Spontaneous eruption

I have to be honest, I'm really not the most spontaneous mama. I'm good at hemming and haw-ing at requests until I have a chance to think out the details.

But there's something about Sunday afternoons. I was still feeling the Love from church when we got home and Littlest immediately asked to make a volcano.

Being the youngest, I sometimes forget that he hasn't done everything his brothers have. And really, it's such an easy, fun project -- how could say I say anything but, "Sure!"?

The last time we did this most-classic-of-all-classic elementary science experiments was at a homeschooling conference. (The kids used red clay to shape the volcanoes -- unfortunately, we left them in the trunk of our rental car! Oops!)

We did a super-easy version. Here's what you need:

A wide bowl or pan.
A tall cup.
Newspaper or paper towels.
Aluminum foil
Washable paint and brushes
Baking soda
Vinegar
Food coloring

Put the cup in the pan. Wrap some paper around the outside of the cup. Tuck foil inside and down the sides of the cup to shape the mountain. Paint the foil.

Wait for the paint to dry. (That's the hard part!)

Add a few drops of red and yellow or orange food coloring to a cup of vinegar. Spoon a few tablespoons of baking soda into the cup.

Slowly pour the vinegar into the volcano and watch it erupt! (And just see if you don't end up using all the baking soda and vinegar in the house! ;)

Littlest turns 5.

Oh, my sweet Littlest boy. The one whom I wanted so badly, and who turned our lives upside down (and right-side-up again!) just as your Papa said you would. "Three is twice as many as two!" he warned.

You charm us with your puppy poses, dino roars and silly smiles. You give out more hugs and "I love yous" than anyone else in the world. Your expectations are high, and you keep us on our toes, but you go from grumpy to glad in 0.2 seconds. It doesn't take much -- just finally reading your mind correctly.

You have grown so much this year. Not just in height and shoe size, but right out of babyhood into boyhood. You are still my cuddlebug, and you would probably still nurse if you could. But that time has passed, and you have accepted the big kid joys of getting yourself dressed each morning, playdates without Mommy, and riding your new bicycle.

For your birthday this year, you wanted a party at the park. With hamburgers, not hot dogs. You don't like hot dogs. You do like marshmallows, so we added some to the cupcakes -- which you helped make.

You spent a good bit of the time being fawned over by older women girls, who can't resist your baby blues any more than your Mama can.

Happy 5th birthday, my precious boy. We love you to heaven and back again!

Meet my boys

I've really been enjoying the Not Back to School blog hop at Heart of the Matter -- it's so fun to see how unique our homeschooling families are! I'm excited to welcome those of you who have found my blog in the last few weeks! I'd love for you to meet the three boys I am blessed to call my sons...

Eldest, age 9, fourth grade:

Our energetic, talkative firstborn, the scientist, who loves learning new things as much as he loves telling you about it. He's our champion chess player, Lego fanatic and kung fu green belt. He loves all of God's creatures, even the ones the rest of us would prefer never think about. He'll have his own classroom or Nat Geo TV show someday. But this year he's looking forward to taking cello lessons, learning more math, and studying the Ancient Romans.

Middlest, age 7, third grade:

Our secondborn is perfectly positioned between his brothers to be the team player that he is. Always available for a hug or a game of tag, he is happiest when surrounded by people who like to move as much as he does. He loves language, and is excited to study Latin and German this year. Some day he'll be a missionary, a mediator or an electric violin-wielding rock star.

Littlest, age 4:

 

Our youngest boy is the quiet one with the iron will. He'll either charm your socks off or bite your head off -- but he'll be sure to kiss it afterward! He loves dinosaurs, playing with his brothers, impressing us with his with Lego Bionicle creations, and being read to. At this point, his future is limitless!

Children and church

Christian Unschooling.com has a new post up about taking unschooled children to "Children's Church."

This can be such a challenging issue. As adult Christians we want the fellowship, or the litany, and to be fed in the Word, and we want to our children to feel at home at church, so they'll continue to be a part of the Body as they grow up. Some people go from church to church looking for a place where children are welcomed and families have options -- not just a place to drop off their kids, not just a program to entertain and "educate" them, but a place where Christ resides.

For me, the issue has always been ensuring that I respect what my children are ready for. My oldest son wanted to be with me until he was a toddler, and then he wanted to be where he could play and move. I volunteered in the nursery, but he was fine without me, too. My second son was totally different. He wasn't ready to leave my side until he was 5. So, he didn't. He was either with me in church, or I was with him in Sunday school.

My third son is just now old enough to attend Sunday school without me. I've been a nursery volunteer since before he was born. I haven't seen much of the inside of the sanctuary in that time, but that's okay. This Sunday, I took him in, got him settled, and then sat in the hallway listening to the class for 45 minutes.

I hadn't planned to spend the hour eavesdropping, it just worked out that way. (Honestly, I just needed a nap!) I did want to make sure he was truly okay with being there. The initial activity centered on coloring, which he doesn't care much about. But they didn't make him do it. He just sat and chatted, and the teachers were very sweet.

We are fortunate to be members at a fairly small parish, where the rules are not so firmly in place as to make flexibility for each child impossible. I know some local large churches where new parents would never be allowed to stay in the nursery with their toddler, while both parent and child take time to get comfortable there. But that's been regular practice while I've been involved in our nursery -- partly because it was important to me.

I'm typically not afraid to make my opinions known when I think it's really important. And I'm willing to step in and help if that's what it takes to make things how I think they should be. Not everyone feels comfortable doing that, and I'm sure it could get messy and obnoxious if everyone were like me!

I think the important thing is to know what's right for your child, and not to give up or give in if it's clearly not working. Try something different. Don't be afraid to ask for changes. Pray about it, and do what feels Right.

Milestones for Littlest

Over last few months, we started mentioning the possibility of Littlest sleeping in the "big boys'" room.

But, we said, "not until you're three." I didn't want him to feel rushed, but I wanted it to feel special. Of course, he didn't know quite what that meant, to "be three."

Until he realized he was having a birthday -- you know, one of those days when you get presents! And eat cake! And everyone sings to you!

After his birthday, he started asking about the big boys' room. "Mommy, when do I get to sleep in the bottom bottom bed?"

We are blessed to have a bunk bed with a trundle underneath, so all three boys can share a room.

We got to work one day last week, cleaning up the toys under the bed so the trundle would go in and out smoothly. Then I put on the vehicle-themed sheets I'd been saving for him, and the beautiful, summery quilt my friend Emily made him.


Does he look a little bit excited?


Oh, and he's using the potty now, too. Wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles!

He's 3 now. Not a baby. One of the big boys. And he knows it. He's wearing underwear. He's sleeping in his own bed.

What's next, college?

Fortunately, he'll have to stop nursing before he can move into the dorms. ;)

My littlest dinophile turns 3.

Another week in pictures...

Can it have been three years already?


Littlest requested a knitted dinosaur for his birthday. So, of course, he got one.

It was a dinosaur-themed week, at least at home. (Eldest and Middlest were visiting the early Christians in Rome all week.)


In between playing with his birthday presents, he took advantage of the absence of his brothers, and mastered using the computer mouse. Only dinosaur games would do, so I dug up as many as I could find online. He played them all.

Look how big he's gotten! Oh, wait, that 4-pound zucchini makes him look kind of small, doesn't it? (And yes, that's a T-Rex on his shirt.)


Happy birthday, sweet boy! We love you!

One lap, shared.

My 4yo stole a rare moment on my empty lap this evening. He has gotten so tall and lanky he barely resembles the chubby baby that used to ride around in a sling all day long. Now his little brother is the one most often on my hip, but he never seems to resent it. Grouper is more likely to smother Baby Fish with too tight a hug than do anything that expresses jealousy.

No, tonight it was the baby's turn to be jealous.

It took me a minute to realize what he was upset about. UberDad recognized it first. "He doesn't want Grouper sitting on your lap!" my husband laughed, watching the baby scoot over to the sofa from his playmat, dismay in his voice and on his face.

I smiled at him as he came closer, but hugged my middle son tighter, not ready to give up our cuddle. "Your brother is my baby, too!" I said. "But you can come up and join us!"

I pulled him up on the couch, and set him on his brother's lap. We were nestled one on top of another like his stackable wooden boxes, though I wasn't sure that it would be enough. It was -- he was happy to be a part of the cuddle for a moment. Then he slid off to crawl along the sofa and giddily bounce against the cushions.

How lucky am I? He could just as easily have reached out to grab Grouper's face like he does the cat's tail, in an attempt to wrestle his place back. But he didn't.

At some point every mother worries about jealousy between her children. "If I have another baby, will my first child forgive me?" "How will I give them both enough attention and love?" And sometimes we do exactly what we hope we wouldn't -- we choose one over the other, expecting the older children to understand when we put the baby's needs first -- all day long. Or putting the baby off too long because the older child needed our attention. And sometimes it's just a matter of not having enough hands to do everything we're needed for at once.

Maybe it's luck. An undeserved blessing. Maybe I'm figuring some things out and not making those mistakes as often. In any case, I am grateful for having sons who know the value of a brother, and truly love each other.