Singing With Lydda

Our week with just the two of us is almost over.

So far, Lydda and I have cleaned out and rearranged Emogene's room, played UNO a bazillion times, locked me out of the bathroom, folded too many clothes (Em and Hat's usual chore), went to the library, visited my classroom twice, ate at Chick-Fil-A, bathed the dogs, made crafts, and, and, and...

It has been a lovely week to remember, then today hit.
I think to punish me for making her clean, she formed a band.  It was a duet.  She was on the glockenspiel, and I was on the tambourine.  Because we were so talented, we were even able to switch instruments.  We played such great diddies as "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," "Jesus Loves Me," "This Little Light of Mine," and "The French Fry Gang."  You see how I threw that last one in to see if you were paying attention?  It is an original piece performed because my memory of songs apparently doesn't go past 3 and I was forced to sing another one.

Is there such a universe that would allow a mother to use the words, "My ears may possibly bleed if we play another song,"  or "My head is going to explode if you play one more note on that dreadfully, terrible, wish I'd never bought it glockenspiel."  My ears were actually hurting.  I was begging for Yoko to knock on the door to break up the band.  The dog was frantically barking and trying to get into my room.  He knew I was being tortured.  And just when I thought I could hold my tongue no longer,  hunger consumed Lydda and we were forced to stop.  I put up a fight.  I told her I had lots more made up songs to play.  She insisted she eat supper.  I breathed a sigh of relief, kissed her and hugged her tightly, and then thanked her for the music appreciation lesson of the day.  She then revealed that we were just practicing.  We have to do a concert for Daddy when he gets home.  I'm off to look for my earplugs.

Missing Things

Emogene and Hattie are away for a week at camp.  Lydda sure is missing them.  She started missing them within 10 minutes of us dropping them off.  Eric and I miss seeing their sweet little faces all day and kissing all over them, but it is only a week and we will survive.  I will admit, we don't miss the sisterly screaming and fighting.

Lydda misses them mostly at night when she realizes once again that she'll be sleeping alone.  I had to bribe her the first night with a trip to the yogurt shop.  Eric laid with her the second night until she fell asleep.  I had to promise her that when daddy left for work, she could come get in bed with me.  It is 5am, but Lydda thinks it is still the night before.  He laid her next to me this morning and she gave me a big grin and said, "I get to sleep in your bed.  Night Mommy."  We slept until 9:30.  We will probably repeat that until her sisters come home.

So far, Lydda and I have done two crafts, played an odd game of Connect Four, and played UNO.  Her sisters have been gone only TWO days. While I sat enjoying our game, it hit me.  Lydda and I have been missing out on this.  For stay-at-home moms, this isn't something that you usually miss.  You send the older kids off to school and then you get to have play time with the youngest.  For me, Emogene and Hattie are always doing something and Lydda does it with them.  Rarely does Lydda ask me to play with her.  This makes me sad.  She won't be little too much longer, and she won't want to play with her mommy forever.  I was missing out on some precious times that I wouldn't be able to get back.

People always say, "You don't do for your last child what you did for your first."  That is so true.  Not only do I have a drastically shorter stack of pictures of Hattie and Lydda than I do of Emogene, but I've spent less time with them.  As moms, let's make a promise to our children.  We will give them lots of individual time now and always.  If you can find time to get away with your husband on a date, you can find time to go on a date with your children.  Leave the others with dad and take one to the library or park.  It doesn't have to be expensive time.  Eric and I took Lydda shopping with us after dropping off the girls.  She was in charge of the shopping list, which was interesting since she can't read yet.  It was such a precious time we spent with her, just shopping.

So , I guess this blog is about having dates with your kids.  Let them feel like an only child for an afternoon.  Well, I need to go.  Lydda wants to play UNO again.

Great Summer Adventures

Once upon a time while rummaging through a garage sale, I found a very nice pair of binoculars.  They had a case and even protective covers over the lenses.  And just like what happens to most of the things I am excited to find at a garage sale, they were put into the pie safe and forgotten until a few days ago.  Lydda happened upon them and they were an instant hit with the kids.

I instantly had an epiphany and a new book on my Kindle, so I was of course trying to think of any way to get rid of the kids.  I quickly told them about all the grand adventures they could have without me outside with the new amazing toy called binoculars.  I equipped them with a notebook and pencil and pointed to the play fort in the backyard.  I had grand visions of pirate adventures, dinosaur hunts, bird watching, wildlife spotting, and lion pride viewing moments.  Too bad I didn't share these with the children.  As I watched them exploring the grand outdoors/ our neighborhood, I noticed them feverishly taking notes and wondered what species of animal they had spotted.  (As you can see, I had not completely abandoned my motherly role.  I was keeping an eye on them.)  As they began to trickle into the house and their quiet conversations slowly reached my eardrums, my concern that my children had turned into peeping Toms began to grip my heart and cause it to race and I began to panic.  I rifled through their notes and realized a marathon of CSI, NCIS, and Law and Order may not have been the best thing for  children.  Apparently according to their journal, our neighborhood is devoid of birds and furry creatures, but our neighbors have a chainsaw with something red on it, some rope, and a taser.  Let's just assume my children have a vivid imagination and not assume that we need to put our house on the market.  They are now, once again, being brainwashed by My Little Ponies and Littlest Pet Shop.

So, if you happen upon some binoculars at a garage sale, whip out those $2 and get them.  This world needs more crime scene investigators in training.  And for the record, I blame Dora.

The Joys of Adoption

Before we adopted, we heard scary and sad stories about how families were treated in public and rude comments made by strangers because they chose to adopt internationally.  I was frightened about this mainly because I'm very non-confrontational and have trouble speaking my mind.  I knew I wouldn't have a good comeback and was scared I wouldn't handle myself well in front of my children.  I had read great responses from others and tried memorizing them, but knew my mind would go blank if the need to say any every arose.  Thankfully we haven't had any rudeness.  The moments we have are usually joyous or humorous, at least to me.

A lot of people want to say something without saying "something."  This usually means I'll get, "Your daughter is so beautiful."  This cracks me up because I have been guilty of it too.  I want to say, "Yes, I think all my daughters are beautiful, but I am a little partial."  Instead, I just say thank you.  When someone says your adopted child is beautiful they really mean!  "I've noticed you have an adopted child.  I don't want to point that out in case she doesn't know yet, so I'll just say she is beautiful. I think adoption is beautiful too.  You know what I mean."

Some of them may be like Eric when we were waiting for our referral and just stalk adopted children throughout the grocery store.  Eric would come back to the van beaming.  "I followed a lady and her daughter all through the frozen section.  She was adopted!  If we wait out here long enough in our van (not THAT kind of van), you might get to see her too."  In retrospect he was a little bit creepy and probably under surveillance by the store cameras.

I love the comments that people say to check to see if she is adopted.  "Is that your daughter?  I can tell.  She looks just like you."  I usually respond with, "Thank you.  A lot of people tell me that."  Ok, I'm just being mean, but seriously!  She looks completely Chinese, and I look like a white woman.

Then people ask silly questions, "Does Lydda have the same last name as you?"  I think I laughed in my friend's face on this one.  I love her to death, but that one made me laugh.

My all time favorite thing anyone has ever said was, "Well hello!  I'm Steven.  I'm... (pausing to think of what to call me.  Wait for it.  Wait for it.  Wait for it.) Mrs. Tricia's friend."  Did he seriously think my daughter calls me Mrs. Tricia?  I just kindly looked at Lydda and said, "This is Mommy's friend."

I still laugh about that one.
We are extra blessed to not have anyone confront us and say ugly remarks.

Dora the Annoyer

We visit the library once or twice a week.  I love books and have a little bit of a problem with them, so much that they have overtaken most of the closet space in our house.  All three girls beg to go to the library, and Eric and I couldn't be happier about their love of books. 

Remember that while you read what I have to say.  I hate Dora!  I know I am terrible, but it is absolutely torturous to me to read Dora book after Dora book after Dora book.  Lydda is TORTURING me!  How many stinking fairy lands, magical unicorns, Halloween parades, and birthday parties can I endure before I completely snap?  At the end of each book I want to add an alternate ending reminiscent of Thelma and Louise but with Boots and Dora.

I have pleaded my case with the librarian.  I've given her lots of ideas that involve a hidden section of the library where all Dora books should be placed or maybe a camping workshop where all Dora books accidentally get thrown into the campfire.   I'm not against a good old fashioned book burning.   She is unyielding.  I think she hates me.

I have started limiting the number of Dora books allowed home.  The other day I even turned the van around and returned the one Dora book I allowed in the van.  Was it an effective punishment for her disobedience? Definitely!  Was it a little bit of reward for me to not have to read it all week?  Absolutely!  Sadly, she has progressed to Dora DVDs.  I let her check out one movie a week.  It is rather sad that I was glad she picked a Barbie movie today.

I must go now.  A torture session is coming.  I see her digging in the book bag.  Adios!  I just threw up a little in my mouth.

There is some hope parents.  Go to church.  Accept Jesus as your Savior.  There is no way God would put Dora in heaven, so you sure don't want to go to hell.

My Husband the Hoarder

I recently turned an antique pie safe into a bookshelf and toy holder for the girls' room.  Before the transformation, the pie safe was FULL of plates and junk I had collected over the years from garage sales and dear family members.  We stuck everything in two boxes, and Eric helped me go through it yesterday.  Not only did we tackle the boxes, but we also tackled above the kitchen cabinets.  It tends to collect junk as well.  Well, while going through things, I began to suspect Eric of being a hoarder.  The first piece of evidence, I had a pretty good set of dinner plates, bowls, cups, and saucers.  I remember the exact garage sale I got them from.  I loved them and thought they looked a little fancy.  Fast forward 15 years and you'd find that we never once used them.  They sat in that pie safe untouched and collecting dust for 15 YEARS.  I went to put them in the Goodwill box and my suspected hoarding husband says, "I want to keep those.  They remind me of Grandma."  Let me repeat myself, I GOT THEM AT A GARAGE SALE, NOT GRANDMA'S GARAGE SALE MIND YOU.
Second piece of hoarding evidence, while cleaning the items on top of the cabinets, a handmade, odd looking vase with a lid comes down from the top.  Eric holds it up, I recall the exact garage sale where I bought it and tell him to send it to Goodwill.  As I was getting into bed that night, I look over and see the vase sitting next to his alarm clock, NOT in the Goodwill box.  He decided to use it to hold his change and money stash.  I am building a pretty compelling hoarding case against him.  I did save everything he wanted to keep, but sadly I had to give away the ACTUAL plates Grandma gave us as a wedding gift to make room for the new set.

I am going to keep my eye on him.  I'm pretty sure he has a book hoarding problem brewing.  I have already started to help with that by taking a few at a time to the library as a donation.
Shhh, don't tell him, but strangely the coffee cups from the saved set of dishes remind me of PaPa Pete, and I love that we are finally using them.

Do you have any hoarding tendancies?

A Van Ride of Exhaustion

Do you sometimes feel like riding around in the car with your kids is torture?  Do you envision duct tape, ear plugs, or a sound proof glass of separation?  If so, then I am here to help you.  If not, then go back into your perfect family bubble.

When Emogene and Hattie were little, Eric and I would announce we were putting up the wall of silence and we would wave our hand behind our seats.  Eric and I would then hold conversations by just reading our lips.  The girls would totally fall for it.  It was fun.

Now that Lydda is here and is very vocal, there is never a moment of silence in our car.  This can be frustrating and really gets on Hattie's nerves.  She can't handle noisy things too well.  I bring along ear plugs and headphones for her.

We like to play the quiet game.  The girls don't like me to play because they know I will win.  I refuse to talk to them until we get home.  Lydda loses within 30 seconds every time.  She thinks all talking she has to do is absolutely necessary so it should be allowed and not count her out, but she does talk less than usual.  Hattie has trouble staying calm with Lydda's disregard for the game rules.  I'm helping Hattie cope with the noise and rule breaking.  Emogene just thinks it is funny.

Eric and I occasionally like to join in with the girls and annoy them back.  Our new thing started because of one of Lydda's questions.  Anytime a new smell enters the car, usually car exhaust, she asks, "What's that smell?"  No matter how many times we have told her what car exhaust or sewage is, she still will ask.  Now we have a new answer, "The smell of despair."  We like to change it up and say "disappointment or regret."  It gives us a giggle and annoys the girls.  We win!

Seriously though, the car can be a frustrating place for moms and dads.  Sometimes driving around alone just to go to the bank can be a treat of silence.  I give positive reinforcement to Lydda for respecting Hattie's need for less noise.  Her favorite treat is lip gloss.  She gets to put some on when we arrive at our destination if she has stayed quiet for most of the ride.  I could never expect the girls to not talk at all nor would I want that.  Listening to them and hearing about their lives is a joy.  Hearing their laughter from the back of the van brings such a smile to my face.

Tips to Making Ends Meet Each Month

I was asked to be a guest blogger.  Swing by Juliana's blog to read my tips on saving money to help your family.  Click on her name to find it.

What's That You Say?

Raising a cleft affected child usually means you will run into some speech issues.  Lydda is one of those kids that talks A LOT, but sometimes you have trouble understanding what she is saying. She gets frustrated with us.  We get frustrated, but not with her.  Lydda is smarter than your kid by far very smart.  When she notices we don't know what she is saying, she will start acting out what she wants.  Like yesterday, we had been given some dog bowls and Lydda had placed them on the floor and left to put something up.  When she went back to the dog bowl spot, they were gone.  Unbeknownst (not a real word) to us, my dad had picked them up and brought them to our van.  Lydda was freaking out that they had disappeared.  I couldn't figure out why she was upset.  She then started acting out what a dog would look like while drinking water (tongue going in and out, in and out while using her hand as a bowl).

Sometimes you just have to laugh at what you think she is saying.  Lydda gets a big kick out of this as well.

About 6 months ago, Lydda had a favorite song.  She sang it constantly!  This is what we heard, "Jesus, you don't know how to color."  She would repeat it over and over again.  Eric and I would walk around the house saying, "Poor Jesus don't know how to color.  That is sad."  I finally asked her preschool teacher about the song.  The actual words made way more sense, "Jesus, you sure know how to color.  You color my life with love."  I then worked with Lydda on making her "sure" clearer.

The other day, she was singing a favorite song and had us all laughing.  "If your happy and you know it, then your face is in the toilet..."  She was singing the correct words, but that was what we heard.  We had a van full of laughter.

Speech problems can be very frustrating.  Lydda has been going to speech therapy for almost 3 years.  We work with her often and use a lot of patience.  She doesn't like for me to help her, but I am persistent.  She has learned that if she holds her nose, we can understand her better.  She does this trick often.  We then practice saying the words without holding her nose.  She gets very excited about her progress.  We are proud of her for trying so hard.