Allowance versus Hornets

For a while now, I have had a mental block about allowance.  I want our kids to learn how to manage money and how to earn it!  But, I've made the whole deal a little more complicated than it needs to be.

For example, I've gotten distracted by the delivery of the funds.  Hooked on the idea that the kids retrieve their allowance via their own mailbox attached to a white fence, I also dreamed of their reaching over flowers to get it.  While the mailboxes have been there for years, the cosmos below are  from seeds planted in August!  I have definitely strayed from the whole allowance issue, but by now, the kids have, too.  After waiting so long, they anticipate hornet nests in their boxes, rather than funds.  But, we're back on track.  Sunday delivery.  After chores...

Phases: Drawing a Star

John just learned how to draw a star.  He is empowered by his discovery.  And stars abound.

Apples

After school, John and I made a pie.

While it is easier to experience the ideal in a picture than to live it, we grabbed about 5 minutes that did actually feel idyllic.  Our formula went like this:

• Catch a beautiful Fall day.
• Find a quiet porch surrounded by trees.
• Don't worry too much about a clean table, or clean people for that matter. 
• Produce a bunch of apples and an old fashioned apple peeler.  (The old-fashioned always seems to up the idyllic factor.)
• Seize on a five-year-old's curiosity for stabbing an apple and turning a crank.
• Hold his attention for say 5-10 minutes tops.
• Get educational with the apple peels.  (If I form almost all the letters by default, maybe he gets something out of it.)
• Add a loyal dog, if possible.

I do have to move fast to keep John's attention and squeeze in these scenes that make me feel so good.  Granted, after 15 minutes of apple peeling, I moved on to assemble the pie, while John made airplane fighting sounds with a pencil. 

But, I somehow have faith that these 5 minutes do get mileage, in the form of connection (to the season and each other), a sense of accomplishment, and a memory.  I know the memory sticks because John's siblings came home and talked for 5 minutes, about their 5 minutes last year, doing the very same thing.

But then again.... maybe it's the pie.  

Police Officer Parenting

Today, my son begged and begged for a thing I just couldn't (and shouldn't and wouldn't) deliver.  We were at a park, and he wanted to find "Poppy," the perfect acorn.  Nothing fit the bill.  I couldn't make it right, nor could a genie in a bottle or a million dollars.  Yet, sitting with an agonized child, sitting with their agony, is not a simple task.

Also today, I begged and begged a police officer to give me a warning rather than a speeding ticket.  The traffic and construction crossing town was unpredictable, and about 1/4 mile from school, I got stopped.  I don't think the officer felt my agony, nor did he feel any agony in giving me the ticket.

I don't want to parent like a police officer.  I don't want to set my kids up to expect rigid people and a rigid world.  I want them to feel room to be creative, with words and deeds.  But, I also want them to go the speed limit, and accept cold consequences when they come, be it a lost acorn or a humiliating fine.

Drab Farm Faces

Recently, I brought everyone to a farm to pick whatever was growing.  The faces below reveal their glee.  

We have made this visit to Berry Patch Farms a number of years in a row now.  The farm is amazing.  This trip, however, my crowd showed no giddy excitement from plucking raspberries straight from the bush.  Instead,

• They got out there;
• They filled their green containers;
• They stared at fat pigs;
• They observed screaming toddlers;
• They checked out cats;
• They watched chickens fight;
• John predictably snuck half his harvest into his mouth;
• June and Clara deliberated for about 30 minutes over 5 flower stems;
• Will sat on a peaceful bench.

But, no one went overboard with enthusiasm.  Maybe they had some good sibling bonding, moaning about their mom dragging them there instead of the International Pancake House.  

Sometimes you hit the happy mark, sometimes you don't.  Even at a farm.  I guess I'll see what happens next year.  Maybe I'll bring Jeff and we'll take a smiling selfie.  

Still, no one can deny that they were good strawberries!

Attending to Tudio

John has an imaginary friend.  (Pictured above.)  I love him.  His name is Tudio.

Tudio gets lots of attention.  (Who wouldn't with a name like "Tudio.")  For example, Tudio needs his own car seat.  He gets a special bed on the floor, sleepover style.  Tudio sometimes needs his own chair at a restaurant.  Tudio sets fashion trends and passes along recommendations.  Tudio travels far and wide.  Tudio happens like pancakes and chocolate milk.  He needs his own plate and cup, and always empties them both.  Tudio really likes vitamins.

Coddling Tudio is a slippery slope.  It's hard not to, but he appears at opportune moments.  Busy moments.  Moments when some people aren't getting much attention.  Or moments when food is involved.

All in all, Tudio is sort of a fifth child.  I rejoice that he exists, and he really tests my limits.

Spring Sounds: Peepers

Some time in May, the kids and I took a neighborhood walk.  We turned a corner and were struck by a sound.  

Honestly, there are so many sounds in our world right now.  I get so overwhelmed.  We are not particularly good at talking one at a time.  Many are in the habit of just making non-sense sounds: clicks, snaps, whistles, drumming, balls, rhythms, taps, shouts, calls, 1/2 songs, laughs, beats, beeps.  As I type, and Will reads quietly beside me, we both listen to our groaning dog (he's joined the party) and our too-high-to-reach smoke alarm that has been beeping, well, over a year!  We don't actually hear it any more.

But, on that walk, I sure did hear the frogs - "the spring peepers."  It seems like a miracle that on one day, they just wake up and sing.  We received their call, and felt grateful.  For spring, for taking a walk, for a sound that had been hiding away so long.  And I was grateful we all noticed.