The Wonders of One-on-One

Since Alexa started school in August, Spencer and I have been left to our own devices on weekday mornings before he naps. I admit that I feared that without Spencer's beloved older sister and playmate around, we'd be a little bit bored trying to figure out how to pass the time. But there has been no shortage of fun and funny little moments together, and it's truly been wonderful getting some one-on-one time with this handsome little prince.

 Sometimes we...

...eat apples and play at the train table.

Or we...

...build a fort, and then...

 ...sit around taking pictures of each other taking pictures of each other.

Then there are the days when we...

...get an early start on dinner, and

...eat some delicious cinnamon toast for lunch.

And of course, there are the myriad moments in which Spencer lounges around watching multiple episodes of "Chuck the Truck" whilst I clean the house.

I know I don't make the best of every minute, and, in my haste to get things done while the girls are at school, I don't always interact as much as I should with him. But have to say that my favorite times are when I stop whatever "important things" I am doing and sit with this beautiful boy for a few beautiful moments, and concentrate on being nothing more than a mommy to him.

Because the house will always get messy again. But he'll never go back to being little.

Stalling: The Sport of the Future

My children are all such unique individuals, with a varying array of talents, interests, quirks, strengths, and weaknesses. They are very much their own people--so much so, that sometimes I have to wonder who these cute little strangers living in my house are at all. (And why they don't spontaneously clean up after themselves. Or ever stop eating.) I never know who is going to say what, or who is going to eat what, or who is going to come up with an interesting solution to a problem, or get completely caught up for hours in a project/design/playscape of his or her own making.

Their individuality and distinct personalities are what add spice and beauty to my frazzled life, and I love them for it.

But there is one area in which they are all fairly predictable, and that is in the bedtime arena. Or, more specifically, in the Semi-Professional Stalling at Bedtime arena.

Ah, yes...bedtime. That difficult, not-quite-golden span of moments in which exhausted parents use all of their remaining powers of the day to coax, coerce, plead, and threaten their children into staying still and quiet for the next several consecutive hours. That nightmare within an almost-dream when the day's clock has all but run out, and the only thing preventing parents from succumbing to complete despair is the tantalizing idea that soon, very soon, they might rest their weary bones for a minute and have some fleeting but beautiful time to themselves.

It is, in essence, the best and worst time of the day.

My children, (owing to their shared genes, I imagine), all share an excellence in the sport of bedtime stalling. Once either parent indicates that it is time for bed, the stalling tactics begin in earnest for each of them. And yet, they all maintain their own personality and uniqueness in the way that they stall. They've each cornered their own particular market and, in varying intensity and degrees, stall in their own very special, very individual way.

Allow me to illustrate.

First we have Child #1: The Procrastinating Staller



Now, I'm not sure how much thought Julia puts into this beforehand, or if she is genuinely caught off guard each time, but somehow, almost every mention of bedtime to our oldest beautiful child elicits a last-minute cry into the homescape: "But I didn't finish my homework!" Or, "I still have to finish that chapter!" Or, "Daddy didn't help me with that math page yet!"

Lectures on responsibility, accountability, and time-management notwithstanding, many a bedtime has been successfully delayed for Julia because she put something off that needed to be done in the early afternoon, and conveniently forgot about it until the clarion call of bedtime was sounded. Score 1 for the redhead.

Next there's Child #2: The Thoughtful Staller

 Leave it to Savanna to utilize thoughtfulness in her bedtime stalling antics. This girl, after scriptures, stories, hugs, kisses, and "things" (an elaborate exchange of regular kisses, butterfly kisses, nose rubs, forehead smooches, cheek rubs, and finger and elbow fluttering), always manages to find some reason to come out of her room to do something nice for someone. Three to five times every night, I exasperatedly ask Savanna why on earth she isn't in bed yet. (Or why she has gotten out of bed after already being in it.) Her answers vary from, "I'm getting water for Daddy!" to, "I wanted to wipe off the counter for you," to "I'm just bringing Spencer his blankie." Whatever it is, it's for someone else, and it always keeps her out of bed for just a few minutes longer.

Well played, Savanna, well played.

Then there's Child #3: The Tired and Scared Staller

Regardless of what she has just been doing--playing, or watching TV, or running around like a crazy person--the minute the bedtime word is spoken, this girl is suddenly too tired to make any effort at all to actually go to bed.

"Lexa, go get jammies on."

"But I'm tired!"

"Lexa, did you brush your teeth?"

"No! I'm SO tired!"

"Lexa let's go upstairs and get to bed."

"But I CAN'T. I'm just too tired!"

Once we plow through her feigned exhaustion to accomplish all of the requisite tasks (which usually means that one of us is actually putting her pajamas on, brushing her teeth for her, and carrying her upstairs), the scared portion of stalling begins:

"Ever since I was three, I just always have bad dreams!"

"I can't fall asleep because I can't stop thinking of scary things!"

"I'm scared of the dark so I can't go to bed by myself!"

Getting through this portion of the stalling involves prayers for good dreams and bedside cuddling, in addition to making sure the night-light is in place, her bedroom door is cracked open, and the hall light is on. Then I slowly sneak away waiting for her to call me back because a) we forgot to do kisses through the window of her bunk bed, or b) there is no ice in her water.

And, lo and behold, it's taken 15 to 20 minutes to put this kid to bed. 

Of course, bringing up the rear, is Child #4: The Artful Dodger & Angry Staller

Say the words "night-night time" to Spencer, and he is off like a rocket. We chase him so that we can put his pajamas on. We chase him so that we can brush his teeth. And then, if we leave his room for one second to say, throw a diaper in the bathroom trash, we chase him down the hallway to which he has invariably escaped, and carry him screaming back to the confines of his room. (This is where the angry part kicks in.) Once he realizes he can no longer escape, he gets mad. Mad about the pajama shirt that he is wearing. Mad that Daddy instead of Mommy (or Mommy instead of Daddy) is putting him to bed. Mad that he doesn't get to read one more book. Mad that he can't find a certain truck to sleep with. Mad that you kissed him, and hugged him, and walked out of the room and left him in it.

Props to you, little man, for paying attention and learning some tricks from your big sisters. (And thank goodness you wake up happy, 'cause you sure go to bed angry.)

We have, in some form or another, been putting kid/kids to bed for ten and a half years. You would think we'd be better at this. You would think that our system by now would be so flawless that each and every bedtime would go off without so much as a peep of dissent from these little loves. You would think that we would have it down by now. But you would be wrong.

Because in the end, the reality is that:

Four kids, with

Four incredibly distinct personalities. and

Four ingenious strategies to delay the inevitable, 

(Night. After night. After night)

Just adds up to 

Two very tired parents

who go to bed 

with smiles on their faces 

because they have survived

to put their kids to bed 

yet another day.

Pillow Talk

I sure love this guy. But, much to my chagrin, he is not a night-time chatter like I am. Growing up sharing a room with Laura, our evenings were almost invariably spent talking way past our bedtimes and well into the night until we had to force ourselves (through ridiculous methods) to stop talking and finally go to sleep.

If I'm lucky, Craig's and my night-time talking routine involves a prayer, a "goodnight," and maybe (just maybe) a couple sentences about our day. But mostly, once we say goodnight, Craig is off the clock and out of reach for the rest of the night. My brain doesn't shut down quite as quickly, so while the day's events are still going through my head, and I keep remembering things that I need to tell him about, he's already heavy with sleep, snoozing away without a care in the world.

Last night went as usual. After saying goodnight, I told him to remind me about something that my mom and I had talked about on the phone that day.

He said, "Do you want to just tell me about it now?"

"Nah," I said. "I'm tired, so I'll just tell you tomorrow. But if I'm not asleep in five minutes, I'll tell you then."

His response: "Well, I'm going to be asleep in two, so you'll probably be talking to yourself."

True. And it wouldn't be the first time, either.

The Last Frontier (Part 2)

Just what you've been waiting for: the cruise ship saga continues.

Sunday was our first at-sea day, so we went to the gym in the morning, explored the ship, then putzed around for most of the day.  {Have you ever tried to run on a treadmill that happens to be on-board a moving cruise ship? Super, super fun. Especially when you have almost no experience being on a treadmill. Or a cruise ship, for that matter.} 

After running, exploring, and putzing, we got gussied up and headed out to the fancy restaurant for dinner, then to a comedy show. This was a) the only night we dressed up and b) the only picture we took all day. 

On Monday morning, we woke up to a cold and gray morning in Ketchikan, Alaska, whose claim to fame, besides being the "Salmon Capital of the World," is their average annual rainfall is 154.6 inches. {The average in Phoenix is 8.04 inches, just FYI.) It was coldish, but not freezing, and it was, miraculously, not raining. We spent some time exploring and buying souvenirs for my lovies before we headed over to our Crab Fishing experience, which was as cool as it sounds

View from the top. (Of the ship, that is.)

A jacket in September. That's what I'm talking about.

This was my view while I talked to Craig and Spencer after not having

 a cell signal for two days. Hearing their voices was like candy to my ears.

I probably would've talked longer if I had realized that I wasn't

 going to get a decent signal in any of the other ports we stopped in.

Come on, Alaska, get with the program.

So pretty to look at. Thank goodness you can't smell it from here.

It was kind of funny to see the giant cruise ship in the same harbor as these tiny boats.

Then again, maybe it's not so big. I mean, I can fit it between my fingers.

The only disappointment of the morning was that the local Salvation Army
thrift store didn't open in time for us to peruse before our awesome tour.
Sigh. I bet there were some treasures in that place.

I think this is what a "sunny" day in Ketchikan looks like.

The best part of the day was our Crab Fisherman tour. Some crab boat owner had the genius idea of turning a commercial crab-fishing boat into a tourist experience, which means he gets lots of revenue without having to put anyone's life at risk. Pretty smart, eh? So, in our stadium seats, under overhead heating lamps, whilst sipping hot chocolate, we got a "real" crab fishing experience.

This boat was actually on Season 2 of "Deadliest Catch," you know. 

And since I have now been on said boat, that means I'm practically famous.

The captain stopped at a few places so the crew could pull out different
kinds of ocean life for us to look at or touch, including a squishy octopus that
squirted ink as soon as it was dropped into the tank. I declined holding
one of these creepy looking prawn guys, but Linda was feeling adventurous.

I mean, seriously. The view was like looking at a postcard.

Octopus, crab, and Discovery Channel celebrities, oh my!

And guess what? I even got to {pretend} throw the hook.

After the tour we headed back to the cruise ship parking lot, climbed aboard the lovely Norwegian Jewel, and got into our jammies for the rest of the day. {Cuz that's what you do on a party ship when you have a cold and don't drink alcohol.}

Hold your breath...Juneau what's next?

Sound Advice

After reminding Alexa tonight that she needs to be polite during her Grandma date tomorrow {and also not ask her for a million things}, she had this to say: 

"Having good manners is the most important thing. And, mixing two ingredients: love and respect."

That's right, girlie. Just don't forget to act that way with your sisters, too!

Tuesday Trash Day

Sometimes on Tuesday mornings, we sit around in our pajamas, crack the living room window, and listen while the trash truck makes its rounds around the neighborhood. When we hear it getting close, we run to the front window and watch our trash get swallowed up. Then we run to the side window and watch our neighbors' trash get picked up. Then we wave goodbye to the trash truck. 

When the recycling truck comes around, we repeat the process.

Tuesdays are cool. And trash trucks are cool.

(And so are little boys who love to watch them.)

The Last Frontier (Part 1)

Craig and I have a deal worked out where we alternate taking a trip with his mom ever year(ish). Last summer, Craig and Julia went to Hawaii with his mom, and a couple years before that, I had gone to Hawaii with her, as well. This year it was my turn again, and though the original plan was to bring Savanna along, it didn't end up working out because by the time we got the trip planned, school had already started. (She'll get a turn next time, though, I promise.) Since it is so darn hot here this time of year, we decided to do a colder climate this time to get a break from the heat. Alaska came to mind as we explored our options, and we finally settled on doing a week-long cruise that took us from Seattle, along the southeast Alaskan coast, with a final stop in Canada on our way back to Seattle.

It was cold. It was very cold. (We certainly got the break we were looking for.)

The first day (Saturday) was mostly consumed with getting to the airport at a ridiculously early hour, flying to Seattle, getting to the cruise ship and standing in lots of long lines to get ourselves and our luggage checked in. We had a little bit of time to kill in Seattle, but since we were lugging giant suitcases around like we were on a mission transfer, we decided to just get right on the ship and not see any of the sights. (Luckily for me, I got to see lots of cool stuff when I was in Seattle in July, otherwise, I probably would have been disappointed.) We didn't leave port until the afternoon so all there was to do that day was eat a yummy lunch and take a nap until the lifeboat drill. (Yes, there was lots and lots of napping on this trip. And also reading. It was divine.)

After that, we were still pretty exhausted from traveling and pulling suitcases around, so we called it a day and went to bed early like responsible (and very tired) adults.

The hour of booty early sure makes for some lovely sunrises

I have one word: MASSIVE

killing a few minutes before checking in

Beautiful Seattle

I have one word: teeny

The room was small but it was perfect for our needs. Napping, reading, and 

watching television on our at-sea days were all accomplished very comfortably.

Cruise ships are not for the claustrophobic, I'll tell you that much.

Stay tuned for Ketchikan, our first port!