The Parianos Christmas 2012

We had a wonderful Christmas this year! It wasn't hectic or hurried. It was beautifully intimate and filled with the love of family. The house was filled with the laughter of children. Our tummy's were filled with yummy food. Our hearts were filled with joy. We are most certainly blessed. Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year from our home to yours.

Untethered

I am not sure the exact moment that it happens but, I can tell you when it opened in me. The gradual and silent unfolding of love that occurs when we become mothers. It's an ironic thing really. The more that our love for our child grows and blossoms, the less they need us. It is a slow and deliberate dance that plays out, not in seconds but in fleeting moments that connect our hearts to our brain in the most delicate of fashions.

I am a shadow of the woman I was before motherhood changed me. I would sit and caress my belly at night. Just a small amount of fascia that separated my baby and I. I would dream and hope and picture his life as I thought it would be. Then he was born, placed on me and we locked eyes. My heart swelled with a feeling I had never felt before. A love so addicting that the rest of the world could have stopped and I wouldn't have noticed. His needs are urgent and fierce. My desires become clouded and my priorities shift.

The instinctual grasp of motherhood tethers me to him. He is walking now. I see a glimmer in his eyes as he walks away from me and I realize that I need to become accustomed to letting go. I silently gasp when he falls and wait for his reaction. He looks to me still, to be his compass. I am just now,  learning what this means. I wrap him up inside my protective gaze and I will the world to be gentle to him, to treat him fairly.

Each time he smiles I feel it happening. He tells me "I wuv you Mama". The gaping, unbarred heart of mine is raw and exposed. He has feelings now. Anger and frustration abound because he does not yet have the skills to communicate his robust and unyielding awareness of the world. His pain is mine. He gets sick and I physically hurt for him. His laughter and merriment are infectious. We play. We sing. I rock him to sleep each night at my breast. We are connected in a way I never knew possible.

He storms off with a burrowed brow. Stomping his feet and flailing his arms with a tempered and hostile manner. His words sting. "I hate you mama!" I knew this day would come. I remind myself that he wouldn't share such feelings if he did not feel safe with me. His wrath cools and he's in my lap, stroking my face. Butterfly kisses and salty cheeks. I am his soft place, his island of safety. The world pulls him further and I let go a little more. All the while, I am evolving. The gaping abyss of my most inner self is forced to spread out. The expectations I had before are expansive and always altering with each new stage in his life.

I tickle his back while he ponders the calamities of the world. He is filled with questions, some of which, I myself don't know the answer to. He is a boy of 12. Remnants of his baby self come out when he is frustrated. The pull of manhood is on the horizon. As he navigates the world, all it takes is one look from him and I know what's in his heart most days. Other times, I feel lost and helpless. His emotions become stronger than he is. At times, I want to wrap him in my arms and quiet his mind but, he won't let me. I worry for him. He is susceptible. I muster a strength in me I didn't know I had. I assure him that this too shall pass. It is a right of passage. This time in life is filled with wonderment, if only he will stay open to it. I try to impart the tools he will need. I try...

He walks toward me and envelopes me in his powerful yet tender arms. He is man now. His face lacks the roundness that I remember. In it's place, there are sharp edges and prominent features. My insides swell with pride. He assures me that he is all right, that he's doing well. My love for him is a great chasm that is ever changing. It's a precipice, a gaping and expanding mix of emotions that are ingrained into the deepest part of me. He changed me. His love changed me. Life's meaning and purpose are engrossed in my expectations of what he will become. We embrace and lock eyes and I am, once again, unfolded, encircled, enveloped, entwined, untethered. Such is the life of a mother.

HOW I (DON'T), (CAN'T), (WON'T) DO IT ALL......

When I tell people that I home school four kids I always get the same look from others. I am sure other home school parents or SAHM's can relate to this. The person looks at me and their eyes get a little wider and they stare at me as if I am a magical flying unicorn. "Oooooh how nice. I could NEVER do that! You must be so organized and patient". To that, I always just smile and nod. The truth is, I don't "do it all". If the sweet lady who I was having this conversation with stopped looking at me and paid attention to my 11 year old's mismatched shoes or the fact that he may or may not have fuzzy stuff on his teeth from not brushing them this morning, then she might  grasp how silly of a notion that is. Motherhood, in all it's glory, is a messy business. People like myself, with several children, have to learn to lower our expectations. We have to learn to embrace noise and chaos and messiness. If we don't, we might just go nuts.

Let's take cleaning, for instance. I clean under pressure. I do not do good work unless there is some kind of incentive for me to mop or dust. I think most of my mommy friends can relate to this: I look around my home. It's a mish mosh of toys and clothes strewn about. I call a friend and ask them to come over in two hours for a "playdate" which is code for "mommy needs grown up conversation"(ok, I need time in there to chug a coffee!)= CLEAN, sparkling house!!!(forget that there's clothes thrown under the bed. One must learn to lower her expectations about these types of things). The best part about this is, we all say, as our friend is walking in the door "oh, excuse the mess" as if this is the dirty version of our home. The truth is, there's still a pile of laundry taller than me in the laundry room. Why do you think they put doors in a house? Why, it's to hide some of our mess, of course!

Now let's discuss exercise. I confess, I used to be a gym rat! I would go and drop my kids off at school and work out for two hours, maybe even more. You could have easily ,mistaken my ass for a 20 year olds ass. It was pretty nice, I must admit. Then, I began home schooling and had my fourth child. Now, exercise goes something like this:
9pm- put kids and baby to sleep.
9:30- get kids school work ready for the next day.
9:45pm-12am- end up on Pinterest looking for cool science experiments to do with the kids, then chat with friends via FB because I am starved for adult conversation.
12:30am- roll into bed, being sure to be extra quiet so as not to wake up the sleeping baby.
12:31am- promptly fall asleep
12:35am- massive fail!!! Baby hears my snoring(there, I said it, I snore!) and begins to cry. I pick him up and bring him into bed to nurse.
1:15am- baby wakes up due to teething and will only sleep if rocked and nursed.
1:45am- put baby down to sleep and crawl back into bed "vewy, vewy quwietwy"( that's my impression of the looney tunes character who likes to hunt "wabbits")
4:30am- baby wakes up to nurse and promptly poops. I must physically wake up to change the baby and then more rocking back to sleep.
5am- baby is sound asleep and I am wide awake so I get up.
5:30am- I go for a walk to get in my exercise while my two eldest sons wake up and begin fighting. They call me repeatedly to break up their arguments over Pokemon cards. I hear actual violence so I rush home after 10 minutes.
I might have actually worked out for a total of 15 minutes! My butt sure as heck does not look like a 20 year olds anymore! Now, when I see people posting on FB that they are working out(something I used to do a lot), I become irritated and decide that they must be vain!

The thing is, I realize that I can't do it all. My kids and I might take off a day of home schooling just to clean our house once in a while.. We might eat oatmeal for dinner. If we're lucky, we might all take showers a few times a week. My kids may or may not wear their clothes to bed then get up and go to home school coop. The dust bunnies in my home may actually begin mating to make a "dust bunny family". Lastly, I may finally end up going for a walk but, I most likely will be noshing on a doughnut while I'm doing it! I have come to realize and accept that life IS messy. For those of you that have a super clean house and kids who are wearing matching clothes, I may just look at you like you are a magical flying unicorn next time I see you...

Home Schooling During the Holidays...

As a busy mom of four, I am often intrigued by the many blogs I read about home schooling. It always seems like I never have the time to do all the fun and exciting things that others get to do. I'm not complaining so much as I am in awe. We are planning on working hard over the next 13 days and then will take "off" from our typical workbox work. I am excited to approach things in an "unschooley"(is that a word?) type fashion for about three weeks. I hope to do science experiments, drink hot cocoa and see Christmas lights(I promise to use sippy cups or something with a cover. This is for my hubby, who is neurotic about keeping our van clean), make ornaments, practice random acts of kindness and read a few good books together. I wonder if I can do all of that in just three short weeks? We are having family come and I also need to find a way to do Christmas shopping with all four kids home with me all the time(A new challenge, as my kids were in public school last year).

So, let me pose this question to you: "How do home school during the Holidays?" 

I need advice and hand-holding through this. If you wouldn't mind sharing, you would be doing me a huge favor. Thanks in advance & Happy Holidays from our house to yours....

-Jenn

Hand Made Gifts Are Made With Love...

As I sit here and rock my baby to sleep, my mind wanders off to planning this Holiday season. I have decided to make home made gifts this year. I am not talking about useless coasters either. I have some special ideas in mind for my dear friends & family.
The best part about this is that I can include the children in my gift making.
How special for them to learn about the joy one gets from making something for those we love. I am also excited about using fresh organic ingredients. The children can help print out labels and write sweet sentiments on each of the gifts.
What kinds of things do you like to do for Christmas? Are there crafts that you enjoy doing as a family? What's your thought on home made gifts? This will be our first year attempting this. Please send prayers & positive thoughts as this crazy homeschooler is a far cry from a domestic Goddess! This will truly be a labor of love...
Happy Holidays from our house to yours!
- Jenn Parianos

COOTIE

And this is what makes all my sleep deprivation worth while..

Night From Hell...

So, judging by the title of this blog I'm sure you've ascertained that it's a horror story. It actually is a horror story but, not the kind you are used to hearing. This is a different breed all together. There's no blood and gore but, I assure you, sleep deprivation is a scary thing. It's used as a form of torture for soldiers in training and with good reason! It messes you up! If you have any friends with baby fever, just email them this blog entry. It should cure it right up!
Ok, so here it goes. My night from HELL:
We have family in town visiting and so our normal routine has gone out the window this week. Who knew that an 8 month old child could possibly sense this? These little humans have spidey senses. They can sense when things are "off". My sister in law is visiting. She is also my wee sons Godmother. Let me just say that if you wanted to witness pure and delirious love, just watch my sister- in- law with my infant son. She would probably have sucked his little cheeks right off his face if I would've let her this week. She is completely and utterly in love with my son. She also came to visit when my baby boy was 2 months old. To help me, she rocked my little angel to sleep by gently swaying and humming. He remembers this, because babies are like elephants and can recall ALL kinds of things that we are not aware of. Their brains are like sponges or something, or so I've read. Ok, so back to the night in question. My baby boy not only has an excellent memory but, I've discovered that he is somewhat passive aggressive. He doesn't cry when he sees me walk into a room and he wants me to hold him. No, not my boy! He moans while giving my eye-daggers then promptly bites the poor unsuspecting victim who's holding him! Remember the biting thing because we will come back to it again.
So, last night we decided to watch a movie at midnight. Why not? We can sleep when we are dead! Carpe Diem and all that jazz... I never said I was the brightest candle on the cake now did I?
 Anywho, so my baby went to bed at 9:30pm and then awoke, as usual, at midnight to nurse. "Cootie" as I like to call him, is like clockwork. He has a routine and as a parent who believes in attachment parenting, I have followed my baby's lead on when he eats and sleeps. Never the less, it was a good routine. UNTIL....he woke up at midnight and instead of going back to sleep, sensed that we were all wide awake and followed suit. Cootie was bright eyed and bushy tailed until 2am, when we all went to bed. Only, he was so wound up that he wouldn't fall asleep nursing next to me like usual. No, he wanted to be rocked and hummed to... If I tried to lay him next to me to nurse he would BITE ME. He wouldn't break the skin but, let me assure you that even with only three teeth, a gentle bite on your nipples feels like a baby shark is nursing! You might be wondering right about now how I knew that my wee lamb wanted to be coddled and rocked and hummed to. I knew because if I held my baby boy in the cradle position, he would physically move himself left to right while humming to HIMSELF! If I stopped humming he would begin to hum but, in a very aggressive manner and give me the stink eye. A few times I felt myself dozing off while humming. What woke me from this relaxed state was a a little "shark nip" administered by little "Cootie". This fun little dance went on and on for what seemed like hours. Finally, he fell asleep. This is where things got tricky. You see, as a mom, I've learned to develop special talents. Get your mind out of the gutter....not "THOSE" kinds of talents! No, special abilities that only moms seem to comprehend. Putting my wee lamb down in his bed without waking him is a very delicate situation. When you have rocked and hummed and have been bitten numerous times, you have worked too hard to have all of it just thrown down the drain! So, you must place the baby in his bed in a particular way. There is no breathing during these few moments so it helps if you have a diving certificate from your pre-baby days. You can practice this skill when you take baths by holding your breath while using an egg timer. The key is to learn to be completely motionless WHILE imparting a feeling of comfort and warmth to your infant. It sounds much easier than it actually is. It takes practice & experience. Thankfully, as a mom of four, I have had that, so I was able to get my Cootie into his bed, which is right next to mine, in a matter of seconds.
Then, this is the other tricky part, I had to some how crawl into my bed without the motion waking him up. Once again, practice is key here. Doing drills with your husband may help. Also, playing hide and go seek in the dark with your other children can be useful to hone in on your special "mommy talents". Speaking of my husband, you might be wondering where he is during this everlasting night. He layed down at 2:00am and was in dreamland promptly by 2:02am. You see, fathers don't seem to notice when there is movement or sound in the room. I think they must have dull senses because they have to be able to sleep through their very own LOUD, bomb-like snoring. They all seem to be extremely heavy sleepers. For some reason, they don't hear the baby crying. I often wonder, as I am sitting there nursing my baby for the 15th time by 5am how the hell our offspring would survive if men could nurse. I know that it's no accident that women were given this role. Men just don't seem to notice noises at night. I on the other hand, have bat-like hearing, when I am trying to sleep. I should say, I have that kind of hearing now that I am a mother. Prebaby, I was much like my husband, sleeping peacefully despite an alarm going off for hours.
So, I crawl into my bed while I hold my breath and move without really moving, doing it in steps, so as to get comfortable. It is now 3am. My husband, who is dead to the world, does not realize we are supposed to be holding our breath so he COUGHS and snores then COUGHS again.
WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, WAAAAAAAAAHHH, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!
Cootie is up.....again. I bring him into bed with me and try to tickle his back and begin nursing him. I start to fall asleep. I think I even started to dream then..... OUCH, he nips me and starts rocking and humming HIMSELF in the bed. NO, not this again, I think to myself but, he is determined. Every time I try to fall back asleep my wee little lad keeps nipping my poor girlie bits.
So, I wake up and cuddle my baby boy in my arms and start the hhhhmmm, hhhhmmmm,hhhmmmm, rock, sway, hhhhmmm,hhhhmmmm, rock, sway.
I feel him let go. Heavy weight in my arms. It's now 3:49am. Again, I do the special holding breath thing and place him in his bassinet. I sneak into my bed with the utmost care, careful not to breath or move too much. I have to pee but, I don't care, I just decide to try and pretend that I don't. Have you ever done this while falling asleep? It's all I can think about but, I can't risk that much movement. I've worked too hard! So, out of sheer exhaustion, I start to fall asleep.
THEN, in walks my 6 year old. BABAAAAAA(daddy in Greek). BABAAAAA!!!! (6 year olds don't know that sound travels)
WAAAAAAAH, WAAAAAAAH, WAAAAAAH! (The baby wakes up)
My husband.....is.....still......snoring.
I hush my daughter and tell her to get in my bed. She starts to fall back asleep. I pick the baby up and start the rocking and humming. At this point, I am delirious. I think I may even be hallucinating because I swear I hear I cat meowing. This would be fine except we don't own any cats. I do the breath holding thing and put the baby down. I crawl into the bed and, once again, ignore the full bladder. I start to fall asleep.
COUGH, COUGH, COUGH....snore.
I wait. I hold my breath instinctively because.....well, just because.
Nothing. Whew!
I'm in the clear. My eyes are blurry but, I think the clock says 4:46am.
I close my eyes and start to allow myself to drift off.
It's quiet.
For all of a minute and a half.
"Mamaaaaaaaa, I'm thiiiiiiirsty. Can you get me some waaaaater" says my daughter.
WAAAAAAAAAH, WAAAAAAAAH, WAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!
"ZZZZZzzzzzzzz" my husband is still snoring.
This is the "Night from Hell", mommy style.

Walking the Tightrope....

I wake up to the chihuahua scratching at the covers at the end of my bed. I rub my eyes and they are dry and irritated, like sand some how crept into the corners as I slept. I glance at the clock...4:43am. I turn over and begin to try and lull myself back to sleep, beg my brain to turn off, as I try to focus on thinking about nothing. I urge my brain to "go blank". I slowly begin to fall back into dreamland as my body lets go, loses it's fight to stay awake.
Crying....I hear crying! Oh wait, I am a mother and that is my baby crying. I scoot the chihuahua to the side and go to pick up my infant son. I happen to glance at the clock. It's 4:59am. I nuzzle my sweaty little baby boy into my arms. He's a sweaty little beast, I think to myself and hug him in closer for being the little boy that he is. He nurses with vigor and growls and coos in excitement as he eats. He also grabs at my nose and digs into the softness of it. He's sharpening his new found skill of grabbing at things, I think. It feels like he's ripping my face off! Gone are the nights where I can bring him into the bed with me as we both drift back to sleep. It's like nursing "The Hulk" I think to myself. He tuckers himself out after finishing both sides and falls into the kind of sleep that only babies get to have. In this sleep, there are no worries or stress. They are truly at peace. I decide to get up and start my day. There is no turning off my brain at this point. I seek out coffee, to help remove the sand that's in my eyes.
As I sip my coffee, my 10 year old walks into the kitchen. His hair is sticking straight up and disheveled, his shirt is on backwards and inside out. I look at him and have a melancholy moment where I picture him at 3 years old, waking up, my morning boy, arms outstretched, ready to embrace me. He hugs me and gives me a half hearted smile. Sweet, sweet boy, my Andy is. He brings me his book that we are reading together. We sit on the couch and cuddle and laugh at the silliness of the book. In the back of my mind I think to myself "I am SO blessed". It's a feeling I get several times a day. I may not be rich when it comes to money but, my LOVE bank is overflowing. For this, I am grateful.
We put on our sneakers and go for a walk. The air is cool and crisp. The sun is slowly peeking over the horizon. Andy looks up and points to all the beautiful colors in the sky and says "Mama, God is here with us". I know what he means because I feel it too.We walk into the house and I see my parents sitting at the table eating their breakfast. The baby is up, sitting in his high chair. He squeals with delight at the sight of me! Next to him is my daughter, talking away to my father at a decibel used only in a circus ring. The girl does not have a quiet button. My dad keeps chiding her gently to lower her voice. She seems unaware. Out of the corner of my eye I see my oldest son. He's got his head in a book, reading fervently. I say "Good morning Nikola" in Greek. He pops his head up above the book and says "Oh, hi Mama. I'm doing my work!" This is another one of those moments for which I am grateful. My oldest child does his work without ANY help or direction from me. He enjoys learning and embraces it. I realize how lucky I am for that.
I start trying to gather my daughter into the dining room to begin her work. She's in a mood today. "Mama, I will only do two pages and THAT"S IT!" she exclaims. I start our calendar routine and am in a constant state of trying to be what I am not. I am not feeling calm yet must act that way. I must stay poker-faced and redirect her repeatedly without stressing about it. This is the balancing act, the nitty gritty of parenting that wears mothers out. I push down, push away my anger and frustration because it serves no purpose here, in this space. I am the mom & the teacher. My reaction or lack of one when she is fidgety and restless says more to her than if I make a big fuss. She isn't just learning math, she is learning how to be calm.
As I am listening to my daughter read her book to me, I hear the distinct sound of someone cutting paper. I peek into the office to see my son Andy making "art". I try to decide if I should let him finish his masterpiece or redirect him to his schoolwork. It appears that, he is just cutting up pieces up paper for the heck of it and I gently guide him to his workbox. "You can do your art when you reach box number 4." I say. Box number 4 is the break box. It's filled with a snack and a little art project. He says sweetly "yes mam". I know that this is not the only time I will be saying this to my son today. Much like with my daughter, I must remain poker faced and simply redirect. My sons attention span is that of a kitten! Only, his currency isn't string or yarn, it's art, or youtube videos. He loves music and enjoys watching music videos.
The day goes on like this. it's a mix of tiny moments of joy and laughter. What am I missing in this tender scene? Oh, yes....THE FIGHTING! THE BICKERING! Let's not forget that:
NIKOLAS: "Mama, what grade level is Andy's book?"
ME: "Why Nikola? What's the difference?"
NIKOLAS: "Well, Mama why does he get to read a comic book? I am reading "The Hobbit"!!! It's not fair!!
ANDY: "SHUT UP NIK!!!"
ALEXIA: "YOU SAID A POTTY WAAAARD ANDY!!! MAMA, AAANDY SAID A POTTY WAAARD!"
ME: "Nikolas, mind your own business. Alexia thank you for telling me and Andy, stop playing guns and SIT DOWN PLEASE AND GET BACK TO WORK!"
ELI: "WAAAAAAH, WAAAAAAAH,WAHHHHH!"
I nurse the baby and it starts again.
NIKOLAS: "Mama, how come Andy only wrote one paragraph? I wrote three! ANDYYYY, you are going to grow up and work at Mcdonald's! Mama, if he doesn't write more he's going to grow up and work at "The Circle K!!!!!!"
ALEXIA: " Mama, Nikolas is beeeeing Meeeeeaaaan to AAAAAAndy!"
ME: "Nikolas, be kind and humble please. Alexia, please come here and finish reading to me. Andy! AAAAAndddddddyyyyy, where are you?"
ANDY: (almost inaudably)" I am in my room. I will be right out. I am taking my break."
I look over and see that he's only finished one assignment. He's got 5 more to go. He's no where near his break box!!!
ME: AAAAANNNNNDDDDDYYYYY, PLEASE COME BACK AND FINISH YOUR WORK!
Andy walks in the room and looks at me sweetly. "Sorry Mama" he says with a look that melts my heart.
I push down the anger. I stand poker-faced and remain calm. I walk a tightrope because I can not freak out. I am teaching how to handle anger, not just how to add and subtract. They are watching me, always watching me, to see how to behave.
And so it goes....my day, this day, is much like any other. I am the mother. I am the home school teacher. I can not grow weary from the continuum that is my life. This is part of it. It's the nitty gritty, the meat of it. I know I am doing good work, even if it's not in plain view. The fruits of my rewards will come in time, even if I can't always see them. I walk the tightrope. "The best prize life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing"-Theodore Roosevelt

Happy Halloween!!! 2012

THE GOOD MOTHER:

The Good Mother?
If there is One universal truth that I have found to be true, it's that all moms or moms-to-be strive to be a "good mom". As I sit staring at my ever-expanding belly(I'm pregnant with my 4th child), I pondered what that really means. I have learned that there is no "right answer". From the moment I locked eyes with my first born son, I can tell you that the love I felt for him can not be put into words and that the desire to be a "good mom" started to blossom.
Motherhood means different things to different people. From the mom who works long hours so her child can attend the best schools to the mom who stays at home so she can be present for every milestone, both mothers love is immeasurable!! Over time, my definition of mothering well has evolved. It is through my own mistakes that I've learned that parenting, in and of itself, is a constantly expanding school of knowledge! When you see your two year old scream bloody murder because his day isn't going well and it mirrors the fit you threw earlier because the dog ate your shoe, you realize mothering forces you to face your own weaknesses. The daily lessons I hope to bestow on my children are the exact ones I have had to wrestle with!
There are some things that I've learned along the way that have really helped me to grow as a mom. I'd like to pass them on to anyone who might benefit from them so maybe your journey can be a little less trial and error. Some I've discovered while others are gems from mommies before me. Either way, use what's useful to you and disregard the ones that don't apply.
1) Resist the temptation to use all the fancy gadgets and hold your baby as much as possible when they're a newborn. Not only is it good for them, it's good for you too!
2) Take care of you!!! Being a good mom means being a good example. I have seen mothers who feed their baby home-made organic baby food and enroll them in infant swimming so as to keep their child healthy and fit. All the while, the mom is eating Mcdonald's and hasn't exercised since middle school gym class. Children learn about life by what YOU DO, not by what you say! Believe me when I say that they are constantly watching your every move!!! They are more inclined to do what you DO, not what you SAY.
3) We all have bad days where we are spent from a night of teething babies or temper tantrums that we simply have to get through the day. It's ok to not love the "mothering thing" sometimes! Find some good mom friends that you can call and share your fears that your sweet Mikey eats his ear wax or that your sweet Bessy has an affinity for cat poop. These women are an invaluable source of strength and reason in a world that can often be unreasonable! When you spend your days with 2 year olds, you need grown up conversations too!
4) Sleep is your friend!! Take it from a former late night( ok all night!!) teenager, you need to get enough sleep. Sure, you can get by on sleep but, I assure it catches up to you. Dealing with your colicky 3 month old while driving home from picking up your bickering school-age children is much more bearable after a 30 minute power nap! It takes some practice but, I can now fall asleep in less than 30 seconds flat!
5) When children scream that they hate you and declare that they no longer need your mothering services, it is actually code for "I need you, now more than ever!" I once was told that it is when our children push us away that they need us the most and when they depend on us too much that we should foster their independence. It is lessons like these that make me look at my own mother with such love and reverence!!
6) Bitter are the tears of a child: Sweeten them.
Deep are the thoughts of a child: Quiet them.
Sharp is the grief of a child: Take it from him.
Soft is the heart of a child: Do not harden it.
-Pamela Glenconner. One of my favorite quotes :)
7) Our children ARE NOT miniature versions of ourselves!!! Children shouldn't be born with the job to inflate your ego! They are their own beautiful, unique souls. Get to know them and learn about what makes them special.
8) Being a mom means knowing the difference between having a close and honest relationship and trying to be your kids friend. If you love your children you will have the courage to discipline them and teach them how to treat people. Trust me when I say that letting your kids do whatever they want is not a gift! Their future bosses, wives, husbands, teachers will thank you!
9) Don't be the mom that can't see her Childs faults! If my children are playing with your kids and I hear "OWIE, stop it!!!" I instantly say "what did my child do?" Maybe, they are guilty, maybe they aren't but, I will not ever be the mom who says "Oh, no not MY CHILD!" Not only does it do your kid a disservice it makes other moms frustrated if you are blind to your Childs imperfections.
10) Enjoy being a mom!! Remind yourself as you are sitting in the middle of the "tent city"(Aka your living room) that these moments are fleeting! Soon they will be moving out and you will miss the times that they still came and gave you hugs without being asked.
11) When tempers flare and you are met with rolling eyes and burrowed foreheads remember what it was like to be a child. Discipline should come from a place of love and understanding. Time-outs aren't just for the kids. Parenting is best done when we are calm enough to say things so our love comes through...not anger. Your message will sink in either way.
12) When you ask most kids what it is they want most from you...it's you!! Make time to play, cuddle, laugh and just enjoy each others company. You will never get this time back in their lives. Make it count.
13) Strive to be a good mom, not a perfect one. We all make mistakes! One of the best gifts we can give to our children is to show our vulnerability. Life is messy! When you busy yourself with aiming for perfection you miss out on what's most important.
14) If you have a strong desire to be a good mom, chances are, you already are :)

ALL IN A DAYS WORK....

The familiar glow of morning light shines through the window and I can hear his sweet baby sounds. He giggles and coos and sucks on his feet. I'm tired. I had a fitted sleep filled with hazy memories of diaper changes and midnight nursings. I roll out of bed and put on my slippers and slide on my robe. I put on the light and my baby boy sees me and his face lights up in a tender smile. It's like sunshine hitting my face on a cold day and any pang of resentment I harnessed for my lack of rest washes away in an instant. I gently pick him up and cradle him in my arms and breath in his sweet smell. He laughs with excitement, his high pitched belly laugh that makes me laugh too. I place him on the changing table and as I tend to him I become increasingly aware that I'm being watched.
I go about my business trying to act as if I don't notice them. Little hushed giggles coming from the hallway. Like a flash, my daughter comes running into my room and rushes to her baby brothers feet. She likes his feet, nibbles on them while more belly giggles fill the room. I notice my daughters outfit. She's wearing her brothers soccer shirt and his old church pants. I quietly chuckle to myself that she finds this comfortable sleeping attire. Her hair is disheveled and her eyes have that slightly droopy look that shows that she's just woken up. My son Andy walks into the room next. He immediately comes and embraces me, as he has done every morning since he was a boy, my gentle natured, cuddly son. He picks up the baby and we head out to the kitchen to start our day.
As I make my coffee out walks my son Nikolas. He's rubbing the sleep from his eyes and I notice that he's wearing his shirt backwards, his hair's sticking straight up. He wanders over to me slowly and gives me a long hug, resting his head on my shoulder, which, at eleven, he now reaches. The baby sees him and squeals in excitement, my first and last born, tied in a special bond that bridges their age difference without notice. As I sip my coffee I notice that Alexia is sitting on the kitchen floor reading a book to her dolly. She says each word, enunciating each letter slowly and carefully, taking her time. The sweet part of this scene is that she's holding the baby in a self made "baby sling", much like the one I wear most of the time. Nikolas is the first one to begin his schoolwork, doing so without me asking, making me thankful that I am blessed with a child who is self-motivated. Andy is weaving in and out of the room, hurriedly, hoping I won't notice the remote control he's taken apart. He does this "for fun" to see how it works. I ask him if he's started his work, to which he replies "I'm doing a science experiment. It counts Mama, it's science!" I decide to stop him, only because we have our weekly home school cooperative in two hours and he needs to do actual work. Before I can enter his room, he comes running out dressed up in his Halloween costume. This is funny because it's the costume he wore several years before so it's REALLY REALLY tight! This makes my mom, who's sitting at the table eating her breakfast, laugh so hard she snorts! More giggling ensues and now the baby squeals again with delight. This high pitched noise excites our chihuahua, who begins howling in a yodeling type howl, happy to contribute to her family's conversation.
Andy looks over and sees Nik doing his work so he decides to start his. He sits down at his desk and starts working. He is still in his ninja costume. As I work with Alexia on her math problems I notice that Andy is, once again, out of his seat. I call from the study "Andy, GET IN HERE, NOW!" No answer. I call again. No answer AGAIN! I mutter obscenities under my breath as I walk towards his room and BOOM!!!!!!!!! Andy, jumps from around the corner, scaring me to death! More muttered obscenities, to which Alexia chimes in from another room "Mama, you said a potty wawd!" Her odd Boston sounding accent gets me every time, and I can barely keep from laughing as I say "You are right sweetie. Mommy should not say that word." Andy now realizes it will be defcon 5 if he doesn't act like he's really taking this work thing seriously so he, still in the ninja costume, grabs a book off the bookcase and buries his nose in it, as if deeply enthralled with what's in it. Sadly for him, he fails to notice that it's a thesaurus.
I just stare across the room with a poker face. This is a far better tactic than yelling with Andy. He is a a sensitive child who, all kidding aside, wants to do well. He simply is our "class clown, and likes to start the day by making those around him smile. Andy can't read my mood so he FINALLY decides to do his work! I go to play a language arts game with Alexia, only to find her sitting at the table with ALL of her book work done! She is grinning from ear to ear, beaming with pride. I give her a great big hug and thank her for being such a "big girl". She responds by saying "No, I am and you AND daddy's big girl" then she darts off into her room, only to quickly turn around to give Eli kisses first. I go from child to child, at this point,helping them, as needed. Sometimes this means talking them through a problem, other times it simply means repeating back the question to them so they figure it out themselves. We gather our belongings and head out the door to be with friends at our weekly coop. I buckle the baby in his car seat and get in my van. As I look in my rear view mirror I see my children, all sitting quietly, looking out the window. I get a tinge of bittersweet aching in my belly for I know these times are priceless. My kids are all growing so fast. Nikolas put 's on our favorite song and we head off down the.....
HOLY BATMAN!!!! I notice that ALL the kids have on their Halloween costume.....more obscenities muttered.....more Lexi going "Mama you said a potty wawwwwwd!"
And such is a day in the life of a home school parent.
Quite frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Daddy...

The girl sat on her mothers bed, a girl of 7, with almond, brown eyes and thin, yet silky raven hair. Her feet dangled over the side of the bed as she slid closer to her mother, as if she was going to tell her a secret. She was a girl filled with questions and uncertainties. "Mommy, why doesn't daddy write to me?' she asked her mother. Her mother looked into her daughters troubled face and said the first thing that came to mind. "He doesn't have any stamps, sweetie" she says, knowing that this answer would not suffice for her curious child. The young girl began to cry. Then, since she doesn't have the words, she instinctively pulls her daughter into a tight embrace, hoping that she could ease the pain, the void that is so palpable, in her child's heart. A pain that will grow and metastasize into a bitter rage during the girls adolescent years.
That girl was me, as you may have guessed, and this conversation happened as a result of my parents divorce, when I was two years old. From the moment my mother left, my father no longer existed in my life. He signed away his rights to me, without any argument, when I was just six years old. His vacancy was felt deeply in my formative years. It just so happens that my mom met and married a wonderful man, when I was 7 years old. As I sit here today, cleaning out my jewelry box, I find a tiny little name bracelet that reminds me of another time in my life that stands out among the many clouded memories that I vow to keep from fading away. It's gold, with my name etched in cursive on the front. The back has a date on it. November 21st, 1982.
 I will never forget this date. In fact, I can sit here and picture the days happenings in my mind like it was yesterday.
My mother dressed me in a creme and violet dress. George, her new husband, lifted me up in his strong, yet tender arms, so he could speak to me at eye level. "Jennifer" he said. "We are going to the courthouse today for something very special. Today is the day that the court will grant me the right to be your daddy. Do you understand?" he asked nervously, wanting so very much to feel my love and acceptance. "Yes" I said ,timidly. "Do you have any questions?" George asked me, studying my face to see if my young mind was grasping the depth of the situation. I sat, fidgeting for a moment, then looked into his deep brown eyes and said quietly, almost in a whisper ,"Um, would it be ok if I call you Daddy?" This man, who was holding me in what seemed to be the strongest arms in the world, began to cry. He cried tears of joy and held me close, in a protective embrace, and said "Jennifer, I would be honored if you called me your daddy." With that, he put me down and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small red box and popped it open for me to observe. It held the name bracelet. He said, and I will never forget the intensity of his words, "From now on, you will have a daddy. I will never leave you or mommy. You are my daughter and no matter what you do, no matter what you say or how you act, I will always love you." He reached for my tiny wrist and clasped the bracelet on gently.
This was so many years ago. Yet, he stood by his word. My father is the epitome of a man. He is always pragmatic and dependable. He supported me through the pain and abandonment issues I had, as a result of my biological father's actions. I married a Greek man, much like my father. The old adage that girls marry a man in their fathers shadow held true for me. As I have matured and become a parent myself, I have realized what a gift my father gave me by accepting me into his heart. The bracelet was just a bonus. So, I tuck it away, in my jewelry box to keep it safe, much like I tuck away these memories. Unlike the bracelet, I carry them with me always. I will always remember that I once was a girl  who wanted nothing more than a fathers love...

Our Adventures in Homeschooling!!!

Lately, I haven't had the time to write because frankly, we've been uber busy!!! Here's a photo montage of some of our adventures....