Life Lessons

Tonight we went to visit Carver, Grandma Lindy's dog. Carver is 16 years old in people years. He is old. He is sick. And he is a good friend to my mother-in-law. This afternoon I shared with Warren that Carver might be dying soon, that it had almost happened today. Warren was very sad. In a child-like display of emotion, he cried out, "It won't even be fun to be there anymore!" (I reminded him of video games and he stopped saying that). But he also showed some very thoughtful sorrow when he thought of Diesel, another family dog, and how "sad Diesel will be without Carver." And of course he was sad for his Grandma Lindy. So we arranged a visit with Carver. It started out with Lindy and Warren crying in each other's arms on the couch, but ended in smiles and laughter as Warren heard numerous tales of Carver's puppy days recounted. Lindy was touched by Warren's compassion and sensitivity, and Warren was lifted by the strength that comes from good company and humor. And we all believe, that "all dogs go to Heaven."

Easter Saturday

Saturday before Easter is the day for coloring eggs, hiding and hunting for eggs, and sugar highs. Usually we do the hunt in our gynormous backyard, but because of the rain--and being a relatively new, stressed-out mother of 4--we had it at my parents'. This is great because their grass is lovely and green. Mine vacillates between dead and overrun with clover and weeds, so I have them to thank for the pictures--and Andy's cell phone. I forgot our camera. The funniest story of the event actually happened Monday, after Easter. Warren and Abigail both wanted a hard-boiled Easter egg in their lunch at school. So I packed them each one and then got the rest of the story from their teacher. She was seated next to Warren at lunch and noticed him happily eating his egg, when she heard shock and dismay from another table. She looked over to see stunned Abigail, who had just cracked a raw Easter egg onto her plate! I asked my mom about it and she said some of the hard-boiled and raw eggs got mixed up and so we dyed both. Luckily Abigail is resilient.

Shameless Promoting

I'm teaching a music class for kids ages 4-6 starting August. Tuesday at 9:15 am and 4:00 pm I am teaching free sample classes for kids and their parents. If you want to come, please comment here and let me know which time! If you have a friend who might be interested, please put them in contact with me. Thanks!

Little Girls

The only way I've found to get Avery to sit for the time it takes to do her hair--which isn't long--is to let her shave with Andy's electric razor. See how well it works?
Every day I practice violin with Abigail, but it just wasn't possible on Thursday, so I had Andy do it. Abigail gave him a lesson and taught him everything he needed to know. Pretty cute. I've got to remember how well kids respond when they get to be the teacher.

QT for Cuties

It was one of those moments where I wish I had a camera phone. (I know, welcome to the 21st century. Warren says, "So mom, your phone is not that great?") Warren treated his sisters to slushies at QT. Avery got one because she is still potty-trained. Abigail got one because Avery got one--and she didn't wet the bed last night. It was so cute that Warren has been committed to this for several days; he just needed to get me to take them there! When we pulled up, Avery started cheering, and inside, she confidently pointed the way and said knowingly, "This way." They loved their treats. I spent a lot of time convincing Warren that buying one 44 oz. drink for $1.29 and dividing it into cups for the girls was a better deal than paying for two 22 oz. drinks at $1.09 each. (Plus, none of the kids has ever come close to finishing a 22 oz. drink) In the end, he decided that was smart and did it. Sometimes I know I am too emotionally invested in how Warren spends his allowance money. I should just be glad that he is so generous and wants to buy everyone a drink and that he is not buying "stuff" that will take up room at our house.

We had the funniest conversation at dinner last night. Warren and Abigail both attend the same Montessori school. In Montessori, children choose their own work throughout the day and since there is just one of each "work," only one child does it at time, except when they work with a friend. Each child receives each lesson for each work, one at a time, and at different ages, depending on their readiness for the skill.
Warren shared with us how he had "hid a work at school that I didn't want to do for a while."

I asked, suspiciously, "Are you allowed to do that?"

He replied with a very honest look on his face, "Yes. [pause] Can you do that at normal school?"

"No, when you get work at normal school, everyone is supposed to do it right then."

With a shocked look of incredulity Warren exclaimed, "Everyone is supposed to do the same thing at the same time?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's not a very fun way. [pause] Mom, who chooses what lesson everyone gets?"

"The teacher chooses what lesson everyone gets, and they all get it at the same time."

"That doesn't sound fun at all."

Trying to reinforce some positive behavior I followed up with, "I'm glad you go to a school where they trust you to make good choices."

Abigail, who had been listening intently the whole time concluded seriously, "At normal school, they trust you to make bad choices."
Funny. And insightful for me. Sometimes I think I trust my children to "make bad choices." Maybe I shouldn't have worried about Warren saving $1 on the drinks. Or maybe there is a way to find out if they have said their morning prayers without asking, "Have you prayed already?" as if they hadn't. Or maybe I could give the benefit of the doubt when a child is really slow to answer or respond, and just really nicely ask again--especially if that child is Warren, who is often lost in his own thoughts or very focused on whatever he is doing. I suppose I don't answer questions very well either, when I am focused on something else. Something to think about for me.