My 6 Year Old Doesn't Believe in the Easter Bunny

On Easter Sunday evening Owen was in the kitchen and noticed on the counter some scraps of tissue paper left over from the papier mache eggs I made for the Easter baskets, and he looked up at me and said, "Mom, are you and Dad the Easter Bunny?  You are--aren't you?"

To preface that question, we've been a bit busy recently.  We were gone for spring break, then Jeremy was gone to a conference for a week, then he spent the last week taking his preliminary exam for his PhD.  So really, I was behind on things like--putting out Easter decorations etc.  So to tell the truth--I don't think the word "Easter Bunny" was spoken in our house one single time before Easter this year. 

I'm really not big on indoctrinating my children with worldly traditions.  Because for their first few years, they don't even get what the traditions are all about.  Then maybe for 2-3 years they "know" who Santa clause or the Easter bunny are enough to anticipate them, but then they become old enough to realize they are not real.  So I don't really feel the need to push these ideas on my children for only a year or two of actual beleif (in something that's not real).

But for sure I love the traditions themselves.  When Owen, our first, was about 22 months old, Easter Sunday was approaching.  So for the last few mornings in the week preceding Easter, I had Owen check on his little basket first thing.  It was empty, empty, empty, and then one morning it was full!  There were treats and a little wind-up chicken that laid jelly bean eggs.  What fun!  He was so excited.  But I didn't tell him it was from a magic Easter bunny.

Jeremy is studying Creativity for his PhD, and he recently read of a study where kids were show clips of a Harry Potter movie--some of them watching scenes where "magic" was being used, and some were shown "non-magic" scenes.  Then they were asked to do a creativity exercise.  The children who watched the magic scenes before the exercise showed more creativity in their responses.  So if I want creative children shouldn't I convince them that the Tooth Fairy is real? I don't think that we have to believe the magic is real in order to enjoy pretending the magic is real.  Else why would Harry Potter be so popular to adults as well as children? 

So Owen and I have talked this Easter, and last Christmas (when we read a book about Christmas traditions all over the world) about "isn't it fun?" to do this, or pretend that?  And what do you think?  Could it be, maybe?  But I am not going to insult his intelligence, once he has figured things out to say, "No I'm not the Easter bunny, the Easter bunny magically goes all over the world in one night hopping around and delivering all that candy you saw in the store last week to little baskets.

So back to his question--I answered it truthfully, because I had not been trying to convince him there was an Easter bunny in the first place.  (Though I did encourage him to let people that wanted to believe have their fun.)  My guess is that the kids were all talking about it at school--that's where he was being encouraged in the idea that there was an Easter bunny coming, and that's also where other (older?) children may have sown his seeds of of doubt that there may not be an Easter bunny.  So I just let it be.

We won't stop celebrating the tradition of surprise-filled baskets on Easter morning, because I still think that's fun.  And we don't have to believe it's real to believe it's fun.  And the other truth of the matter is, for Christmas, Easter, or any occasion when surprises "magically appear"  I find it very hard to keep it all a secret in a home where I am trying more and more every year to include more homemade among the surprises.  But will my children be deprived for receiving baskets full of unique homemade surprises and treats instead of a basket full of  the traditional (from my childhood too) supermarket treats? 

I think not.

Wizards in the Backyard

Jeremy has a book of Wizard Craft that is full of projects closely resembling a lot of items and words and stories from Harry Potter, but it's not "officially" Harry Potter.  Owen has been looking through at all the projects recently and announced to me "The first thing I want is a wizard hat.  Mom, you know how to sew so that can be your job."

We went to the fabric store and picked out fabric and it really was very easy.  First we had to make a pattern from a sheet of newspaper.

We measured around Owen's head.  Multiplied that measurement by 4 then divided that number by 6.28.  That length was the length of each of the two straight sides of the hat pattern.  (see the picture) I measured them on the corner of the newspaper so they would be at a 90 degree angle from each other.  Then draw a curved line between them.  (The most precise method is to use a piece of string the right length anchor it at the point of the pattern and swing the string from one side to the other marking a curved line on the pattern.)

We pinned the pattern on the fabric and cut it out adding a half inch seam allowance.  Then we cut out a piece of interfacing the exact size of the pattern.  We ironed that on the wrong side according to the interfacing directions.  With right sides facing we sewed the two straight sides of the hat together.  Then turned it right-side out and sewed under the brim. 

Of course, even though I had asked him if he wanted one three times while I was working on Owen's and he said "no," once I was finished Jonas decided he did want one.  So (sew) repeat.

 The wizards danced with their giant marshmallow torches. . .

Around the fire pit, celebrating the first fire of the season!

Trouble in the Library

I got scolded by a librarian yesterday. 

Because my baby didn't have shoes on.  See, there's a "shoes must be worn at all times" policy in the children's room of the library.  There are signs posted and I was aware of it.  Earlier in our visit I even re-shoed Jonas who had taken his off as he sat down on the floor do do a puzzle.  I reminded him "We wear our shoes in the library."

But Wyatt (who would have normally had shoes on, but Jeremy had prepped him for the outing, and most-likely not knowing that the boys and I were planning to head to the library after dropping him off at campus was unaware that Wyatt probably needed shoes on, and therefore he did not have shoes on) was toddling around and caught the attention of a passing librarian. 

"He needs to have his shoes on." She said while looking at me.  I was picking up a basket of books that Wyatt had knocked over, and hadn't responded as she continued to look at me with her eyebrows raised.  As she was obviously waiting for a response I answered in a plain tone, "He doesn't have shoes."

I then picked him up and sat down with him on a floor chair and nursed him.  Thus proving my point to the library gods that: he's just a baby.  I was aware of the rule, and ordinarily would have not been operating outside of it, but I really didn't think it was that big of a deal for a baby to not be wearing shoes. 

(He actually does have shoes.)

Baby Food Jar Pumpkin Lanterns

 It's beginning to look a lot like. . . Halloween!

 Owen and I worked on this project over the course of a few days.  We left the materials out at the table, and would sit down and work a while every so often. 

 It's a basic painted Mod Podge craft with recycled babyfood jars and scraps of tissue paper.  We used two colors of orange and one color of green.  We did the orange first, let it dry then turned it over and pasted on the green, and then the black faces.  You get the most translucent glass-like look by applying a layer of Mod Podge over the top of it all as well. 

 

We clipped them onto a string of white lights, and the give a brilliant orange glow.

Sleeping and Crying

Jonas came into bed with me last night.   He has done so on and off since his very first night here in this house as a newborn.  All of our children have always had their own bed, for independance, and have always been welcomed into Mom and Dad's bed for many other reasons.  Ease of night-time feedings, extra snuggles, mid-night comforting, and family bonding. 

 The last time Jonas came to bed with us in the night was about two months ago.  At that point he was coming nightly--if not two times each night.  Wyatt, it seemed, was trading off with him, coming once or twice a night at the opposite hours.  Also, the both of them were having trouble going to sleep as well, Wyatt was screaming and crying himself to sleep (whether I was holding and rocking him or not), and Jonas wouldn't fall asleep without Jeremy and I laying in bed with him for 30-60 minutes.   I was about done with it all, but of course the whole situation is of our own making--right?  We made the bed--now sleep in it! 

Well, I was tired of sleeping in it.  So I made a bunch of changes, moved rooms around, disassembled bunks, put up and took down pack-n-plays and attempted to completely overhall our sleeping arangements while causing minimal amounts of crying and distress.

Now two months later we are breathing (or sleeping) free.  Jonas and Wyatt keep each other company at bedtime so that neither of them are lonely.  (And Wyatt doesn't provide the excess amount of "company" that Owen was providing --keeping Jonas wound up all night never sleeping if we weren't laying with him.) Surprisingly night wakings for both boys have significantly decreased since the change.  And Owen is in his own room with a bit more responsibility and independence.  He has a lamp and is allowed to read for 15 minutes before turning out his light and going to bed.

One evening last year I sat in a home as an invited guest, hearing a middle-aged man give advice, about just letting babies cry to sleep--that it works and simplifies life. 

I didn't have a lot to add to that conversation in an attitude of not wanting to contradict my host. The truth is--I don't not let my babies cry.  In fact sometimes I think crying is a valid way of releasing frustration.  But I don't believe in just letting my children cry as a rule.

 I accept that when I am not able or willing to meet every desire of my children, in the moment they feel it, that there will be some crying involved, and I am ok with that--as a part of helping my children know that the entire world doesn't revolve around their whims.  Allowing our children to cry is showing respect for their feelings of disappointment or frustration--letting them know that we believe that they are having very strong feelings rather than just "shush"ing and bouncing them immediately away.  However; in my maidenhood dreaming of one day having children  I didn't plan on having children so that I could just leave them to cry alone in their room.

What I dreamt of was snuggles and hugs, and cuddles and kisses.  So I don't, as a rule, just let my kids cry.  But that is the benefit of being a parent, we understand our children best and don't have to chain ourselves to one person or anther's advice on the "best" way to raise children.  We make our decisions one child at a time, and one naptime at a time.  Which for us means that sometimes there's crying, but always there's love and security. 

Can it Forward

I've been doing a bit of "fun preserving" this summer.  (Canning doesn't have to be all serious and practical.)  It started with the dandelion jelly.

Then I made a triple berry syrup sweetened with honey.

I got crazy with peaches.  Canning a number of jars of quarters in a light syrup.  And using my new thrift store dehydrator to make peach fruit leather, and dried peach slices. 

After all these projects Owen said to me "Oh Mom!  I know, we need to get some blueberries, and can them--for the winter."

He's obviously been reading Blueberries for Sal and thinks he's a genius for coming up with the idea to do the same things for ourselves.  Not like preserving food for the winter isn't what I've been doing already for the last two months!

But who am I to argue with an enthusiastic 6 year old?  So we went and bought some blue berries.

We canned them on Saturday since it was National Can-It-Forward Day.

And who am I to argue with a national day where everyone is supposed to can something?

So we canned blue berries.  Owen wrote out some labels for them.  I love how he mostly ignored my example spelling.  He sounded it out in his head. . . each time. So each label is spelled differently.

Hopefully they will be good for muffins and oatmeal this winter.    And hopefully Owen is getting something out of all the canning going on around here.

Being Useful

My little boys love trains, so we have had the opportunity to view quite a few of the old Thomas the Tank Engine videos.

All of these little model engines work together on the Island of Sodor under the direction of their railway controller Sir Topham Hatt.  (They're British.) Over and over in these little train escapades you come to understand the greatest crime an engine can commit is causing "confusion and delay," and the compliment that they wish the most to hear from Sir Topham Hatt is to be called a "really useful engine."

It seemed a bit silly after a while.  What is "confusion and delay" after all, and the praise of being "really useful" seems hardly anything to brag to your mum about.  That is--until I started to consider those two phrases in my own life.

My little boys can be quite a handful, they are energetic and rambunctious, but the times when I get the most frustrated with them is when they are doing what can --seriously-- be best described as "causing confusion and delay."  Things that aren't inherently bad, but it's just the wrong time for them to be doing it, or it is just exactly the opposite of what would help us get out the door, or get dinner on the table, or whatever it is I'm trying to do at the moment.  It's a great phrase because Sir Topham Hatt simply states with clearness the offense, without exaggerating any false gravity about it all, just "You have caused confusion and delay."  And yes, occasionally I will say that to my boys. 

I've also found it interesting to ponder over the fact that the original books were written by an English Clergyman the Reverend W. Awdry, and wondering in what ways Christian morals may have made their way in--since they were originally written for his own son.  For a long time I felt like there wasn't much to offer by way of real character training other than weird things like: don't switch jobs with your friend unless you ask permission from the controller first. 

Today though, I had a quick thought, to call a friend and offer a specific service.  Nothing big and, quite very possibly, not even necessary.  A bit later, that friend called back, responding to my message with, "That would be a lifesaver!"

And so tonight I've been riding that wave.  That feeling above all feelings--that I was "a really useful engine" to someone with a small need.  I hope I will always remember to not try and seek glory for myself.  To remember that the most important thing is not to become famous or acclaimed, but to serve my Father in Heaven by serving those around me.

"I know that which the Lord hath commanded me, and I glory in it. I do not glory of myself, but I glory in that which the Lord hath commanded me; yea, and this is my glory, that perhaps I may be an instrument in the hands of God. . ."  [Alma 29:9]

And when my time on earth is completed I hope God will look over my life and with a nod of approval, tell me simply, and without extra fuss, that I was "really useful".

Hot Topics

Yesterday Jeremy and I took our three young boys into Hot Topic. 

Of course I had some trepidation about doing so but I had a very specific reason for being there.  I wanted to find some small MarioKart figurines (maybe key chain guys or something) that I could use to decorate Owen's birthday cake.  I was sure Hot Topic would deliver, but I was definitely worried about what else the boys might see or say while in that store.  "Mom what is that?"  "Mom, how come [insert anything random and embarrassing here]?"

Luckily I quickly found exactly what I was looking for.  Some little candy dispensers with Mario Karts on the top that I was sure I could pop off and use like I wanted. So far so good--we walk to the checkout counter and to our waiting friendly cashier "Shawn."   I see that he has a barbell through each side of his lower lip.  Owen stands next to me and looks up at the young man.

I hold my breath.

Shawn starts ringing up our merchandise  Owen leans toward the counter and asks Shawn, "Do you believe in God?"

As I'm getting over my shock and trying to figure out where that question came from, I can't decide whether or not this is worse than if he had asked the guy why he had piercings all over his face.

"What?" asks Shawn.

"Do you believe in God?" Owen repeats.

"Sure--I guess so." He stammers.

I notice his t-shirt has the words "Lamb of God" printed across it.  (A band name I'm guessing.)  "Ah," I say while giving Owen a push away from the counter to go wait by Jeremy.  "I think he was reading your shirt"

"My shirt?" Shawn looks down. 

"He's a pretty advanced reader for a kindergartener,"  I say with a chuckle as I take my bag and walk away from the counter and the group of people waiting in line behind me. 

As I walk away I think how funny that exchange was, and how though it was sort of awkward--it wasn't as awkward as I would have thought.  And who knows, maybe Shawn needed that question yesterday.  Maybe it's time for Shawn to address some hot topics in his own life. 

Fair Treats

After dinner on Saturday Jeremy announced we were going to have our dessert at the county fair!  I had almost forgotten that it was fair weekend and would have been crushed to miss my annual opportunity to enjoy a funnel cake. 

 We love taking the boys to see the fair animals.  They need that exposure to the animals, both those they are familiar with and those they aren't.  Last year we watched--yes watched--a pig give birth while we were at the fair.  Now that's educating our children!

 The boys were right at home running up and down between the chicken cages.  And They love sticking their fingers inside all the bunny cages to feel their soft fur.

My favorite part of the evening was --in anticipation of the dessert he had been promised--Jonas saw the home garden produce on display and lunged at a plate of cherry tomatoes exclaiming, "Oh!  There's some treats!"

Oh how I love my boys!  (And don't worry--the produce survived.)

New Dreams

Jeremy and I lived in the same town for only the last month and a half of our six month engagement.  We made up for the lack of proximity with daily conversations over the internet and telephone.  Like every giddy engaged couple we spend countless hours dreaming.  We dreamed of our marriage, our homes, our children, our lifestyle.

Since marriage we've continued to enjoy dreaming together, we discuss politics and theory and personal experiences--all these things adding to our collective ideas about life, how we see things and the goals we set for ourselves, and how we see our family's life. 

For much of our marriage I've spent the time away from Jeremy waiting for him to come back--whether he's at work or school--so we can "do things" together. So we can do all the things we've talked about wanting to do together.  This waiting has continued even since our children have been born.  We wait for daddy to come home so we can go to the park together, or work on a project together, because even though Jeremy is doing things without us--I haven't wanted to do things without him.  Because these things are our dreams. 

It was never our dream for Jeremy's professional life to include a lot of me,  but our family dreams were meant to include Jeremy.  And so we've waited.  We've waited for Jeremy to go to the zoo; we've waited for Jeremy to go to the farmer's market; we've waited for Jeremy to read a new book.  All these things are good.  Jeremy has to be a part of our family dreams, but now it's time for some new dreams. 

It's time for me to start dreaming about my life, with my boys, without Jeremy.  Because if we always wait for Jeremy to come home before we do anything we will be missing out on a whole lot of our lives.    This seems so obvious and yet it's taken me a long time to come to this realization.  When we were engaged I dreamed of our life together--I didn't spend my time dreaming of what our life apart would look like after we got married--but it's time now.  My boys need me.  My children and I will dream of our future days together--what we will do while their daddy is away. 

We need to be active, we need to have fun, we need to learn.  We need to do it all while Jeremy is away from us.  And we need to not feel guilty about it.

 

Boys in the Backyard

The boys are bored and bothering each other. “Everyone put boots on and go out back!” I banish them with an abrupt order. Beneath the abundant beaming rays of sun, the boys begin to blossom. They imbibe the fresh air, taking deep breaths of the balmy afternoon breeze.

Then they break—each one obliged to obey their own beckoning impulses, oblivious to inhibition. Footwear becomes too cumbersome for the job so boots are abandoned for bare feet. The babble of voices bubbles across the backyard.

The baby climbs aboard the bicycle—his toes barely brushing the blades of grass. He bounces above the bike beaming with infant pride.

Jonas begins by bothering the bantams. The band of birds scatters in defense, but Jonas breaks through the barricade and grabs a baby chicken, tossing the bundle over his shoulder--exhibiting his trophy around the backyard like a tribute bestowed upon him for bravery.

The hole Owen's been digging  by the old battered boat is unmistakably bigger than before. His brain is busy contemplating his make-believe obligation. Satisfied, he buries his feet beneath the brown dirt.

Any passing object could become the new beneficiary of the obsessive attention of three little boys. Birds, bees, butterflies and bunny rabbits each take a turn bisecting the yard, bringing momentary bedlam, which usually ends as abruptly as it began as the boys go back about their own business.

It’s abominable to head back indoors but as blue above begins to darken and slow blinks begin to linger longer—I know it’s time to beckon my little boys in for a quick bath before bedtime. The boisterous noises ebb as the boys break for the night. Owen lags behind, a little caboose, hesitant to leave his personal arboretum of bliss. “Don’t be sad,” I bolster his spirits, “The fun will be back again with daybreak.”



This typical summer afternoon was brought to you by the letter “B”.  Read More.

Not-Boring Easter Basket Candy Substitutions

Ten years ago, when looking at expensive pre-filled Easter baskets at the grocery store, I would scoff.  To me the baskets filled with toy cars and fashion dolls rather than candy seemed to embody a way for society to be manipulated into celebrating all holidays by buying gifts instead of some of the simpler traditions.  Ten years later I have a different opinion.  Not that I would want to buy a pre-filled basket, but that maybe small toys have a better place in our children's Easter baskets than a 4 1/2 month supply of candy. 

At Owen's first Easter he was ten months old.  As parents we had looked forward to sharing holidays with our children as a great joy in our future.  But when the time came we thought, "What are we going to fill Owen's Easter basket with?"  He was barely into strained peas--we didn't want to give him jelly beans and chocolate rabbits.

That year we ended up with a little pull string vibrating ducky, an Easter bib, and plastic eggs full of "O" cereal and baby puffs.

Every year since then has been about the same, with a small amount of "classic" Easter candy added in to the mix.  The truth is Jeremy and I like a little bit of that too (particularly some quality chocolate).  And now with more kids, we spread around that candy into four baskets so there's not too much for one person to enjoy over the course of a few days, and then be done without ever having been "overdone".

Our baskets from left: Jeremy's, Mine, Owen's, Jonas', Wyatt's. (I look like the greedy one.)

Our kids have small Easter baskets.  When we bought Owen's for his first easter I thought we could buy him a bigger one later.  I then decided, why buy a bigger basket that just needs more to fill it up?  

So each year we've looked for different surprises to add to the baskets that are not candy.  This year the random assortment included Easter pencils.  Jonas and Wyatt's baskets both included some California Baby Sunscreen.  (Yes, sunscreen--don't you wish I was your mother?)

Owen's basket included some oil pastels.  He's been asking for some since experimenting with them at art class.  This seemed like a good time to oblige, and he was very excited to get them. 

Everyone but Wyatt (chocking hazard you know) received a series 4 Lego Minifigure.  A certain dad around here is kind of obsessed with them.  

 What can I say--they are pretty fun. 

Then of course there was "O" cereal for the baby.  He loved popping the little eggs open. 

Many people think of Easter celebrations as being pretty non-eco-friendly.  I guess it could be--but that's not how I was raised.  We have "permanent" Easter baskets that get packed away to the basement and brought back out each year.  They are made of natural wood and reed.  The plastic Easter eggs and grass are festive nostalgia.  They are not eco-friendly products, but we use them in an eco-friendly way--we reuse it all every year.  Though, my mother passed on these practices as "thrift" and "frugality," and never realized she'd have left such a politically correct and "green" legacy.   

I don't see myself buying any more plastic eggs, we always end up getting free eggs every year from the zoo, or library, or friends.  But if I did find myself in need of more eggs or perhaps, specialty-sized I'd go for making some cute fill-able felt Easter eggs. 

Celebrating Easter does not have to equate with a huge plastic basket overflowing with plastic eggs full of candy that makes everyone sick and cranky and then get's thrown away at the end of the season.  As with everything else in life, we do Easter our own way, not the way society dictates.  But that doesn't mean we are unable to enjoy any of the cultural traditions of the holiday.  Our Easter includes time spent in religious teaching and reflection, good food cooked and enjoyed together as a family, Easter baskets filled with a few small trinkets and toys, and a little bit of candy as the cherry on top of our Easter Sunday.

April Showers

 This weekend we celebrated the birth of my April baby.  Since it had rained all week we knew that an April Showers party would be just perfect. 

 I've wanted to make the Martha Stewart Pom Poms for years, so I was happy to find an excuse.  They made perfect rainclouds, and Jeremy loved the raindrop garland backdrop so much he thinks we should wallpaper our bathroom with them. 

We made a cream cheese icing-frosted carrot cake for a "cloud cake" topped with a raindrop cake pennant garland. 

We mimicked the cloud and raindrop aesthetic with floating blueberries in lemon-lime soda pop, and topped the glasses with Japanese paper umbrellas (though they would be no good in the rain!). 

With that Japanese tie-in we served sushi, with rice crackers on the side.  Jeremy made the California rolls for us.

Wyatt thought the sushi was OK, but everyone else loved it.

Wyatt was much more interested when there was fire involved.

But he didn't act fast enough to blow out his own candle--thanks Jonas.

Cake was enjoyed.

Cheesy, happy birthday grins were given.

And Wyatt ended up thoroughly partied out.  It was a great rainy April Showers celebration for a wonderful boy who is--in reality--full of only sunshine and blue skies