A few little things

Our new house has this beautiful built-in cabinetry.  I think you're supposed to use it to display all of your beautiful, um, stuff.  We don't really have beautiful things to display.  We don't really have things that are just for display at all.  Luckily Isaiah takes care of it by filling our built-ins with his Lego creations.  He and Eliza both like to put their most important toys up high just in case babies come to visit.  Most of my friends are still reproducing, so we do have littler kids here quite a bit, but it still cracks me up when they insist on putting everything out of reach.

Made this one for Eliza Mae during a snowstorm a couple of weeks ago.  I'm not sure I like my yarn choice.  I'm going to try it again in a solid color.  I love finding vintage patterns online.  This one was from the 1950's.  It also had a pattern for a matching one for mom, but I'm opting out.

Made some Valentine robot shirts for my kids this year.  They turned out just okay; luckily the kids are turning out super cute so it doesn't matter what I put them in!

I really do work hard all day.  Usually I finally sit down to rest about 30 seconds before Jerel gets home, which I think gives him the impression that I've just been resting all day.  So I post this as evidence that I do accomplish things.  Maybe there's mac & cheese all over the kitchen floor (that's because I think it's way more efficient to just wait until it dries; then you can sweep it right up instead of picking it up one by one) and maybe the kids faces are dirty (that's because dirt/food on faces doesn't bother me.  You can clean it off but it's just going to get dirty again.  I believe in just saving it all up for bath time.  It's called batch processing and I learned about it in grad school (although I came up with the dirty face application of the principle all on my own) so it must be something smart people do), but none of that should lead a person to believe I haven't had a productive day.

Christmas

Fake Snow and That's Weird

Some years we don't get any real snow in Portland, so when we got this light dusting we did our best to play in it.  There wasn't enough for real sledding, but when you have a big brother who will push you down the hill you don't really need snow!

Weird, right?  That's ME up there.  ME doing something that requires something akin to athletic ability.  I find the whole thing quite odd, but it's working so I'm sticking with it.  Last summer I decided that since Eliza was approaching 3 it might be time for me to get serious about losing the baby weight.  Because really, if she's 3, then isn't it more like preschooler weight?  In a moment of weakness I purchased a Living Social deal for a new gym in Portland.  Not really a gym, actually, they didn't have a location yet they just hosted workouts in public parks.  They do a combination of agility training (think  boot camp) and strength training (think CrossFit and Olympic-style weightlifting).  I liked the outside idea; it seemed like if I wanted to run away it would be easier to sneak off.  A couple of months after buying the deal I thought it might work better if I actually redeemed the deal and started attending classes.  So I checked the website for the park address, hauled myself out of bed at 5am one morning, and off I went.  I got to the park a few minutes early and waited for people who looked like they might be there to work out.  There was a man in a sleeping bag under a bench but I counted him out.  Then there were two guys sitting at a table drinking coffee and I decided they were either waiting for a bus or waiting for a murder victim; not wanting to volunteer in case the latter was the case, I waited at the other end of the park.

I was very annoyed when class time came and the coaches still weren't there.  I hate it when things don't start on time.  Don't people respect other people's time anymore?  Sheesh.  But then the time got longer and longer and there was only one rational conclusion:  somehow the coaches knew I wasn't going to be good enough for their class and so they were ditching me.  Logical, right?  So like a teenager being stood up for a date, I picked up my dignity and threw it in the back of the car and cried the whole way home.  It took so much emotional energy to sign up and attend an exercise class and having it not happen was more than I was up for.  

I got home and Jerel saw me crying and said "Why are you crying?"  So I told the whole sad story.  And then Jerel said, "Okay.  But why are you crying?"  It's funny now, but it wasn't really at the time.  And he was serious.  In his mind I hadn't even had to do the hard thing I was dreading, so it was more like a GOOD thing had happened.  I tried to explain about how the hard part was the getting up and going for the first time, and now I'd have to do all of that over again.  I don't think he got it.

Anyway, it was all a mix-up and the coaches had forgotten to update their website.  It was totally their fault and they felt so terrible they gave me an extra free week of classes.  (Really?  I didn't even want to go once, nevermind a whole extra week!)  But now I've been going for about 6 months, they have opened their indoor location, and against all odds I actually like it.  Don't get me wrong, I hate it.  I would rather sleep.  Or crochet.  Or go to the dentist.  Etc.  But for some reason it works for me.  It's full of all these tough, strong, athletic people who do crazy things like cyclocross and 50-mile races and sports I haven't heard of.  They use this gym to prepare them for those crazy things.  I use the gym to prepare me to stay home all day.  And even though I really shouldn't fit in at this place (there are also a lot of Portland-style diverse people, not so many Utah-style conservatives) I feel like I do so I keep going.  I go in the morning 4 times a week; Jerel goes into work late on the days I go.  It's a long drive--30 minutes each way--and I do realize there are gyms closer, but I figure if this one is working for me I'll stick with it.

Pre-PreSchool

Let me start off by saying I don't really believe in preschool.  I'm not necessarily opposed to it, I just don't buy in to all the hype about kids needing preschool to be ready for kindergarten.  At least not in our circumstance (which I realize is not something all kids have).  We read to our kids, we teach letters and numbers and math and all sorts of stuff as it comes up in the real world.  And, because both me and the kids enjoy it, we also do some curriculum-guided work in math.  (Also because Jerel is horrified by the math curriculum our school district uses; the only solution for him was to order the RIGHT curriculum, and then I'm supposed to teach it to them before they learn things the WRONG way at school :)  I don't think it matters that much, but it's important to him and I'm on Team Jerel, so we go with it.  I did ask him the other day, after he said something about  me needing to teach them the right curriculum at least through elementary school, if I had any say in the matter.  He said, "Yes, you can say 'I'd be happy to go along with that.'"  He cracks me up.)

All that said, last year Zay and I participated in a Joy-school-ish preschool co-op thingy...basically, 6 kids with the 6 moms taking turns teaching.  It was semi-structured; we ordered a curriculum that we followed and we had a daily schedule, but things were still really flexible.  A perfect intro to school in my opinion.  It worked really well and for Zay I think helped the transition to "real" preschool this year, which is all in an effort to ease his transition into kindergarten next year.  He likes to ease into things and we felt this would be the best path to take for him.

Anyway, since Eliza saw Zay going to preschool she decided she needs to go to preschool too.  So this last fall I put together a group of 7 2-year-olds.  They meet once a week for a couple of hours.  I ordered the same curriculum we had used for Zay's class last year, but I overestimated their abilities and the lessons are pretty much over their heads.  That's okay though, we just make it a bit simpler for them and they all seem to have fun.  It's much more casual that last year's group because all the kids still have two more years of preschool after this one.  This coming fall Zay will be in Kindergarten.  I've talked to Eliza about her options.  She seems to transition easily to new situations and places; I think she is one of those kids who could not do a day of preschool and go to full-day Kindergarten just fine.  I also don't think I need to put her in preschool just because I put him in preschool; I tell the kids all the time that "fair" doesn't mean everyone gets the same, it means everyone gets what they need.  Anyway, I told her she might enjoy taking classes like art or dance or gymnastics or whatever else she likes and that she could either do fun things like that or we could find a preschool for her.  She chose preschool right away and hasn't looked back.  So we've signed her up for a preschool around the corner from us.  With Zay we did a LOT of looking at various preschools and I feel really good about the school he's in; it's definitely the right fit for him.  The one Eliza will be going to  will be great for her; lots of kids in our ward go to it (although I don't think any will be in her particular class) and it's been around for decades.

And now that you know the story of our kids' early education, here are some pics of Eliza's little Pre-PreSchool class:

Here they are wearing their firefighter hats.  We walked to the mailbox where we found a letter for each of them from their parents.  It was a fun time!  One of the little girls is from my old ward; it's a bit of a drive for them so her mom stays and hangs out during preschool.  She helped us on our walks, and now that my teaching turn is done she and I get to just hang out and chat.  Grown-up time! (Okay, grown-up time with 3 kids who aren't in the preschool class, but still.)

Here they are making Christmas tree ornaments.  They practiced fine motor skills.  I practiced controlling my OCD and not totally freaking out when they mixed up all the beads.

Eliza turns 3

This year Eliza's birthday was the day before Thanksgiving.  Isaiah's birthday is always while we're in Utah for our summer visit; I'm pretty sure my kids think you can't have a birthday if you are not in Utah.  It's fun to have lots of cousins around and it's super fun that they don't want "friends" parties yet because we all know I'd cave to the pressure and have way too much stress about making everything theme-y and stuff.  Sometimes parenting little ones is hard; things like this make me glad they're still little.

Eliza isn't really so much of a girly girl.  Like, not at all.  She likes to play with Isaiah and do everything he does, which is pretty much all monster trucks and hot wheels.  As much as I really wanted a little girl, this non-girlyness doesn't bother me at all.  Because as much as I really wanted a little girl, I really really wanted a strong, independent girl who isn't afraid to do her own thing.  Which is why when she said she wanted a monster truck birthday cake I didn't care a bit.  Soon enough she'll be in school and the other little girls will get her interested in dolls and princesses and (ahhhhhh!) Barbies.  For now we'll stick with monster trucks.

She did surprise me recently and picked Disney Princess sippy cups over Toy Story ones.  Her little friends thought it was silly that she couldn't name a single one of them.  She would probably find it equally unbelievable if she knew those girls don't know the names of any of the monster trucks!  

I don't have any pictures, but I made her these super adorable dolls for her birthday.  She asked for, and received, boy gifts--a monster truck, cars, etc.--but I wanted to give her the opportunity to like something girly.  It didn't surprise me a bit that she had no interest in them.  Grandma tried and tried to get her to play with them, even resorting to having the dolls go for rides on the monster trucks.  It's been a few months now and the dolls just sit in the toy box.  Like I said, I expected this reaction, so it doesn't bother me.  What DID bother me was before Christmas when I had the kids go through their toys to find some to donate to Goodwill.  They weren't too excited about it, even after I explained all about the less fortunate, but they did it.  Eliza brought me the handmade dolls to give away.  I refused.  "We are NOT giving those away."  Zay pointed out that no one plays with them; he even volunteered to explain why:  "they are really ugly, Mom."  I insisted we were keeping them.  "But Mom, what about the POOR kids?!"  "I don't care about the poor kids, we're keeping these dolls!"  And so we've kept them; she gets them out occasionally (and by "occasionally" I mean twice since November) and that's okay with me.  Either she'll appreciate them at some point, or they will be in super great shape when I give them to her daughters someday!

Thanksgiving Photos