September 1: our quotidian is OK with me

Today was absolutely a standard day at home: it's punctuated with good moments and bad. I don't chose to remember the bad moments, but it is worth knowing they exist, often sandwiched between the good moments.

playing beads

And, in the case of our day today, the bad moments are the causes of our good moments. Case in point: a bumpy, late morning led to 90 minutes of sincerely diligent work.

interesting way to practice the piano

I spoke frankly with the kids about our fall schedule, and how it's suddenly so busy (in the best of ways), and that we're really going to have to do consistent work in the small pieces of time we have. I pointed out that the best time for school work is before 9 a.m. 

energy to spare 

(also, dressed to head out the door at 8 a.m. today...the rest of us, not so much)

My fear is that we'll lose our time for read-alouds. Those require so much energy from me, to maintain the patience to read cheerfully while being bombarded by interruptions. I wish I could withstand the constant volley of words, but it really drains my cognitive reserves.

this girl ate lunch, though

I also realized around 4:30, after I came home from a meeting, that I'd not exactly fed the kids lunch. Much. Meltdown.

August 31: aerial silks

Field trip to the local aerial silks gym. The kids had been looking forward to this all month, perhaps because there are silks at their gym, but they rarely get to use them. (Funny: the instructor of this clinic asked if anyone had done silks before. Peter made the "kinda-sorta" hand gesture. She pounced on this: either you have or you haven't. There isn't "kind of.")

Peter might look like he's showing off here,

 but I've stretched with him, and this isn't anything. 

If he wants to warm up his muscles, he's got to go deep.

Lucy had hurt her foot the night before, and was literally hopping or crawling around, so she'd planned to sit out this field trip. After ten minutes, she changed her mind. While she couldn't do everything, she was able to have some fun. (Pouting not optional.)

(this pose didn't hurt her foot, I guess)

The coaches were able to get the kids into some pretty impressive-looking positions. They weren't allowed to climb very high, but they could hang and twist. It was an interesting experience from a parenting perspective: Peter tried to pay attention to the instructions, but his small feet made it difficult for him to climb. Also (and probably more importantly), he so very much wanted to be the BEST at this that he opted to brute-force climb the silks, like he'd climb the rope at the gym. Unsurprisingly, he said it hurt his hands. 

Lucy didn't pay quite as much to directions as she should have, and was very preoccupied with her foot, so her attempts were..interesting. 

And Thomas toughed this trip out. He struggled to climb high, as body awareness isn't in his skill set right now. but he kept a positive attitude and accepted coaching. He was partnered with an older girl, and she very patiently helped him as much as she could. Really, though, I didn't expect much from him of tiny little feet and a sport that involves complicated wrapping of fabric and climbing upon said tiny feet. 

\

These little girls played while the bigger kids climbed. Mary and Daphni are great at entertaining themselves, and, luckily for Mary, Daphni is pretty tolerant of her 3-year-old playmate. They have a lot of fun together, even if that fun involves running in the parking lot. 

"but what about socialization?" they say

(Yes, definitely hard to socialize in a mixed-age group of 25 children.)

We followed up our field trip with a Trader Joe's picnic at the one park in SLO that reminds me of the seasons. Here, the trees are starting to change to yellow. September must be around the corner.

August 30: Nature day in the trees

Almost like a scene from Caps for Sale

I hosted nature group this week, choosing a sweet little spot in some low-growing live oaks. I'd hoped the trees would invite climbing and provide shade, and they definitely did that. Younger kids were able to scramble up the low branches, and older kids could climb quite high.

Older kids opted to take the 2 mile hike out to a small cave. Peter went off with his friend, alone. It tested my boundaries, but I trusted the two of them together, even if they did return with full water bottles.

(Really, the only danger were rattlesnakes, coyotes, and bobcats. The mountain lions don't prefer the daytime hours. So, you know, no big deal.)

Lucy made the hike out to the cave as well, although she went with a larger group that included adults. I don't think she's quite ready to make that type of hike herself, based only on her reaction when she sees an earwig.

Thomas spent most of his time with another friend and a set of walkie-talkies. Lots of little-boy play with sticks (still not effectively banned, you see), ninja moves, and exploration. No tears, so I can only call it a success.

(Mary spent her time either eating snacks or antagonizing her little friend. Because: three year old.)

I happened to see that it was "National Toasted Marshmallow Night," and as I take all of my best ideas from random calendars published in small-market newspapers, I knew we had to celebrate. Fire pit and leftover birthday party marshmallows!

August 29: Monday's bringing it

This Monday started off in solid Monday fashion, with everyone forgetting how to behave during the week. Kevin ran out the door with "I'm running late, I'll probably miss the bus, see you later" over his shoulder. Thomas came into the bed and anagonized Mary just by his existence. Everyone started a board game on the FLOOR where ANNA CRAWLS and then complained that she was there. Breakfast was somewhat late. 

So: time to make cookies.

This was that moment when you think "is this recipe turning out, or did I just waste a pound of butter?" (Spoiler alert: these made some great shortbread cookies. Round 1 were chocolate dipped. Round 2 might be jam filled.)

Later, after some school work, the big kids returned to playing games. Here, they're playing a Chumash stick dice game. Players toss the sticks onto ground and win points depending upon how many designed stick faces show. Peter asked if it could go on forever. "No, it won't," I assured him. "Actually, it doesn't ever have to end. It could go on forever," he replied. Obviously he's a probabilist's son with a developed sense of the difference between "possible" and "probable."

Lucy has requested a fishtail braid for months, a request I have put off because her hair isn't long enough. It's still not quite long enough, but with my patience and her low expectations, I was able to give her one. Every time I braid my daughter's hair I think of the times I'd ask my mother to style my hair and the times she'd refuse. (And when she did style my hair, I'd always take it out. There might be a causal relationship here.) For some reason, I have equated French braiding Lucy's hair with Six Sigma mothering.

The big kids and Mary headed off to gym, leaving Anna and me behind. Typically, I spend this time trolling YouTube videos for fishtail braid how-tos (and other matters of dubious educational quality), but today I decided to get out for a walk. Anna has been sleeping like a coked-up howler monkey (read: not good), but I had a suspicion she could be coaxed into a nap if the conditions were right.

Like this view while cruising in the stroller! Technically she missed out on the view, as she had fallen into a beautiful sleep, but I didn't mind the views or listening to a podcast without interruption. Getting out and seeing the beautiful area we live is vital to remembering why we live here. I can walk ten minutes and find the bay, the sand dunes, and the hint of ocean air.

I wanted to explore around this grove of eucalyptus trees, but as I'd stopped pushing the stroller, Anna woke up, For the first time in a few years, I had the thrill of carrying the baby while pushing her stroller. Living the dream! 

August 28: Scenes from Bedtime

overheard bathroom banter:

"Peter, yoou look like Justin Beaver"

"Who is Justin Beaver?"

"A singer who is really rude."

Came in to find Mary investigating and identifying the dinosaurs on her pajamas. True fact: all parents are amateur, if accidental, paleontologists. 

August 27: Village Life Day at La Purisima Mission (but NOT THE WATERPARK)

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August 26: my baby is cuter than yours

I made the kids some souped-up chocolate milk drinks before gymnastics: chocolate, yes, but also nutritional powder and protein powder.

Oh, and sugar.

Later, after enduring a trip to Target with me, Anna and I hung out at the gym. Somewhere along the way our Kindle was lost. Knowing me, it was lost. My brain says it was stolen. Actually, my brain says that I had it, but then convinced myself I didn't, and then convinced myself I did again. The facts remain: unless it's in a very unexpected place in the car (possible; unlikely); or the kids have put it somewhere (more possible; less unlikely), it's missing.

The upshot is that I changed my Amazon password for the first time in half a decade. And that old password? It ranks "very weak" on the password testers, so probably good to have changed. Now it's only marginally more difficult for hackers to spend hundreds of dollars on whatever hackers buy on Amazon. I'd buy gift cards or chocolate.

The lost Kindle is just one more in a series of ways All Of Our Technology Is Dying All Around Us, my future autobiographical novel/very accurate description of the past few days in our household. I'm currently convinced this laptop will explode in my lap. If it requires electricity and has a microprocessor, it is probably doomed.

August 25: A delayed hike

A pretty typical day at home these days: school in the mornings, playtime for the little kids, and a bit of nature at the end. 

(copywork via The Flower Fairies)

We worked through a good chunk of morning time - geography, math, science, religion, and a few chapters of The Secret Garden. We even hit handwriting and copywork, with photographic evidence. You know, we also hit art. Our homeschool game is good right now, even if the kids do moan when I say it's time for school. 

We also discovered today that Anna loves tents. She can now climb up on the trampoline, which she loves to do. After Mary had built this tent, Anna crawled across the trampoline (avoiding bouncing), fell off the other end (her preferred dismount, rarely distressing), and then inside. And then she smiled. 

We took a pre-dinner walk to Sweet Springs. It was sunny but surprisingly cool; but for jackets and forgotten diapers, we might have stayed longer. 

surprisingly, the birds didn't like her energy

The Sweet Springs routine is this: we enter, run straight down the boardwalk to the bird viewing platform (it is an Audobon park, after all); after scaring away the sea birds, the kids hike through the poison oak to climb an accommodating eucalyptus. After climbing, we make our way toward the pond, back up to the entrance, and then knock over a few of the tree-stump stools to see what creatures we can find. 

prepping some eye kabobs

Lately, stick play has become a part of the routine. Boy play is so alien to me. Daily - hourly? - I have to remind the boys to stop hurting each other in the name of play. Adding sticks to the equation makes the play situation so much more...well, let me just say that I'm looking forward to the day the boys get glasses, because that extra eyewear protection will be much welcomed.

This visit, however, the kids got it in their head to haul a mysterious bottle from the back of the spring-feed pond. As Lucy explained, "there is a bottle there and I want to see if it has a message and if that message is a treasure map and then I want to find the treasure." 

(All 8-year-old girls speak in gigantic run-on sentences; I've been diagramming Lucy's friends and it's true.) 

The kids trod all over the sensitive habitat and poison oak, through some squishy marshy wetlands, and rescued some discarded bottle of booze. No note, although Thomas did say "we got you another bottle for free!" My love of free piles has been passed on. 

Sadly, though, the bottle broke, and we force-marched home with somewhat grumpy attitudes. 

(I would like to forget that evening, much like I'd like to forget this giant tick just free-ranging my bathroom.)

(Bedtime was EPICALLY horrible. Real birth-control moments.)

August 24: private pools (of a sort)

Now that most of the kids in the area have gone back to school, we homeschoolers can crawl out of our summer hibernation and enjoy the world again. It might not be the most attractive mindset - that of "school kids ruin it all" - but when you get to explore the far corners of this gorgeous county in private, you get a little spoiled. Three other families at the beach? It's a crowded day! 

I knew a pool visit would be at the top of my list for this back-to-school week, and that visit was made doubly fun thanks to the company of Kevin and our homeschool co-op. For a few very, very lovely hours, our children were the only ones splashing in the pool. 

tiny specks of ash

We woke to a foggy day, smoke-tinged air, and the first spotting of ash in our area. It's like the clouds have dandruff. These wildfires are no joke. I remember the first time we had a wildfire summer, while living in Mountain View, and feeling astounded that the fires in Santa Cruz could be smelled so far away. I remember also, while camping on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, feeling large pieces of ash land on us from the fire across the rim. We have very little scale for the size and power of these fires. 

 too hot in the hot tub

But! Back to the pool. While the hot tub generally is off limits (and there is a big sign that says "NO CHILDREN UNDER 18 ALLOWED," which is enough for this rule-follower to tuck tail and skulk away), another mama shepherded some very excited kiddos into the empty tub. That hot tub made all the difference: typically, this part of SLO is cooler and quite breezy, and since it's not especially hot in this area, anyway, pool trips tend to be short. Jump in, splash, freeze, go home. But with the hot tub? You could warm yourself up like the little reptile you are...then hop back in the pool. (Or, in the case of Peter and his friend Violet, make a pact to jump in together and then...not.)

Once there were no available mamas, the kids quickly turned on their token 18-year-old-therefore-adult friend to accompany them. As far as I could see, the mixed-age vibe in the hot tub was about as good as could be expected. Teenagers looking to relax and talk probably didn't enjoy the water guns and kindergarten splashing. That is, however, the nature of mixed-age groups.

 safe on dry land

Anna B was here, but did NOT like the water. Kevin put her feet in, and she cried. But have no fear, because Mary did go into and out of and all around the water, including into the big pool with Kevin. Mary hasn't quite figured out if she likes water, She will reliably put some part of her body into some amount of water, and considering where she was two years ago, that's fine by me.

pool acro

The kids spent much more time in the pool than I would have thought. This includes Peter, who tends to be good for 30 minutes at most. Everyone hit a sweet spot with enough playmates willing to play the right kind of games. (Disclosure: Mary spent her time at the food table. Because Mary is in charge of snacks.)

 flipping and rotating

The bigger kids put their gymnastics skills to work, including some pretty impressive dives from Peter and Thomas. Both jumped and flipped into the pool, but Thomas also mastered diving into the water after his first try. I feel as though his skill set skews toward water in a big way.

On dry land, the girls tried out a new Australian toy that our friend is reviewing. Making friends with YouTube toy reviewers is a good idea, mamas! Although in this case, we were friends before the YouTube channel took off.

From the pool it was straight to gym, with just a minute or two to spare. Peter in a good hour of time with his friends, while Mary attracted bored children, like moths to a light, with episodes of Daniel Tiger. (I really lament every bad thing I said about children and technology, as #4 is determined to push all my buttons. BUT, I did read a few stories to her, and it attracted even more children than the tiny telephone did, including some 10+ kiddos.)

Kevin and I dared to think that with FOUR HOURS at the pool and then another hour of workout on top that the little kids would be sleepy and headed for an early bedtime. I even dared to say, "maybe we should change Mary's diaper, since she'll probably fall asleep on the drive home."

Ha!

Mary did not fall asleep, but she did help me make blueberry muffins for breakfast, so I guess I'll take it.

August 23: Nature day at Biddle Park

little girls at play while big kids math out

We've been in full reorganize-our-life mode here at FDR HQ. There are lots of new rule and consequence lists, stepped up expectations, and, thankfully, a concomitant level of peace and good cheer. It takes a good deal of structure to hold up a family this large, and it turns out that some of the bigger ones weren't quite lifting their shares.

copywork

So we're starting this week - which is NOT back-to-school-week, but also kind-of back-to-school-week - with a renewed sense of order. It does this INTJ mama a lot of good. And while the older children might not get revved up over piano practice at 7:30 a.m., they have expressed sincere relief in the late afternoon when they realize that they've already done that task which causes no small amount of family strife.*

We're also easing into a new school routine. We found a great rhythm last spring, only to be thrown off the tracks by Lucy's daytime gymnastics workouts. Now that our weekday hours are ours again, we can return to our morning basket and a little table work before heading out on adventures.

when your friends have a truck, every day is a parade

One new part of our routine is participating in a local nature explorers group. I'm on the fence with this one, but it hits our sweet spots well, those spots being nature and outside and unstructured play. The kids have a nascent sort of connection with a few of the group's members, so we're going to give it a solid 8 visits before reassessing. So much of friendship formation at this age is simply familiarity.

THIS BABY!

Today's event took us to a new-to-us park in Arroyo Grande. It was the type of environment I forget exists here on the Central Coast,** which are giant trees whose leaves promise fall colors, dappled shade in crunchy-floored forests, and flies. Also mosquitoes. 

studies in centrifugal force

But for 10 minutes, this was a spectacular visit. Kids were reasonably happy, entertained, and kind. Even Mary, who historically struggles in playing with girls her age, was pleasantly engaged with peers.

Then lots of bad stuff happened, mostly resolving around Thomas's failure to read social clues, desire to play guarding games, and sticks. STICKS! It's enough to make us stay at the treeless beach forever.

We escaped the park and headed back to SLO, where we dropped off a trunkload of too-small clothes and found some solid deals, including sparkly red little heels for one lucky little girl. (Not me.)

*Sample conversation: "JUST PLAY YOUR PIANO." (terrible, rushed and messy practice follows.) "AAAAAHHHH! PERFECT PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT!" Also in this cacophony: fussy baby, cranky toddler, dinner boiling over...

**Because I don't like to travel father than 10 miles from the ocean.