really blame anyone for not wanting them. 

But—goodness sakes!—do you know how much it costs to dispose of a mattress?

Luckily, I know a guy!

Highercase and Lowercase

The other day Phoebe wanted to ask if she could play Minecraft. 

We use acronyms for everything in our house—to talk about what shows we want to watch (for example, DW means Doctor Who), to talk about our Favourite Part of the Day (FPOD), to announce that it's leftover night (YOYO—you're on your own). If something isn't an acronym, we make it an acronym just for fun. 

So in order to ask if she could play Minecraft, Phoebe put together the letters "MC" on the fridge and pulled Andrew over to ask if she could "play MC."

Love and bebove

Poor Phoebe does not get along well with the little neighbour girl her age, and by "not get along well" I mean that [Child] has simply had a vendetta against Phoebe since they were crawling. I honestly don't know why. Sometimes they'll play quite nicely together (especially if grown ups are mediating), but often they simply don't. 

Literally the first full sentence I heard [Child] speak was to Phoebe and it was, "You're not my best friend! Haha! You're not my best friend! Haha!"

Now that they're older, she's constantly spewing out things like: "If you don't ______ then you're not my friend," and "I don't like you," and "You can't play with me," and "No Phoebes allowed."

And I'm honestly not sure why she's like that because...her parents aren't like that (and don't like that behaviour). And, again, Phoebe has done nothing particular to warrant this treatment because this profound dislike has been going on since they were barely toddling around. But, nonetheless, that's where we're at. (I honestly would check in at her daycare to see whether she's being bullied there and is passing it along to Phoebe, but...that's just my gut.)

Today Phoebe was playing outside with her siblings and another neighbour, but when [Child] came outside to play, Phoebe came inside to play.

"Don't you want to play outside with the other kids?" I asked her.

"No, thanks," she said. "[Child] doesn't like me. I'd rather play inside where everybody loves me."

Obviously this is a problem that will eventually need to be solved somehow, because it isn't fair for Phoebe to have to hide away inside so that [Child] won't say mean things to her. But it's nice that home is where she feels safe. 

*****

On another note, we were playing Magnatiles together ("Mom, I love spending time with you!" she told me...probably to coax me into playing with her longer...and it worked) and I was reminded of another funny thing Phoebe says consistently: bebove. 

Bebove is the opposite of below or beneath. 

So if you were to swim down to the very bobbom of the pool, you would have a lot of water bebove you.

I think it's rather cute!

Here and there

Our homeschool "not-back-to-school" party drew a pretty small crowd this year, perhaps in part because of how "chilly" it's been. The little hint of autumn didn't stop us from enjoying the pool, however! It was good to see so many of our friends—and to get to meet a few new families. 

DOI

I submitted our "declaration of intent to homeschool" (DOI) the other day and was surprised—as I was filing it away—to realize there's a long list of DOIs in my DOI folder...

Strangely I seem to have moved from being a homeschooling newbie to being somewhat of a veteran homeschool educator. I'm not quite sure how that happened because I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing and am just figuring things out one day at a time.

But, I mean, I didn't hesitate or cry or get all queasy when I pushed the submit button (which was not the case in 2019) so I must be making progress (or at least gaining confidence) as a homeschool educator. 

And Rachel graduated and is starting college...so we didn't mess her plans up too badly.

I went from two homeschooled students in 2019 (Benjamin and Miriam) to four homeschooled students in 2020 (Rachel, Miriam, Benjamin, and Zoë). In 2023 we officially had five homeschooled students when Alexander joined everyone as a kindergarten student. Now we're back down to four students and that's the most I'll ever have at one time from here on out, which is probably plenty.

Technically Phoebe is doing pre-K stuff this year, but she's not "on the record" yet (and won't be until after Miriam graduates).

(Submitting an annual DOI is one of few requirements for homeschooling in Georgia, and it is necessary for certain things—like for a child to get a driver's license, and so forth.)

A few things Phoebe has said lately:

Phoebe: Do you remember how I broke Miriam's arm by this fence?

Me: Yes, but please explain. 
Phoebe: I rode into her with my tricycle and tripped her right over, remember?

Me: You did do that. 
Phoebe: That was miles and miles ago.

Me: It was...a long time ago...comparative to your age...yes.

Andrew: Alright, you guys are sleeping in your new room tonight!

Phoebe (shrieking): WITH ALL THESE WEAPONS?!

Andrew: Those aren't weapons. Those are...tools. And we'll move them out before we put you to bed.

Phoebe: *mutters to herself about how unconscionable it is to put a baby to bed in a room full of weapons*

(We've been calling our little pile of tools our "armory" ever since, but Andrew just put everything away in the ultimate armory—the garage).

Phoebe: I am so excited to go to the pool again for the party that I'm invited to this time.*

Me: Oh, so am I.

Phoebe: I will just throw my sinky toys in and they will sink to the bobbom of the pool and then I will swim to the bobbom and grab them up. But I won't throw them in the deep end because I can't touch the bobbom there. So I will throw them in the shallow end. But when I'm big enough to touch the bobbom of the deep end I will throw my sinky toys in the deep end and get them from the very bobbom. 

Me: That sounds like a good plan.

* We're having our "not-back-to-school" homeschool party tomorrow. It was supposed to be on Monday when the public school kids went back, but it was like 65°F and raining so we postponed. For the record, she's been trying to touch the bottom of the deep end for weeks now. I hate it when she tries because she's not great at getting up for air in the first place and ten feet is a long way to go for a little girl (twenty feet if you count coming back up again, which Alexander does). But, as she said, she's never made it down that far yet.

Phoebe: Aw, man! Why is this Benjamin's blanket and not mine?

Me: Because...that's his baby blanket. He got it when he was a baby.

Phoebe: But it has a monkey on it and I love it. Can I have it?

Me: No. It's Benjamin's.

Phoebe: But he's not a baby anymore. 

Me: It still belongs to him.

Phoebe: What if we ask him if I can have it? And if he says yes, then...good...and if he says no then...*sigh*...I will be okay.

Me: How about...it's Benjamin's?

Phoebe: FINE-uh.

The kids in Utah

At this time last week we were either all weeping as we drove home in the rain...or were off to Kroger to do a snack run for a long road trip. 

The older kids have now been gone for a week and their whirlwind trip to Utah is just about over. Tomorrow is their last full day there (except for Rachel, who will be there for longer). 

Miriam has been enjoying her time at the organ workshop. She had a private lesson with Joseph Peeples (a tabernacle organist), which I assume went well. My mom went with her to that (because Miriam is a minor she was required to have an adult present at her private lesson).

Forced Perspective Photo Shoot

Today on Facebook a memory from five years ago popped up, a memory that I apparently didn't ever get around to blogging about. It must have been near the beginning of the school year, still at the beginning of the pandemic, and we did a little photo shoot playing with forced perspective. 

Here's Zoë holding up Benjamin and Miriam:

If you give a parent a paintbrush...

They'll* run to the store to grab just the shade of grey you wanted. To be safe—they'll grab two cans! 

Nonrefundable, of course (because once you tint it, it's yours).

Then they'll* decide they need some white paint to redo the trim. They'll* quickly grab a can and then rush home. 

When they've finished painting the room grey, they'll** realize they have 1.25 cans leftover. That will start them*** thinking about what else they could possibly paint that same colour. 

But they** still have the trim to paint, so they'll** break out the white paint and get to work. 

When they're** finished painting, the parent* (who went to the store to get the paint but didn't help do any of the painting because they had to finish grading so they could submit grades by the deadline) will ask if the painting parent** can simply repaint the banister as well...since the paint is out. 

So they'll** paint the banister. And then they'll** rinse out their paintbrush.

Before and after

Benjamin's walls have successfully been transformed from a light grey and what-were-you-thinking purple... 

Room swapping

This morning Phoebe climbed into bed to snuggle. 

"Mommy, can you read me five-and-a-half stories?" she asked. 

"Five-and-a-half stories?" I repeated.

"Mommy, you're weird," she said. 

"You request five-and-a-half stories and I'm the one who's weird?"

"Yes. Every morning when I press my nose into your skin and sniff you...you smell so...weird."

"Oh. Well, thank you."

"You're welpum."

And then she squirmed out of the bed and picked five books from the shelf. We actually ended up getting through only four-and-a-half of them before she decided it was time for breakfast.

*****

Cancelled Primary Party

This morning we woke the kids up to get ready for the back-to-school primary party, but just as we'd all changed into our swimming suits...we got the message that it was cancelled—rather, postponed—due to thunder at the location.

But we hadn't heard any thunder at our location, so we decided that since we were all ready to go we'd head to the pool for a little while. We have a cold front—"False Fall," if you will—coming in and things are going to get mighty chilly, comparatively speaking. We have a high of 70°F tomorrow. Our windows are open right now. This is...weird. 

And it also means the pool will cool off significantly, so we thought we'd enjoy one last splash in the warm pool. And it was warm—it felt warmer inside the pool than it did outside this morning. 

We swam in the morning drizzle until a birthday party arrived. Technically you're not supposed to have birthday parties at the pool unless you go through the leadership and check a bunch of boxes. We'll assume this family did that. But they were also, like, eating popsicles in the pool which is technically speaking against the rules...and it got to be a little difficult for Phoebe to be there but not be part of the party (they have popsicles over there?! And music...and balloons...and...it was too much)...so we left. 

But before that we had a fun time swimming together. Zoë helped Phoebe work on her big arms:

Long live the sunscreen bottle!

As summer was winding down last year, the last full bottle of sunscreen got knocked from the counter and fell to the floor. The lid broke. In the most technical of terms: the little plug part simply shattered off the lid, remaining wedged in the little hole the sunscreen is supposed to squirt out of.  

Andrew wanted to throw it away, but I was like, "No way! It's still perfectly good inside!"

I tried to take off the entire lid so that I could perhaps squirt it into an old and more functional bottle, but that was an impossible task. So I moved to plan B. It took me quite a bit of time to pick out the little plug piece from the bottle the first time I did it, but I eventually managed it and triumphantly declared that it would be the first bottle we'd use this summer. 

We wouldn't use any other sunscreen until this stuff was gone...

Folks, we have finished off about five other bottles of sunscreen this summer (naturally).

No one ever wants to use this stuff unless I pull out the little plug and squirt it into their hands. The bottle has gotten a little...messy...over the course of the summer because the lid simply doesn't plug up as nicely as it might if it were, say, not broken. So it's lived in a ziplock bag in the pool bag (adding another layer of complication to self-application, further explaining why no one uses it unless I pull it out and force them to).

But I'm happy to announce that it is finally, finally (just about) empty. 

Any day now it will squirt its last squirt and we can retire it for good!

And we will all rejoice.

Saying goodbye to Rachel

Yesterday was a painful day of waiting. 

The day had come to say goodbye, but the hour was not yet at hand. So we just...went through all the motions of having a regular day...which was really anything but ordinary...and yet was entirely ordinary.

I convinced all the kids to come to the pool with me, in part so I could take our traditional "end of season" pool picture. Although it's not the end of the pool season yet, it is the end of an era:

(Zoë apparently taught Phoebe and Ireland to make peace signs in pictures, so they've both been trying to do it since.)

First day and last day at home with Rachel

A little over 18 years ago we brought our brand new baby girl home from the hospital. We placed her in her bassinet and...

Before a trip...

At our house, asking a child to do a chore somehow stimulates their bladder.

"I...have to go potty first!" they'll say.

And then I'll say something like, "Well, good thing I ask you to help out around the house, otherwise you'd never remember to go potty!"

*****

This is like that but it's like "good thing we send these kids on trips, otherwise we'd never take care of them."

I jest, of course...but this morning as we took Benjamin off to the doctor to finally fish a splinter out of his finger (that he got at YM camp the first week of June, wouldn't let me pull out, and assured me it would work its way out on its own...only to come to me the other day with a swollen, pussy finger...as if I'm the one who should have been keeping track of it all summer) so that it could be healing instead of festering while he's on his trip, I couldn't help laugh. 

We've taken Miriam to the urgent care twice before a big trip—once for a broken arm and once for an illness. 

It's not precisely that we plan these things, but it might seem like we only take them to urgent care immediately before sending them on a trip.

Here's Benjamin getting ready for exploratory...digging about:

Tip Toe Injury

I'm not saying that I'm better than everyone because I didn't get antibiotics, but I am going to say that whatever illness we had this summer was a doozy. And I didn't get antibiotics.

I was violently coughing for a month. But I didn't use antibiotics to help me get better.

I think antibiotics are useful—a miracle, even! 

When we put Alexander...and then Phoebe...on antibiotics for their double ear infections this summer they immediately (within 24 hours) started to feel better. And their ears cleared up. And they went back to being bright and happy children who could hear and everything. 

A miracle of modern medicine. 

Miriam got sick the same time I did, like...really sick. Everyone got sick in early June. But Miriam and I got really sick. And then everyone got better...except for Miriam and me. And we took Miriam to the doctor to see if she could get some help kicking this bug because she had her trip to the UK she wanted to be healthy for. They decided it sounded like a viral infection that had perhaps turned bacterial (I understand that a virus can't turn into a bacteria, but a bacterial infection is not uncommon to encounter after a viral infection), they put her on antibiotics...and she started feeling better. 

And then Phoebe and Alexander got really sick while the girls were in Europe, I believe. 

And then Rachel and Andrew got sick after they got back from Europe. Or Rachel did. And then Zoë and Benjamin got sick...right before their county meet. And then Andrew got sick. 

I don't remember when everyone got sick. I was a mess taking everyone (except Benjamin) to the doctor...one by one...as they fell like flies. 

"And when did their symptoms begin?"

"Right...so...let's see...it must have been...uhhhh..."

Look—I didn't know there'd be a quiz! 

(I have calendaring issues!)

All I knew is that we had been sick for forever. And that we waited so long to take Alexander and Phoebe in that the doctor gave me stink eye about them both having double ear infections (which aren't even contagious, but I think this virus just caused a lot of blockage in the sinus region that their little ears couldn't even handle—plus I don't even know why she was so miffed about it because we brought Phoebe and Alexander in together initially...and Alexander had visible infection in both ears and Phoebe had fluid—not infected—which turned into an ear infection over the weekend...so we ended up having to bring her in twice...which meant double the co-pay...). When Zoë started complaining about her ears I took her in right away—no infection. Whatever. 

And then Rachel eventually went in because she had had a bad sinus infection at the beginning of the year and the doctor was like, "Why did you wait so long to come in?"

And antibiotics helped her...but I think Andrew went in before Rachel so...

I'm not really clear on things. Benjamin got super sick and even threw up...but then got better really fast. 

And just when we thought everyone had been through it...Miriam got super sick again. 

That had me really worried that I was going to get sick again as well and I was was almost crying thinking about it because I had only just stopped coughing when she got sick a second time. But so far, so good. 

My whole theory is just that because I was so sick for so long, my body was creating a ton of antibodies so I had longer immunity to whatever this thing was...and Miriam (who had used outside help fighting this illness) caught it again when she was exposed to it because she didn't have to make as many antibodies herself. 

But I am not an immunologist, so I could have this all wrong.

Whatever the case, we're all mostly healthy. Andrew is still coughing a bit. 

And...I mentioned an adventure with the fire alarm the night before Zoë's county swim meet...well, let me briefly tell you that story: the fire alarm in our bedroom went off in the middle of the night.

These fire alarms are touchy. 

Say less

The other night I was talking to Andrew as he was brushing his teeth. 

I cannot even remember what I was talking about. But I said something that merited a response so he mumbled through his toothbrush something that sounded like, "Say less."

Now, taken literally, "say less" could be a polite (?) way of telling someone they're talking too much. 

This may have well been the case that evening. 

But, "say less" is also slang for "yes, absolutely, we're on the same page."

This may also have been the case that evening. 

But, "say less" isn't really something Andrew says very often because (1) he doesn't typically tell me to stop talking (he just endures it) and (2) he's a middle-aged man (sorry, but it's true) who doesn't use a lot of today's slang, so it wasn't very probable that he would say "say less" to me in conversation (unironically). 

I decided to wait until he had finished brushing to circle back on whatever it was I had needed a response about. He clarified his response. I cannot remember what it was (but he definitely agreed with me).

I think we were probably (maybe?) talking about swim team tryouts, come to think of it, because those are this week. And because I remember that we were trying to make a somewhat important decision...but I can't remember what decision it was because we successfully made it and got it squared away on the calendar. So I can't remember what it was...only that it was. 

Whatever it was—we handled it. Like the mature adults that we are.

Anyway, once we got his actual response squared away (and I put whatever we decided on the calendar so I could evidently completely block it from my actual brain), I told him, "At first I thought you said, 'Say less,' and I was like, 'Who do you think you are—my editor?'"

What a shock!

At three-and-a-half, Phoebe is still fronting all (or most) of her /k/ and /g/ sounds. 

I've been working with her, but she is...less easy...to work with than Alexander (who had the same problem). I showed him "One Cool Trick" (holding down the front of his tongue while he made /k/ sounds to prevent him from using the tip of his tongue to say /t/ instead) and he "Understood The Assignment" (that is, he voluntarily began to use his finger whenever he needed to say /k/). 

"I wanna bite!" he'd say. 

"You want a bite?" I'd repeat. 

"No! I wanna biiiiiiKe," he'd say, sticking his little finger on his tongue at just the right moment to make that /k/.

And then eventually we prompted him to say it without his finger in his mouth and—presto!—the boy had /t/ and /k/ figured out (and everyone could understand him much better). 

I've been trying this with Phoebe but she puts her finger in her mouth and then still uses the tip of her tongue to make a /t/ sound. And when I have her try it with my finger in her mouth she either gags or bites me, which is...neat.

We have been making slow progress and she even will sometimes naturally say /k/ in phrases like "Thank you." Really anything that has a /kju/ sound in the middle...she can say /k/ then. So I know it's possible for her to make that sound. 

But I am personally highly motivated to help her figure out at least that distinction by the time she has her next well-child visit because our doctor (1) does not really like the idea of homeschooling and (2) was super concerned that Phoebe's language is behind because she probably doesn't ever get to talk to anyone outside of our family and so we simply haven't noticed that's she's unintelligible. 

And I was like, "Weird, because objectively—as a linguist—I am zero percent worried about her speech at this point. And she actually does speak to people outside of our immediate family. And they do understand her (sometimes) and, honestly, compared to the other three-year-olds in her church class...she is rocking the whole language development scene."

And I'm just a little bit not interested in figuring out speech therapy...so I told the doctor we'd just work on it at home. Because I'm a linguist (because, well, I'm a linguist). 

And I fixed Alexander. What would be so different about Phoebe?

Well...the fact that she's...Phoebe. 

Phoebe is lovely, but she's got a little more...spunk...than Alexander had at that age. 

Not only will she gag or bite me—she'll flat out tell me no. 

(Weird, right?)

Pelican's in Georgia

It has been years since we've been to Pelican's!

We went on a family adventure on Thursday (which I will write about eventually) and there was a Pelican's right across the street! Who knew? 

Packing up for college

Rachel's room is just about packed up. She's got a pile of boxes/stuff to take to college, a pile of boxes/stuff to put in the storage room, and a suitcase to live out of for the next few days. 

The kids are all anxious about her leaving—excited to take over her space and scared about how much they're going to miss her.

Things are tense, but sometimes better when Andrew's working with her than when I am. When Andrew's down there he and Rachel and Miriam tend to laugh and joke. When I'm down there we all tend to break down sobbing together. 

It's fine. 

Vacuum packing things is incredible. We put Rachel's entire dresser in one bag and shrunk it down to a little slab of clothing. We put all of her bedding in another bag, sucked all the air out, and now it's completely portable. Same thing with her closet. 

Poison Ivy thoughts

This post is just to say that we're reading a book where the parents are, like, amazing zoo-running, animal-keeper, veterinarian-type people, who are so invested in their zoo and their creatures that they seem to neglect their own child.

In the scene we just read, the child describes how some workers in the zoo made a pile of brush—that included a fair amount of poison ivy—and when they burned the pile of brush the child came in contact with the smoke and started having a fairly intense allergic reaction.

His mother reached for the Benadryl, he tells readers, but then started thinking about all the animals that may have come in contact with the smoke, and ran off to sound the alarm and assemble all the animal caretakers to attend to their assigned creatures, leaving the poor little boy to measure and administer his own medicine. 

Poor boy.

But 'cept! 

Two beautiful moments to bookend my day

While I was still in bed this morning, Benjamin came into my room—dressed for working out—and asked me if I wanted to go for a run with him before the day got too hot. 

To think I used to have to bribe him to run with me!

Of course I had to say yes!

While we were out, I told him that soon he won't want to run with me because he'll think I'm too slow for him. But right now—in this moment—we make a good little team. 

It was still hot. And so humid—ridiculously humid. 

So we ran two miles. And chatted. And called it good. 

It was delightful.

*****

Phoebe just got out of bed a little while ago, all on her own.

I heard her jiggling the bathroom door, so I looked over (I can see the bathroom from my desk) and saw her standing there, fiddling with her pyjamas. 

I got up to help her and she held up her hand to stop me.

"I just can do it myself!" she whispered. 

Rachel's 18!

Last month the ward choir sang on my birthday and this month we sang on Rachel's birthday. That means that (1) we get to sing, which is always fun and (2) we don't have afternoon practice, and it's kind of nice to get to have the rest of the day at home after church.

Rachel, Miriam, and Benjamin had a youth meeting after church, though, so they ended up coming home separately from the rest of us, anyway. And they brought Andie over to play games. 

Soon after Andie left, Grandpa and Darla arrived for dinner. Andrew and Benjamin had spent the entire afternoon making orange chicken (which was a whole lot of work, but which was also delicious). After dinner we opened presents, played Swoop (a game Grandpa and Darla played a lot on their cruise/bike trip through Europe this summer), and then had cake.

It was a very low-key birthday. Rachel also planned a few game nights around but not on her birthday so that she could hang out with friends but not have them do anything embarrassing like sing to her.

Here she is opening her gifts, which were all things for living on her own—a dough whisk...

Triangles

The other day we were practicing drawing triangles (because Phoebe struggles with triangles and anything triangular...like the letter A, for example). I put three dots on the page for her and she practiced connecting the dots, resting her felt pen between strokes to get a nice angle in there. 

It's a work in progress. 

Sometimes she's really into practicing her writing and sometimes she's not. On this particular day she was a little not into it and I asked her why and she told me that triangles are useless because they aren't people and she just wants to learn how to draw people. 

Fair. 

So I turned one of my triangles into a little girl by adding a circle for a head and little stick arms and legs and...she was very impressed and drew one of her own. 

And then decided giving a hand-drawn person a body and a head felt like too much work and defaulted to her favourite "hody" form where the head is the body and the body is the head: 

(Tall) Tales, Stuffed Animals, and More Cousins

Rachel is 18 now...and it's kind of hard to think about my child being an adult. 

It's hard for Phoebe, too. Alexander (jokingly?) told her that adults don't get birthday presents and so when Phoebe saw Rachel this morning she was like, "Happy birthday...sorry you're an adult now..."

"Uh...why?" 

"Be-tuz adults don't get birthday presents."

Phoebe was rather relieved when Rachel did get birthday presents after all. 

Anyway, we'll write about Rachel later because for now I will share some thoughts about Phoebe (who is still a child, and who wants the exact presents that Rachel got today for her birthday when she turns 18, which I suppose simplifies our shopping). 

Not only did Phoebe have a very cousin Saturday, but she also got to have a video call with some more cousins today. We made an effort to phone my parents a little earlier in the evening so the kids could talk with them (so often I call after the kids are in bed, simply because we're a few hours behind all the happenings in the west). Phoebe had a great time talking (and talking and talking). 

She would start off each story with a little nugget of truth like, "The other day we found an Easter egg and it had actual candy inside!"

That is true—we found an Easter egg that we had not found during our Easter egg hunt. It had a few Robin's Eggs inside and I think Alexander, Zoë and Phoebe each ate one. 

"And then I went upstairs and my bed was all the way filled up with candy and I had to eat it all and it was so good!"

That is not true, actually.