Kazakh sun-bathing

This is Julie lounging on a pool chair (is it time to store them away for the season yet?) during a snowfall. Don't think she's quite got the concept.

New skates

Finally found some ice skates roughly the sizes we needed and on sale, so I picked up a few pairs, along with some hockey sticks and pucks. Got another good freeze, so the kids got to go try out the skates instead of just slip-slidin' around our pond in their snow boots. They had a blast. An icy blast. It was about 12 degrees out. I decided they were safe enough if I watched from the window with a hot cup of coffee in my hands.

The Fountain

We've all heard the jokes of the dog's perception of the toilet as an eternal fountain. No matter how much they drink, there's always a supply of "fresh" water waiting for them.
I wonder if my two new kids must think of our kitchen and pantry in that way. No matter how much they eat (which is considerable), food just keeps reappearing. The apples, the yogurt, the milk, the pretzels, it just keeps on comin', as if fed from an underground spring.
How I wish. Keeping the coffers filled has become a job in and of itself. I feel like my car is set on auto-pilot to take me to the grocery store and I know the cashiers by name.
Must be a strange feeling for the kids. In the past, they only ate when the food was placed before them at mealtimes. Now they know they can take fruits and vegetables whenever they want, without even asking. Other snacks are available to them too if they just check with Mom first. And cleaning their plates at dinner (never an issue) means dessert afterwards, usually ice cream. Ice cream! They always look at me in disbelief after their first bite.

I'm glad we're able to provide this all-you-can-eat (within reason) buffet for them, and I'm glad to see them growing so healthy and strong. It's worth all the extra trips to the grocery store, and the bigger totals at check-out.

Still wish we had that underground spring providing it all.

Head Honcho

I was out at the barn feeding my critters the other day. I probably should have taken notes, because my horse Jasper could teach me a thing or two about quiet authority. While he was eating his grain undisturbed, a whole mess of goats was fighting over another bucket several yards away. Fur was flying and horns were being smashed into rather delicate areas as chaos ruled. I remember thinking how their behavior reminded me of my kids. Didn't matter that there was grain distributed all around, with plenty for all, they each felt like the bit right in front of them was rightfully theirs. Not one of them could see that the situation would be improved if they could share. Meanwhile, as they fought over the bucket, Jasper finished what was in front of him and decided to see what else was around to munch on. He simply walked over to the goats' bucket and they all scattered as he settled down to dine. They looked mighty forlorn, I can tell you. Because of all the fighting, they had each only gotten a bite or two and now Jasper was eating the rest. Though there was a lesson there for them, they didn't learn it. They're goats. But I'm hoping I'm just a hair smarter than them and can learn from Jasper how to exert my authority over my kids. None of the goats questioned him, and he didn't need any loud obnoxious displays to get what he was after. So if I can tap into his mastery of authority, perhaps I can stroll into a room and quietly tell my kids what I need them to do, and they will immediately step into action without question. Jasper didn't need to ask them nicely three times to move over. He didn't need to yell. He didn't even threaten to remove barn privileges if they didn't listen. What was his secret? I did notice he pinned his ears as he walked over. If I try real hard, maybe I can wiggle mine a bit, but I don't think I can pin them flat like he did in that menacing manner. Of course, he also weighs about a thousand pounds. Maybe that's the trick. Alright, if that's what it takes.

So if any of you see me putting on a considerable amount of weight, you don't need to inquire about my health. I'm just trying to get my kids to listen better.

Snippets of Conversation

James: Patrick, computer .....
Patrick: James, it needs charging, it's low on batteries. BAAA-TER-EEEES.
James: Patrickkkkk, computer!
Patrick: BAAAAA-TER-EEEEEES!
James: Patrick, you owned!
Patrick: No, YOU owned!
James: Patrick pookala [pass gas]. POOOOO!
Patrick: No, James pookala!
(These last two you can play on a loop as long as you like)

Rosie: Julie -- M and I are going out sledding. Wanna come?
Julie: No. Julie, Mommy.
[Julie's sentences resemble addition word problems, where she strings together a bunch of words as though adding them all up]
Julie: Mama? Julie, Mommy, macheena, storya. Yes?
Me: No, Julie, not right now. Nee see ches.
Julie: Mama? Julie, Mommy, help, mmmmmm, oojin? Mmmmm, dinner?
Me: Yes, Julie, you can help me make dinner.
Julie: Owww!
Me: Julie, maybe if you give Mom some space (gesturing like a crazy person), I won't step on your foot when I turn around.
Julie: yaneepaneemyou [I don't understand].

School on the Run

Seemed like a simple plan when I made it. Clear the morning calendar. Make a nice space in the dining room for ESL (English as a Second Language) lessons. Every morning, get the other kids on the bus, then sit down with James and Julie and proceed to teach them English. Follow each well-taught lesson with a trip to the barn together for chores, and then a stroll down our country lane, pointing out the English words for familiar items such as fence, tree, goose. Throw a few bluebirds twittering around our heads and you get the picture.
Yeah. Well. That's happened all of like, twice. More commonly, we're picking one of the kids up from school to run them to the doctor or orthodontist, going to the grocery store for the third time in a week, schlepping out to the social security office for more paperwork, or any one of the myriad of things that keep popping up to fill these new gaps in my calendar.
So usually we have school on the run, as we listen to ESL CDs in the car or I point out things while we're driving around, like truck, bus, train, etc. Skojit "hobo". One drawback to this method is that I'm about to lose my friggin' mind. If I have to listen to this Bryan Adams wannabe and his cheesy accompanying musicians sing "What's Your Name" or "Supermarket Sally" one more time I am going to leap out the window and start playing in traffic. But the kids love it. "Mom, Mom, What's Your Name. Please? What's Your Name." OK. One more time ....
Another occupational hazard to being in the position of ESL teacher is that I've come to resemble a silent movie actor in my manner of speech. As I point out a new word to them, I am striving with every nuance of my facial expressions and body language to convey its meaning. Imagine, if you will, my melodrama as I teach by charade the words happy, or angry. While it seems helpful during the lessons, it's gotten to be a hard thing to switch on and off. I might say to someone, "I like your shirt (sweeping my arm up and down across my torso to indicate shirt). It's pretty (with a stupid happy face on). It's red (might gesture to several red things at this point)". They just look at me and I know what they're wondering. Where's her 'special helmet'?

Daniel

Daniel. The baby of the family. The red-headed monkey. For as long as he's been on this earth, Daniel has been making people laugh. He definitely has a gift for story-telling, and will captivate his audience du jour with his vocabulary and creativity when spinning his latest yarn. He has the need to pace when he talks, so be prepared to get dizzy as you watch him walk round and round the table while his eyes sparkle, his dimples deepen, and his tongue waggles. Not sure how it's possible, but he seems to grow more freckles as he talks.

Besides creative story-telling/writing, Daniel is also a gifted artist and never ceases to amaze me with his artwork of knights, soldiers, dragons, maps. He can play for hours, with only himself for company, creating set-ups with his army guys, his Playmobil castles, blocks, or whatever he has on hand at the moment. Or I'll see him in some corner of the house, wearing a mask and cape, wielding a sword against some unseen enemy, keeping the house safe from imminent danger. His imagination is bottomless, and his ability to tap into it never fails to enthrall me.

He, like his brother Patrick, has provided me with quite the challenge over the years when it comes time for discipline. A parents prized possession is the privileges we allow our children to enjoy. But because Daniel has such an incredible ability to use his imagination as a source of entertainment, we can remove every fun modern kid magnet from his world and he's still good to go. No X-Box? No problem. No TV? Doesn't put a hitch in his stride. Time-out? Plenty of fun material in that brain of his to keep him entertained for a good long while.

But it all adds up to one interesting little package. Each day with Daniel is a new adventure, and I always look forward to seeing what's in store for the day when he's around.