When in Rome (part 2)

Our first full day in Rome was not a take-it-easy sort of day. More of a jump-in-with-both-feet day!

Renee knew so much more about all this Rome stuff, having spent a semester in Rome during college, so I let her lead the way on planning (read: do it all). She started a google spreadsheet months ago to track our plans, so my heart was full - nothing give me the warm fuzzies like a good spreadsheet.

Tuesday's priority was St. Peter. And St. Peter's. But first, St. Peter himself, via the Scavi Tour. For those of you who don't know (like I didn't, till Renee told me about it), there are tours of the archaeological sights under St. Peter's Basilica available to adults, which include an opportunity to view the remains of the saint himself. Since you must be 15 to go on the tour, none of the kids qualified, so Renee scheduled us to go as couples, on separate tours, handing off the kids in between. (I asked the tour guide about the age restriction. He spouted something about the air not being healthy for children, and noted that guides were only allowed to lead two tours per day because of it. A different tour guide later in the week said that really it's just because Italian kids are so naughty.)

No photos were allowed on the tour, but it was really interesting and well worth the time and expense. As with most of the tours we went on and churches we visited, I really can't do justice to the subjects. You can get better info by googling the topic, and probably better images as well. But I can say that it was all incredibly impressive and educational and moving. Also, it was cool to watch the Swiss Guard up close while we waited for our tour time, telling people what to do and where not to go, all with such flair in those uniforms. And it would have been really cool, how the tour dropped us off inside the security at St. Peter's, except we had to exit to go meet up with our family outside of security, where they were midway through the picnic we'd helped pack before we left.

Oh, flash back on that a minute. We'd had some vision initially of all of us heading to St. Peter's together, all the grown ups and kids, at which point Nathaniel and I would branch off for our tour. However, that first morning (and every morning after) we remembered that none of us are particularly good at mornings or at being on time. So, as the time Nathaniel and I had to leave to make our tour approached, we - as a group - were nowhere near ready to leave. Instead, I made sure our crew was dressed and mostly ready, packed our lunch, instructed our kids to be really good helpers for Aunt Renee and Uncle Phil, and then Nathaniel and I headed out on the walk on our own. I felt all sorts of guilty about making Phil and Renee shepherd all nine kids to the Vatican that first time, especially as Nathaniel and I walked along the roads with no sidewalks and blind curves and I continually pestered Nathaniel to message Phil and about what they should be careful about. I'm not a paranoid sort of mom, but I have real issues putting my work on to someone else, and I consider my kids my work, you know? It's a legit issue of mine that I recognize I need to work on - letting other people help me. But that's not the topic of the day. Turns out they walked a slightly different way that had slightly safer sidewalks and they all made it to the square alive and well. Nothing to worry about!

When we found them post-tour, they were settled on some steps, eating salami and brie and crusty bread and really, does life get any better than that?! That is really just my happy place. Okay, maybe 20% lower humidity than Rome was offering us would have been my even happier place, but it was pretty fab.

Phil and Renee left to go on their scheduled tour, and we took over kid management. It was an hour or so of chasing pigeons, waving away souvenir sales guys, watching the same guys get chased off by the police, taking kids to the restrooms, and soaking up watching the cousins reconnect. It was lovely. We did lose Oliver one time, very briefly, but we found him again quickly. All's well that ends well and all that.

*****

The second item on the day's itinerary was a tour of St. Peter's Basilica by a North American College seminarian. Apparently they do this all the time, and you can just show up for it! We took all the kids to start the tour (along with 20 or so other English speakers), and Phil and Renee tracked us down and joined in when they finished their Scavi tour.

If you've never been to St. Peter's Basilica... there really are not words to describe the experience. Rome is filled with churches of unspeakable beauty, churches heavy with history, churches that literally take your breath away when your eyes adjust from the sunlight outside and first allow you to take in the grandeur within. (Heavy handed, I know, and I haven't even touched on the spiritual side of the experience.) St. Peter's in the epitome of all that. It's beyond my skill to describe, but I hope every Catholic has a chance to walk there one day.

Our seminarian gave an excellent tour. They have a system that's new since I was last there 20+ years ago - the tour guides have mics and everyone on the tour gets an earpiece, so the guides can speak quietly but reach their whole group. The overall volume in the Basilica was much lower than I remember, which was wonderful for a place where you can hope for prayer, even amid the chaos of tourism. It was an excellent visit. We hardly scratched the surface of all the beauty there was to see, and history there was to learn, but we basked in it all and gave our children a taste of it, and I'm grateful for that opportunity.

*****

After all that, we hit the streets near the Vatican for our first (of many) gelato stops. I don't know if it was because it was my first gelato, or if it really was an excellent little shop, but I had coconut gelato (inexplicably... I still can't figure out what prompted me to choose coconut, it's not like me at all) and it was heavenly! Maybe I was just really hot and hungry. It was so good that I was inspired to try coconut a couple other times, from other shops, and none of them lived up to that first taste.

We also did some gift shopping. I hadn't given much thought in advance to what we might purchase while there, but Renee pointed out that anything we bought RIGHT THEN, we'd have with us for the papal audience the next morning, and could have blessed by the pope.

Cue frantic shopping spree!

Kidding... mostly. We realized later in the week that we should actually have bought more, to have extras, as we kept thinking of people we wished we'd gotten rosaries for. Oops. Sorry everyone we didn't buy things for. We're not really souvenir people, though, so it's hard for us to think that way.

*****

We wrapped up this first, epic day with dinner with Fr. Rolling, a priest from Lincoln who is studying in Rome and who helped advise us as we prepared for our trip. None of us knew him previously, so it was nice to put a face to the email conversations. We had a little time to kill near the restaurant while waiting for him, so Nathaniel and Phil popped into a church across the street. It turned out to house the incorrupt body of St Philip Neri. Rome is crazy, man! You never know what you're going to find when you duck into a church!

Fr. Rolling had selected a restaurant with a lovely outdoor area, and room for the kids to run in an adjacent park, except it turned out most of the park was fenced off for renovation. It's the thought that counts. And the kids made good use of the narrow band of available park when they needed to run off energy, while we adults spent four hours enjoying an excellent Italian dinner. Father knew all the seasonal specials to recommend, including stuffed zucchini blossoms and fresh melon with prosciutto. Happy, happy, happy! Most of my kids were pleasantly adventurous, except Rachel, who kicked off her tour of Rome's best buttered noodles (or "white pasta", as they politely call it, to make it sound classier).

Dinner was divine, and ended with a complimentary round of limoncello, which was probably very unnecessary given the number of bottles of wine we'd worked through... but it was a fun treat anyway. Renee and I were both on the loud and laughing end of the spectrum by the end, which made figuring out the Rome bus system to get ourselves home HILARIOUS. It turns out Marianne is officially old enough to notice and disapprove when her parents are a few glasses in, but we were still totally functional. Sheesh. (Sidenote: We let Marianne and William have a small glass of wine each with dinner. So grown up!)

We found the kiosk to purchase our bus tickets where Father has pointed us, and our bus came fairly soon after. Getting on board the bus and validating our tickets turned out to be more challenging. Somehow, while a couple of us were struggling to feed our tickets into the little on-board machine, the bus door closed on Phil and he had to bang on it and pry it open... I don't know if it was mechanical failure or the bus driver not enjoying our humor, but it had us laughing even louder.

We made it home safely - after the kids spotted the first of MANY geckos on the walk - and called it a very good, very successful day. Phew. I'm exhausted again just thinking of it. But there was no real rest for the weary, because the next day was the Wednesday papal audience, which meant an early morning! To be continued...

Grona Lund (or, The Story of Courage Lost)

Do you guys love roller coasters?! Me, too! Or... well... I did. In a past life. My own past life, when I was in my teens and 20s. These days, I would rather not. Since we don't do a lot of amusement parks (we leave that to my parents, when the kids stay with them in the summer), it's seldom an issue. But today really drove the point home.

We spent the day at Grona Lund, courtesy of Grammy and Papa, who know their grandbabies LOVE a good thrill ride. It was wonderful, and I enjoyed nearly every minute of it, despite avoiding most of the thrills. Thankfully, Nathaniel is still out-adventuring them all. He and Ruth went on all the craziest rides. Meg would have been right there with them, if only she was a few centimeters taller!

Instagram cuts my writing too short, so hopefully you've already seen those pics, and I'm going to expound upon what I wrote there, and toss in a few extra things, but in bullet points because it's the fastest way to get the job done.

~ Grona Lund was awesome. Better than I'd imagined. I've spent my fair share of time in amusement parks, so my expectations for this little park on an island weren't super high, but it was fabulous! That said, the pricing is rough! It's not much to get IN to the park, but then you have to buy ride tickets or an armband, and those don't come cheap. Since this was a Christmas gift, we opted for the armbands and definitely got our money's worth. I can't imagine bringing kids without one, because they'd want to ride all the things, but you'd be constantly weighing whether that rides was worth the $3-10 (per person, per ride!). There was a "fun house" that the kids LOVED, and some of them went through it half a dozen times while we were there, but it definitely wouldn't have been worth $3 a go.

~ My five year old is braver than me. It's the honest truth. That girl wanted to do EVERYTHING. At one point, she and Meg basically dragged Peter and me to a roller coaster similar to the Patriot at Worlds of Fun (my best point of reference that many of you may be familiar with). It was the kind on which your legs dangle from the seat. It's smaller, though, and no upside down loops. I couldn't believe Rachel, at her 114cm, was even allowed on it, but she was. And she LOVED it. *I* was screaming (and laughing, which is my other scared/nervous auto-response) and she was just grinning and loving every minute of it! As soon as we were off, she wanted to get back in line.

~ My seven year old is... not. Braver than me. Poor Peter. He just doesn't love it. He WANTS to love it, but on every ride he's squinching his eyes shut and just manning up till it's over. We were on the Octopus together, and he had his eyes closed, taking deep breaths. I asked if he felt okay (heaven knows I don't want him getting sick!) and he said, "I feel okay. I'm just saying a little prayer..." Classic. He and I can hang out together while the girls go on the crazy rides with their dad. That said, he did like the dangly-foot roller coaster and went on it three times before the day was done, so he's ready for the Patriot, Dad! Maybe not the front row, but somewhere in the middle.

~ Pettson and Findus are dearly loved Swedish story book characters. We've read a few, and sent a couple to nephews for birthdays. I'm really loved the play area in their honor. We thought, at first, that it was just a little park and I was sort of put out that they'd charge a ticket for a playground. Then we saw that there was a whole house full of fun. Kids can open all the kitchen cupboards and find little scenes of bugs making homes, and mice cooking in the chimney. There are touch screen games hidden in the potato bin and the book on the coffee table. Dress up clothes, and tiny doors that let you into other rooms... a wall with a million random items attached to it, each that makes funny noises. A kid could have fun in there for an hour, at least! So cool.

~ I blame becoming a mother for my loss of bravery. That fits about right in the timeline - first kid at 26, slow decline of thrill-seeking from that point on. The point really was driven home on the swings that I showed on instagram. Not the super high tower swings - just the normal sort of carnival swings, that swept out over the beautiful water around Grona Lund. I took Meg, Peter, and Rachel on the ride. They were all seated in front of me, my swing just behind Rachel's. We had a bar across our laps with a strap that went between the legs. From the minute the swings took off, I couldn't take my eyes off Rachel. I couldn't stop picturing her falling out of the swing! I was literally talking myself out of a panic for nearly the whole ride - "Kids go on this ride all day, every day, and they're all fine. She can't fall out. She's fine. She's got her hands in the air and is laughing with glee, so clearly SHE doesn't feel afraid! Calm down. Breathe!" What is WRONG with me?! It was a swing. It was Rachel's FAVORITE thing of the day. But when they wanted to go back a second time, I told them they had to wait for Nathaniel to take them. I'm all Cougar from Top Gun over here; I've lost my edge.

~ I should give some thought to sunscreen now that it's spring. We were outside off and on all day in Finland, and now all afternoon at Grona Lund, and I haven't considered sunscreening my kids at all. It's not till we're home and I'm feeling that tight, warm feeling on my own cheeks that I realize I've been lax. I'm not sure whether the sun will burn as quickly here (or more quickly? surely not), but I probably can't ignore the risk altogether.

The kids head back to school tomorrow but have another long weekend coming up in just over a week. In the meantime, Liz and Whit will be here visiting, so we're not really slowing down. You can likely feel the sense of urgency creeping into our activities as our weeks here in Stockholm wind down. Seven weeks from tomorrow, we board our plane home! We are so excited to get home, but trying to make the most of our remaining time here! I think we're doing pretty well.

Småsaker

Roughly translating to "odds and ends", or, Nathaniel informs me, literally translating to "small things", which works as well.

*****

Most of you saw my i/g post the other day about how much I appreciate stragglers, for making me feel less late. You guys, we get later for school every day! I hassle and prod and cajole and rush these kids all morning to get them out the door. Some days half the kids are ready 20 minutes early and sitting with a cup of a tea and a book. BUT STILL! By the time we actually get coats and boots on and make it down the four flights of stairs and out the door... we're late. And later. It's getting ridiculous.

On the up side, they're just missing the start of class here, as opposed to at home where they'd be missing the start of mass, which makes me feel extra guilty. But that's another thing! We don't even have to worry about fasting for mass, and we're still failing. Hmph.

I realize there's an easy answer. I could just wake everyone up earlier. I'm not an idiot - it's pretty basic math. Start sooner and we should, theoretically, leave sooner, and therefore arrive sooner. Two problems with that: First, I love my last 10 minutes of sleep. Love it. The thought of giving it up pains me. Second, that note above about how some days they're ready on time and we're still late... I'm not sure getting up any earlier will solve this. There's something about the final few minutes of getting out the door that we are just horrible at. I should probably try it, though. The getting up early. Maybe I'll make it one of my Lenten penances (that I get to inflict on the whole family).

For now, I just watch that one mom cross paths with me progressively further from school. I used to see her in the school. Then just outside. Then on the stair by the school... Today, she was two full blocks from school getting ready to board her bus when we walked by. I smiled and said good morning sheepishly. Thank heavens there were still a few stragglers coming in even later than us!

*****

We are up to eight and a half hours of daylight per day and it feels pretty amazing! The sun doesn't set till nearly 4:30, which seems so incredibly normal after the bizarro 2 o'clock hour settings a few weeks ago. We've gotten multiple little dustings of snow over the past couple weeks - enough to keep the ground and buildings lightly coated and pretty. Nathaniel was able to take the kids sledding tonight, though the hill was packed and iced and therefore dangerously fast. Winter is trekking along, and we're mostly enjoying it. There's comfort in knowing that our temps are often higher than those in Lincoln, even if that's only because of record lows in Lincoln.

A Swedish news program Nathaniel listens to to practice his language skills noted that earlier this week Sweden experience what they call a "National Ice Day", meaning the entire country was below freezing for a full 24 hours. Apparently that hasn't happened in a couple of years, so was notable. So don't think we've got it totally easy over here. It's cold. And we haven't had the upswings to 50F to thaw us out - it just sits right here around freezing day after day. Peter is so sick of me making him wear long johns under his jeans to school, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do (when her kid will have an hour of mandatory outdoor play in freezing, possibly wet weather).

*****

Memory to save: This week, Peter and Meg invented a game that's great for burning energy, less great for being good, quiet neighbors. Peter has been super into folding paper airplanes of late. A couple days ago, Peter and Meg asked me if they could launch a pile of airplanes off our balcony, then retrieve them from the courtyard. I agreed (desperate times - living in a flat with five kids - call for desperate measures). They LOVED it. They ended up launching them, running down for them, launching them again, repeat, till I made them stop for dinner. Last night they changed it up a little. One kid went to the courtyard and attempted to catch the airplanes as the other launched them from the balcony. The catcher would then bring the airplanes back up to the thrower, then run down for more. Halfway through, they swapped roles. (Rachel went down as well to kick around a recently purchased soccer ball. Best $9 I've spent in a while!)

It was a great game, for the most part. The only downside was the noise factor. How can a seven year old boy be expected to launch, or chase and catch, airplanes without yelling and shouting for joy?! Unfortunately, the courtyard is very echo-y. More than once, while I was in the kitchen making dinner, I'd hear through the (closed) kitchen window, the crescendoing voices of my dear children, and have to rush to shush them, either through the balcony door in my bedroom or by actually calling to them in the courtyard from the balcony - classy. I imagine every other dinner chef could hear them just as loudly as I could, without the benefit of knowing who they were or WHY they were whooping and hollering.

I only found one abandoned airplane while passing through the courtyard with my laundry this morning. At least they didn't litter!

Royal flush

Oh boy. It's fitting that I posted for the first time in months yesterday, because TODAY I can't think of any other way to write about the day's experience, but it would have seemed lame to jump straight from Paris in October to this now at the end of January without ANY ramblings about day to day life stuff in between. Phew.

So, wow! Today! This will most definitely go down as one of the highlights of this year for me. I can't think how best to tell the story, so I'll opt for chronologically.

A few months back I heard that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge had announced a quick tour of Sweden and Norway in early 2018 and I've been all ears since.

A couple weeks ago I found the official dates of the visit, and a few days ago I located details on where Will and Kate, along with Sweden's Crown Princess Victoria and her husband, Prince Daniel, would officially be "greeting the people" and marked it on the calendar. Thanks to a few of you who chimed in on a fb question I posted to a friend considering whether it was reasonable to take the kids out of school for this occasion. I'm not sure what ever made me doubt that it would be!

Yesterday, I read a comment on a Stockholm FB group I'm in that led me to hunt down more specifics on the rest of their time here, and I discovered that, in addition to the crowd event in Gamla Stan today, Will and Kate were also making an appearance at Vasaparken - a park I've posted photos from several times, as it's in easy walking distance from our flat!! - to watch some kids play bandy. That was in the morning, and the kids didn't want to miss the whole school day for this, so I decided that Rachel and I would drop the kids at school, go to Vasaparken to try and catch a glimpse of the royals there, then pick the kids up at noon and head to Gamla Stan to stake out our position for the formal greeting event. 

YOU GUYS!!! If you didn't have a chance to see my instagram story already today, check it out before it disappears. If you missed it, you'll probably pick up on the general gist and giddiness here as well, so don't worry.

When Rachel and I arrived at the park, we could see they were cleaning the ice rink and clearly setting up for the event, but hardly anyone was around. We hung our for nearly an hour, watching police set up gates and taping off areas, and people drifted in and set up to watch. I had intended for us to go up the hill to play at the playground, but Rachel and I both were worried we might miss out on a good spot to watch from if we went so far away. (I'm not just saying that - I told Rachel we could go, but she was actually concerned about not seeing "the princess". It wasn't just me!) Just when Rachel began to get bored, a young woman came by offering free hot chocolate from a sweet backpack contraption called a "Huski". She told me it's a Swedish company/concept. She had the big box shaped pack filled with cocoa on her back (it said "choklad" down one side). On the front, on one side was a cup dispenser, and on the other was a cocoa spigot that she poured from. Excellent! 

Shortly after we got cocoa, crowds started arriving. Lots of middle school aged school groups, perhaps as much to see the bandy game as the royals? Unfortunately, at this point, Rachel was getting cold. I talked her into five more minutes, which, happily, was just enough! We were there just long enough to see Will and Kate arrive and walk on to the rink, but didn't stay to watch them take their turns hitting the bandy ball. They were far from us, despite our being right on the police tape line, so I used the real camera to snap a zoomed in shot to prove we saw them for real, in case that was the best we did, and we headed home to warm up before school pick up.

After pulling the kids from school, we walked home to drop off backpacks and, please let it be noted, I advised all the children to make sure they had two layers of pants, WARM SOCKS, all necessary gloves, hats, scarves, etc, and to please, please use the toilet. Praise the good Lord, no one needed to use the bathroom on this outing (possibly because I had second thoughts about the thermos of hot chocolate I had brought along, and ended up withholding it till we got home). Phew! God is good. ALL the time. But especially when no one needs a toilet in an impossible situation.

We arrived at Stortoget (literally: "big square") in Gamla Stan (literally: "old town" - the Swedish aren't always super creative in naming places) about an hour and a half before the expected walk of the royal couples from the palace (the same one we visited a few weeks back) to the Nobel Museum. I'd gone round and round about what a reasonable time to arrive would be, and this was perfection. We scored spots to stand in the front row along the rail, but within a few minutes the rail was full and people started filling in behind us. Viewers arrived slowly at first, and with the square mostly empty still, Meg asked, "Why did you get us out of school so early?!" to which I replied, "Look! If we'd been five minutes later you'd have seen nothing but people's backs." 

Unfortunately, an hour and a half was a long time to stand still in the 28 degree, clear day. The kids played games on their tablets for a while, or read books. We had snacks (but no cocoa... I kept putting them off a little longer each time someone asked). Nathaniel joined us with about 45 minutes left to wait (much to the chagrin of the people behind me who were hoping they'd have no one taller than me and a bunch of kids to try and look over). At that point, Meg was starting to complain about cold feet (literally), and was generally getting... sad. "I miss home" is the catch-all expression of sadness this year, understandably, but it was hard for me to sympathize when we were about to see ROYALTY. There's no royalty at home! I'm a great mom, I swear. But priorities, kid!! Peter was bored and tired and not really into the whole royalty-viewing-as-entertainment concept, so he was getting whiny as well. Rachel had some cold extremities, but was still super excited about being there, so manned up. Still, at one point, we had three kids whimpering and I have some doubts that any one around me would have voted me mom of the year for this whole adventure. I may have asked them to please cry more quietly so people around us wouldn't hear them. (Kidding! Probably. Maybe.)

Just when it seemed hopeless with the kiddos, we saw the photographers leading the royals around the corner. Meg was still crying, but Rachel was all sorts of smiles and READY to MEET a PRINCESS! Peter had dropped to the ground at our feet in frustration and grumpiness, and nothing we could say would coax him stand up and be seen. Victoria and William came around the corner first, with Kate and Daniel behind them, then they split into the correct couples to greet the crowd. And greet the crowd they did! I expected quick handshakes down the row, maybe? They seriously stopped and CHATTED with each person along the row, though. At least those of us, you know, IN FRONT. Ha! 90 minutes (and a day of prep to get us there) totally paid off!

Crown Princess Victoria and Prince Daniel came down the row first. Did I mention that I may have strongly encouraged Rachel and Meg to wear their earmuffs, as an obvious and easy conversation starter? So glad I did! Every one of the royals commented on them! Rachel was BEAMING. Meg wiped away her tears and pulled it together. Peter stayed crouched on the ground, hidden. Marianne and Ruth behaved with appropriately awed composure. Daniel asked how long we were here for. Victoria remarked on the cold and encouraged Rachel to dance to stay warm (as though she needed encouragement to dance!). The Swedish royals chatted but didn't shake hands. They were very sweet, though. Victoria is gorgeous. Her hair was in this beautiful twisted bun that Marianne admired. And she was wearing beautiful cranberry velvet boots and a matching clutch. Having a chance to see Victoria and Daniel in person became a personal goal of mine as soon as we determined we were moving to Sweden, so I am beyond thrilled with how it came to fruition! Actual conversation! 

And then! I mean... THE CAMBRIDGES! Nathaniel asked as we left whether we should perhaps be more excited about the Swedish royalty than the Brits, but I just can't. 

Prince. William. walked. right. up. to. us. and. crouched. down. and. talked. to. my. children.

I can't do the whole thing in periods after every word for emphasis, but that's how it sounds in my head and when I say it out loud, so just understand how I'm feeling, okay?

William for realz walked right up to us and said hello. Nathaniel remarked on our being visitors as well. William asked where from. We said Nebraska in the US. He said, Oh! Nathaniel suggested he visit some time. He said, "Yes! I'd love to! We have a great friend who lives in Pennsylvania..." and then we all laughed and I think it was clear that even he realized how absurd that sounded. I think I said something like, "Pretty close...". He talked to the girls about their earmuffs, noting that Meg's were pandas and asking Rachel if hers were bunnies. Then he shook all our hands. It was DREAMY! I shook the hand of the future KING OF ENGLAND, y'all. I've been over the moon all afternoon.

And we weren't done, because KATE!! Just as she walked up, Peter finally popped up to say hello. "Oh! Where did you come from?!" SAID KATE MIDDLETON, THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE, TO MY SON. That was accidental all-caps-ing, but I'm going to leave it there because it seems fitting.

Then she crouched down and asked Rachel her name, and talked to her about the earmuffs and the cold weather. And then she shook all our hands! 

I am beside myself. 

As soon as they passed on, Peter said, "Wow. Mom. She's soooo pretty." Truth! He's totally smitten.

With the excitement moving on down the line, Peter and Meg burst back into tears from the cold and tiredness, so we took our first opportunity to wedge our way out of the crush of onlookers. As soon as we broke free, promising the kids a quick trip to the warmth of the subway, a man walked up and introduced himself as a reporter with People magazine. When he asked where we were from and we said Nebraska, he said, "Ah. Then you're familiar with People?" Ha! He asked us a couple questions about what we'd talked about with the Duke and Duchess. We remarked on the earmuffs and he asked the earmuff wearers what they'd thought of it all, but Meg was too upset to make words and Rachel just grinned with the light of a thousand suns but gave no quotes. So. *I* ended up quoted in People's online coverage. It was a mix of things Nathaniel and I had said, and not actually quite anything either of us had said (it wasn't "bitter" cold... it was just too cold to stand around in for hours) but whatever. I'm immortalized on People magazine's website in an article about the British Royals visiting the Swedish Royals. Life accomplishment achieved! 

As the kids and I walked in the door to our flat and started to pull off all our gear, I honestly had to take a minute... I stopped and said, "Hey! Listen up, crew!" Actually, if we're being honest, I said that three or four times till I actually had their attention, then went on. "Thank you guys SO MUCH for this afternoon! I know we didn't do a perfect job of wearing warm enough socks, and it was crowded and boring most of the time. But THANK YOU! This meant a lot to me, and I really, truly believe that ten or twenty years from now... it'll mean a lot to you, too! You'll always be able to say that you've MET the Queen of Sweden and shaken hands with the King of England!!" I think at that point, once they were finally warm, it soaked in for them how cool it really was. Or maybe my giddiness finally wore off on them. Because everyone has cheered up and we've laughed about the whole experience all afternoon. 

One of my friends joked this afternoon "How fun! Now you can come home!" and obviously I'm not a plane yet or anything. But I am feeling very satisfied with this bit of the trip. Check. {happy sigh}

Links to instagram for photo reference - post one and post two.

Merry Christmas to all!

As usual, the desire to send Christmas cards was bumped for budgetary reasons in favor of hosting our annual Gaudete party. In lieu of a card, allow me to share some of the photos my wonderful friend Sarah took for us about a month ago. Hooray for an unseasonably warm fall that allowed for coat-free photos in late November! That said, it was late afternoon on a school day, so some kids were cranky, the window of light was short, and one person may have wet her pants along the way... Just sayin'. Sarah did amazing work with the situation and players she was given.

I wish I could show you a flip book of Rachel in the attempts at group shots, to illustrate how truly challenging she was being. Jumping, crouching, gathering sticks and making faces. I had to work with the photos in which she wasn't totally blurry-in-motion, which sadly cut out a lot of great smile photos for the other kids. Also... that look on Ruth's face? I don't know where that came from, but it was pervasive this afternoon. I kept asking her to relax her smile and start fresh, because it would get strained looking very quickly. I'll quit making excuses, though. I have five beautiful, healthy, vibrant children, and I am grateful beyond measure for them! If they refuse to stand still and smile like normal humans, so be it.

I adore this photo of Marianne. Her smile is so natural here! She's nine months into a 24-ish month stint with braces, and seldom complains about them anymore unless they've recently been adjusted. Sixth grade is proving much more challenging than any prior year of school, but she still manages to top grades. She's participating this year in MathCounts, mostly because we're bribing her to, and she's doing very well! She is one of three 6th grade girls who qualified to compete in February (10 students from each school may compete individually; she beat out a few 8th graders and several 7th graders for a spot, though she fell just short of making the 4-student "competing team"). Now that she's proven her abilities, she's getting more excited to be a part of the program. Marianne has become our go-to babysitter, and she is enthusiastic in the role. She encourages us to go out more often and stay out later, despite not getting paid to watch her siblings. I try not to take advantage of this, as I don't want her to burn out early.

Ruth still declines to cut her hair beyond a small start-of-school trim. She nearly sits on it now, and I'm debating how long is too long, but she cares for it herself so I let it go. Ruth joined Chess Club this year and continues to lose matches, but is an enthusiastic member of the club, nonetheless. I love that she doesn't have to win to want to play! She has become an excellent skate boarder since receiving a penny board last spring. She continues to spend large amounts of time in our front tree, when the weather allows. Her natural state is "in motion". She has formed a tight group of friends at school, yet she reaches out to other girls when she sees them without someone to play with. Ruth makes me smile. She has not altogether avoided the pitfalls of the 'tween life; her emotions can be volatile. She swings from joyful to tearful in the blink of an eye, sometimes for no apparent reason. Nathaniel and I occasionally joke with her, "Ruth, don't be a stressful teenager". I can't remember where we read it, but the idea was to help kids learn early how to cope, so you avoid these issues in the teen years. I'm not sure the intention was for us to make sarcastic remarks to our pre-teen when she's sad, but we're doing the best parenting we know how. And really, is there actually such a thing as a teenager who is NOT stressful? 

Margaret, Margaret, Margaret. She was one of the trouble kids at the photo shoot. She was much more interested in collecting flora than posting. And that, despite her wearing a fabulous pink tutu skirt and cowboy boots! This picture is classic Meg, though. She prefers her smile with her mouth closed, probably because when it's open you can see the gaping hole where her two front teeth should be. No two front teeth for this girl yet for Christmas. Maybe Easter. She is the girliest of my girls, but she's training Rachel to follow in her footsteps. She'd rather wear skirts with tights or leggings over pants any and every day. She wants her shirts to have a slim fit. She seldom leaves the house without a headband. Meg loves to scooter and ride her bike. She thoroughly enjoyed soccer this fall, so I should probably see if her classmates are playing again in the spring. She still dreams of being a ballerina, despite knowing we can't swing dance classes. Someday she'll make the same jokes I did in my 20s, about how she'd have been a prima ballerina if only her mom had let her take lessons. In her ample free time (you know - where dance classes could be) she reads and draws and reads and draws some more. She is seldom far from paper in some form. She is in a class full of wonderful girls, and her "best friend" changes from day to day, but the girls all seem to get along wonderfully well so far. I consider that a huge blessing, because I know there are other classes in which that is not the case.

Oh, Peter. This boy. He is so needy, but so loving, and so wonderful. (He was a good sport for photos, but has a terrible fake smile and a high energy level, so he's squinty or squirmy in many an otherwise great picture.) Peter, as you can see, is still missing his front two teeth as well. Only two more years or so till they grow back in... so that's something. Peter is clingy with me, and still gets sad when I leave, but he's doing much better at giving me "one more hug and a kiss" (or sometimes three or four or five more) and letting me leave when I must, or leaving with the girls when he needs to get to school. Peter is an expert light saber battler, but is being drawn in by the allure of blasters as we've just begun showing him the old Star Wars movies. I realize we're light years behind most of his class on this (pun intended). He's hilarious to watch the movies with. Every time there's a gun battle, he's leaping and crouching and shooting and flinging himself bodily across the room, acting out his own version. He has so. much. ENERGY. I wish we could bottle it for sale.

Rachel was the main problem child for pictures, the adorable little punk. At least her hair looks fabulous in every picture. Rachel is the doll baby of our family. She is doted on, and probably spoiled. Except by Peter. The two of them share a room and a dresser and most of their toys, so they are natural adversaries. They love each other well, but they get into some mighty screaming matches along the way. Then they go back to riding bikes together or coloring together or leaping down the small flight of brick stairs as superheroes together, and all is right with the world again. She is obsessed with Halloween, specifically with what her costume will be for next Halloween. Anything that comes up in conversation can become her next costume idea. Sometimes they make sense ("I'm going to be a spider for next Halloween"), or at least sort of make sense ("I'm going to be a zombie princess sword fighter for next Halloween" - thanks "Chasing Fireflies" catalog for some quirky ideas). Other times, they are hilarious weird ("I'm going to be a fork for next Halloween"). I keep telling the other kids to let her forget these ideas. For the love of pete, please don't remind her of them. I need her to move past the crazy stuff so I can talk her into whatever I want her to be when next Halloween actually rolls around.

As luck would have it, my favorite shots of all the kids together were the handful that I joined them in. I like to get one photo with me in it, whenever I have them done, so that I can update a frame on Nathaniel's desk at work. Usually it's not my favorite, but it serves its purpose. This year, it's my favorite. Some friends joked that I should photoshop Nathaniel in. Given his long work hours the past several months, it would almost make a humorously accurate image of our year. He's been in town, but he hasn't been home much, and much of his time at home has been spent working. We're soaking up the time we get with him over his winter break, because next semester doesn't appear to be improving. We thank God every night for his job and for him, for the time and energy he puts in to support our family. And I pray that his superiors realize how how hard he works for them, and appreciate him, and that his load gets lighter in the coming semesters.

Thanks again to Sarah for the photos and the fun we had hanging out while she shot them.

Thanks to the rest of you for reading my little Christmas letter update, let's call it. Merry Christmas to you all! I hope your families are all healthy and well and together for the holidays!

Playing catch up - This Is Halloween Edition

I shared a group shot from Halloween already, but here's a little photo dump of the kids in their costumes for your viewing pleasure:

Hermione from the Harry Potter series, with the frizziest hair we could manage.

A princess. No one princess in particular. Just a princess. With really great hair.

A couple shots of the hair just after I finished it. We winged this, but it turned out cool. I used most of her hair to make one thick braid that I wrapped from the bottom right, all the way around the top of her head and nearly back to where it started. I kept a section of the front out to wrap over and hide the end of the main braid, then gathered the front hair and the remaining hair from the back/bottom and made a second braid to hang down in front. Overall, it gave a decent effect of it being one very long braid, which was the goal.

A witch. But not a mean witch... Mostly she was in it for the striped tights and pointed hat.

Robin. Inexplicably, he's been asking to be Robin since last Halloween when he saw the costume in a catalog (but we already had last year's Superman costume at the time). He didn't forget, as I was sure he would. I tried to talk Ruth into being Batman/Batgirl so he'd have someone to sidekick for, but it turns out there aren't really good options for a tween-sized batgirl costume. Don't google that. Ugh.

How he posed most of the time. Dude is crazy.

Also a princess. Slightly more taciturn, but also with pretty great hair.

The hair.

The pair.

Ready to hit the candy trail with time to spare! Way to go, me! Turns out avoiding face paint saves all sorts of time.

How he "posed" most of the time. I wasn't kidding about the dude being crazy. He takes his super-heroing seriously. Note that the girls hardly notice he's left the line up.

*****

A week or so before Halloween, when the costumes were mostly put together, the kids wanted to try them on for Nathaniel. As he watched them parade through the dining room, he remarked, "Is this what we've come to now? Costumes straight out of the package?" Yes. Yes it is. (He was joking - I promise! Don't get grumpy with him.) I had a few quality years of home made costumes, or at least mostly home made costumes... I'd love to do that again. But when you can get them on Amazon or at Target or Cracker Barrel (my go to source for non-Disney-specific princess dresses) for $20 or less, it's hard to make a case for home made.

Bedtime songs

I cannot tell you how many nights over the past ten years or so I've been putting kids to bed and reminded myself that "it won't last forever...". Usually it's a reminder not so much to appreciate the moment, but to comfort myself that the intensity of the work load will decrease, and someday I really will miss it. Everyone tells me I will. I'm sure it's true. Six or seven years ago was probably the height of the craziness. We had Marianne, Ruth and Elizabeth to get to bed, and baby Meg to complicate things. I remember so many nights, tucking the girls into their beds upstairs, listening to them argue about whose turn it was to choose a bedtime song and then requesting songs that were not my favorite to sing. But I comforted/reminded myself that it wouldn't last forever, and I sang.

Later, when Marianne and Ruth were old enough to mostly put themselves to bed, Meg had moved upstairs and still needed some attention, some bedtime singing. For a while I put her to bed before Marianne and Ruth, which meant they lost their song because I wasn't going to sing again, after Meg was sleeping. Then their bedtimes converged and they wanted songs again... Now Meg is old enough to put herself to bed as well, and Nathaniel reads to the girls (sometimes late into the night) and my songs aren't needed in that bedroom anymore. Every once in a while, if Nathaniel is working late and I'm making bedtime rounds, they'll request a song, then they'll all sing along with me and it often gets rowdier than restful, but I try to embrace those moments because they're clearly dwindling.

I still have the little kids for an audience so my singing career isn't quite over. It almost ended when Rachel moved into Peter's room. She never had a great need for a bedtime song, so I could sing to her or not when I put her down. Then Peter tip-toed into a room with a sleeping baby at his bedtime, and I obviously wasn't singing then and risking waking her. Occasionally he'd request a song with his story on the couch, but not always. Now that the kids are in their bunk bed, though, they go to bed at the same time and the bedtime song has been revived. They can never agree on a song, so these days I do short versions of two each night.

I feel like this - the bedtime song - is, to me, the most tangible sign of my kids growing up. (I might have said tooth brushing - who can brush for themselves versus how many mouths I have to brush each night - was bigger except at our last check up the dentist made me start helping Meg brush again, so we're regressing on that one.) I know it won't last forever. I know they'll grow to a time when they'd find it embarrassing if I offered, and they'll realize I don't even sing the songs all that well. Right now, they love me, they love my voice, I am exactly what they want when it's time to turn off the lights. Could anything in the world be that... encouraging? flattering? fulfilling? There are so many nights that I. am. wiped. out. I'm just done at that point. I've been "on" all day long and I want them all to be ASLEEP. I remind myself on those nights (or I try to, on the nights I can manage it) that this is fleeting. I hear my own voice and laugh that they can even love it, and I sing an extra verse just because.

*****

My repertoire hasn't changed much over the years. Since the older girls seldom get a bedtime song anymore, their favorites now are their old favorites: Gypsy (Suzanne Vega, also referred to as "Hold Me Like a Baby" in this house), Power of Two (Indigo Girls), Part of Your World (from The Little Mermaid). The younger kids' top choices these days are Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Water is Wide (traditional celtic song performed by a million people), and You Are My Sunshine (which I didn't start singing often till Rachel was born, so is "her song", although I don't like the second verse so I make up different, happier words... artistic license and all that). Other occasional requests include Dona Nobis Pacem, and Get Out the Map (Indigo Girls).

The older three have a new set of songs we sing as part of our family night prayer. It was Nathaniel's idea to add a hymn after our family rosary. Often it's "Father I Adore You" in a round, which is one of my favorites. Sometimes a traditional night prayer hymn like "O Radiant Light" or "Day is Done". Other times, one of the girl's favorite church songs from school, like "Sanctuary". I love that the girls know harmonies to some of the songs. We were saying our evening prayers on the patio the other day, though, and Marianne thought singing was WAY too embarrassing, ugh! The joys of pre-teens. I'm glad to be building these family memories while we can. Glad we're transitioning from bedtime songs to sung prayers, and keeping music alive in the house. 

Reflections on having a live-in babysitter

Marianne does most of the babysitting for our family these days. She's nearly 12, and a pretty responsible kid. We're cautious in when we use her - how long we'll be away, and how far, and whether we'll be easily reachable all factor in. If we have a couple babysitting needs close together, I'll ask if she'd like me to hire someone for one night or the other, but more often than not she says she'd like to do it. She loves the freedom of getting to stay up after the other kids are in bed. She likes that I'll often leave a treat for her to have in that quiet time, or I'll take her out for a treat later as a thank you. We don't pay her, and so far she hasn't complained. Well, one time she told me one of the neighbor girls gets $10 to watch her one younger brother, but I told her every family runs things their own way, and she grumped for a minute then got over it. She does get her allowance now (all $3 of it!) so that's something.

For those of you whose eldest child is not yet old enough to babysit, or who have an eldest who is a little too flighty or irresponsible to be left in charge yet, hang in there! It's SO AWESOME! Your day will come!

I had the quirky experience, you'll recall, of getting a two year taste of the good life, back when my niece Sara lived here. She moved in when she was 12. It took me a little while to realize what an amazing and convenient thing it was to have her in the house. Once I did realize, I tried not to take advantage of her by leaving her in charge too often. The freedom to be able to run to the neighborhood grocery store after school to grab that one missing ingredient for dinner, though... that's priceless.

After a couple years of having her here, she moved back home, and suddenly our oldest was 5 again and we had to hunt around the neighborhood for junior high and high school kids who could help. And we had to pay them. Bummer.

Basically what that chain of events meant, was that I had had a taste of the easy life and I was antsy to get back there. Now that we're here again, I do not take it for granted. It's everything I remembered and more! Here are additional assorted reflections, in no particular order:

~ There are times when I worry that I should NOT leave Marianne in charge. Particularly when she's been fighting more than usual with her siblings, and I worry that she might treat them unfairly or harshly in my absence. I nearly backed out of going to an event one night because of that, but it turned out fine in the end.

~ So far I've only trained her to keep everyone alive and, hopefully, get them to bed at night. I haven't set expectations of the house being clean when I get home (though I do ask that it be as clean as I left it) and I will typically let them watch a movie as a treat for them all, and to help keep the peace. We don't go out often, so I don't feel like they're getting so much screen time they'll rot their brains.

~ With Marianne and Ruth so close in age, the "she's not the boss of me" thing has been an issue. My solution, for lack of a better idea, has been to tell Ruth to stay out of Marianne's hair and be helpful when needed. Read bedtime stories if Marianne asks, for instance. Beyond that, I've told Marianne that Ruth can keep herself alive, so to mostly just leave her alone and focus her time on the littler kids. It doesn't always work - the power can go to Marianne's head - but so far they haven't done any major bodily damage to each other while we're out... so that's something.

~ One of the absolute highlights of having Marianne babystting is that I don't feel the need to tidy that day before the sitter comes (or even more so, for Grandma Sherri). I can leave it however messy I want, cause no one is going to see it who hasn't already spent the day living in it.

~ Also, no one is judging me for the dinner food I choose to feed the kids. Chicken nuggets, frozen pizza, frito chili pies. Whatever! The kids think it's the BEST, and I don't have to worry that someone is going to go home and tell her mom about the crazy junk food my kids are eating. (Then again, I tend to believe we all feed our kids that way on babysitter nights, right?)

~ One night, at dinner, Nathaniel mentioned a movie he'd hoped to see in the theater but still hadn't. I said I'd like to go, too. So we looked up a time and WENT. I'm not even kidding. It felt crazy, like back when we were newlyweds and it was easy to do stuff like that. That's what it can be like when you have a babysitting aged kid in the house!

~ A blogger I read recently had her 8th baby, and she posted a photo of her 12 year old daughter holding the baby and said something like "every newborn should come with a 12 year old sister". Man, that's the truth. It makes a world of difference having one of those around, whether it's helping with babies or toddlers or just helping make dinner. A 12 year old girl can bring a whole lot of attitude, but she can bring all sorts of good as well. I'm grateful for mine every day!

Back-to-school, one-on-one outings

I'm sure I've talked about our little back to school tradition of my taking each of the girls out, one-on-one. I started doing it a couple years ago when I needed to have quiet time with Marianne for some girl talk, and to shop for, ahem, undergarments. But Ruth was close enough behind her in age to want a "date night" with mom also. I decided it would be fun for each school aged kid to get that little bit of quality time before the days got crazy packed with school, homework, music practice and what not.

Peter was added to the mix this year, and it struck me that since Nathaniel and I each already get one-on-one nights with the kids of the opposite gender for their half birthdates, it would be fun for him to have the back to school outing with Peter. Down the road, it can serve the same purpose for him that my nights out with the girls do - they can talk about boy things and body changes and maybe I'll even let him do Peter's underwear shopping. (This year, I just picked up some new superhero and ninja turtle underwear for him while I was out, and Nathaniel got to stick with froyo and conversation).

Photos from my three outings were on instagram, but I'll share them here in case you missed them.

Ruth and I went out first, to Starbucks for frappuccinos after dinner, and then to Target to find new socks and underwear. We talked about things she's most excited for in the coming year, or nervous about. We talked about what foods she prefers in a sack lunch. We talked best tic tac flavors. It was deep. You get the idea.

Marianne and I went out the next night. We had to do some actual clothing trying on to restock her on some items and she had money she wanted to spend on new earrings, so we headed to the mall first, then out to Starbucks, and finally to Target. Conversation topics were similar. We talked a lot about friends in her class and worries, and I shared some good insight I'd recently heard from a priest about the concept of "offering up" suffering when life isn't meeting your expectations as well as about how best to love our friends and what that might look like in a school day. Quality talk with Marianne, for sure.

Meg got her night out a couple days later, and wanted frozen yogurt.

(Side note: One of the main reasons we'd been hitting the coffee shop was so that I could get a treat to have with the girls, without breaking the sugar-free kick I've been on for a few weeks now. I can get an iced coffee with sugar free syrup at Starbucks. It's harder at the local yogurt joint. But I didn't want to just sit and watch them eat, because I feel like it sets a bad example of "dieting" and makes it look like I'm avoiding all good things, which I'm not. Luckily, we were headed to the south end of town to shop for a soccer ball, so instead of our usual froyo place, we went to the one right next to a - you guessed it - Starbucks. We popped in for my coffee before going next door for Meg's yogurt, then ate out on the patio. Fun for both of us!)

Meg and I talked mostly about soccer, which she was starting the next day, and about the friends she was looking forward to seeing at school. We talked about making sure to include everyone at recess and in activities, because there's at least one girl in her class who didn't go to Kindergarten with them. Meg knows because she has older sisters in Marianne's and Ruth's classes, so I pointed out that she would be a good person to help make sure this new girl wasn't left out. Meg's class is very girl-heavy, and I worry about all the future cattiness and potential drama. They're a nice group of girls, though. I think they'll do well.

While I'm on the subject of Meg and her classmates, they did indeed kick off the micro soccer season the next day. She loved it and can't wait for the next practice and game!

(Meg is second from the left. There's a lot of long blond hair on the team.)

Eye opening

This coming weekend is my 20 year high school reunion. I'm really looking forward to it. No, really! Don't just assume the sarcasm typical to my writing. Occasionally I'm serious. 

I have a facebook chat with a couple of my closest girlfriends that's been going on sporadically for about six months now, in preparation. Thank heavens they both have better memories, and more remaining ties to the town, than me, and can catch me up on who married whom and where they are now and who that one guy is I seriously cannot remember even though there were only 46 kids in our graduating class. Did he really go to school with us?!

With the big weekend quickly approaching, I decided to dig out my yearbooks and freshen up my name-face recognition a bit (not that everyone will still look just the same, but I figure it can't hurt). In the process, I came across a stack of my old journals. Two of them in particular seem to cover the majority of high school. There was another very poorly written one that was from junior high. I skimmed it and shook my head at my own silliness, but had hopes that the high school ones would be better.

Oh, folks. Oh gosh. If I ever needed a window into what my girls are going through now and what they will be going through over the next 7 to 16 years (depending on the girl in question), I just got one. It was not pretty.

I consider myself to be a pretty even keel sort of gal. I've always been cheerful and relatively easy going. When I look back on high school and junior high, with the exception of a few specific bad incidents, I'd say I had a really great experience. I am confident I have uttered the words "I loved high school!" with a straight face.

You would not know that from these journals! They are incredibly angst ridden. I was "so depressed" and "so lonely" and yada yada yada. Spattered among the whining I have jotted down things like "not that I can really complain" or "I know my life is good" so hopefully if someone ever stumbled across them they'd see through the ridiculousness to the good parts. But I hardly wrote the good parts. Mostly I just wrote about whatever boy I was currently "so in love with it hurts" or other cheese-tastic awfulness that had me alternating between gagging and laughing today. I was forever in love with boys who didn't know I existed, or at least didn't care. 

Looking back on it now it's so easy to laugh! Clearly none of those "loves" was meant to be and even more to point, they weren't necessary, since I found a wonderful guy and was no worse off for not having dated much in high school. But I can remember, and the writing makes it clear, how much it cut me to the core at the time. It makes me wonder how to teach my daughters how unnecessary those silly romances are because in the end there'll only be one that really matters... (I'm envisioning Kirstin Dunst's Amy in Little Women, "You don't need scores of suitors. You need only one... if he's the right one.") but I'm not sure that's something the developing adolescent girl's brain can really absorb.

I seriously wrote in almost every post about the boy I was "in love with" and how he never even looked at me, and how this friend or that was seeing someone and how unfair it all was. I would have thought I was more sensible than that. Maybe what I should really take away is that a girl who sounds that absurdly flighty can still turn into a fairly reasonable human being.

My older two girls each have journals that they use to write back and forth with me. It's sporadic; typically one will pull hers out when she feels slighted by us or by her sister or by someone at school. Ruth only got hers recently, and I was struck by the drama of her tone and the "I don't know what to do" vibe that's very "dear Amy" when in daily life she appears very chill. When I started reading my old journals, though, it was all there. That same overly-concerned-about-things-of-no-importance tone. It reminds me that they can't see past the silliness sometimes, to the really important stuff, because the silly things ARE really important to them. If nothing else, I hope my perusal of my own old writings today will help me remember that what I see as truly important and what they feel as truly important may not often align, and I need to come to them where they are if I'm going to help them and keep them coming to me for advice. 

Also, I shouldn't be so hard on them for grammar and spelling issues, because my junior high journal was a joke in that regard.

Allowance

You guys. Get this.

A couple months ago, Marianne brought up that she would like to receive an allowance. Each of our kids have a savings account that we opened when they were born, and we put a tiny bit into it - $10/month - and deposit extra birthday and Christmas and other monetary gifts into it. Occasionally, when something expensive comes up that is for the child and we might not otherwise be able to afford it, we'll use that child's savings account to help pay for it. Horse Camp last summer is a good example.

The kids know they have bank accounts, but not specifically how much money they have. I don't think that information is necessary at this point. Sometime in junior high or high school, I foresee turning the accounts over to them, though they'd still have to check with us before making any major purchases. We always discussed the accounts not as college savings or anything so grandiose, but more like money to buy a stereo with someday. Because we had this discussion in the early '00s, and people maybe still occasionally bought stereos then. Obviously now we'd be talking about money to buy a tablet or iPod or something much hipper. You get the idea.

All of that is way more than you need to know. The reason I brought it up is because Nathaniel and I told Marianne we'd talk about it, and maybe this summer we'd begin some formal allowance situation. In our discussions, we figure this will basically mean giving Marianne her $10, or maybe just five of her ten dollars, so that she could decide how much to tithe, save and spend. There would also be certain expectations of her chores being done, etc., etc.

A couple days ago, she brought it up again, and told me she'd been thinking about what a good amount would be. At this point, (are you ready for this?) she thinks thirty cents a week. That would give her about $1.20 per month, she says, and she could buy herself some candy or save up for yada yada yada.

I about died.

I've made no secret of the fact that our tooth fairy is frugal (they get $.50 per tooth) and we live pretty simply. We don't give the kids huge gifts. We don't eat out a lot. We do discuss living on a budget. But they do have a sense of what things cost. I swear she's not living in the early 1900s. There's no way she's thinks that she can buy anything major with an income like that. We have a book called "A Baby Sister for Francis"; in it, there's a funny discussion in which Francis asks her father if, now that she's a big sister, she can get a raise on her allowance from five cents a week to six, and mentions a girl she knows who gets seventeen cents per week! So maybe Marianne has a sense that allowances are pretty small. And really, we're looking at something like $1-2 per week, so not sooooo different from thirty cents. The fact that she suggested that, though. It makes me love her all the more!

*****

I never got an allowance. I had friends who did, and sometimes it sounded so, so appealing. But the friends who got large-sounding allowances also had to pay for a lot of their own things - clothes, toiletries, etc. That part did not sound appealing. My parents gave me money as needed, when the request was reasonable. They told me no if it was unreasonable. I used money I'd earned for more extravagant purchases (like the aforementioned stereo) or waited till a holiday when I could request it as a gift.

Do you have an allowance system with your kids now? Did your parents have a good system when you were growing up.

On a related note - what are your thoughts on paying your children for in-house babysitting? We're just starting to figure that out. Currently, Marianne does small babysitting jobs for us, and we give her little treats and lots of praise in thanks, but we do not pay her. Nathaniel said they were not paid for watching siblings. Marianne has made a few dollars off Renee, but that's different. They're family but not siblings.

I promise not to keep throwing questions at you, my eight loyal readers. Sometimes there are questions I don't need ALL OF FB to chime in on, but I like having an easy way to poll friends.

Valentine's fun (read: food)

We started out the day with sugar, and we ended it that way. And we had quite a bit of it in the middle, come to think of it.

Nathaniel asked whether I came up with the kids' Valentine idea myself. Are there really any original ideas being had, in this era of pinterest? Because no. I most definitely didn't come up with the donut Valentine idea myself.

Valentine's Day dessert was a Root Beer Bundt Cake from Baked. Is it strange that I've never considered putting a thick frosting on a bundt cake? It worked beautifully... I just tend to think of a drizzled glaze on a bundt cake. Whole new realms of cake possibilities opened up to me today! (mostly kidding).

This one was lovely and moist and dark! I don't actually like root beer, but my whole family loves it, so it was an act of self-sacrifice to make this cake. Except for the part where I love chocolate, and was totally willing to put up with a bit of root beer flavor for a deep, rich chocolate cake. I could totally notice the root beer flavor - there's a lot in the cake, and a little in the frosting - but the fam said they didn't notice it much. Marianne asked if I'd have noticed it if I hadn't known it was there, and I'm not sure. I might just have thought it had an odd taste, but not been able to place it... Marianne, my anti-chocolate kid who does occasionally still enjoy chocolate cake, was not a fan. Meg thought the frosting was too much (she, also, often turns down chocolate - so weird!) but ate the cake. Everyone else devoured it., myself included. It suggested serving it with ice cream, which makes sense in a root beer float way, or even in a traditional cake and ice cream way, but I thought it was better on it's own. The flavor of the ice cream detracted from the intensity of the cake. Then again, I've been known to ask for "just cake" at birthday parties, so clearly I'm not the biggest fan of ice cream.

We did have a Valentine's dinner prior to the cake. I par-baked heart shaped pizza crusts and we let the kids build their own pizzas. The following photos aren't especially great, but the kids wanted me to document their work.

Topping their pies!

Always eating before her siblings get to their seats. And I let her get away with it, because she's #5 and I'm too tired to put up a fight. Also, she's happier when she's not starving.

No sauce. He's going through a phase. He won't pizza if it has sauce. I thin he gets that from me. I mean, I'll eat pizza with sauce, but I keep it very thin, and would just as soon it not.

They'd all taken showers before dinner so we'd have time for a game after. Hence the hair and jammies.

"Seriously? Are you taking a picture with your pizza?"

"No. I already cut mine. Just smile. I'm documenting."

"What are you going to do with all these pictures of pizza?"

"Smile."

Italian sausage and jalapeno. My favorite when I don't have to share with kids who prefer less kick.

We did manage to play about half a game of Life after dinner before the kids got so tired that the realization someone didn't actually just land on the "adopt twins" square sent one six year old racing for her bed in tears. Nathaniel had suggested we stop a round prior, but I wanted so badly to get to the "buy a better house" square, now that I'd gone back to school and become a doctor and was finally building my wealth... hmph. I never got there. Next time.

I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day with your families, or with your sweetheart, or with friends. Now we move on to setting some goals for Lent, and deciding what to give up. I think I may give up baking (and eating desserts), at least six days a week.

More assorted over-shares and life lessons

Ask Peter what he wants for lunch any day of the week, and the answer will be either peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and honey. He doesn't get one of those options every day of the week, but he'd be 100% happy to eat it. He also eats pretty much any dinner set in front of him, so I'm not worried about him being a picky eater. The kid just loves his peanut butter sandwiches.

When Marianne was very young and in her first daycare, I had to pack her breakfast and lunch each day to send with her. I remember being excited once she was one, because I could throw in a peanut butter sandwich once in a while. Only once in a while. I didn't want to be that parent, the one who fed her child peanut butter and jelly every day. I wouldn't let myself do it more than once a week, if that.

Looking back on those days, as with so many things, I laugh at myself. It's certainly not the unhealthiest lunch on our docket - there's protein and usually whole wheat bread and always something healthy on the side - but there's something about taking the easy route that first- or even second-time moms feel bad about. I don't give Peter his requested lunch every day, but we probably do peanut butter twice a week, occasionally three times, in some form, whether it's the ubiquitous sandwiches, pb-apple-granola tortilla wraps, or a spoonful on the plate with apples and crackers to dip in it. By kids #4 and #5, the easy options seem a lot more satisfying.

*****

I've lamented for years that my hair has continued it's post-baby shed way longer than seems reasonable. Happily, I think I can finally report that the hair loss tapered off to standard human shedding levels, right around Rachel's second birthday. That means that I was losing hair almost steadily from Peter's birth, so for four straight years, by the handful. Gross, I know. And it wreaked havoc on my hair. I'm grateful that the natural curls make it hard to notice when my hair is down, or partly up, but when you see how many times I have to wrap a hairband around my ponytail, or how small a bun my hair twists into, it's noticeable! I'm on the upswing now, though. Regrowth is happening all over the place, most remarkably around my hair line. There are times when my hair is especially crazy - when I've just gotten up from bed, or when I've let the kids play beauty shop - that I feel like a cabbage patch kid, with a crazy fringe of curls framing my face from ear to ear. Lovely. Thanks again, postpartum hormones!

*****

I made a huge parenting mistake yesterday.

Have I mentioned Marianne's upcoming dental/orthodontic work yet? The dentist told us last August at her cleaning that she should see an orthodontist sooner than later, so being the responsible parent I am, I took her in in October. After a follow up, more complete study of her mouth in late November, I got the final plan for her mouth in December. She needs to have four permanent teeth (and one remaining baby tooth) extracted. Ugh. A week or two after the extraction, she'll get braces put on to adjust her current teeth and guide in the remaining permanent teeth that are currently working on impacting up there in her gums. Dentists have been telling us since she was three that we should be looking toward braces, because her teeth have always been fitted so tightly together.

Yesterday the oral surgeon's office called to set a date for the extractions and talk through the process. Hooray for IV sedation! Knowing Marianne, I think her having to feel the tugs and hear the crunching noises of the extraction would not go over well, and we'd have to sedate her again to get her in for her braces with those memories. I'm very happy to have her sleep through the process. This will be her first time being put under, though, so I'm praying she doesn't have a bad reaction to the anesthetic.

The mistake. She specifically requested that she not get braces prior to Confirmation in late February. The orthodontist said a few more weeks wouldn't be a problem, so I booked the extractions for the second week of March. When she got home from school yesterday, I told her, cheerfully even, that I got it schedule and she could relax because it's well after Confirmation. Woohoo!

Not woohoo.

She's traumatized. "I'm NOT getting any teeth pulled! I won't go!" She didn't actually say much last night but she was in a terrible mood this morning and even before I asked for an underlying cause, I knew what it was. She's so, so anxious about the dental work, and truth be told, I'm incredibly anxious for her. Nathaniel says he can't understand dental anxiety, despite having had a couple teeth extracted and braces himself, probably because his grandfather and uncle did much of his dental work when he was a kid. I can totally understand it and am kicking myself for not realizing what a bad idea it was to tell her 7 weeks ahead of time about a stressful upcoming dental procedure. What was I thinking?! Not that I should have waited till the morning of to spring it on her, but I could have at least waited till after the (inexplicably) already anxiety-laden Confirmation weekend.

Lesson learned. {sigh}

Prayers for her peace of mind and acceptance are greatly appreciated, as well as for her as she approaches Confirmation!