Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Last man standing

First Lanie ... then Shane ... and this morning: Erin. She came into my room to cuddle, then a bathroom break, then panicked cries of nausea and heaving.

Cartoon marathon on the couch, 101.5 fever, noo-noos in hand (her baby blanket), and my busy day of teaching the last pages of Arthur and running around town at a halt to hang at home with my mini me.

I was just bragging the other night that Erin and I must have the supergenes. Another mama looked at me cautiously like I had just jinxed myself.

I will not succumb.

I found an adorable rhinestone super(wo)man shirt decal on Amazon the other day. Ordering it as a reminder--UNSTOPPABLE.

On, on.


Monday, February 23, 2015

The trick

Facebook pretty picture and words.

"The trick is to enjoy life. Don't wish away your days waiting for better ones ahead."

I get this.

Two-hour icy delay meant, at Erin's request, that I crawl into bed next to her and cuddle her in the morning instead of waking her up for a co-op day. I'd already had two cups of coffee, awaiting the announcement. I still dozed.

Lanie was sick last week. Then Shane came down with something else (imagine this guy bundled and chilled and trying to get as much rest as possible, then to go out and plow a driveway 1/8 of a mile long, and 10 inches deep of snow). He was sick for four days. (I would have plowed the driveway if he taught me how to use it, but has held off on that lesson because he knows once I know: I will be UNSTOPPABLE. Seriously, after living here, what can't I do? Besides plow the driveway...)

Kids in jammies today. Erin out in 20 degree weather sliding down the hills, squealing and shrieking and it's music to this heart. She's my all-weather girl. We got a fire going in the school room and read about ancient history Persians and Athenians and pulled out the atlas and looked at the region. Talked about religions today and life in other countries and made wishes of places we'd like to visit. (She wants to go to France, and so do I.) Followed by math flash cards, grammar, spelling, and other stories. This is the delight of a home day, when there is no Monday-Wednesday crunch, and it's everything I love about our life.

The kids dressed up when lessons were completed to ride sleds again. Lanie popped her head inside to say, "Hot chocolate and some popcorn might be nice in about half an hour."

"I can do that," I told her.

Smiles.

They loved sledding backwards down the hill into the field. I seriously need to get some snow pants.
 Wine cork Pinterest project and a glue gun ready. Laundry to fold. A list of to-do for February's end, then March, then April.


But for now, I've got popcorn to pop, because I know the trick. 

Those little mugs. A wilty tulip. Dishes on a counter to put away.

Enjoy these days, all of them. The laundry, the cleaning, the shoveling, the sick (days), the schooling, the sweeping, the dishes, the fires, the mess, the running ... enjoy these things.

The kids were so happy when I pulled out whipped cream and marshmallows. Is that all it takes?


And still counting (6653-6684)

decisions made
moving through
wood for the fires

Shane
blankets and robes
peppermint oil
a load of coffee
sangria chilling

snow cream for four
naps on the couch
socks, doubled on my feet
a garage attendant with a sense of humor
arms up high on the ride down from the top level

a car load of kids
a museum trip
medieval pieces that were once someone's treasure
gloves
docents who showed up just for us

skate day
sore legs
snow showers and many inches
a Saturday at home
family on the mend

mild temps for shoveling
a snowball fight
a full fridge
electricity
friendships reflected

clean floors under the couches
pushing through with character
King Arthur's knights
Marshall's mom

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Snowy day

We're on a home day anyway, but it sure was nice to wake up to snow (and hopes for delays in the morning that could score us another cozy morning).

My phone chimed a reminder it's trash day.

"Do we have to take the cans up?" Lanie asked.

"No," I said. It's probably 3-4 inches and a serious workout dragging full cans to the road. Somehow, winter lengthens the walk. I already know that the postal carrier will be holding onto my coffee order until we get this driveway plowed (insert pout).

Erin suited up and sled down the hills. She looked so little. I struggle to think of Lanie at this age, when we moved here, so little. So young. I snagged a few photos of Erin.



"I love you, Mommy!" she called out at the bottom of the hill.

"I love you too!"


This afternoon she wants to patch up some holes in her stuffed animals. I'm on a fourth load of laundry. Schooling at a leisurely pace, as later this week we've got "no homework days" for field trips.

I made a pot of soup for lunch and a side of bacon. Lanie crumbled slices of bacon on a plate of rice, chicken and cheese. Erin ate a cheese sandwich. I sneaked out half a bar of chocolate from the freezer while the kids played upstairs.

There's no place like home.

Still, I find myself saying more and more often, "Only a few more weeks till March."

I miss the green of spring.