A dozen things I learned this spring

Linking up again with Emily P. Freeman for her quarterly What We Learned feature...


1.  When looking for items on the top shelf of the fridge, instead of standing on my tiptoes, it's easier to stoop and look up through the bottom of the glass.


I picked up this tip from my kids; they can spot things before I can this way.

Cute Patootie Wyatt

2.  Our swim teacher from last summer is also a counselor at a crisis pregnancy center.


And this explains her caring nature and her heart for kids and teenagers.  It warmed my heart when I found this out.

3.  Kids are supposed to be able to make the "k" sound by age four.


When I researched and discovered this, I finally realized why a few people had expressed concern about Lizzy's speech patterns.  A few months later, she's in twice-weekly speech therapy sessions at the local college and pleased that she attends university before her siblings.

4.  Caleb doesn't know the alphabet.


Another significant teacher/mom fail.  Why isn't he learning to read??  Oh... the lack of understanding letters could be a factor in that.  So, a couple months ago we scrapped the "learn to read" program and restarted with a "learn the letters" program.

Let's start at the very beginning

A very good place to start

5.  March is a good time to try out a whole bunch of new recipes.


Middle of Little League season; not so much.  End-of-school crunch?  Nope.  But March.... when all the world seems to go on its muddy way as it always has been, time without end... yes.  Good time to go crazy and try every recipe you've pinned the whole rest of the year.  And it pays lasting dividends in the form of new favorites, even through Little League busyness.

6.  It's "20,000 leagues" forward, not deep.


Also in March, I read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea for the first time, having assigned it to Jeddy for a book report.  I always thought that measurement referred to how deep the submarine went (I had no idea how big a league is in relation to how deep the ocean is; thank you, Wikipedia; now I know the ocean is nowhere near 20,000 leagues deep).  It actually refers to the length of the journey Aronnax travels while under the sea.


Also, giant squids figure in the story much less than I expected, considering every cover of every edition, plus the posters for all the movies feature them.

7.  Short story collections are a great way to read without getting so sucked in that I can't put it down to feed my family.


...which some members of my family think is a definite drawback to my reading hobby.  The librarian recommended Jeffrey Archer's short stories to me, and I polished off A Twist in the Tale and To Cut a Long Story Short over spring break, enjoying them very much, and no one went hungry or wore dirty underwear because of my negligence.

8.  Competitive Scrabble is a thing.


I owe this knowledge to a lovely (adult-ears-only) grammar podcast that Jeddy can't believe I like to listen to while I run.

Lexicon Valley episode #6 is all about competitive Scrabble:  the strategy, the experts, the juicy controversies.

9.  If I drink coffee I can drive in the afternoon.


This, along with #12, actually falls under the heading of Really Useful News.


It has long been settled science that I am absolutely useless as a driving partner after lunch.  I can take the 3am shift, the 6am shift, the 10pm shift; but don't put me behind the wheel at 2pm unless you want to meet the guard rail.  Or, as inevitably happens, I pull over after thirty minutes, gasping and apologizing and rubbing my eyes.  2:00 pm is my weakness, rivaled only by the somnolent effect of being in a moving car.  Asking me to drive a car at 2pm is hopeless.


But!  When we took our trip to Washington, D.C., perhaps due to the heightened sense of being solely responsible for four children on an absurdly optimistic enterprise, I had the bright idea to get in the car that afternoon with a mug of coffee.


Being also absurdly sensitive to caffeine, I planned to only drink half a cup, but I guess I got carried away.  I might have had three quarters.


And I cruised into the city twitching and wiiiide awake.


On a more recent afternoon trip, I thought (foolishly) I could function like a normal person and drive a car after lunch.  Predictably, it became painful to keep my eyes open and remain in my own lane.  I found a rest stop vending machine that dispensed low-quality coffee, drank a small cup down, and--presto!--problem solved.


Maybe functioning like a normal person requires drinking coffee like a normal person.  Hmm....

From aforementioned "learn the letters" program.  "L" is for "llama with glued-on fur."

10.  Barry Manilow wrote the State Farm jingle.  


"How to Do Everything" is another podcast I'm fond of, and as it's pretty family-friendly, the older kids have gotten into it too.  I'm indebted to How to Do Everything for #10 and #11 on this list.


Also, I was thrilled to hear an interview with Barry Manilow.  I think I'm mostly thrilled that anyone else besides me knows who he is.

11.  Penguins have really long legs.


Who knew?


The lady interviewed for "How to Do Everything: Chips, Penguins, and Spy Planes" explains that penguins actually have long legs, but their belly skin covers so much of their legs that they have to walk like a woman wearing a long, tight skirt.


I know the feeling.  At least they're not also wearing platform heels.

12.  Dried beans are really easy to fix in the crockpot.  


Useful discovery number two this season.  Dried beans don't have to be intimidating, or complicated.  Put some on the bottom of the crockpot, fill the crockpot with well-salted water, turn it on low after dinner, and you'll have beans for lunch the next day.  Or start the process after breakfast and cook it on high until dinner.  As long as there's lots of water, crockpots and beans are pretty forgiving.

What did you discover this spring?



*The Sound of Music, "Do-Re-Mi"

The end draws near

Me:  "If I labored for twelve hours to give birth to you, you can do ten minutes of Latin."

Jeddy:  "I don't know.  Have you ever done Latin?"

My helpful diagram for Jeddy simplifying the relationships in Pride and Prejudice, rendered somewhat less perspicuous by Caleb's additions.

We're staggering toward the finish line of the school year, lurching and stumbling.  A few subjects are entirely done; others are plaguing our souls.

We face each school morning with varying degrees of courage.  Sometimes we quail, as I do before one of those yucky millipedes with millions of legs that run really fast across the bathroom when you turn on the light and splatter into numerous twitching pieces when you whack them with a flyswatter.  

*shuddershuddershudder*

Elizabeth, on the other hand, reacts to such diplopodous horrors somewhat differently.  

Recently she noticed a millipede scurrying across the kitchen floor where we were standing.  Before I had time to exclaim, she had reached down and plucked it up by its antenna between her thumb and finger.  She held it aloft and gazed at it while it writhed its many-legged body.  "Look," she said.  "I'm picking it up by its whiskers!"

Jeddy is done with most of his seventh grade work.  He spent this school day mowing the lawn and playing with Legos.  

Also, his voice changed.  Suddenly. 

I didn't notice it until I was half dressed one early morning and heard talking downstairs and thought, "Oh no, who's here?  There's a man in the house!" 

Seven more school days.  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can....

Wordless Wednesday

Sicky

Oh, nonsense!  People do not die of little trifling colds!

-Mrs. Bennett, Pride and Prejudice

Notwithstanding good Mrs. Bennett's confidence, this one is giving me a run for its money.

It takes all the faith I have and then some to believe that weakness can be a good thing.  Other women I know and admire have the energy of a hummingbird and the immunity of an ox...and here I am, laid low, again, by a little trifling cold.  

Although, in my defense, it might actually be strep throat.   

And Mayo Clinic adds insult to injury by declaring that strep is most common in children.  Ha.  Here's my children when they (rarely) have strep:

Here's me when I (more frequently) have strep:

Plus, my brief forays downstairs to find something to eat have shown me that I've passed the point of no return.  The house has descended into utter anarchy (never a long way down) and that moment when the best way to tidy up would be to burn the whole house down and start over.  Thus, the longer I take to recover, the stronger I need to be to face what's down there. 

How I long for the day with no more sickness, or toil.  I'm sure in heaven it's always 78º and the flowers are blooming; the house cleans itself; and I'm free from the shackles of infirmity.

He drained death's cup that all may enter in.

-Keith and Kristyn Getty and Stuart Townend, "Behold the Lamb"

Shifting

I've been feeling feelings lately that are hard to put a name on.  Depressed?  Bored?  Uneasy?  Frustrated?  Smothered?  "Restless" is the best I can come up with.


Is it the winter weather that won't quit?


Is it end-of-the-school-year burnout (despite us just finishing up spring break)?


Is it about-to-have-a-teenager angst?


Is it a mid-life crisis?


Is it underground plates of my life shifting in ways I don't yet understand?


Is it time for a good housecleaning and fresh decor?


Is it too many days, months, years spent under the crushing burden of responsibility for four young lives?


Is it cabin fever?

Opening Day ceremonies, indoors, due to 35º weather.

I inquired of my dear librarians about what it takes to volunteer at our little library.  The answer: not much.  I would not have to prove my worthiness beforehand nor commit to an unending schedule.  I haven't pursued it any further, but somewhere in the back of my head, blissful visions of sitting in the quiet stacks, organizing books by Dewey Decimal are still bouncing around.  It would get me outside of my four walls and associating with other adults at least. 


And I do love a great organizing system.

Our long-serving and incredibly competent administrative-assistant-to-the-children's-director just [honorably] stepped down at church.  An advertisement for her replacement appears in the bulletin every week, but I was also personally informed and asked to consider applying. 


I can't deny that it was intriguing.  This person gets to work closely with our children's director, whom I know and love, and fairly closely with all the other church staff.  And her basic job is to organize all the director's big visions for our children.  She gets to make lists and spreadsheets.  She can probably alphabetize things and maybe even work in some Dewey Decimal system.


It sounds like tons of fun.


It's also 25 hours a week. 


It didn't take a whole lot of thought to conclude that this isn't my calling right now.  Add it to my voluminous "Maybe Someday" list.

My very romantic birthday message to Jason, via Optimus Prime.

The thing is, I'm sort of arriving at some kind of "someday."  Jeddy's turning 13 soon.  All my kids are school-age.  We don't have babies, or toddlers, or even preschoolers.  No one's in diapers, no one is nursing, no one besides me takes a nap.  "What's possible" is taking on a much broader meaning. 


And I haven't quite figured out what to do with that.

Wordless Wednesday