Climb Every Mountatin...or Chair

Madeleine is very determined, and loves to climb, so it is only natural that one day she would conquer the full-size kitchen chair. Can you tell she is proud?

Family Theatre

Our family loves to perform. Even Andy had his day back in a band, playing at talent shows in high school and amateur shows in college. So this week at Family Night, I asked Abigail to do the activity, and suggested that we act out her "Let's Play Music" puppet show. With costumes. Naturally, she thought that was a fabulous idea and set to work making that cute paper crown that she fitted to Andy's head. She had a costume for Warren, but he wouldn't wear it. He did, however, come up with a funny idea for his horse (see below). She of course, was the princess. Avery was the adorable court jester, a fitting role for one who likes to entertain so much. We had a hilarious time each acting out our part on the "stage" aka the rug as the music blasted out the story.

Abigail's First Recital

Last Sunday and this Sunday, Abigail performed her first violin recital: once at Aunt Julie's, and once at the Jennings'. It was the result of a whole year's work. I am not sure who it was a bigger accomplishment for--me or her? In Suzuki lessons, the parent, in this case me, attends every lesson and practices with their child every day; well, actually, just the days you eat. I will be the first to admit, we missed a few, especially when we were out of town this summer, but when life was "normal", I think we did really well. But that is not what I mean by it being my accomplishment, too. What I mean is that my personality practicing with a 3.5-4.5 year old can pretty much be a death-kiss on your relationship with that child. I expect a lot, and I already know how to play the violin, so it wasn't like I had to struggle along with her in that regard. But I struggled, and thankfully, I had other skills to learn from Heidi, Abigail's violin teacher and my dear friend.
Heidi taught me how to diffuse conflict, how to focus on just one thing to fix, how to take the focus off the negative behaviors, how to break things into manageable jobs and how to correct Abigail without inviting defiance. Really, I'd have paid her just for the parenting class! And, I learned this sometimes disheartening, but realistic truth: what worked yesterday probably won't work again today (with practicing, not everything). Sometimes I'd come up with the best, cutest game ever, it made practice time a charm, and the next day, it was old hat. The same problem or skill had to be practiced from a different angle. For someone like me, who likes routines because they assure that everything will get done, that is hard to swallow, but also a humbling reminder that I cannot rely on me alone, whatever the task may be. Inspiration must guide.
So what did Abigail play? 4 "Twinkle Variations" and "Twinkle Theme," aka "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." We spent the entire last year learning how to hold the violin, how to hold the bow, how to move the bow, how to hold her hand, how to place her fingers, how to play in tune, where to look and how to listen by playing those songs thousands of times. We did a few other little "song" exercise: The Bunny Song, The Kangaroo Song and Sunday-Monday Song, and we started 2 others--Lightly Row and Song of the Wind--in the mean time, but mainly, it was those. She did great. She has no stage fright, and loved walking up to play and all the clapping and bowing involved. She had a memory slip once or twice, but I am really pleased she can find her place and come back in with her accompaniment. I think being able to play through a mistake is one of the most valuable skills a musician can acquire. So I am really proud of her.
Abigail doesn't love to practice every day, but we still do it and once we're started, she likes it. I hope I can keep working on my parenting/practice skills so that playing the violin stays rewarding for her, and something we can enjoy doing together. I know my frustration sends the wrong message or interferes with the joy of being together and playing, so I've still got a lot to learn. But I'm thankful she is so forgiving and hope I'll keep being that way with myself.

My Madeleine

Oh how I love my Madeleine. She is almost a year old. If she had come "on time"--and really, what does that mean?--she would be a year old today. Instead, we celebrate her birthday 12 lovely days from now. Even from the start, Madeleine was determined to come only when she wanted to be here. A letter to Maddie:
Dear Madeleine,
Last week I told someone, "If Madeleine were not my baby, I would say she is a cranky baby. But since she is mine, she is just wonderful." I felt disloyal saying it, like I had betrayed the smiling little baby below. I am sorry. I know that teething, frequent ear infections, being carried around by older siblings and being the 4th child is hard. Thank you for signing up to come to our family anyway!

Yes, those things are hard, yes, you walked very early, and as a result you maybe get left to fend for yourself a little more than your siblings at your age did, but still, life is very joyful. You love to play peek-a-boo, and try to say it. You mainly just get the inflection right, but, oh you are so cute and proud of yourself! For months now, you have had a happy obsession with all things musical, but especially with the tone bells. Any chance you get to have them out of the case, you are playing away. Tonight, you would play a few seconds, then turn around excitedly to smile gleefully at me and dad. You also like to join in when I am doing vocal exercises, or singing. I'm glad you want to be an active part of our family.

Madeleine, your love of all things musical extends to dance. Really, how could it not when you see all the fun your siblings have putting on shows and dancing on the rug? Sometimes even dad and I dance. This was Thursday night just before dinner. I had the Cleanup Music on, and you were dancing solo on the rug. After a while, you walked up to dad and it was obvious that you wanted to dance with him. You love dad so much, especially in the evening when he has just come home, so this was a very happy time for you! My favorite, though, is when you dance alone. You lift both arms in front of you and slowly you bounce. It is hilarious.

You love to be outside, front yard or back. Somehow you daily survive the perils of our backyard just so you can be with the big kids, and get your daily dose of eating garden soil. Yum. You bring me oranges and tangerines you want peeled. I think that breast milk and bananas aside, tangerines off of Jim's tree are your main food source. You eat several each day, sometimes waiting for the seeds to be removed, but mostly not.
Lately at night you are not sleeping so well, but I really don't mind like I would've/did with your siblings. I am a little bit grateful for the closeness we get, lying side by side in my bed, hoping this counts as time spent one on one.
I marvel at your determination, and at how obvious it is to see the workings of your mind even when you can't verbally express them. You are so purposeful in what you do. I am delighted to be your mother, and I'm glad you like me and dad better than anyone else in the entire world. I feel the same way about you,

Love,
Mom

Love Bug

This is Warren's "Love Bug" he made to hold his Valentine's at school. I thought it was so cute, and so cute that he named it that himself. He missed Valentines Day celebrations at school, but friends brought his box home for him, and this is why.
Thursday and Friday, our family caught the "love bug"--you know, the germs you share because you love eachother so you all end up throwing up and nauseous? Well, just me and Warren and Abigail. The whole situation was exacerbated for me because I made a new soup for dinner. It was a bit of a gamble: it had lamb, apples, curry and coconut milk, among other things. Beside that, it was a recipe that was part of a children's book we checked out from the library, so who knows if it really had ever been made before? But I like trying new things, so I made it, and didn't like it at all. I usually like everything. I don't think that in our almost 8 years of marriage and cooking that I have ever completely thrown a meal away. Friday I did. Well, technically, Andy did it for me, because by that time I was lying sick on the couch. He liked the soup. Warren said it was gross, Avery tried a few bites, and Abigail said, "I hate this. It tastes like dog." To which, I replied, "Lamb, acutally." :)
So Friday, I kept Warren and Abigail home from school in case they were contagious. We all felt fine by then, so we had "home school," which means I repeatedly set the timer for 10 minutes and we did "work." This meant spelling tests, making words out of the word 'valentines', silent sustained reading, singing time, group reading time and a chore for Warren. For Abigail, tracing and stenciling, handwriting cursive words and sounding them out, singing time, story time, coloring, a chore and using hand-held letters to spell 3 letter phonetic words. Avery colored and worked along with us. It was delightful.
Later in the day, I was working at the computer and turned around to see this:

Yes, those are the curtains. Yes, I told her she could keep doing it as long as I took pictures. I'm not sure what kind of message that sends. A funny Avery question from our snuggle time tonight: "Mom, what if I slept in the toilet and got sucked down the drain and came out in a different house and it had flowers on the wall?"

Determination Personified

Just before Avery's nap, I snagged a mini cupcake from the kitchen and carried it back to Avery's room to share it with her. (I know, what a healthy choice). Madeleine, who was also in my arms, saw it in my hand the whole walk down the hall, so I knew she'd want some. I decided I'd give the cupcake top with the frosting on it to the girls, since I didn't like the frosting. So, Madeleine and I sat down on the bed by Avery, and I took the tiny cupcake wrapper off, and set it on my knee, and went about the business of breaking apart the cupcake.

Well, it was too much for Madeleine. She snatched that wrapper--all covered in yummy crumbs--and stashed it in her mouth before I could intervene. I tried to trade her for a piece of real cupcake, but, no, she would not have it! I tried to gently pry (can those words go together?) her mouth open, but to no avail. Madeleine has 5 razor sharp teeth that stand sentinel to her digestive tract, and nothing gets by them without her notice.

So, I gave up, Avery and I split the cupcake, and Madeleine ate the wrapper. Yum.