Touchdown!

It's the only time of year we insist they sit down on the couch and watch television.

These two are a big fan of football season.

Bag lady

Aunt Sarah's having a baby, and naturally, Abby wants to be a part of every little thing that goes along with new baby preparations. (She's done this a time or two.)

"I want to make Aunt Sarah a bag," she informed me. "Moms need bags to carry stuff."

Have I mentioned this is not her first rodeo? She's totally right, so we found a simple pattern online, picked some fabric out from the box of fabric-I-bought-thinking-I'd-have-time-to-complete-a-project-one-day, and set to work.

She cut out her pattern, cut out her fabric, pinned, stitched, and only grumbled a little when her bobbin ran out of thread. I mostly supervised, and only had to step in to help when she needed help sewing some rounded corners.

And the end result was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. I might see if I can get her to whip up a little Mom-bag for me sometime.

No one's fault but her own

I don't remember precisely what she said.

Something along the lines of "I'm bored" or "I can't find any socks" or some such nonsense.

Either way, there was a ready pile of clean laundry there to solve her conundrum. She's learning to choose her words more carefully around me.

Clean eating

Maybe he's not a picky eater, after all. Maybe this little cutie pie just loves me so much that he wants to make my life a little easier.

I'm sure that's why he ran off with all my fresh green beans and proceeded to sit in the foyer and eat them right out of the strainer.

He was just trying to save me the trouble of cooking them.

Suited up

Because wouldn't most oceanic creatures benefit from a nice set of custom goggles and an oxygen tank?

Caleb is certain that Sharky is a more confident swimmer now that he's equipped with all this scuba gear.

Letting my four year old use scissors was the right decision. His craftiness is off the charts now.

Shark pocket

About once a month, I make time for this great sewing class with free childcare. I get coffee on the way there, and sit and chat with friends while we work together on whatever the project of the day is.

Typically, it's something cute, and often, something girly. And Caleb was starting to feel a little slighted.

So I had promised him that in the next class, whatever the project was, I would make him something. When I found out we would be sewing pillows, I asked him if he had any special requests.

And he did.

"I want a blue pillow," he told me. "With a pocket on it."

A pocket?

"A shark pocket," he explained. "For my sharks."

Of course. Why didn't I think of that?

A few hours later, and his wish was granted, and his sharks were neatly contained. I have one happy four-year-old. I aim to please around here.

Neverending story

More from the Keeping-It-Real files.

This is what my kitchen looks like after a good day of homeschooling.

At 8 p.m., there are still traces of breakfast, lunch and dinner on the counter. The kids are in bed, but their stuff still litters every available surface. Someone left their shirt in the middle of the floor. The hubby and I will spend the next hour getting this place in clean, working order.

And then the kids and I will destroy it all again tomorrow.

The art of the matter

Abby is in love with art and painting, but alas, the Fisher Preparatory Academy for Excellence in Learning is somewhat lacking in the art department.

Enter Mrs. Porter: artist extraordinaire, dear friend from church, and teacher of a homeschool art class.

We loaded up two of Abby's closest friends in the van, drove to her in-home art studio, and Abby had the time of her life for a solid hour, painting and mixing colors and learning proper brush stroke technique.

I believe we've found our newest obsession.

This is your captain speaking

When your Papa runs the flight simulator at the world's busiest airport, those Authorized Personnel Only signs don't apply to you.

Abby is pretty convinced that she was actually flying this airliner. (Although she wasn't nearly as upset as she should have been about crashing into the wing of that plane in front of her.) Once she got off the ground, she got to buzz downtown Atlanta, fly through a snow storm, and touch down safely back at home.

This weekend's little overnight trip to Mimi and Papa's is one she won't soon forget.

I ♥ my hubby

Reason No. 7,842 why I love my husband:

"Hey, can I paint the front door turquoise? Brown is kind of boring."

"Sure," he replied. "Let me take the door knob off and get the paint stuff out."

There. Now isn't that much more cheerful and welcoming?

Hiding places

"Levi, you just get right in there," whispered Jacob. "Just sit down and be quiet, and I'll come find you."

Enter Mom.

"Jacob," I asked, "why is Levi in the cabinet?"

"He's hiding, Mommy," he answered, in that matter-of-fact way that makes me think he wonders how I can be so dumb sometimes. "We're playing hide and seek."

How silly of me to ask.

Computing

Her dad customized an old laptop for her, and now Abby loves to spend some of her quiet time playing on her very own little computer.

She plays  puzzle games where she has to move the countries to their appropriate locations, word games that test how quickly she can spell, math games that she complains are far too simple, and there's even a simple word processor where she can pluck out some short stories.

The Frog Pond

by Abby Fisher

Once upon a time we went on a hike. We found a pond. There were lots of frogs in it. We caught a lot of them. They jumped up in our hands and tickled. We put them in a Starbucks cup and mommy laughed. We brought two home. We put them in our plants in the backyard. They went into the creek and found a place to live. Hopefully one day they will have more frogs and we will have lots of frogs in our creek. The end.

She's learned how to take the laptop out and put it away, how to connect the mouse, how to plug it in when it needs charging, and how to log in with her very own user name and password. The program her dad installed on it effectively prevents her from ever accessing anything that could harm the computer. And best of all, she has no access to the internet whatsoever.

And I'm learning to give her a head's up if I'm going to need her to do something while she's busy computing.

"I can't right this second Mommy," she'll reply. "I'm working right now. Like Daddy."

A little red ink goes a long way

She told me her math test wasn't a real test, because I'm not a real teacher.

So I pulled out the red pen and started grading. I circled the wrong answers and drew smiley faces by the correct ones. I made her fix her mistakes. And I gave her the grade she earned in big bold red numbers at the top of the page. (It was three points shy of a hundred, a devastating loss for my little perfectionist.)

She's taking me a little more seriously now.

One giant leap

And this is why we've never really been a baby gate family.

Because my kids are not really Respect The Baby Gate people.

It's supposed to be a blockade, Levi. Not a ramp.

He made it himself

His cry rang out loud and clear from the upstairs bathroom.

"Mooooooooommmmmmyyyyyy!"

"Do you need me, Jacob?" I yelled back, hoping the answer was no.

"Mooooooooommmmmmyyyyyy! Just come here!"

I trudged up the stairs and found him seated just where I had expected.

"Do you need something?" I asked, hoping he could solve this potty issue on his own.

"Mommy," he said, batting those long lashes and staring up at me with those big brown eyes, "stay here with me."

"Why do you need me to hang out in the bathroom with you?" I inquired.

"Because," he answered, "I need you to just wait. I'm making you something."

Gee. Thanks.

Mean mommy

I wouldn't let him eat his lollipop in the car.

Shame on me.

Properly armed

I thought I had discovered something my son was just truly terrible at.

Turns out, I simply hadn't armed him with the proper tool.

I have a No Scissors Until You're Five rule, mostly because I don't feel like supervising anyone under the age of 5 with sharp objects. But Caleb was tired of having to beg someone to cut out all the trucks and sharks he was drawing, and I felt sorry for the poor guy. So I gave him Abby's kid scissors and let him have at it.

It was awful.

He may as well have been trying to cut a straight line with his eyes closed, using only his toes. Nothing he cut out even remotely resembled what he was trying to make. I watched him closely, to see if I could find some reason for his total lack of coordination.

He held the paper in his right hand, and awkwardly gripped the scissors in his left. He was holding them upside down, and compensating for the difficulty of upside down cutting by contorting his left arm so that his wrist pointed backward toward his elbow as he craned his neck to see over his right arm to what he was trying to trim.

Poor little lefty. We headed out to buy him some left handed scissors pretty immediately. I never knew just how critical they were before.

Back at home with his specialized scissors, he cut and sliced and trimmed like a champ. His sharks were shaped like sharks. His trucks had rounded wheels. Turns out, he's actually pretty skilled at this whole Cutting With Scissors thing.

I guess it's time to amend my rules a little.

Trail of crumbs

Levi, when I asked you where your snack was, it was more of a rhetorical question. I knew it was right there on the table where I left it.

I don't need you wandering around the house with plates of cheese puffs, okay?

Seven years running

September 2013
Abby (6), Levi (13 months), Caleb (4), Jacob (2)

We headed out the door to kick off our seventh year of Community Bible Study this morning. I broke a sweat getting them dressed, getting lunches packed and getting out the door on time, but we made it, and that's what counts. (As a side note, we're sticking with velcro shoes only. I still really need for them to learn to tie their own shoes.)

And yes, I continue to bribe them with marshmallows so that I can continue to get this picture every year. One day they'll thank me.

Abby's in the 1st grade class this year and is bringing home "actual homework, that I actually have to do at home."

Caleb is in a combined pre-k/kindergarten class, without homework, but with his friend Gloria from our homeschool co-op. This is a big deal, since he and Gloria are pretty big fans of each other.

Jacob and Levi are both hamming it up in their Little Lambs classes. And if today is any indicator of how the year will go, I think this will be a great one. Both boys ran into their classes with open arms and big hugs for their new teachers, making it that much easier for me to scurry upstairs to my own class.

No argument here

I am convinced there is no better way a four year old boy can spend the hours between dinner and bedtime than by going on the adventures that Caleb and his dad go on.

I'm sure Caleb would agree.