Did you all have nice Fathers’ Days?

Things were real around here as our middle child announced an upset tummy shortly after brunch. She seems fine today, but that definitely put a little wrinkle in all of our hiking/bowling/running/kite-flying plans. Ah, well. That’s part of being a father, right?

We made the most of it and still had a lovely day. We are (finally) in our last week of school. We go up through Friday and then we’re OFF! We totally hit the ground running next Monday with oodles of things going on, but it’ll be fun.

Here’s the plan for this week:

Sunday:

Breakfast (for the littles before 7:30am Mass)–Cheerios, Blueberry Yogurt, Juice

Brunch–Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Tortilla Roll-Ups, Pineapple

D–Lemon Chicken w/ Angelhair, Broccoli & Cauliflower w/ Cheese Sauce

Monday:

B–Vanilla Raisin Oatmeal, Milk 

D–Cheddar Broccoli Chicken Rice Bake

Tuesday: B–Banana Nut Muffins, Oranges, Milk

D–Beef & Bean Enchiladas

Wednesday: 

B–Banana Nut Muffins, Apples, Milk

D–Macaroni & Cheese w/ ham, Carrots (date night)

Thursday: (my birthday)

B–Mocha Mint Oatmeal, Pineapple, Milk

D–Lasagna, Broccoli

Friday: (last day of school)

B–Oatmeal Raisin Heart-Shaped Muffins, Honey Banana Smoothies

D–Personal Pizzas w/ assorted toppings

Saturday:

B–Cinnamon Roll Bread, Sausages, Fruit

L–Assorted Burritos (beef, pork, bean) to go (We’re heading to our friends’ in Massachusetts and I always pack a lunch for us all to eat together upon our arrival; it’s a fun tradition!)

D–Whatever we all decide to cook together!

And that’ll take care of it!

Lots of fun stuff happening around here this week! How about at your house? What are you up to as Spring draws to a close? (That’s right– I said it. It’s NOT summer yet. Almost. But not quite. )

Menu Plan: Last week of school! is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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Thursdays are hard, you guys.

Generally speaking, my kids still get plenty of homework on Thursday nights but, I’ll be honest, I’m kinda running out of steam by then. My middle child typically has horseback riding about a half hour away from 5:00 to 6:00 pm. This means that I can either feed them crazy early or try to toss together a late supper. Early, early Friday morning is our garbage day, so I need to remember to get the trash up. And, every other week, the recycle. If A. has missed karate because of baseball or some other conflict, I may have to drive him to some other town to make that up. And so it goes.

Did I mention that Thursday is the ONE day of the week when my husband has to work late?

Now, don’t get me wrong. I know I have it easier than many. This isn’t a contest to see whose life is the most challenging. (Believe me– I know I wouldn’t “win.”)

Still, Thursdays are hard.

Yesterday, it poured. All.Day.Long. Our ground here is so saturated, they warn the trees might topple. Our rivers and lakes swell and threaten to pour over their banks at any moment. We all wish we could pass our moisture on to those facing wild fires; goodness knows they could use it more than we can.

Horseback riding was cancelled. Homework was done. Supper was being finished. My back was an aching mess.

I considered what to do with these little people in that hour between dinner and bedtime. And I’ll be honest with you all– these are the things that ran through my head: 1) they could watch a silly show, 2) they could play a video game, 3) they could do an art project, once I got the table all wiped down, 4) they could play with G’s toys she just got for her birthday; the novelty hadn’t yet worn off.

I looked out the window at the mud puddles and pouring rain. What a day.

Still…

There was no lightning… It wasn’t particularly cold… We still had sufficient light…

“I’m going outside to play. Who wants to come?”

Because there were mud puddles to run through…

Raindrops just begging to be caught on tongues…

Slippery inflatable balls to toss and drop…

Rain gutters creating make-shift faucets…

Storm drains dammed up to create awesome jumping spots…

And, perhaps most delightfully to them, a mama who wasn’t afraid to do her share of splashing…

I’m not always the impulsive fun mom. I likely fall somewhere in the middle on that spectrum. But, oh, as I wrapped giggling, freshly showered children in fluffy towels last night, I was reminded of why it can be so very worth it.

Rain, rain, you can stay… we’ll just find new ways to play!

When life gives you rain… is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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“My husband does all the cooking,” she told us. “If Mommy has to cook, the kids know they’re getting pancakes!”

Laughter all around.

“Oh, here too!” another mom remarked.

And that was all good. See, I have no issue whatsoever with whatever division of labor works in a household. I am not one who believes “a woman’s place is in the kitchen” or that men are culinarily inept or any such thing. But, still, I smiled and said nothing.

Because what would they have thought if I told them that my husband cooks absolutely nothing in our home? That I make sure every single meal of the day is prepared for them? How would they have reacted to learn that, not only do I cook every single dinner we eat here, but I also pack his lunch each and every day? Would they realize that…

That’s just exactly how I want it.

A woman’s place might not be in the kitchen, but it’s one of my very favorite places to be.

I love to cook. I love to bake. I have my kitchen “just so” so I know where everything is. I painstakingly plan grocery trips to stay within budget and ensure we have the right amount of food to get us through the right number of meals. I can’t have someone just going haphazard with it all in the quest to make something– it’d throw my whole organized plan off.

And, so, he leaves it to me.

He helps me arrive at a budget and increases it when he sees me start to beat myself up. He tosses out ideas for meals that might sound good each month and is excited when I make them. He contentedly eats what I set before him and asks “Is there more?” if it’s something he’s enjoying, while understanding that, well, sometimes there may not be more meat, but I’ve still got bread or veggies, if he’s hungry.

I’m probably not going to impress all the other mommies at story hour by telling them my husband doesn’t do any of the cooking. I probably don’t look like the best portrait of a strong, independent woman. Some probably think our relationship is horribly old-fashioned.

But I don’t mind.

Leaving the cooking to me? Is actually one of the ways he loves me.

How about that?

How do I love thee? Leaving it to me. is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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You know what I love about you people? So many of you seem to be humored by the same things as me. And, really, that’s just super fun.

I had such a good time doing my JessieLeigh Answers the Search Box post last month (and many of you giggled along with me!) that I thought I’d do it again. Honestly, there’s so much interesting inspiration buried in those statistics, it’s a blast to look through and cull out the most popular questions and funniest terms.

So, without further ado, I present you with–

JessieLeigh Answers the Search Box, volume 2

1. ”tall” “2013″ site:parentingmiracles.net, ”a.” “2013″ site:parentingmiracles.net, ”height” “2013″ site:parentingmiracles.net

Okay. So, all three of these search phrases popped up FOURTEEN times in one day. This tells me that, somewhere out there, someone really wanted to know how tall A. is. Seriously, people– it’s not some big secret. He’s 4′ 6 1/2″. Next time you’re dying to know something like that, I recommend email or twitter as a much faster method of getting an answer.

2. “I lopped off my hair– now what?”

Well, don’t panic. We all know I’m of the “it’s just hair” mind-set, and such things are not cause for alarm. Now, if you lopped off your hair all Britney Spears-style in a fit of madness, I’d recommend you consider seeking help. But, if you were just trying something new? Roll with it. A good hairstylist can probably repair any serious issues and, well, it’ll grow.

3. “When to unload the dishwasher.”

Um, I feel like this is a trick question. Because, really, isn’t the only appropriate answer here, “when it’s clean”? That’s when I do it, at least. So there you go.

4. “Why shouldn’t we take our parents for granted?”

Okay, here goes: because they birthed you, raised you, fed you, clothed you, taught you, sheltered you, provided for you, invested in you, loved you… oh, too much? Well, that’s what you get when you ask JL that kind of question. Next thing you know you’ll ask me something like “why shouldn’t we neglect our children?”

5.  ”Miracle for wrinkled forehead.”

Sigh. Let me know if you find it.

6. “Child nudity movies.” “Child nudism movies.” “Nude children in movies.”

GO AWAY, SICKOS. You will find no information on nude children on film on my site. I addressed children seeing violence and/or nudity in films but never, ever did I talk about naked kids being filmed. So go away. Seriously. I don’t want you here. No one needs that kind of traffic.

7. “Results of giving up Diet Coke? Will I make it?”

Yes. Yes, you will. Diet Coke is not necessary to sustain life– that’s the good news. The bad news is that soda can be a very real addiction for some people. I was very candid in sharing my own results– I didn’t notice much. HOWEVER, water is infinitely cheaper than soda and inarguably better for my body, so I still consider it a good thing that I ditched the stuff. You can do it, too. I’m rooting for you.

8. “Things you can say to make people think you’re pregnant.”

Well, in my experience, almost anything can be interpreted as as pregnancy announcement. But the way this is worded makes it sound like you WANT people to assume you’re pregnant. So I’m going to recommend going with, “I’m pregnant!” That’s probably the most fail-proof.

9. “Why don’t I like fih?”

I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never tried fih. I’m going to suggest you try fish sometime and see if it’s more to your liking.

(And, because it just wouldn’t be the same without a question about balls…)

10. Does the Playskool ball popper blow or suck?

Oh, my. The answers I could give… let’s just stick with the truth. Both. One end blows and the other sucks. (I swear, that didn’t sound as bad in my head.)

Keep on searching, Googlers and Bingers! I find you endlessly entertaining.

JL Answers the Search Box, Volume 2 is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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For pretty much my whole life, I interpreted the word “gifted” to mean “exceptionally smart, having a high IQ.”

Now, I’m not so sure.

When I was going in to the fourth grade, it was recommended I take a special test. This didn’t come as a huge shock; my brother and sister had both taken it before me. So, I went into an office, sat down with a teacher, and took the test. It was a verbal IQ test.

Shortly after, we got the word that I had been accepted in to our local gifted and talented program. In that town, at that time, that meant I was in a small class with two teachers and other fourth, fifth, and sixth graders who were, basically, the brightest of the bright.

We moved to a new state before my fifth grade year, and gifted programming looked different in our new town. I was tossed in a “typical” class and those of us deemed “gifted” were just pulled out for about an hour a week to do enrichment activities.

By high school, gifted education amounted to taking advanced placement courses. And take them, I did– six of them, in fact.

Anyway, all this to say– I spent my entire childhood as one of the “gifted” kids. And that was fine. To be brutally (and hopefully not conceitedly) honest, I truly was one of the top in my class and I could be taught most things pretty easily.

It wasn’t until I was a good six years in to mothering A. that it was suggested to me that there might be a difference between “gifted” and “really smart.” 

The gifted coordinator in our school district, Dr. C., is fond of saying, “People worry that the gifted children will get bored in class. But they don’t– it’s the very smart children who get bored. Truly gifted children will find a way to make it interesting.”

A’s classroom teacher tells me that she’s heard Dr. C. say that for years and years and it never made any sense to her. Until she met A.

It’s kind of hard to wrap your brain around that. But, if I really dig deep, I think I can start to sort it out.

Really smart children can be taught just about anything. You show them how to do it? They can do it. They can apply learned concepts and solve complex problems. Their intelligence is keen and teachers tend to love these kids– what’s not to love about a kid who learns so well?

Gifted children often do things in their own way. They might decode very difficult reading material at a shockingly young age using unknown techniques. They may figure out a method for adding ridiculously long numbers together without stacking and carrying. Often, they’re solving material at very young ages uses methods they were never actually taught.

The results? Can often be the same– both gifted and very smart children frequently arrive at the correct answers and perform well on tests.

But the journey they take to get to that destination? Can be oh-so-different.

“Truly gifted children don’t get bored; they find a way to make it interesting.”

Because A. doesn’t solve much of anything in a traditional way, his mind is never limited as to what it can do with something. This means that, while I would blow through a sheet of simple sums in a couple minutes and then sit there bored, A. would complete the sums and probably see patterns emerge. He’d keep going. He may very well find a short-cut in the process and then start applying that elsewhere.

It’s a totally different process.

Parenting A. has made me sort of question just how “gifted” I ever was.

Do I think I was in the wrong class? Not really. That class was likely a lot of really smart kids with a few truly gifted ones. We still benefitted from the advanced curriculum and enrichment materials.

Do I think being gifted is superior to being really smart? Not really. I thing being really smart is likely easier. People understand “smart” better. Teachers love smart kids. Like I said, we’re a teachable lot and, well, that’s kind of nice. It takes a special teacher to recognize and nurture giftedness and not get frustrated with the atypical ways in which a gifted mind works.

And, so, I have Dr. C. to thank for making me see the difference. For, without spelling it out for me, helping me discover the difference between gifted minds and those that are very intelligent. It’s been a very eye-opening discovery.

What do you think? Do you believe there’s a difference between “gifted” and “really smart” or are we just splitting hairs?

“My Story… ” Monday: Dr. C. is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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I’m in a bit of denial.

My BABY will be turning four this week. Madness, I tell you. We celebrated with family yesterday evening after a flurry of playoff games amidst the boys in the fam. There was fruit, cheese, chips & salsa, penne alfredo, ravioli lasagna, rotini marinara*, salad, broccoli, garlic bread with cheese, and vanilla buttercream cake topped with blueberries.

Nobody went hungry.

We are still in school around here and the busy-ness is in full swing. The weather is stunning, however– 70s by day, 50s by night– and I’m cherishing these wonderful days!

Here’s the plan for this week:

Sunday:

Breakfast (for the littles before 7:30am Mass)–Cheerios, Mixed Fruit

Brunch–Broccoli, Mushroom, & Cheese Breakfast Burritos

D–Leftovers (or kids eat free night at Chili’s– we’ll see how the day goes!)

Monday:

B–Vanilla Coconut Oatmeal, Strawberries, Milk 

D–Homemade SpaghettiOs with Franks, Green Breans

Tuesday:  

B–PB Raisin Toast, Milk

D–Baked Potato Bar w/ broccoli, cheese, ham, etc. (Only 2 out of 5 of us really like potatoes, but the rest of us will deal.)

Wednesday: (G’s 4th– all meals at the request of the birthday girl.)

B–Lucky Charms, Blueberries, Watermelon, Milk

L–Cheesy Beans & Rice w/ Ranch, Strawberries, Pineapple

D–PB&J, Tomato Slices, Ranch Chips

Thursday: 

B–Mocha Mint Oatmeal, Pineapple, Juice

D–BBQ Hot Dogs, Corn Bread, Broccoli (date night!)

Friday:

B–Watermelon Lime Slush, Toast

D–Ham & Chicken Pizza

Saturday:

B–Egg Sandwiches, Blueberries, Yogurt

D–Pigs in Blankets, Corn

And that’ll take care of it!

Sigh… birthdays. So bittersweet. Honestly, I think it’s harder to watch my kids get older than it is to get older myself! What do you think?

*Our eight-year-old, for who knows what reason, kept calling the rotini marinara “redneck screw” last night… and I was DYING. Dying, I tell you. 

Menu Plan: Fabulous 4 (?!) is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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• “My husband told me not to follow this whole maxi dress fad– that the style didn’t suit my petite frame.”
• “My husband would never let me wear that type of bathing suit– it’s too revealing.”
• “My husband told me to wear a bikini so he can show me off.”
• “My husband made me promise to never dye my hair again.”
• “My husband never wants me to let my brown roots show.”
• … I could go on.

These are all things I hear from women I encounter. Sometimes, the wives seem amused by the remarks, sometimes offended. Usually, they comply with the wishes expressed, but they don’t always seem thrilled about it.

I have no idea what that’s like, to be honest.

It’s not that my husband doesn’t have opinions– of course he does. He has told me that he hopes I’ll never go jet black with my hair, for example. And he’s not a fan of me having all my business hanging out for the world to see (not that this is a style I reach for, but, just sayin’.)

There are outfits that I wear that my husband loves. There are outfits that I wear that he doesn’t love. And that is okay.

Since the time we started dating, my hair has been blonde, auburn, brown, strawberry blonde, and all the various combinations thereof. Does he like some more than others? I suppose. But he doesn’t get all bent out of shape about it. It’s only hair. And, well, it’s my hair. And that is okay.

My husband is both proud of my body and proud of my choices– so, when I reach for a Lands End tankini, he respects it. Not because I need to “cover up” and not because I need to “show it off.” Because it looks cute and does the job. And that is okay.

Different relationships have different dynamics. And, of course, that is okay.

But I love that I married a man who respects my choices and acknowledges my ability to make them for myself.

How do I love thee? Choices. is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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The service was quiet. There weren’t all that many people in the church that day.

We were sitting behind them by a bit. Their baby had been really good throughout the whole thing. But then, all of a sudden, she wasn’t. Not that she wasn’t good. But she wasn’t quiet. She started to fuss. Squirm. Protest.

This didn’t bother me. I’ve raised babies. And you know what? Babies fuss. I’m still always happy to see them at church.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him reach for it. Sophie. Are you all familiar with Sophie? Sophie is essentially a pricey little baby chew toy doohickey that is the.hot.thing for tiny ones these days. My kids survived their babyhoods without them, but I’ve yet to see one in of the under-one set without one lately.

Anyway, another thing you should know about Sophie the giraffe is that she squeaks– a lot.

So I saw it. Saw him reach for Sophie to hand to his baby girl. And, even in my mind, I thought, “Oh, no. Don’t do it, Dad…”

He did it.

SQUEAK! SQUEAKITY SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEEEEEEAAAAAKKKK!!!

Turns out Sophie is far more annoying and distracting than any baby.

But that’s not what this is about. It’s about what ensued after. Because, especially if you’re married, I think you’ll understand this all too well…

She looked at him. The mom, that is. And her eyes said it all. I probably should have looked away, but I kind of couldn’t. I watched the argument unfold without a single word passing through their lips…

Her: What were you thinking?

Him: What?

Her: Seriously? Sophie?

Him: I don’t know. It seemed like a plan. I was trying to fix the fussing.

Her: A squeaky toy? Are you CRAZY?

Him: Hey, I’m just trying to help.

Her: You need to get it away. You need to make this stop.

Him: Um. I’m not doing that. She’s gonna freak.

Her: Do it. DO. IT.

Him: (makes an attempt)

Baby: WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Him: (aborts attempt) Yeah, I’m not doing that again.

Her: I can’t believe this…

And… people? It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing. Because, seriously, how funny is it that we can argue with our eyes like that? How amazing is it that we can convey that much emotion with glances and eye rolls and narrowed eyes and raised brows?

Fighting with your eyes. It’s one of those marriage skills no one tells you about.

A Marriage Skill No One Tells You About is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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I hate to be late.

My son has been known to joke, “Mom would rather be an hour early than five minutes late.” He’s not entirely wrong.

I hate to be late.

Since I’m pretty organized about getting myself and the children ready, I usually feel on top of these things. I allow abundant time for the potty and sips of water and snacks and shoe-tying. This is not my first rodeo.

But sometimes I forget how much little eyes can discover. I forget how little hands are drawn to buttercups. I forget that dancing butterflies can quickly distract one from the path. I forget that a newly formed puddle merits exploration.

“C’mon, c’mon, guys! Let’s go– we’ll be late!”

I hate to be late.

And they hustle. “Okay, Mommy!” Resilient, sweet little souls, they happily abandon their discoveries to prance on to the car with their mama. They know I’ve got this time thing down.

And that I hate to be late.

It was Sunday afternoon and we had baseball practice. I’d sent them all on out to the car ahead of me with instructions to leave the doors open until I got there– it was hot out. I grabbed my purse, slipped on my flip-flops, and tossed a quick goodbye over my shoulder.

We had ten minutes– the perfect amount of time to get to the ballfield. He’d be right on time and the girls and I wouldn’t be sitting around for a bunch of extra minutes. Perfect.

I skipped over to strap her in her car seat. And I saw.

She was in her seat. She’d even slipped her arms in like I’d taught her, just waiting for me to latch it. But her wide green eyes were filled with tears.  One silky brown braid was stuck to a damp cheek. Her rosy lower lip quivered.

“Sweetheart, what’s WRONG?” I asked her.

The tears fell in earnest then.

“I forgot it,” she sobbed. “You told me it was my job to remember it, but I forgot it.”

It’s such a little thing, really, that purple backpack. She thinks she’s hot stuff when she packs it up with treasures and toys to share with her friends at baseball practice. She chooses the contents so very carefully and bounces with excitement when she talks about what they’ll play with the wide array of items.

Nine minutes.

I hate to be late.

And I wiped her cheeks. I realized I had a chance to do something right here. I had a chance to let go of my pride in “never being late” and offer a little grace to a sweet little girl who realized she had done what I so often do myself– she’d simply forgotten something.

“Well, I guess you’d better run back in and get it then,” I told her.

Her already big eyes grew wider. “I can get it?”

“You can get it.”

And she scampered up our front steps, pigtails flying.

We were late to practice.

I still hate to be late.

But, when it comes to questions of eternal significance, I’m willing to answer, “And, were you ever late?” with…

“Yes. And I made a three-year-old’s day.”

I hate to be late. is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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Happy Monday!

I’ll be back to “People Who’ve Made Me Who I Am” very, very soon– I have a great one in the works about an important person in A’s life.

In the meantime, however, I wanted to jump way, WAY back in time. Over seven years back in time, in fact– well before I ever even thought of starting this-here blog.

Still, I wrote. And I wrote for an audience. Through the medium of a CaringBridge page, I shared our journey. Today, I thought it’d be fun to take you back in time with me. Just to give you a tiny taste of what our NICU time was like, here are the entries from a period of two days. This was when C. was just about a week old…

•  
• Written Jan 2, 2006 12:18pm
  Things are going well here. C. gained weight for the second day in a row and continues to do well with her feedings!! We’ll keep you updated as we have more news.

   
• Written Jan 2, 2006 10:15pm
  hello, everyone! well, c. is just over 1 lb 6 oz at the moment and we’re hoping that number goes up tomorrow! she struggled with her very low ventilator settings last night so they’ve upped them a little bit and she’s resting and breathing comfortably. they refer to this as the “preemie roller coaster” and it seems to be a very real phenomena. it’s hard to face the ups and downs but all her nurses (who are amazing by the way) assure us that she is still doing amazingly well for a preemie… a micro-preemie no less! she’s snuggled into pink flannel right now and seems to be having sweet dreams. we thank God for our beautiful children every day. (speaking of a, he’s a real trooper through all this… especially considering the poor guy’s teething right now!) we’ll update as soon as we can!

   

• Written Jan 3, 2006 3:41pm

  well, today is one of those down days on the preemie roller coaster… little c. seems to be sick and they’re not sure if it’s pneumonia or a blood infection. this is par for the course for preemies and they are treating her with some strong antibiotics and working hard to make it easier for her to breathe and relax. she’s been temporarily taken off of breast milk to allow her whole little system to relax. it’s been recommended to us that we place our hands very gently on her– that this is calming. we’re trying to stay optimistic and are just glad she is in very capable hands. thank you all for your continuing prayers…

   
• Written Jan 4, 2006 11:45am
  they seem to have determined that c. has a bacterial infection which they continue to treat. she’s stable and doing o.k. it’s just a wait and see game now. she’ll have her 2nd head ultrasound today to make sure she has no intercranial bleeding and they also have to do a spinal tap to ensure there is no infection in her spine. i have been assured this is actually an easy process with a little baby. keep the prayers coming anyway, please! her weight is at 590 grams, which is pretty much what we expected, so that’s ok. hopefully, she’ll resume breast milk feeds tomorrow…

   
•  
• Written Jan 4, 2006 11:18pm
• just a really quick update on c’s head ultrasound– the small bleed that they picked up last week seems to be going away on its own. they will continue to monitor it, but it looks like there are no problems there which is a huge relief! she’s hanging in there and working on getting over her infection. a. is hanging in there and working on getting some teeth! we are blessed with two beautiful, strong children.

Roller coaster, indeed.

“My Story… ” Monday: Flashback is a post from: Parenting Miracles

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