The canine conundrum

Samwise is a great dog. He's patient with the girls, super obedient and as submissive as you want a dog to be. He's a sweet Labrador, and we all love him.
But he's strong. Freaky strong. This is not a big deal when everything is going well, but seeing as things are not going perfectly with this pregnancy, it is an issue. Today he pushed past me so hard and fast to get outside he dislodged my kneecap. It is still swollen and hurts. Later today he almost knocked me off my feet. He's only a year old, and his puppy exuberance is natural, but it scares me considering everything that is going on. If he knocked into me hard enough, or ran into my legs, I could be in some serious trouble. I don't know what to do about this. Trevor tells me to leave him outside, but I spend almost all day outside with the kids anyway.
Thinking of giving him away makes us all sad. He's a good dog. But I am afraid of the damage he could potentially do. If he caused me to go into premature labor or caused the baby to come into danger, I'd drive him to the pound myself.
So what do we do?! Hope he calms down? The only good solution I've come to is to make Trevor promise to take him on extra long walks in the morning, and pray. Good ideas, anyone?

Buoyancy

I've been wanting to get these little boats for my girls for a long time, had to wait for a month with room in the budget, and the weather to turn warm. It was worth the wait, and we had a lovely adventure in the creek.
Girls learned about buoyancy, and quickly figured out how to keep the boats floating. Looking forward to warm summer days!

Crazy hair day, or not

Today at preschool was Crazy Hair Day. Bet you could tell. When I asked Millie if she was interested, she looked at me like I was crazy, "I always want perfect Millie hair, not crazy hair." I knew it wasn't even worth asking Jo, not my child who wears sensible black shoes. She'd never spring for that; she wants her hair done the exact same way everyday.

Didn't ask them to hug, all I said was "Stand there and think of something funny. Hooby dooby!"

Amelia is obsessed with bubble gum. Love that you can see it in this picture, it's so her right now.

A new Jo

It happened. Sooner than I thought.

Josephine did not mention monkeys once today.

Not in passing, not in their games, she didn't pick a monkey toy to play with. I don't think monkeys crossed her mind. Only those who know her well will understand how big this is. I noticed about a month ago that she was branching out, and since then I've been paying attention to see if and when it came to an end. Today was the first day monkeys did not figure in.

I have a theory that monkeys were Jo's mechanism for understanding the world. If she was put in a stressful situation, she retreated to her monkey-filled imagination. When she was overwhelmed by the choices of play at nursery, a toy store, or a friend's house, she could organize her options by eliminating all but the monkeys. Same thing with books at the library. It was the way she would interact with others: conversations based on monkeys.

But I think now, at nearly 4, she has enough vocabulary and intellectual grasp of the world and her place in it that she doesn't need that security. She doesn't need the 'monkey framework.' As a parent, it is interesting to see the new ways she is defining herself, and what sparks her imagination. She has gone after anatomy with the same interest as monkeys, but it doesn't play nearly the role that monkeys did.

It's like meeting a new Jo.

teepee time

The quiet minutes

Had a hard day today. It was just a mash of bad karma. So it helps to reflect on the parts that were great, because there are always those parts too.

My girls are all in a princess phase, and occasionally run around the yard and call to each other "Sister Princess! Sister Princess!" It reminds me of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, which has always been one of my favorite fairy tales...

For about twenty minutes before naptime, I lay with the girls on their beds and we all read to ourselves. It's quiet, restful, and I love how the girls 'read' with focus. I keep a steady stream of books catered to their interests from the library...I look forward to those quiet minutes.

Because everyone needs a crazy fourth grade teacher

My fourth grade teacher came to class everyday wearing sleeveless cotton sundresses, that somehow always revealed her black bra straps. She wore her hair in a huge, loose bun. She was single. She also saw every new class as a crop of young minds ready to be indoctrinated in the ways of environmentalism. Every single subject matter was devoted in some way to learning how we are polluting and destroying the planet. I mean every subject. I have carried guilt for being alive ever since.

Every Wednesday the math portion of class was replaced with Hawaiiana. A 300 lbs. native Hawaiian man would squeeze through the doorway, ukelele in hand, and teach us about the Hawaiian pantheon. How to pray to the ancient Hawaiian gods. The goods parts of native plants to eat. The seasons and tides. The sacred names of the ocean creatures. Names of the volcanoes. He was the sweetest man you'd ever meet, but I have many hazy memories of endless traditional songs sung with his ukelele, while I fought off the sleepies on my desk.

One day in eighth grade, in Utah, my English teacher asked the class if we knew who Pele was. My hand shot up, "She is the Hawaiian goddess of fire and volcanoes." My teacher was caught off guard, and laughed at me. So did the class. I was so embarrassed, and it was that day I realized how different my grade school education was.

I'm sad when I think about how my girls won't be raised in Hawaii. They won't have as many crazy stories, or live in a house on the beach, or learn the names of the Hawaiian gods. Trevor and I talk about moving to far distant shores with our children and giving them varied experiences. I imagine we will, once we grow out of this desperate baby-toddler-preschool stage.
Everyone needs a crazy fourth grade teacher.

The Disneyland Monster

My family is going to Disneyland this week, last trip before my sister leaves on her mission (to Anaheim, ironically enough). It is impossible for me to tag along. Not only does my doctor advise against it, I just don't have the energy to take my kids. Even with a wheelchair and extra adult hands to help. I know this. But I still can't seem to come to a mature place about it. I feel like the girl in eighth grade who didn't get invited to the cool party, and I'm feeling sad and pouty and completely immature about it.
I was explaining this to my husband, he responded (somewhat paraphrasing):
"You know, it's not all your fault. Your mother raised you to have an inner Disneyland Monster. You grew up nurturing this monster, believing that Disneyland is the ultimate experience, and if you don't feed the monster, it gets grumpy. So of course you can't be mature about it!!!"
After having a hearty laugh about this, I realized its true. From as early as I can remember, Disneyland was the balm for just about anything. Getting shots at the docs, mom would hold our hand and say "Think about your favorite place at Disneyland." If we had a stressful semester, she'd say, "Well it's only five and a half more months till we go to Disneyland again." Boy heartaches? Lets just go to Disneyland. My mom's musical, art and entertainment choices? All Disney.
Compound that with dozens of perfect summer memories with my best friend of all time at the Park, a husband who also loves the happiest place on earth, and three tiny princesses who have small Disneyland Monsters I've unwittingly planted within them, and yeah. My life experience has taught me this equation:
Disneyland = The Most Fun You Can Have in This Life

So. I'll be doing battle with my inner monster this week. And I hope my family has a wonderful, wonderful time.

A built in study buddy

The complaint I hear most often from friends who's children just started kindergarten is that there is too much homework; takes too long for a five-year-old's attention span. Since I still have a long year before my twins start kindergarten, I thought I'd start making them do homework now. My thinking is if I have them doing age-appropriate worksheets for twenty minutes a day now, and increasingly work it up to an hour, maybe it won't be such a hard thing for them when they start school. They still don't ask me why we are doing things, they just are.

So far? Total success. Only hard thing is adapting the pages for Hazel, who of course can't be left out of anything, but isn't at the twins level. She gets angry and frustrated being behind...

And, adding to my list of "Reasons Why Having a Twin Would be Cool,' how great is it to have a built in study buddy for life?!

first still lifes

We had a small lesson on still lifes. We talked about how artists look at something, then paint. Observations of details. Then we tried painting a tulip...

Josephine's

Hazel's

Millie's