Another Year is Gone

2020 was bleak…and 2021 has been bleaker. As it closes today and rolls into 2022 in only a few short hours, I can’t say I have high hopes for another year. Grocery shopping is getting more and more painful, not to mention the idea of providing clothes and other things for my family. It’s pretty certain any pay increase is not going to catch up to the inflation…if Ed even has a job next year. Vaccine mandates aren’t making that look very promising. As if the media wasn’t a bunch of ridiculous liars to start with, the fact that they can’t do anything but re-hash the continual lies is crazy. Aren’t they driving themselves insane? We have a demented President, a deluded Vice President, and a bunch of other politicians who do anything except their jobs. Any hopes I have for 2022 only make me cry. They probably won’t happen. I should just be glad if we make it through each day.

 

I should also remind myself that 2021 did have some high points. At the very least, I hardly ever wear a mask anymore, suffocating on my own germs. We all got Covid and got that out of the way, only Ed and I actually having any sickness at all. The kids were all asymptomatic. We travelled over the summer which was nice. The kids are doing well, despite the world they live in. We have a roof over our heads, no matter how small this house gets with each passing month. Ed does still have a job, and so do I. Our needs are met and the Lord does allow us to save some, car repairs and other surprise expenses aside. We really are blessed no matter how weary the world around us is.

 

I also reached beyond my reading goal this year. I aimed low, one book per each letter in the alphabet. I exceeded that by reading two per letter except the letter Y. I just couldn’t find a second title on that one I wanted to read. I also read at least 20 more books, including some on my own shelves. It’s also been fun revisiting some books this year I’ve read aloud to the kids: Little House on the Prairieand The Magician’s Nephew.Both kids love Narnia.

 

I have to say I am glad 2021 is over. I can’t say I’m excited about 2022. However, it does make John’s cry in Revelation all the more sincere: “Even so, come, Lord Jesus!”

Christmas!

Ellyson is one of those kids who lovesto get her picture taken…except when she doesn’t. And when she doesn’t, there is no way under the sun you are going to make her sit there and be a part of the picture. So, I apologize in advance for the lack of nice Christmas pics. Ellyson wasn’t having any of it!

 

In a lot of ways, our Christmas started the weekend before Christmas. My sister Abby threw my sister Jenny a “surprise” 30^thbirthday party on Saturday. The surprise part was the arrival of our sister Katey and her boys from New Hampshire. Our sister Sally, currently in Florida for Naval training, flew in Saturday and met the rest of us at Abby’s apartment. We all went to dinner and had a really good time:

 

Five of the six of us: Sally, me, Katey, Abby and Jenny.

 

Emry, meanwhile, was at her dance team Christmas party. Then she joined all her cousins, my parents and Ethan at one of the local play areas. Ed and Elly joined them all for dinner. I think my parents were exhausted. I only got one panicked call that night, so it was 95% successful.

 

So, we all convened at my parents’ following church the next day: six of the eight of all, one spouse, and all six grandkids. We had a Christmas dinner, some gift opening, and tried to get pictures of all six of the grandkids. Ellyson did a bit better for this photo op following the drama of the morning’s:

 

The best of a dozen from the morning…

 

And the best of the afternoon with cousins Jay, Curtis and Benito.

 

Thankfully the week before Christmas was quiet. No events, some school, a lot of anticipation and prepping. Christmas Eve was spent at my parents’. Sally was still in town and Caleb had arrived for a couple of days. We opened a gift each that evening, and took a ton of gifts home for the morning. I confess they all had melatonin before bed to help them sleep. Still, when Ellyson woke as usual about 4 in the morning, Emry was awake and lamented, “Mama, this night is soooo long!”

 

Still, they didn’t awake until 8 to cause mass chaos in our living room. Paper and gifts flew everywhere. I’m still not 100% of who gave them every gift they received. Ellyson was worn out by gift #3. And quite content with her Baby Shark for the bathtub and Emry’s baby doll. (Yes, Emry’s. We’ll let her use her Christmas money for one of her own!) Our trip out to my parents’ was delayed with all the rain and flooding on their property, so we went out later to enjoy leftovers. Not exactly the epitome of the day, but I don’t think the kids even noticed. 

Ethan and one of his gifts.

 

Emry and Ellyson opening a gift.

One Night Last Week...

At the end of the day, you can only speak from your own experience. Covid was nothing. I had it. It was like a flu. The only weird thing was the lost of my smell and taste. It took weeks to come back, and I’m still not sure I’ll ever have it back 100%. I’m glad I had it. The anticipation of contracting it is over, and since it’s highly unlikely that one can get it again….I’m good!

 

But food poisoning? Well, I honestly thought I was going to die.

 

Monday night last week at about ten o’clock as I was finishing up some work project, I started to feel a little off. I figured I was tired. Ellyson had been waking up multiple times at night and even a nap that day didn’t seem to help a lot. So, I got ready for bed, read a little bit, and fell asleep. 

 

About 2 o’clock, I woke up feeling sick to my stomach. I lay there and rubbed it, feeling a bit better. I heard Ed pull into the driveway…followed by a very loud bang. Had he forgot to open the garage door? Had I left a bike or something in his path? Had he gone too far and crashed into our stored washer and dryer? None of that seemed right because he’s usually careful backing into that tight space…and I was too sick to really care. Then Ellyson woke up.

 

I knew whatever had happened, Ed would be angry and wouldn’t want to deal with Ellyson so I got out of bed. He came in and told me he had hit the passenger side mirror, knocking it off except for the wire it hung by. Still not well enough to care, I wandered into the girls’ room, looked down at Ellyson in her crib, and felt the whole room start to spin. I thought I could make it to the couch, called for Ed, and promptly blacked out.

 

The next thing I knew, I woke up to Ed shouting my name and shaking me. I couldn’t figure out why he was waking me up from the best sleep I had had probably since conceiving Ellyson. As I came to, I realized I was lying on the floor in our tiny hall (basically a space for four doorways and a closet to converge), my whole body aching and shaking, and figured out I must have fainted. Ethan came out of his room and the only thing I knew was that the pajamas he was wearing were not the pajamas he had gone to bed in. The conversation went something like this:

 

“He’s wet his bed,” I told Ed.

 

“Melissa, are you okay? Are you hurt? What is wrong with you?” Ed still slightly shouting.

 

“I’m fine. I’m cold. I’m fine. You have to change his sheets. He wet his bed.”

 

“What?”

 

I finally convinced Ed I was fine on the floor and couldn’t move that moment anyhow, so he needed to go help Ethan change his sheets. I’m pretty sure Ed thought I was nuts, but since I was apparently alive, he did as he was told. When he came back, I was ready to be moved. But no further than the couch where I curled up and asked for two heavy fleece blankets. I was still sick to my stomach and chills wracked my body, but I wasn’t feverish. Trying to figure out what could be wrong, I finally settled on food poisoning. The soup only I had eaten for lunch must have been slightly off. And with my taste still not fully recovered from Covid, I simply hadn’t noticed. It was the only explanation I had.

 

Assured that I wasn’t going to die right that very moment, Ed went about his usual routine of getting ready for bed. I shivered away on the couch, rubbed my belly, and dozed a little. When he came out of the shower, he asked if I wanted another blanket. I told him I wanted to go to bed. He’s one of those people that radiates heat, and I needed to be warm. So after helping me to the bathroom, he helped me to bed.

 

I can’t say I slept well. Ellyson woke one more time and cried herself back to sleep. I tossed and turned, feeling sick and cold. I did doze off, though, and awoke again at 4:30. I knew I had to get to the bathroom, but I also knew there was no way I could do it alone. I lay there and went through all my options for nearly ten minutes before I finally just woke Ed up for help. Good thing, too. I made it two steps to the foot of the bed before I collapsed, the room spinning into darkness again. Then I promptly threw up everything I had in my stomach. And finally felt much better!

 

I tried to help, but poor Ed had to clean up the floor. I threw everything in the washer, took a shower, and we both went back to bed. I awoke the next morning feeling much better although weak, tired, and extremely sore. I hardly ate all day, and we did school on the couch. I don’t bruise easy, so all I had in the way of wounds is some scratches on my face. But I couldn’t touch the left side of my face, arm or leg. That whole side of my body felt bruised and battered, and did for days. I had headaches for the next week, mostly because my shoulders and collar bone hurt so much. Ed said the way he found me laying up against the bin the closet, twisted up in an odd way he was surprised I didn’t break my neck. The best he could determine, I must have hit the half-opened folding closet door in such a way, it must have hit the wall and allowed me to bounce into all the coats and slide down. I’m grateful for I could have hit any doorways or walls, not to mention simply landed on our fake-wood-laid-on-concrete-with-no-padding floors. Ed’s grateful I didn’t look like someone whose husband beats her up.

 

As for the car, we’re still waiting on the parts to fix that. I guess that could have been worse, too. All I know is, I feel like we’ve barely survived 2021. I would say here’s hoping 2022 is better, but as painful as grocery shopping is these days…yeah, not betting on that!

Visions of Christmas Past: Cookies

I have been making Christmas cookies since…well, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t make Christmas cookies. It seems that Christmas cookies are a Sturm thing. I don’t recall them being prevalent at Ogilvie get-togethers. Pie always seemed to be the thing. (Chess pie mostly…I never could figure out who liked chess pie!) But on the Sturm side, everyone made cookies! Grandma Sturm even shipped cookies in our box of Christmas gifts. You just had to be careful to select the pecan Sandies and not the anise Wedding Cake balls. I’m pretty sure we all made that mistake at some point!

 

Eventually Christmas cookie baking officially started the day after Thanksgiving with gingerbread cookies. This was always an elaborate bakeoff, ending in Grace’s “Walmart wreath”, a cookie stacked two inches tall with icing, and my assembly line style. Oh – and either Katey or Jenny had to spill half the silver balls all over the place. Over the rest of the month, out came dozens and dozens of Sandies, surprise cookies, Spritz, fudge, peanut butter balls, coconut balls, white almond bark pretzels and lemon snowflakes. I do mean dozens.For it’s hard to make only one batch when three people want to make Spritz. And while in New Hampshire we had our pastor’s kids over to dip pretzels, so we had to make what felt like hundreds (plus a really good mess). Good thing we hosted a Christmas party every year! Now with us all gone, some of those cookies have fallen by the wayside. However, because Sandies, pretzels, and Spritz are three my mom still makes, I don’t make them. Even though I really should make Spritz. Emry at least can probably work the cookie press now.

 

As a single woman, I still made Christmas cookies…and took them to work. I certainly didn’t need them at home! Our first Christmas I attempted one of Ed’s favorites: clothespin cookies. I haven’t made them again…they take too long! Then came Emry and I thought she should be introduced to things like gingerbread cookies. I think that lasted all of two Christmases before I gave up. I hate to decorate. And I hate helping my kids decorate even more.

 

But I lovegingerbread. So, a few years ago I found the solution: gingerbread crinkle cookies. They’re easy to make. The kids can roll them into balls and into the sugar. And, this year, they became Ethan’s favorite. We also make one other things I didn’t grow up with: Reese cup cookies. The kids love making those. I love thumbprint cookies, but I never got around to it this year. (But since I bought the jam, I’m thinking of making them at Valentine’s.) I also like to try one new one every year. This year I tried two: homemade Samoas and an almond cookie. They were okay. The Samoas were a huge hit at Bible study, but I’m not sure I’ll recycle them. 

 

I do know this, though: I need a bigger kitchen. As you can see, it’s a bit tight for four of us:

 

Emry, Ethan and Ellyson making Christmas cookies!

Vision of Christmas Past: Lights

I’m sure for Emry’s first Christmas I was more conscious of including her in a multitude of things. Of course I knew she would remember none of them. I also knew she couldn’t do very much at eight months of age. It doesn’t mean we didn’t try…and, naturally, took lots of pictures. Like this one: 

Emry and the Christmas lights – 2015

 

She loved the lights. If I recall correctly, she wandered over to them as I was making sure they worked and just started playing. Knowing her personality today, of course she did. They shimmered! Shimmery Emry.

 

Two years later, along came Ethan. He played with the lights a lot longer than Emry did, probably for an entirely different reason than they shimmered. Electricity. Power. I haven’t met a member of the male species that isn’t attracted by it.

Ethan and the Christmas lights – 2017

 

Last year we didn’t let Ellyson play with the Christmas lights. She was only six months old and had just started sitting up on her own. So this year we made sure when we brought out the lights we had her pause in her play for a photo op. It didn’t go at all like we thought it would. For unlike her siblings before her, she had no interest whatsoever in the Christmas lights. No amount of coaxing or over-acting fun on our part helped. This was as good as it got:

 

Ellyson and the Christmas lights - 2021

My Fifth Sister: Jenny

For some reason, Jenny’s birth is memorable to me. Maybe because it was around Christmas. I was eleven coming up to twelve and Katey was nine. Ever crafty, Katey was in the midst of creating more and more stuff as her abilities grew. Ever trying to be crafty and keep up with Katey, I also created…even though I had just discovered that writing stories was waymore interesting than paper, glitter, markers, and attempting to draw when I have no ability to do so. Every the good mother, mom tried to be supportive in our interests. She never did figure out the writing thing I became so passionate about, but crafts were easy enough. That year she had purchased us some kind of garland stuff we had never seen before or since. We got it in sparkly blue. Honestly, we never did figure out exactly how it was supposed to be used (Pinterest had yet to be invented…), but we did figure out it made great hair bows! And so that is how we spent the morning of Jenny’s birth, proudly making all our sisters sparkling blue hair bows to wear on our visit to the hospital. I think we even made Jenny one.

 

Maybe that’s why Jenny also grew up to be artistic. More likely it’s because she’s Katey’s twin nine years removed. Really. Reddish hair, pale complexion, Ogilvie nose. She even chose the exact some outfit combos from the hand-me-downs Katey had worn five or six years previously. (That was a little frightening. Today Jenny is a “fashionista”, so don’t tell her how awful a few of those combos were…) She would grow to love music, try a million creative things, and be very passionately loyal to her friends. All very similar to Katey.

 

Of course, Jenny is her own person. She’s the first one who would tell you that, too. She has her own interests, does things her own way, makes her own choices. In that way, I suppose she’s just another Sturm sister. She can sew beautifully. (I have nearly two bins full of sizes 3 and 4 dresses/outfits that are waiting for Ellyson to grow into.) She also thrives in her piano playing.  Now that she is thirty, she is taking up a new hobby: cake decorating. I’m sure she’ll excel at that, too.

 

For, yes, she is thirty. I don’t think she is overly excited about it. Abby had all kinds of ideas on how to celebrate, but settled with a rather calm night out with all the sisters. (Since she will turn 30 in less than two years, she had to be cautious about pay-back.) But I think she had a good celebration. And I hope she discovers that being 30 is pretty great. Way better than the 20s…and so much younger than the 40s…

 

Happy Birthday, Jenny!

Jenny - 1992

Visions of Christmas Past: The Train

The first Christmas we were married, I got Ed a Lionel train. I’ve always liked the idea of a train chugging around the Christmas tree.  Ed has fond memories of trains when he was very small and his parents were still married. His dad had several small trains set up in their basement. Not 100% sure of what I was looking for and certainly not having extra cash on hand to get into a hobby as expensive as trains, I did learn about gages and found the perfect locomotive to run around our tree each Christmas for a decent price: the Pennsylvania Flyer.

 

Ed is meticulous about this train. He takes better care of it each year as he takes it from the box, sets it up, and later safely packs it away again than he would ever take care of me. But he does like to share it with the kids. They just can’t touch it without first listening to a very serious speech about taking care of it followed by a promise they will not touch it unless he is playing with them. They are not yet at the age where they roll their eyes at all this, so they merely half listen to the speech as they anxiously wait to be handed the controls.

 

Emry was 8 months old her first Christmas, but she was sitting up and easily figured out how to turn the nob for movement and press the buttons for sounds. Usually careful with things, she never messed with it beyond what she was allowed. 

Emry driving the train: 2015.

 

Now Ethan was 10 months old his first Christmas and “careful” was not a word in his vocabulary. It took longer to teach him not to simply grab the train if he felt like it. On the other hand, he is of the male species. The train goes fast, makes noises, and has a remote: a win any way you look at it. He has always loved playing with the train.

 

Ethan driving the train: 2017.

 

Now comes Ellyson. A mere 6 months last year on her first Christmas, I don’t remember her showing any interest in the train then, but this year….she loves it! Of course, she’s game to try anything one of her siblings are doing. She’s also the one who shows the most expression: delight at things that make her happy and despair when something doesn’t go her way. We have a great video of her watching the train with Ed, Emry and Ethan; squealing and laughing with excitement. She, too, likes to send it zooming around the track!

Ellyson driving the train: 2021.

Visions of Christmas Past: Dresses

I think I have done a post on Christmas dresses once. Or maybe it was Easter dresses. In our family, both times of year were fun to pick out patterns and material. And many of the dresses were very memorable for one reason or another. The dresses I am blogging about now have been in the family for 29 years.’

 

My mom’s sister was married a couple of weeks before Christmas in 1992. So, she had a Christmas wedding. For her flower girls (two of my sisters and two of my cousins), she chose a green and red plaid. My mom wasn’t sure that was a very good choice until she saw the fabric sent to her so she could sew the dresses. It was perfect, and they did make very nice dresses.

 

Aunt Lynn’s wedding 1992: I am in the red dress, holding Jenny. From left to right is my cousin Rachel, cousin Harris, sister Katey, cousin Ashton, cousin Adam, sister Grace, cousin Tyler, brother Daniel, and sister Sally.

 

Twenty-nine years later, at least two of the dresses my sister’s had are in my possession. They went through my sisters, were passed over to Aunt Lynn’s little girl Sara Ann, and then came back to us. And since I am the only one with girls…well, we are now enjoying them!

 Emry, age 2, in one of the dresses.

 

Ellyson now in the smaller dress.

 

They are still beautiful Christmas dresses.

As the Parade Passes By

When I was a kid attending Homecoming and Christmas parades in Lewisburg, Tennessee; I wanted to grow up and become a cheerleader in high school. Then I could ride on the fire truck. Needless to say, that is one of my many childhood goals I did not fulfill.

 

The only opportunity I had to be in a parade was in New Hampshire with my softball team. But whatever parade that was, it fell when I had to be back in school. I was sorely disappointed, as you are so often as a kid.

 

I knew when I enrolled Emry in B-boppers last year that marching in the Christmas parade was something they did. But all things being Covid last year, I can’t remember if there even was a Christmas parade. (Heaven forbid we should all somehow give Santa Covid!) I was okay with that. Less commitment in what had been a wild year with government induced panic and Ellyson’s birth. This year, though, the Christmas parade was on! And Emry was quite psyched about marching in it.

 

First she had a routine to learn. Like all routines, her dance instructor records it and posts it so I can download it to my laptop and Emry can practice. The first night I had her practice the parade routine, she wasn’t sure she could unless I marched (backwards) in front of her with the laptop in hand. I convinced her to at least try it by starting in the kitchen doorway and dancing towards the hall doorway. She always has the laptop in my swivel chair, so I would turn it as she marched. This worked, and she took on turning it herself as she danced past.  

 

The day of the parade was not as bitterly cold as I had thought it might be, thankfully. Dressed in layers (her team jacket is not that thick!), she was ready to go and we managed to get her to her post without totaling getting turned around. Now the rest of us getting back downtown to park…well, that was not quite as easy to accomplish. Still, we managed and found my parents and nephew to settle in and watch. 

 

It was a really good parade, and having it at night so everything is lit up makes sense. Ethan enjoyed it (and, of course, the candy). Ellyson wanted to join in. She danced to the music and tried to walk out into the parade more than once. Emry was near the end, so we had to wait quite a while before her dance troupe made their way to us. We shouted her name and she did hear us but as is typical of Emry, she was very focused on her routine and getting it right.

 

After she marched past, I made my way to the end of the parade to get her. She had fun, although (because she is six), she kept asking about candy. We made it back to the route in time to see the Purdue marching band and Santa, neither of which was handing out candy. But parades being parades, we found quite a few pieces of candy on our way back to our car. Content with that, she had a great time. And I think she’s ready to do it again next year!

Studio B - Emry is the one on the left front in pink boots.

 

Ethan watching the parade.

 

Ellyson had one of the best seats in the house…except she wanted to be in the parade!

Five Minutes of Thanks

Time for my yearly moment of seeing how many things I can say I’m thankful for in five minutes. Honestly, I feel like this post gets shorter every year. I promise it’s not because I’m any less thankful…it’s simply harder for me to pause and think about something that doesn’t have to deal with work, the kids, the house, and my endless list of endless things that need to get done!

 

My Savior. His sovereignty, mercy, and strength on a daily basis. Taste! Since I barely have any of it (yes, it looks like I’ve had Covid!), I realize how important it is. Good food. Coffee, especially. My husband. My three energized kids: Emry, Ethan and Elly. My brothers and sisters. Time in New England this summer. Our little home. The hope of a nicer, larger home with more space (and a second bathroom!). Color. Curiousity. Funny little things Ellyson does. Sleep! (Especially as I lack it thanks to Ellyson.) Good friends. My job and co-workers. Our church family. Love, faith, mercy, grace. Blue skies, tall trees, time outside. Exercise. Truth. How important that is in a world that just lives in the midst of lies and lying. Justice. Holiness. Books! And books! And some time to read them. Puzzles, games, time with my kids. The creativity of the world God has created. The Bible. Warmth. Snow. Fall colors. Allyson. My parents.

Roller Skating

Growing up, roller skating rinks were all the rage. They went along very well with the disco scene, neon clothes, poofy hair, and rock music of the 1980s. I can remember several friends having birthday parties at roller skating rinks. I also owned at least two pairs of skates in my childhood. I skated well enough. No fancy tricks, but I didn’t fall down either.

 

As a teenager, our church would go to “Christian” skate night every other month or so. That was fun – a time to skate with people you knew. But we moved away from that church when I was 14. I don’t recall putting on a pair of skates again until I was 26 year old.

 

Honestly, having skate night during staff week at Camp Ridgecrest was probably a thing for two reasons: 1) tradition, which camps are all about, and 2) those making the decisions were my age and it was nostalgic. Certainly the college kids I worked alongside didn’t remember disco balls, neon clothes, or rolling up your baggy jeans. For while most of them had been born in the 1980s, they were too young to remember that decade. A trip to the skating rink as they grew up in the 1990s would have been rare. A few of them had never been on skates. And while it’s like riding a bike, I have to say I don’t remember an hour of skating hurting quite so much afterwards!

 

So, I nostalgically skated again the summers I was 26 and 27, but I have not put on a pair of skates since. This past summer Emry took on a sudden interest when a friend of the girl next door would be over, skates always in hand. Emry and I negotiated a deal on purchasing her a pair of skates and then the girl next door got a pair as well. Their styles are very different. Ava takes on skating all limbs flying and lots of landing on her backside. Emry takes on skates with a heavy dose of cautiousness and the desire to not fall at all. It’s taken her a while to get decent at skating, but at least I don’t have to worry about lots of holes in her pants from tumbles.

 

With skating being “the thing”, Ava had her 6^thbirthday this weekend at the local skating rink. I have not been to a skating rink in 14 years, but I’d have to say they are now more like the ones I remember in the 1980s than the one I went to in 2007. Neon lights, disco balls, and even some of the clothing has returned with full vengeance. Almost like a bad dream on constant replay.

 

Emry loved the skating rink. She loved how smooth the floor was compared the neighborhood sidewalk. She took to it easily and enjoyed her time there. His first time on skates, Ethan was less excited although quite willing to try until he discovered how slippery the rink is. Now they have “bumpers” kids can skate with, PVC pipe things on coaster wheels a kid can push along as they skate. He tried that and was okay, but once he discovered the arcade games….well, he didn’t do a whole lot of skating. As for me, I didn’t put on any skates. Had I been feeling more myself instead of coming off some flulike bug, perhaps I would have. I’ve always enjoyed skating. But the rink itself? Neon lights and rocky music was probably great as a kid, if I even noticed. Now? Well, let’s just say my kids won’t be having birthday parties at a skating rink!

Ethan trying skates out.

 

Emry zooming around.

Nature Hikes!

When I was a kid, I remember only one homeschool field trip that was a nature hike. And since homeschool field trips in that day and age were very well planned, it probably had some point like leaf observation, or birds, or trees or all of the above. I honestly can’t recall. The only thing I remember was it ended in playing kickball in a field and thinking that I could finally tell my teasing dad that we really went to a field on a field trip. 

 

To be honest, taking eight kids on some walk along a trail was probably way more work that my mom had time for. It was enough work taking three this last week! So, I don’t at all begrudge our lack of nature hikes. For one, I wouldn’t have cared. Nature? Outside? A walk? Why couldn’t I just stay home, hole myself up in my bedroom, and write? That would have been my general reaction to the mere suggestion of a nature hike had Mom brought it up. 

 

But I’m all about it now. Sort of. I’m all about being outside, getting my kids out of the house and running around with friends. The nature part I could still give and take on. Like me, I imagine my kids will know the difference between a deciduous tree and a coniferous. But that’s probably as far as it will go. I do try to tell them the names of the handful of trees I know, the few flowers I can list, and the gist of gardening. It’s just really hard to teach something you have absolutely no interest in. I could talk about the Statue of Liberty, the Founding Fathers, and even how to properly diagram a sentence all day long. To go out, gather some leaves, and try to identify them…there’s an app for that, right?

Knowing that about myself, a friend at church inviting us to a nature group she’s involved in was very exciting. My kids can learn something I know nothing about and someone else can teach them since I really have no interest in learning it myself! (Don’t tell my kids that.) Leaves, trees, and bushes aside; they also had a blast wandering about the woods with both new friends and old. Emry complained when we had to turn back (after already hiking 2.5 miles) and wanted to just continue all day! And it was a unusually lovely November day to be out, sunny and not very cold.  Best of all, we came out with all eleven kids and not one of them fell into the brook!

Movie Night

 Like most kids, my kids enjoy watching movies. And like most kids their age, that usually means something animated. Today, there is probably a hundred times more animated movies than I was a kid and they’ve seen a lot of them. This summer I decided we’d have an actual “movie night” on Fridays, an evening dedicated to watching the movies I watched as a kid: Swiss Family Robinson, Pollyanna and Old Yeller.(Okay, I haven’t shown them Old Yeller yet. That can be a really hard movie to watch…) We’ve continued the practice, although now Ellyson usually stays up as well instead of heading to bed early. It usually looks something like this:

More and more, Ellyson has to be right in the middle of everything Emry and Ethan do. It can be blocks, drawing, Legos, school, movie night, or even playing on the Wii. She is not about to be left out, and she is not shy about pushing her way in as needed. Just like another baby sister I know…

 

But this picture reminded me of another picture from long ago:

 

Emry and Ellyson (2021)

 

Melissa and Katey (1982)

Emry: WOW Student of the Week

By the time dance came to an end last year, Emry seemed to have lost some interest, curious more about gymnastics than furthering her dancing skills. That was fine with me as I want her to try many things and signed her up for “Acro” at her dance studio. Basically a tumbling class and only a time commitment of four weeks, she would at least learn the basics of gymnastics so she could decide if she liked it. Unlike me at her age, she doesn’t constantly turn cartwheels, walk across anything that resembles a balance beam, or flip over any set of bars within reach. So, I wanted to be sure she really wanted to switch before I figured out the cost and commitment of that. And while she enjoyed Acro, on the other side of it when I asked if she wanted to be on the B-bopper team again, she said yes and didn’t ask about Acro or gymnastics.  So, I signed her up.

 

I really like the B-bopper team because 1) I really love Miss Kelsey her teacher, and 2) it improves her skills for a whole year instead of two sessions and focuses on lots of practice, tons of improvement, and works towards a goal of competition. I wasn’t completely sure how she would do as the weeks went on, though. Much to my surprise, she’s thrived. I’m not a dance professional (I can only remember my first three positions), but even I have seen improvements. She loves the songs Miss Kelsey chose for both Winter Showcase and competition, and she’s excited about going each week. The other week I overhead two other moms talking about their daughters griping about practicing throughout the week and it dawned on me that Emry doesn’t complain about her daily practice. She might ask me if she can’t just do it later, but she doesn’t gripe. Practice has simply become a part of what dancing is all about.

 

This week, Emry was nominated as one of the three WOW students of the week:

 

W – Works Hard

O – Outstanding Attitude

W – Willing to Help Others

 

I’m very proud of our little dancer.

Fall Celebration!

Since I was nine years old, instead of trick-or-treating, my family would have a fall celebration. It included ordering pizza, dressing up, making and hitting piñatas, and other games involving candy. Since last year, the tradition now continues with my kids. I have to say I am grateful Grandma takes them to make the piñatas (okay, paint them)…I never did like that part.

 

This year Aunt Jenny also incorporated a cake walk. My sister Jenny has adored cake walks ever since she first heard of them when she was probably about Emry’s age. She made cupcakes, drew a huge circle with numbers in my parents driveway, brought out music…and the cake walk began!

 

I think my kids were as excited about that as they were the piñatas, even though they weren’t sure what a cake walk was. But it meant cupcakes in a box they had decorated, so whatever else they imagined it had to be great. And they all had great fun dancing around the circle to the music, even Ellyson for a short time. We won’t tell them the walk may have been rigged. I mean, it was a little suspicious that everyone went home with six cupcakes in their box…

 

Enjoying the cake walk!

 

This year even Ellyson got a piñata. She enjoyed giving it a couple of whacks with the bat before she got tired and Papa finished for her. She was very happy with her fruit snacks and lollipops. Especially the lollipops.

 

Ellyson with her piñata.

 

Emry the prairie girl, Ethan the storm trooper, and Ellyson the skeleton.

What to do When I'm not Working

I’m a bit of a workaholic. The person who brings her work laptop on vacation. The one who wished she had brought it to the hospital when she had her youngest (especially as we couldn’t leave our room for 48 hours!). Or brought it to her father-in-law’s funeral last year to find a bit of sanity in the insanity of those several days. So, when given a forced “vacation” this week…well, I’m rather at a loss on what I’m supposed to do with all my spare time.

 

On Friday, I only worked an hour. I’ve been putting extra hours in earlier in the week so on Friday I can catch up with other stuff. Rather amazingly, I didn’t touch it Saturday. But I opened it Sunday evening to do my weekly Sunday night task and…had no internet connection. In fact, my wireless card wasn’t reading any wifi in the neighborhood (and probably every house has it as I usually see at least a dozen networks). I tried all the basic troubleshooting. And then I stated searching my phone for the more complicated troubleshooting. When absolutely nothing worked, I emailed our IT guy and used my personal laptop to complete my weekly task.

 

On Monday, I spent 2 ½ hours troubleshooting between our in-house IT guru, my own research and a long phone call with our contracted IT people. It wasn’t easy since we only have wireless in the house so I couldn’t get online in another way to allow them access to my laptop. But in the end, even the IT guy concluded: the wireless card was damaged. I could do nothing until it was fixed.

 

Tuesday led to the immediate fix: order an external wireless card. But as that was still going to take two days to arrive at my house, I was left with hours on my hands to fill with…I wasn’t even sure where to start. I had one work task I could accomplish with my personal laptop online, stuff on my work laptop desktop, and a zip drive. A half hour of frustration on a task that would normally take me ten minutes. Same thing today as I continue to wait and hope the wireless card gets here early tomorrow versus late. Meanwhile…

 

It’s strange. I have lots of projects sitting around waiting to get done (blogs to post, various things to fix, documents to print, Christmas things to prepare, etc.), but I wasn’t sure which ones to conquer first. And aside from finally posting blogs, most of them aren’t getting done any faster than I usually get them done between my work hours. I’ve adjusted so well to working hours in a day and conquering tasks in between those hours that having endless hours in which to do them seems to lesson my efficiency. And I still can’t shake the feeling that I really don’t know what to do with myself if I’m not filling every waking moment with something pressing.

 

Basically: I don’t know how to rest and relax very well.

 

Ed keeps saying I’ve earned a few days off. I should sit down or something. Maybe tomorrow I will. I’ve been wanting to call Allyson for weeks but haven’t had time. And now , it seems, I have all the time in the world!

Carving Pumpkins

Last year when we carved pumpkins, Emry and Ethan drew me step-by-step directions. This year I guess we have advanced in our skills since we didn’t need directions. We pretty much just jumped into it!

 

Ethan and Emry both did a very good job cleaning out their own pumpkins once I cut the top off. Our little neighbor girl Ava came over to help, too. And once she was up from her morning “nap”, Ellyson wanted to be right in the middle of it all, too.  She was right in the middle of the pumpkins I cleaned out to use for breads, pies, and other things. 

 

Except for Emry, they then each drew the faces they wanted on their pumpkins. I did the carving, which is never very easy. But they all turned out well, and the kids were very happy!

 

                                                        Emry and Ava working on their pumpkins.

 

Ethan cleaning out his pumpkin.

 

Ellyson helping everyone!

 

The end results!

Homeschooling Magazines

Are there homeschool magazines anymore? I’m assuming there probably are. If I wanted to receive such a thing, I would certainly rather have it in paper form than on my phone or something. Today, though, it seems like there are enough homeschooling moms out there with blogs on homeschooling advice that homeschooling magazines wouldn’t make a lot of money.

 

I remember homeschool magazines. We received one or two as I was growing up. I remember flipping through them, reading some of the articles. Not because I needed advice on how to homeschool my kids but because I read anything that had words on it.  I don’t remember anything particular about their content, but I do remember their covers. Perfect little homeschool families, some with only a few kids and others with a baseball team of them. All well dressed, all in perfectly clean houses, and all sitting at tables or desks working hard on their assignments or helping their moms in the kitchen. And I remember wondering how those moms kept such clean homes with kids who happily sat down to work on their math and rejoiced in helping in the kitchen. The epitome of homeschooling. And one my family never reached.

 

To be honest, I preferred my own home. The one that wasn’t always clean, even though mom had rules about keeping things cleaned. The one where we didn’t always work on our assignments without complaining and grumbling at our lot in life or the amount of sentences we had to diagram. The home where we did try to get out of chores, and we did whine when something seemed unfair about what we got compared to what X sibling got. It’s true my parents had high standards on our behavior. And it’s true my dad could come down hard on us for crossed lines. But at least, in the end, they didn’t expect us to be perfect. At least not all the time.

 

As I entered high school, we started a curriculum that put us in the midst of those homeschooling magazine families. At least, that’s what you had to make your family sound like. When you talked with your peers, you didn’t mention that sometimes you read a “romance” novel, or you didn’t get up at five in the morning to read your Bible, or you played basketball in shorts.You didn’t mention the reality of your family – only the part you would want printed in a magazine if you achieved such a status. It was awful. No one was really your friend. No one was real. And, in the end, no one cared unless your “perfect” family matched up to their “perfect” family. No wonder twenty years later so many of our families have ended up just about as imperfect as you can imagine.

 

So, as I have started on my own homeschooling journey, I have kept the perfectionism part as far away as I can. Our house is not perfectly neat. Emry and Ethan do gripe and complain about completing their assignments. And I do have to nag them about chores. Nor are they so far advanced in their educational endeavors that Ivy League colleges are already knocking on our door. Emry struggles with reading. Ethan struggles with a pair of scissors and writing many of his letters. And Ellyson wanders in and out of the school room either making a mess of all sorts of things or wanting to be right in the middle of it all. Some days I want to pull the hair out of my head and figure if I can just send them out into the world knowing how to read and do basic math before I die of frustration, I have conquered the mountain. 

 

Thankfully, the other homeschool moms I’m friends with have the same struggles. Well, not necessarily the same, but we do all have messy houses full of griping kids who frustrate us when, at times, they can’t seem to understand the very basics of word pronunciations. However, the other day as I stood in Emry’s room where Emry and Ethan work on their assignments every morning, I couldn’t help snapping this very rarephoto. In fact, I don’t think our makeshift school room as ever looked like this…or will ever look like this again. And since it lasted all of thirty second before Ellyson was off to pull Emry’s dolls out of the bucket, Emry was off to join her, and Ethan was left to complain about his math…the fact that I had that moment to snap this photo is pretty impressive:

 

 

As one friend said: “That should be on the cover of a homeschooling magazine!”

The Little Man in the Middle

A year ago, Ethan was still in adjustment mode. Ellyson’s birth rocked his world, as I knew it would. He doesn’t know life without Emry, so an older sibling is just life. But a baby sister? One who requires a lot of Mama’s attention? Or gets a lot of attention just because she’s a cut baby? Some moments of acting out were perfectly expected.

 

Now? He’s found his groove. His niche. His safe spot. The other night as I put all three of them in the bathtub (not something that normally happens, but he’s been sick and I was trying to get them all to soak in warm water with essential oils, etc.), I was putting Ellyson in last and he pipes up, “No, Mama! On this side! I’m in the middle. I’m the middle-est!”

 

Now, it seems, he doesn’t remember life without Ellyson.

 

We have three strollers: the jogging stroller we purchased before Emry was born, an umbrella stroller for ease, and a double jogging stroller bought when I was pregnant with Ethan. It hasn’t seen as many miles as the jogging stroller since I was out nearly every day running with Emry as an infant, but it was a much bigger hassle and not easy maneuvering with both Ethan and Emry. And since they are now more-or-less too big for a stroller, I just use the jogging one for Ellyson. But he was having  4-year-old moment when he didn’t want to walk so I pulled out the double-stroller so he could ride with Ellyson for our little walk. 

 

“Which seat do you want, Ethan?” I asked.

 

He stood there for a moment and then said, “Mmh…which was is the middle-est?”

 

I did not have an answer which seat of two is the “middle-est” and I’m not sure how he decided, but he climbed in and off we went. 

 

One day, I’m sure, he’ll once again complain about being the middle child. For now, though, he’s quite happy in his little spot between two sisters.

 

The little man keeps getting bigger. Like Emry, math has come easy for him. He loves flash cards, especially the 2’s. Since his letter sounds were elusive when we started Kindergarten, I didn’t have high expectations of his putting words together until at last Christmas. However, he’s sounding out words and even telling me things like, “That ‘e’ is silent!” Penmanship is sometimes creative in the forming of some letters, but we’re working on that! 

 

He’s also delighted that he is now in Cubbies on Wednesday evenings. Covid postponed his introduction into that class, so he’s really happy he can now go. We get in the car Wednesday nights, and he’s talking a mile a minute with everything he got to do. He always has the same question: “Mama, is Cubbie real?”

 

His newest love? The Wii. A few months ago I pulled my old Wii out of a box in the garage and set it up. With the nice weather, they hadn’t played on it too much. Now it’s rainy quite a bit…and I need to purchase a timer. If I let him, he’d spend all day sword fighting, playing tennis, and flying airplanes!

Oh, the Places I have Lived! - Part 13

And – finally – we come to my current place of residence. I know I wrote a blog nearly three years ago when we moved into our little rental house of the quirky little things in it. Like no normal light bulbs. I feel like every time one goes out, we have to go to Home Depot and buy some special bulb. There’s a price to pay for being “retro”. One I wouldn’t pay if I didn’t have to have lights in my kitchen to cook by.

 

I was right about the “retro” wall behind our bed. It’s tiled with a frame around it – a great cobweb collector. Very festive this time of year.

 

I think the house is built on ant farms. And they have Ethan’s number. As soon as he drops a crumb, they come running. They’re also happy Ellyson has joined us. She likes to drop crumbs, too. I’ve figured out how to keep them out momentarily from time to time, but there is no way to eradicate them. I guess they help me keep my floors clean.

 

All in all, we’re happy with our little three-bedroom place. Larger rooms would be nice, especially ones with more natural light. But, we’re creative in how we make the space work. The one major thing we would change is adding a bathroom – at least a half one. That would make a ton of difference. I can’t help hoping against hope we could find a house of our own before Ellyson is potty training and adds to the bathroom congestion, especially in light of how much time a potty-training toddler sometimes has to spend in the bathroom! 

 

We’re very grateful for our little rental place, even as we dream of something larger we can truly call our own.