Saving Daylight

Everybody knows how most moms feel about time changes.

Springing forward used to just mean an hour less sleep. As a parent, it means wrestling your kids to bed at night before they are sleepy and then being late to church in the morning and dealing with tired and grouchy children while also being tired and grouchy.

Falling back, that once glorious night of an hour more sleep or party or reading, is forever changed with children. Their little bodies don't care that the clock reads 5.30 a.m. They are awake and ready for breakfast. And the little tyrants demand that you meet their needs.

I think one of the 3 things I actually liked about living in Arizona was that they don't buy into this whole time-change nonsense.

This morning, though, something glorious has happened in our house. It is 8.30 a.m. The laundry is done. The dishes are washed. The grocery list has been made. I even had a bath(!). Now I am sitting down to a cup of joe. And not a single other person in the house is awake.

getting silly with the webcam

You could say that I'm a little excited about this. My coffee is usually frigid and my ears full of the glorious chaos that is my life as a mommy to 3 little men. I love my crazy life. But I am going to savor this peaceful moment while I can. Moments like these don't happen very often while the sun is actually up, and this one is sure to be over soon.

do i look peaceful?

Slurp.

Ahhh.

Reason #845

Today is another example of why I fall in love with homeschooling all over again about once a month.

We started out as usual. We ran some errands, exercised our bodies, read some Dr. Seuss to celebrate his birthday week, and read our storybook for the week. We discussed hyperbole and had plans to learn about tornadoes and vanishing point later today. We ate lunch, had quiet reading and phonics.

As the kids rotated out of our phonics station, it happened.

Our afternoon took on a life of its own.

One by one, they moved on from phonics. Each asked if he could color until time was up. 

I went out to check on them. To make sure they weren't using markers on the walls, the floors, the chairs or...each other. Amazingly, they weren't.

What they were doing was writing books.

Each of my crazy, silly, very active boys was sitting still, quietly writing an all-new mystery for Scooby Doo and the gang. They were developing villains, leaving clues, making traps, and catching bad guys. These books were complete with dialogue, description, and illustrations.

Twisters and vanishing point could wait.

There was learning happening. In a way that I couldn't have scheduled, planned, or organized. Their creativity and curiosity had lead them straight into what they wanted to focus on today.

They have taken over the entire living room. And I couldn't be happier.

My Ding-a-Ling

I caught a glimpse of a bare hiney running past me toward the bathroom.

I asked, "Did you pull your pants down before you even started heading to the toilet, son?" To which he responded in the affirmative.

I politely requested that the next time he wait to drop his drawers until he is actually in the bathroom. "Nobody wants to see your penis," I explained.

At that moment, the little brother looked me straight in the eye and pulled his pants down.

Boys.