The Things I DON'T Do

With Christmas over and the decorations put away, I often take time in January to think about my goals for the coming months.  I don't like the word "resolution." There is a lot of pressure with resolutions.  If I make one wrong move, I feel like I've failed and might as well give up.  

Instead, I like to make goals.  Goals imply something I am working toward-- a series of baby steps in the direction of an end result.  Mistakes may set me back, but I can still pick up and try again.

Brian and I talked over the weekend about things we want to do this year and things we want to change both individually and together, but I don't want to talk about that now.  I love getting a peek into someone else's thought and plans, but sometimes it can inspire a bit of discouragement or comparison, too.  

I often have people say to me, "I don't know how you have six kids and manage to homeschool," or, "keep your house clean," or, "read."  The reality is, there are so many things I don't do.  I thought it would be fun to share a few of those things here instead:

1) I don't write daily...or even weekly... lesson plans.

Maybe this surprises the people who know my love of a list and a calendar, but I have never written a detailed lesson plan...or many lesson plans at all.  My method of school planning is big-picture.  I know what I want to accomplish in a year and we chip away in small chunks.  For example, in history, I know we need to cover post-Civil War through the present this year so in August we studied the Reconstruction Era.  In September, we read about the early 1900s.  In October, we focused on World War I.   I do not write out what needs to be done each day.

Each child also refers to their own weekly schedule, but that simply reminds them what subjects they need to cover each day, not the specifics of what they need to do. 

2) I don't wash my hair every day.

I used to have very oily hair that looked gross and limp if I didn't wash it, but as I got older, my hair started to dry out. After my pregnancy with Macie, my dry hair also became more wavy.  I have a lot of hair-- "massive amounts," in the words of the girl who cut my hair-- and I suddenly realized that I could save a lot of time by not washing and styling it every day. 

I have never used dry shampoo, but I spray on  homemade sea salt spray after I wash my hair, and I spray on a bit more on in-between days.  The salt helps dry out any stray moisture or yuck. 

3) I don't garden or raise chickens.

I have a very black thumb.  I can barely keep a hanging basket alive in the summer.  As much as I would like to feed my family fresh vegetables from our own garden, it is just not my thing.  Even if I could do it, there is a huge time commitment and I would rather devote my time to other things.  Instead, I gladly make good use of every gift of vegetables from my gardening friends or family.

The same goes for chickens.  We know at least four families who raise their own chickens and Maddie is dying to join them.  As much as I love fresh eggs and understand their health benefits, I am saying no for now.

4) I don't exercise.

For three years I was a regular runner. I ran 2 half-marathons and many more shorter races.  I ran through my pregnancy, up until the day my water broke.  I know other moms who find time to run with a baby, but it's not working for me.  Macie turns one this month and I don't see running in my near future either.  

My favorite time to run is early morning, but that's when she wakes to nurse.  Once my morning gets going, the rest of the day is full to the brim.  Over the summer and fall, I took a daily mile-and-a-half walk with Macie and either Brian or one of the kids, but now it is too dark and cold. Maybe I could find time to exercise another way, but I'm choosing not to make it a priority right now.  I will take the occasional run when I'm able, but  I won't put it on my regular to-do list for many more months. 

5) I don't use coupons.

I am frugal and like to save money, but I rarely use coupons.  I buy generic and watch for sales. We also love the effortlessness of Walmart Savings Catcher.  I say "we" because I am not even the one who uses the app.  Brian is. 

6) I don't take my kids to dance or sports practice.

We have made the decision for monetary and time purposes to forego weekly individual activities with our five older kids.  They all take a gym class.  They all go to church activities one evening a week.  They all sing in the local homeschool choir.  Maddie does attend a monthly book club and the others will occasionally go to a class or camp, but we are choosing to not have multiple outside commitments. 

7) I don't put my kids to bed at night.

I feel the most guilt about this one!  Our nightly routine involves the kids listening to audio books in their rooms before bed.  Everyone gets ready (teeth, pjs, etc.) and then go into the bedrooms to listen. Sometimes it's boys/girls, sometimes older/younger, sometimes all together. When a disc is over (usually after an hour-ish), they come back out to the living room to tell me goodnight and then they take themselves to bed.  I rarely tuck anyone in or turn out lights. 

*****

There is one more thing I am going to take off my plate.  Blogging.  After almost nine years of writing here, I have decided to spend time on other pursuits.  When I began, I was still in my twenties and we lived in a small townhouse. We had no pets, Gavin was five, and three of my kids were not even born!  What a journey.

My blog is staying right here. I plan to leave all  posts, links, and photos up for browsing.  I won't disappear either. I'm keeping my blog's Facebook page open, and I plan to continue posting a few thoughts and photos there.  

"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you." 2 Corinthians 13:13

Why Having a Baby Is Hard...(and that's okay!)

I'm a sixth-time mom, but experience does not make it easy.  I still worry about why my baby won't sleep or why my boys can't get through day without picking on each other.  I'm also not immune to other people's opinions, looks, and comments.  

I do feel like I have the benefit of perspective this go-round, though.  I know every stage and every trial only lasts for  a short season. Baby days turn into toddler days.  Arguing boys transform into teenagers with a new set of cares.

My advice to new or young moms (or older moms, like me) is to choose whatever sleep situation allows everyone to the get the most sleep.  Trying to force something that isn't working just leaves everyone miserable.  They won't always be waking up, won't always be in your room, won't always be needing you all night.  

Smile at the people in the grocery store who tell you your hands are full or who ask nosy questions or who glare when your child is whining in the juice aisle.

Don't worry about the days when the kids...or you!...watch too much TV.  Everyone can be more productive tomorrow.

Some days, maybe many days, will be lonely and you'll long to talk to someone besides the baby. Loneliness is a real thing, but kids grow up and you'll realize the monotonous days were worth it.

I'm going to repeat something I wrote on the blog seven years ago because it is still true today:

In [our] inner struggle to determine cloth or disposable, homeschool or public, organic or not, my bed or his own, have I put too much merit in trivialities?  In deciding whether to expose my little ones to vaccines or food dyes or television, have I remembered the crux of the matter?

Does Gavin know Jesus?  Is Maddie living for Him?  Will Owen and Benjamin [and Alaine and Macie] spend eternity in Heaven? 

In the end, that's what matters.

(Click here for other posts in this series.)

Why Having a Baby Is Hard...(and that's okay!)

I'm a sixth-time mom, but experience does not make it easy.  I still worry about why my baby won't sleep or why my boys can't get through day without picking on each other.  I'm also not immune to other people's opinions, looks, and comments.  

I do feel like I have the benefit of perspective this go-round, though.  I know every stage and every trial only lasts for  a short season. Baby days turn into toddler days.  Arguing boys transform into teenagers with a new set of cares.

My advice to new or young moms (or older moms, like me) is to choose whatever sleep situation allows everyone to the get the most sleep.  Trying to force something that isn't working just leaves everyone miserable.  They won't always be waking up, won't always be in your room, won't always be needing you all night.  

Smile at the people in the grocery store who tell you your hands are full or who ask nosy questions or who glare when your child is whining in the juice aisle.

Don't worry about the days when the kids...or you!...watch too much TV.  Everyone can be more productive tomorrow.

Some days, maybe many days, will be lonely and you'll long to talk to someone besides the baby. Loneliness is a real thing, but kids grow up and you'll realize the monotonous days were worth it.

I'm going to repeat something I wrote on the blog seven years ago because it is still true today:

In [our] inner struggle to determine cloth or disposable, homeschool or public, organic or not, my bed or his own, have I put too much merit in trivialities?  In deciding whether to expose my little ones to vaccines or food dyes or television, have I remembered the crux of the matter?

Does Gavin know Jesus?  Is Maddie living for Him?  Will Owen and Benjamin [and Alaine and Macie] spend eternity in Heaven? 

In the end, that's what matters.

(Click here for other posts in this series.)

Behind the Scenes Confessional

Yesterday was a little emotional.

My parents moved out of my childhood home on Saturday.   Everything is fine and they bought a new house that they love and that meets all their needs, but it is still hard.  I don't consider myself  a sentimental person, but I'll admit I shed a few tears realizing I won't step back into the place that holds so many, many memories.  

Then on Sunday at church, I missed almost the entire service because Macie was crying.  She and I did slip back in at the end to sing the last song with the congregation, but it's not the first week I've had to sit out and it was a little discouraging. 

I keep forgetting that I'm only three months postpartum and that the hormones and emotions are still pumping strong.  Sometimes I feel like I'm the only mom with a fussy baby (I'm not!) and that everyone else is watching me and judging my parenting decisions (they're not!). It's so easy to think I'm the only one.  I've had "easy" babies and I've had "hard" ones and there is not one thing I can do to control it!

It's easy to put on a happy face for a blog or to only share the happy photos on Facebook.  Of course. Who is going to post photos of their baby screaming in their car seat? But I think it's helpful to show that no mom has it all together, and that even if she does, babies are babies and toddlers are toddlers.  (And big kids pout and teenagers mope...)

My baby may take 4 hour naps (she does!), but she also cries every time I take her grocery shopping. What babies need are moms who loves them whether they show their best selves to the world or whether that transition is a little harder.  What moms need is to remember each child is an individual, designed by God, and that He will walk with them as they learn to navigate the hard days. 

And now, all moms unite!  Your baby is quirky and so is mine.  Here are some things about Macie (3.5 months) that may or may not be like your baby: 

• She drools like crazy.  I have to change her 2-3 times or put up with soaked clothing, but...
• She rarely spits up!
• She won't take a pacifier, despite my numerous attempts since she was 2 days old.
• Sometimes she finds her thumb or her fingers for comfort, but neither make her very happy.
• She doesn't like to be worn in a sling or baby carrier. I've worn all five of my other children to various degrees, but never had one who resists so vehemently!
• She loves a bath in the sink but hates getting dressed afterwards.
• She is irritated by a wet diaper and loves a diaper change.
• She gets forceful, almost violent, hiccups.
• She loves gripe water and it cures her hiccups about 95% of the time.
• She protests being strapped into her car seat, but she often falls asleep in the car once she settles.
• She wants to nurse much more often than the suggested every 2-3 hours but then gets mad at me when she's not actually hungry.
• She can roll from her stomach to her back and from her back to her side.
• She prefers sleeping on her tummy.
• She wants to nurse to sleep, but sometimes I have to walk and nurse at the same time to get her to settle down.
• She does not like to be rocked to sleep and I can't get her to lay her head on my shoulder to sleep, but often she'll drift off if Brian holds her and bounces on the exercise ball.
• One time, she slept in her crib from 10 pm to 7 am, but now she wakes between 2 and 3 and prefers a nursing buffet until morning.
• She already shows signs of separation anxiety if I'm not holding her.
• She turns into a pumpkin between 7 and 7:30 in the evening if we aren't at home. 
• She sucks her probiotics off my finger like it's candy.
• She is very expressive with her eyebrows.
• She likes to lay and kick around on the floor...until she doesn't.

Macie is her own person and it's okay.  Your baby may be happier, fussier, more active, quieter, louder, more content, more insecure, sleepier, or more wakeful. Your baby may be different, but  each mom and baby was made by God and it's all okay.

And if it's an emotional day for you, too, I understand.

Our Silent Reflux Story

I'm writing to share our experience in the hope that it could help another family with similar issues.  


For the first seven weeks of Macie's life, she was a happy, content baby.  She slept well and long at night  She let anyone hold her.  In the car, she cried for only a minute or two before falling asleep.  We called her our "dream baby" because of how easily she adapted to life.

The week Brian went back to work after his winter break, Macie got a bad cold. What seemed normal at first progressed into something more serious and we needed to take her to the ER for labored breathing.  She was diagnosed with RSV on March 7.  There was a lingering cough and congestion for days so saline and a nasal aspirator became part of our daily routine.  Macie started waking often at night and not settling easily.  She cried much of the day, plus resisted naps and nursing.  At first we thought the congestion was irritating her and disrupting her sleep.  Then I thought maybe my supply was low and she was not getting enough to eat.  

By the end of March, the cough was gone and she began sleeping more soundly again, both at night and during nap time, but after only a day or two of clear breathing, the stuffy nose came back.  It was especially noisy in the morning.  We feared she was getting another cold, but no other symptoms developed.  We also considered allergies.  Regardless of the cause, something was making Macie cry for hours of every day.  We feared  it was our new version of normal.  I've parented a high-needs baby before, but his cries were different.  Nothing comforted Macie.  The kids couldn't hold her anymore and it was intimidating to take her out because we never knew when she would begin crying loudly and inconsolably.  I held it together okay in the daytime, but each evening I was zapped.  I had more than one sobbing break-down of my own. 

One day while she was sleeping, I started googling her symptoms-- hours of crying, stuffy nose, frequent hiccups-- and realized she was exhibiting signs of silent reflux.  Babies with this type of reflux rarely spit up because the stomach acid only comes partly up the esophagus before going back down.  Though it can occur from birth, it often does not begin until the baby is closer to eight weeks old. I felt as though a light went on.  The difficulties we'd been experiencing over the past weeks were all related...and there were ways to treat it!  We didn't have a high-needs baby or a colicky baby.  We had a reflux baby.

I made Macie a doctor's appointment for the next day.  As is typical with babies, Macie showed her happy, cheerful self to the doctor, but the doctor listened to my concerns and asked lots of questions.  She agreed that Macie was suffering from silent reflux and laid out our options.  She said we could try an elimination diet to see if something I ate was triggering the reflux or we could begin medication.  Considering we had been dealing with a crying, miserable baby for close to a month and we were all desperate for relief, I chose the medication. The doctor counseled me to be aware of the foods I was eating and to pay close attention to anything that seemed to exacerbate the symptoms.  

That evening I gave Macie her first dose of ranitidine (generic Zantac).  Ranitidine is an acid reducer and begins working within an hour, but can take up to three weeks to fully take affect depending how much damage has already been done to the esophagus.  We noticed a change in her temperament the first night!  She was visibly relaxed and nursed to sleep without a fight for the first time in weeks.  Over the next few days, she smiled more and interacted with the older kids.  They were able to start holding her again.  We had to be vigilant about her medication, though. Ranitidine has a very short half-life and Macie would grow irritable when it was near time for her next dose.

About a week after starting the medicine, Macie had another fussy day.  All babies have bad days so I didn't worry, but when we starting having whole strings of bad days, I felt a sense of dread. I read online that ranitidine dosage is sensitive to weight changes.  Since babies grow rapidly, I wondered if she already needed to up her dosage.  

I began researching natural ways to treat reflux and bookmarked this article about natural treatment.  

On Sunday, April 10, we were at a birthday party and I noticed Macie was happy and bubbly all day.  It was a strong contrast to her mood on the preceding days so I took a minute to write down everything I had eaten the day before (Saturday).  I noticed that, quite by accident, I had consumed very little dairy.  However, on Sunday at the party, I ate cheese and ice cream, plus we had pizza for dinner later in the evening. I waited and sure enough, on Monday, we had one of our worst days yet.  It gave me pause.  

Everything I read online said that if dairy was a suspected trigger for a baby's acid reflux, it needed to be totally eliminated from the mom's diet for two weeks.  That was how long it would take for the proteins to leave the body-- and therefore the breastmilk.  I cut dairy from my diet and noticed a reduction in symptoms in 24 hours.  Most noticeably, she only cried when she was sleepy or had a wet diaper, not all day long! For me it followed this formula.  Eat dairy and have a cranky baby the next day.  Avoid dairy and have a happy baby.  

The first few days I was afraid to hope.  Maybe it was coincidence, maybe wishful thinking, or maybe my imagination.  The kids started commenting on it, though.  They noticed how Macie was happy again.  They noticed how I was able to get in the shower before 9 am  instead of hanging out in the PJs until the middle of the afternoon. 

Macie's congestion cleared up, too.  Six days after cutting dairy, the congestion was mild enough to clear on its own in the morning without needing to irrigate and suction.  Nine days after eliminating dairy, she woke up with a clear nose.  The hiccups are better, too.  She still gets them, but only every few days.

Two surprising things came from cutting dairy from my diet.  One: the ranitidine became unnecessary almost overnight.  Where once we were counting the minutes until the next dose, now I would sometimes forget to give it to her right away.  (Cutting the medicine cold turkey can cause an acid rebound..)  And two: her pooping became more regular.  She had been going every four to five days and then having blow-out poops.  Her tummy wasn't hard and it is normal for some breastfed babies to wait days between pooping, but as the milk proteins left her body, she began pooping four to five times per day again.  (The color and consistency were gold and seedy so this was not diarrhea.)

Cutting dairy from my diet has not been as difficult as I expected.  I've never been a milk drinker, but I do miss cheese and I have a feeling that, foregoing ice cream this summer will be tough.  It can be tricky planning meals for my family, too, but there are so many good foods and flavors that don't involve dairy.  It simply takes new thinking. (I also discovered early that she and I can tolerate small bits of chocolate.  Better yet, Ghirardelli semi-sweet chocolate is made without milk.  The milk chocolate, obviously, but also the dark chocolate, do contain milk.)

I"ve added probiotic supplements both to my diet and to hers, to aid in gut health and healing. I bought mine over the counter at Target.  I specially ordered Macie's from Amazon.  It is a multi-species probiotic in powdered form, made specially for infants that contains 10 billion CFUs. I wet my finger so that the powder will stick and let her suck it off.  She loves it!

Today, Macie had a follow-up with her pediatrician. The doctor was pleased that she has gained weight. Reflux babies often lose weight either from excessive spitting up or because they resist eating when they associate it with pain.  In fact, Macie weighs a little over eleven pounds now-- only the ninth percentile for babies her age, but up from the third percentile where she hovered for awhile. The best thing is that she can use the medicine on a needs-only basis.

There were many days that the kids and I prayed for Macie  and asked the Lord to either make her well or give us patience and the wisdom to comfort her.  We are so thankful for Macie's health!

Why everyone should have a baby when there are older children in the house

Macie will be 2 months old this week.  My other five kids range in age from 5 to 13.  In fact, we're at the easy part of the year when there is an even two years between everyone's ages-- 5, 7, 9, 11, and 13.  That all changes when birthday season begins in July!   When the others were tiny, motherhood was physically demanding.  There was always someone who needed to be carried or bathed or fed.  It was also mentally and emotionally demanding.  How can I meet the needs of all these little people well?  How can I do it and not let my house disintegrate into dust and clutter?

The 5-year break between kids gave me surprising perspective.  I don't feel as though I'm the same mom I was to the others.  Everyone needs to have a baby when they have older kids in the house.  Obviously I speak in jest.  I know people can't or don't have children for a variety of reasons, but there is peace and clarity that comes with time and age.

This time around I have older children who want to share my workload.  They ask if they can help-- to vacuum, cook, or hold the baby.  Having responsible baby-holders (versus ones who must be hovered over while they practice with the baby propped on pillows) is a game-changer. Moms of tiny ones understand the luxury of putting on a load of laundry using both hands.  Or even-- gasp!-- going to the bathroom alone. 

As on older mom, I also have the wisdom of fleeting time.  I understand and appreciate that this baby could be the last and I'm able to savor her a little more.  I'm in no hurry for her to grow up.  When she abandoned that scrunched-up newborn pose, with her legs pulled to her body in a classic fetal position, I felt a little sad inside. Watching her little legs developing fat rolls and witnessing her first gummy smiles are rocking my world. Each milestone is sweet. 

I'm not even minding the lack of sleep.  Admittedly, Macie is a good sleeper.  [She naps in the front wrap every morning.  She sleeps 2-3 hours in the afternoon in bed on her own and catnaps in arms in the evening.  She typically goes to bed around ten, waking once or twice to nurse before getting up at seven.]  But life and sleep with a baby is unpredictable and I'm learning not to mind.  I can even smile when I'm rubbing my sleepy eyes as I sit up with a nursing or wide awake baby in the wee hours of the morning. 

You know how everyone tells you to enjoy the baby years because they go so quickly.  I used to believe it my mind but struggle to put it into practice.  Now I've witnessed the truth of those words and I'm finally at a place where I can let go and savor.  Sure.  I still get frustrated and wish I could get more sleep or wish I could do something besides hold the baby all day long, but I know this stage won't last. I'm able to say to myself, "It's only one night. This isn't forever."  I'm don't have to rock my 13-year-old to sleep and my 11-year-old does not wake me at 5 am.  It won't last.

Before Macie was born, the ladies at my church gave me a baby shower.  Each woman in attendance wrote a message of encouragement on the front of a diaper.  They were called "middle of the night" diapers and were meant to uplift my spirit as I shuffled through the sleep-deprived nights with a newborn.  As it turns out, Macie was too tiny to wear those diapers in the beginning, but we're delving into them now.  I choose one on days or moments when I'm feeling particularly vulnerable or overwhelmed. Reminders that "the days (and nights) are long, but the years are short" or "the Lord will see you through" are just what I need at those times.  Another diaper said simply, "Pray," so I did.  And another said, "Eat a cookie." It's good advice all around! 

I think I'm gaining a new perspective on bad days.  A few weeks ago, we had a day when Macie didn't sleep or stop crying almost all day long.  Last Sunday, she was restless, fussy, and loud throughout the morning and I spent most of the church service out in the hall, even though a few of my kids were singing with the children's choir and I wanted to watch them!   On Tuesday, every time I laid Macie down for a nap, she woke back up, and didn't settle down for good until after 3 pm!  I texted Brian that we were having a rough day.  He texted back that he was sorry and I surprised myself by responding, "Just life.  It's okay."  And I meant it.  Despite my frustration, lack of free time, and the state of my messy house, I was choosing to put it in perspective. Those days, and any other day, is just a blip in time.

All this is not to show what a great and patient person I am.   I am not.   I like things just-so and prefer schedules-- and all things-- to go my way.  It's not to brag that I can get less sleep and not complain.  I do sometimes.  But the Lord is working on me.  Having a baby with older children in the house is transforming my thinking.  I'm more focused on people, not perfection.  Motherhood is changing me. 

(Click here for other posts in this series.)

My Highly Sensitive Child... 7 Years Later

Way back when I started my blog, I shared a little about life as a mom of a high-needs, highly sensitive child.  Owen has been sensitive to smells, colors, sounds, and other stimuli since birth.  For a bit of background, read this article that I shared on 5 Minutes for Mom in 2008.  I reworked that article for my own blog in 2010. You can read that version with updates here.  

One of the hardest parts of parenting a child with sensitivities is feeding them well.  Because Owen had a strong gag reflex, making him eat vegetables or meat or things with color was not simply a matter of insisting that he swallow what was on his plate. His pickiness was not a battle of wills (though it sometimes came down to that) or even a matter of preferences, but eating engaged all five of his highly-trained senses.  Owen was the child who could identify what we were having for dinner by what he could smell from his bedroom.  I'll never forget the day he asked if we were having peas because he could smell them.  Who knew peas had a distinctive smell?  The color of his food and they way it felt in his mouth affected whether he wanted to eat it.  (I wrote about our philosophy for feeding picky eaters here.)

Other people often took Owen's fear of crowds and people personally.  They assumed that if he wouldn't talk to them, he didn't like them.  They didn't realize that he did the same things with people he knew and loved.  Being in a group was an external stimuli in which he needed help to adapt.  We worked extensively with him on learning to make eye contact and answer when someone spoke to him, but those were difficult issues for him to overcome. (I have other children who are shy, but this went beyond shy.)

a photo from my sister's birthday 6 years ago:

All the kids posed except for Owen who could not look at the camera.

Seven years have passed since that original article from 2008. So how does life look with a highly-sensitive 9-year old?

Owen has learned to adapt to his own needs.  He cuts the tags out of his own shirts, leaves the room when I vacuum, and sleeps all night long without getting up.

He still feels things deeply.  He can be happy one minute and down in the dumps the next.  He has high highs and low lows.  He can be in a group setting, though, or attend a party, without a breakdown.  If he knows all the details like who is going to be there, what he'll be eating, and how long it will last, he thrives. 

Food can still be challenging, but he has made epic strides.  The boy who once liked only white or tan items (potatoes, bread, noodles, etc.) eats a variety of foods.  He shocked me last week when he said, "I LOVE carrots."  Yes, that's coming from the boy who ate no vegetable by choice until he was seven!  He takes far longer than the rest of us to eat his dinner, often because he is chewing slowly and picking specks (pepper or perceived "burned" areas) off of his meat.  (We insist it be done discreetly.)  He is open to trying new foods now, too.  He discovered  a few months that he likes coconut.

We eat dinner at church many Wednesday nights.  There is always a main dish and an alternate "kid-friendly" option.  More often than not, Owen chooses the adult main dish over nuggets or macaroni which would have been unheard of even a year ago.  He's sampled chili, alfredo sauce, and pork with no coaxing from me.  He doesn't  like everything he samples, but just the fact that he wants to try it is improvement.

Owen at age 9, gladly smiling and posing for the camera

Parenting Owen can offer challenges, but patience and time has proven to be just what he needed to become the vibrant boy that he is today.

By the way, he's not afraid of ceiling fans or flamingos (or much of anything) anymore either!

How Do You...Set Bedtimes When Children Are Different Ages?

How do you juggle multiple bedtimes? 

I answered this question during the original run of this series and much of what I said remains the same, but as my kids have gotten older we've made slight changes.  (Click here to read what I said then.)

Since my 3-year-old and 5-year-old no longer nap, they are ready for bed by 7:00-7:30 pm.  They brush their teeth, get a drink of water, and sit on their beds while I make the rounds.  I usually take a few minutes to read Alaine a story, talk to her about her day, or discuss what is coming up tomorrow  She also likes me to lay out her clothes for the next day.  (She has a touch of OCD like her Mama.)  Then I move on to Ben's room. He reads aloud to me for about 5 minutes before I turn out the lights. Both kids listen to music as they fall asleep. 

My older kids (ages 7, 9, and 11) aren't ready to sleep at 7 pm, but we need quiet in the house so as not to disturb the younger two.  Since Alaine occupies the girls' room and Ben occupies the boys' room, the older kids are allowed to hang out in the master bedroom after 7.  They each read for 20 minutes and then they rotate nights choosing an audio book.  While listening, they are allowed to look at books, draw, or color, but no playing or loud talking is allowed. When they finish a disc of their audio book, they have to straighten the room and head to their own bedrooms-- usually around 9 pm.

*****

My How Do You...? series is back for a limited time.  I'm in need of some fun ideas for topics.  What do you want to know? Leave a comment here or on my Facebook page. 

In the meantime, you can browse the archived index of past topics.

31 Days, 31 Smiles {Day 6}: Getting the Wiggles Out Before Bed

A little over two years ago, I was pregnant with Alaine.  That summer it felt like Brian was never home.  He works overtime every spring and summer, but at eight months pregnant, I was exhausted and overwhelmed with four other children, ages seven and under.  Bedtime and  dinnertime were tied for being the two hardest times of the entire day.  We lived in a small townhouse with not a lot of space for my little ones to let out their boundless energy.  Add to that the fact that it was one of the hottest summers on record. 

One evening I sat in my chair, willing myself to gather the energy to hustle everyone up to bed.  Their (happy) squeals and their skipping wildly around the room inspired me to gather them into a semi-circle in front of me and introduce our new before-bed activity: Singing Time.  I wracked my brain for every loud, action-filled song I could come up with and I encouraged them to wiggle and shout with purpose.  We repeated this every night that I had to do bedtime solo. 

Some of our favorites songs included:

• The Itsy-Bitsy Spider
• Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes
• Father Abraham
• If You're Happy and You Know It
•  The Hokey-Pokey
• I've Got the Joy, Joy, Joy
• Old MacDonald
• B-I-N-G-O
• Deep and Wide

The key to this, though, was containing their energy at the end.  When they collapsed onto the floor after a loud rendition of  "Father Abraham," I quietly put my finger to my lips and began a quieter song or two.  Usually we sang "Jesus Loves Me" or "Rock-a-Bye Baby" or "God is So Good."  Then, as a group, we all tip-toed upstairs for bed. 

I'm not pregnant anymore and we don't live in a two-story house anymore either, but my kids still love when I occasionally gather them together for a before-bed, get-out-the-wiggles Singing Time.  It does wonders for the soul...and for the wiggles, too!

How Do You... Keep A Toddler in Bed?

How do you keep a toddler from getting up after she's been put to bed?

I mentioned recently that we had moved Alaine to a mattress on the floor after she learned to climb out of her crib.  A reader asked how the transition was going.  She had recently moved her toddler son to a bed and was having a terrible time keeping him from getting up at night.

When we first moved Alaine, she felt so big and grown up that she laid still and fell asleep without any attempt to get up.  It was only a few days before the newness wore off, though,  and she realized she could get up and play at nap or bed time.  For us, consistency was key even when it seemed to do no good.  Every time I found her up, I disciplined her and put her back to bed.  Even if it went on for hours (which it did a few times) and even if it meant she stayed awake all of nap time, I still continued to enforce that she stay in bed.  She still gets up a few times a week, but I think she is slowly getting the message.

Ooops!  Mama didn't catch the play time until it was too late!

Our boys are a trickier matter.  At age 6 and almost 4, they have been sleeping through the night for years, but this summer, they decided to change that.  Either one or both of them got up every night!  At first we got up to take them to the bathroom or get them a drink or tuck them back into bed, but then we realized that they were doing it based on habit, more than on true need.  We told them that we would not be getting up in the night unless there was an emergency.  Within a day or two, the night wakings stopped.  Well, at least they stopped waking me up.  Instead, three or four mornings a week, I wake with Benjamin asleep in the floor by my bed. 

napping in Mama's bed

I mentioned it to my friend, Allyson, and she said, "You know what?  He won't do that when he's 15." 

No, he won't! 

Yes, we want to instill good habits and yes, we want a good night sleep for everyone involved, and yes, we want our children to learn to do what they're told, but it's not going to be this way forever.  It may be a struggle now, but every child will learn to sleep! 

How do you keep your toddler in bed?  Let us know in the comments. 

Also, if you have a question for a future "How Do You...?" post, share that in the comments, too, or send me an e-mail! I'd love to hear from you. 

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How Do You... Keep Kids Out Late?

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How do you prepare to keep your kids out past their bedtime? 

We discovered early in our parenting journey that it was easiest to keep kids at home close to their bedtimes.  Having sleepy, cranky kids in the car or out at the store or even at the playground was more effort than it was worth.  However, sometimes it is necessary to be out past the time when our kids are usually in bed. 

There are a few things to I do to prepare.

1) I adjust naptime.  I let the little ones sleep a little later into the afternoon so that they are well rested and not ready to go to bed quite so early. 

2) When appropriate, I pack a snack to hand out during our evening outing.  Food gives them the extra fuel to keep going a little longer.  Plus it is a great distraction.  It also means that when we return home, little ones can go straight to bed.

3) I pack pajamas to be worn on the ride home.  Anytime I think we'll be out late, I slip pajamas into my purse or diaper bag.  If we're with friends or family, I change the kids before we leave.  On the Fourth of July, we were at a nearby town for a fireworks show.  It didn't end until ten o'clock so while we were waiting for the parking lot to clear enough for us to leave, I dressed the youngest kids for bed and buckled them into their car seats.  When we arrived home, Brian transferred sleeping bodies directly into bed.  

How do you prepare to be out late?  Let us know in the comments. 

Also, if you have a question for a future "How Do You...?" post, share that in the comments, too, or send me an e-mail! I'd love to hear from you. 

How Do You...Juggle Multiple Bedtimes?

How do you manage bedtime with a wide range of ages? 

When my kids were all under five, it was easy to keep a single bedtime.  In the summer, it was between 8 and 8:30.  In the winter, it was between 7:00 and 8:00.  We noticed, however, that as Gavin grew older, he wasn't ready to sleep as early as the younger ones.  It was also harder to convince him it was bedtime when the summer sun still seeped around the pulled curtains.  Since he shared a bedroom with his younger (sleepier) siblings, we gave him the privilege of going to bed with a book.  He was allowed to stay up until he was tired as long as he was reading.  Reading settled him and made him sleepy so we never had to set restrictions on his reading time. 

When we moved to our new house last year, the boys got a bedroom and the girls got another.  We still keep Alaine's bed in our room, though, so we worked out a new bedtime routine.  Between 7:30-8:00, we all pray together and the three youngest are tucked into bed.  Gavin and Maddie then go into the girls' bedroom to listen to a portion of an audiobook.  They are allowed to stay up until 9:30-10:00, but the guidelines are similar to what they would be if they were in bed.  They cannot be loud.  Then cannot come out into the house for drinks or snacks or to talk.  Unless they need to use the bathroom, they need stay in the bedroom, quietly listening and winding down. 

Do your kids have different bedtimes?  How do you manage it?  Let us know in the comments.

If you have a question for a future "How Do You...?" post, share that in the comments, too, or send me an e-mail!     

"Beware, You Baby Trainers" (a tongue in cheek take on sleeping through the night)

If you are mom, you know the infamous question: is your baby sleeping through the night yet?  It is like a rite of passage.  Your baby does not achieve "good baby" status until he sleeps from evening until morning without waking.  My first four babies slept in my bed and didn't begin to sleep through until around eighteen months old.  Alaine was our first baby who preferred her own bed and began sleeping all night well before she turned a year old.  Having the baby sleep for eleven straight hours equals a full night of rest for Dad and Mom, right?!

It's a myth, I tell ya! 

Last night I put Alaine to bed at 7:30.  Benjamin and Owen followed a little after 8.  At 8:45, a large boy-shaped shadow appears on the wall, but when I call out a name, the shadow disappears and a bed spring creaks.  At 9:15, a voice whispers my name and I go into the boys' bedroom to lay down the law.  Brian and I go to bed several hours later (we are night owls!), but sometime in the night, Owen arrives at my bedside and crawls in beside me.  He's cold so I bundle the covers around him.  After having him toss and turn for too long beside me, he kicks up his legs and says, "I'm hot with all these blankets!"  I whisper to him that it is time to go back to his own bed.  "Okay," he says, "but I need a drink and some music first."  I peek at the clock and, though it is still dark, realize that it is close to morning and too much commotion will wake Alaine so I send him back to bed without his requests.  

As I drift off to sleep, Owen returns and says, "I just have one question."  I ignore him, hoping he'll go away.  He repeats, "I just have one question...where is Ben?"  

"Is he not in your bed?" I ask.  When he answers no, I stumble out of my bed and walk across the house to the boys' bedroom when I discover that not only is Ben not in bed, he is not in the room!  I'm slightly startled by this discovery, but having forgotten to grab my glasses from the bedside table, I'm feeling a considerable handicap.  (Without my glasses, my vision is 20/400.)  By this time, Gavin is whispering from his top bunk, wondering why we are up.  I ask one of the boys to find me a flashlight so I have light to aid my blindness.  Owen finds one under the Christmas tree and I begin my search.  I look in the closet and under the bed. I look in Maddie's room.  I look in the living room and on the sofa.  I look in the dining room, growing more frantic all the time.  

Finally, I shine the light into my bedroom and walk around the bed to Brian's side.  There lies Ben asleep on the floor.  I turn off the flashlight, tell the older boys that their little brother is safe and well, then I flop back in bed for an hour...before Alaine wakes for the day.

Sleep through the night?!  It's a myth, I tell ya!

31 Days {Day 16}: Tackling Bedtime

As mothers of little ones, there areas of struggle that we deal with on a daily basis.  Bedtime is a biggie! 

How is it that children get rowdier as they grow sleepier?!  When I'm tired, I tend to slow down, talk less, and settle my body.  My children do the opposite until the energy in the house has reached a dangerous level.  Bedtime is not the quiet, peaceful affair I wish it to be. 

Our three oldest children (8, 7, and 5) are responsible for their own nightly routine.  They put on their pajamas, use the potty, brush their teeth, choose a CD to listen to or a stuffed animal to sleep with, and get into bed.  (Just because they are responsible for this routine doesn't mean they do each thing in perfect order without reminders.  It also doesn't mean there isn't a nightly tussle over which boy needs to pee "baaaaaad" and who can wait to go second.) 

In the meantime I am free to ready the littlest ones (3 and 13 months) for bed.  This is when I am so grateful when Brian is home with us.  He will often take Benjamin for his last potty run of the day and dress him for bed while I nurse Alaine and tuck her in to her bed in our room.  If I am home alone during bedtime, I juggle the best I can, choosing to either put Alaine to bed before I begin the others' routine... or wait until they are finished before I start with her.

When we lived in a townhouse and before Alaine was born, the three oldest kids (2 boys and 1 girl) shared a bedroom.  When Brian was home, he would pray with them and put them to bed while I settled the almost 2-year-old (Benjamin) into his bed in our room. 

Last summer when I was pregnant, Brian worked many late evenings while I was on my own at bedtime-- a truly overwhelming prospect.  My coping mechanism was to gather everyone for bed earlier than usual and spend time in their room reading and singing while I rested my aching back.  It turned a potentially chaotic time into a sweet time of fun and warm memories.

Right after Alaine was born, I noticed that Benjamin was feeling a little misplaced while he adjusted to his new status as big brother.  We began our own little routine at bedtime that eased some of his insecurity.  I would take him upstairs and while the baby was quietly nursing, I would ask Benjamin what two songs he would like to sing for his bedtime songs.  (For weeks, he chose "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" followed by "The Bear Went Over the Mountain," though he eventually branched out to "Veggie Tales" and "Jesus Loves Me.")  Those few minutes of one-on-one time at the end of the day were precious to both of us and calmed his delicate heart for sleep. 

What are your tricks for making bedtime go (more) smoothly? 






{Disclaimer: Though this post was written to give you ideas and to illustrate how our family handles bedtime, remember that you are walking your own path!}

It's a trade-off.

In my mind, bedtime should be an easy, orderly affair.   Everyone goes upstairs to put on their pajamas.  They all take turns brushing their teeth.  Everyone gets a drink and finds a stuffed animal to sleep with.  One child picks out the music to play while falling asleep.  Brian prays with them, and I kiss them goodnight, cover them, and go about putting Alaine to bed in a quiet house.  

The fact is that the reality is quite different surprises me almost every night. 

The chaos that is our refrigerator

After dinner last night, our house turned into a rodeo  The kids were horse and rider.  Sometimes the horse was imaginary.  Sometimes the horse was someone else.  There was lots of squealing and hollering and running through the house.  I did a lot of, "Don't you know you aren't supposed to run in here?" and "Please quiet down.  The neighbors might hear you!"  Noise and chaos don't always sit well with me.  I like books stacked neatly  and not scattered on the floor.  I  also like pictures in a row, but I'm learning to leave my refrigerator door alone.

I regress.

So then it was time for bed.  Owen brushed his teeth in 20 seconds flat and Brian had to send him to do it again...twice.  Benjamin pooped in his diaper...for the fourth time...so I had to change him again.  Alaine was rubbing her eyes and trying to fall asleep, but I didn't want to put her to bed because I knew the hoopla would wake her up.  Brian was calling through the house asking whose turn it was to pick music.  Gavin and Owen started swinging for the bunk bed rails, saying that they were monkeys.  Maddie decided she needed a different something to sleep with...and, oh...she had forgotten to get a drink.  Finally, kisses were given and lights turned out.  Alaine had gotten her second wind and wasn't sleepy anymore so I took her downstairs to start the laundry while Brian took a shower.  In the meantime, the boys had a fight over the covers and one yelled, "You're a robber!" to the one who was hogging the blanket.

whispering secrets

It is nights like these that makes me wonder if all my work as a mama is paying off.  Shouldn't these kids that I spend every day shaping, training, and molding be a little more orderly?  Shouldn't they know this routine by now?  Shouldn't they be able to sit still?  Shouldn't they shush when I'm talking?  Shouldn't they settle into bed without a ruckus?

Then I remember earlier in the day when Owen sat in the floor with Alaine, holding her hand and whispering in her ear.  I remember when Gavin and Maddie helped me dry the dishes and then said, "What else do you need, Mama?"  I think about Benjamin bringing Alaine a pile of toys every morning and the rush to the door when Brian comes home every night.  I think of the get well cards that are made every time someone bumps their knee or has a stuffy nose. 

Sometimes obedient and well-trained and loving doesn't always equal quiet and orderly.
Sometimes I need to remember that kids are kids, not little adults.
And sometimes I need a reminder that being neat and quiet takes a back seat to raising Godly people.

Peace, Be Still

It was late in the evening when the rumbles started.  It started in the distance-- the sky booming under its breath. Then flashes of light burst through the slits in the blinds, illuminating the darkened dining room.  We scrambled to unplug appliances and gather candles as the storm gathered strength.  Rain clawed at the windows and then suddenly, all went dark.  Brian dug up the only flashlight with working batteries while I stumbled into the kitchen to put dirty glasses in the sink.  Then the lone beam lighted out pathway up the stairs for bed. 

But another gentler sound joined the chaos of nature.  A soft whimper met my ears and I made my way to Benjamin's side.  He sat up on his knees in bed, eyes bleary, whispy hair sticking up in all directions.  His Buzz and Woody T-shirt clung to his sweaty chest and he reached for me.  I attempted to settle him back in bed, singing a lullaby and rubbing his hair back into place.  Still he whimpered.  I gathered him into my arms and settled him into bed with me.  While the storm raged outside the window, while the wind howled with a blizzard's vengeance (though it was still 85 degrees), while the sun-dried leaves brushed against the window screens, Benjamin closed his eyes and fell into a care-free slumber. 

As He often does, the Lord choose to speak to me in one of the vulnerable moments of the night.  Just as Benjamin surrendered all his fears in the comfort of my arms, HE wants me to do the same with Him.  He doesn't want to me to be calm after the storm.  He wants to be to rest in Him in the midst of the storm. 

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

Read more: Things That Go Sniff in the Night

                   A Night of Grace

Things That Go Sniff in the Night

The night was quiet.  Brian was watching a basketball game on TV and I was sitting here, as I am now, working on a post for my blog.  Suddenly, a whimper cut through the stillness of the upstairs.  I sat for a moment, ears trained to distinguish which of my children was in distress by simply listening to the tone of the sleepy cries.  "Owen," I whispered with a sigh, putting the laptop down on the coffee table.

Owen.  The little blonde boy who occupies many of my daytime moments.  The little one who looks up with blue eyes through unbelievably long eyelashes, often stained with tears, and asks repeatedly if I'll play a game...read a book...find a green crayon...build a tower.  Owen.  The child who still would rather I feed him his dinner so he won't have to put the yucky foods to his own lips.  My boy who is so sensitive to tastes and feels and smells.  The little one who can't sit still until I cut the offending tags from his shirt and who can identify anything I am cooking by smell-- even something so smell-less as peas. 

This Owen who requires so much of time during the day is now asking of my time in the late night, too.  But my mother's heart is drawn to him.  I tiptoe into his room, careful not to step on a stray toy or kick the Lego box as I make my way to his bed.  In the dark, I can see the fresh tears drip down his babysoft cheeks and fall on to the comforter below.  "Owen," I say.  "What's wrong?"  I get no answer beyond another sniff.  "Do you need to use the bathroom?"  Still no answer, but I gently lift him onto the floor and lead him to the potty.  No words escape his lips, but I know my son and I know, with only his whimpers, what he needs.  I lift him onto the toilet and wait until he is done, then walk him back to bed and tuck him in.  Still no words have left his mouth, but tears no longer leave his eyes so I sense all is well again. 

It is in these routine mothering moments in the quiet of the night that the Spirit pricks my heart, showing me how like my children I am. 

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

And in those moments, I thank my Father for those times when all I have is a whimper, a groan, a sniff of pain, and yet HE still knows my voice and HE knows what I need and HE gently lifts me and carries me and makes it all right again.