class is in session

Okay, March.  Here's what I've learned so far in your icy days:

1. March is not spring.  Not this far north, at least.  We're more than halfway through, and the forecast the next four days has high temps in the 30's.  That is not spring in my book, people!

Ready to hike.

2. When you have two months until your child's birthday party, and some time to browse on Pinterest, anything seems possible.  Themed costumes?  Handmade favors?  Elaborate backdrops, games with prizes and certificates, photobooths with props? Cute clever signs for each little type of (homemade) food?  Yeah, I've got time to manage that, clean the house, and wrap presents, the last week of school.   Already laughing at myself.  Let's see... factor in budget... skills... capacity for time management.  Will count on having store-bought cupcakes, and two or three games that trick the children into running circles around the house to tire them and work off the sugar.  Done and done!

3.  I forgot that when you take a 6, 4, and almost 2 year old on a family hike, you have to use quotes around the word "hike." Also, it is possible for a 4 year old to lose their shoe, stop to pick up "nature," scratch their ankle, and remove "nature" from inside their shoe at a rate of once every three steps taken on said "hike".  But their expressions seeing bald eagles flying overhead?  No quotes necessary around the word, priceless.

4. This year there is enough madness in the house this March. The more traditionally entertaining kind, involving basketball, is passing me by this year largely unnoticed.  Did not even get around to filling out a bracket. Refer to #5.

5. Spring break found me off my game.  Having all three home all day- I was unprepared for the conflict.  Making mental notes to craft a schedule for summer vacation days.  Or, as I am referring to it in my mind, boot camp. BOOT. CAMP.

My youngest, teaching a friend
how to untidy a home.

6. Conducted my own little experiment.  Found that with all the children home all day, the house goes from "company ready" to complete and utter disaster, where every room is pretty well destroyed, in about 16 hours.  16 hours, people.  And they were sleeping for a big chunk of those hours.  I think it will take me 16 hours to clean it all.  So basically if I want to maintain the clean, I have to keep cleaning, full speed ahead, nonstop.  BOOT CAMP. It's real, and it's coming.

7. Okay, so I love having all my children home 97% of the time.  There have been epic moments.  The highlight for me of break was G and F putting on "church," complete with a CORE sign (the name of our church's high school ministry.  They charged money (it was a fund raiser), led worship with instruments, told a Bible story, and preached.  This was all their idea, and they planned and rehearsed before selling us tickets and leading us to our seats.  F told the Bible story, and despite rehearsals when she told it silly-style to get people to laugh, when she really stood on stage (G's bed) she was all serious and explained in a quiet voice how much God loves us.  Then G was excited to, as he called it, preach. He spoke fervently about our sin, God's love, and Jesus' death.  The whole time he was inexplicably holding this little leftover piece of PVC pipe with a string tied around it.  He wrapped up the talk by saying how Jesus' death and resurrection meant that if we trust him, God will remove our sin, like this- and at this point G used scissors to clip the string which fell to the ground.  I got tears in my eyes.  Not only was he preaching, he was using object lesson/ visual aids!  And he was proud to be doing what Craig does.  Seriously, my tired little "I'm so over spring break" heart grew three sizes that day.

Sign welcoming us to church (CORE). On the reverse is an
added sign pleading, "don't take it down!"

8. Now our children want to form a family band, and go door-to-door performing and asking for money.  Some of which will go to charity, of course.  Or as my boy spelled it on the band's poster, "charade".  How to explain that I am not going to our friends houses playing plastic preschool instruments whilst holding out an empty hat- how to explain that, without crushing my boy's sweet earnest dreams?  Can't find that chapter in my parenting books.  All this talk about our band's name, and selling posters, and making money, and how much money should go back to the band- I feel like I'm living in a VH1 "Behind the Music" episode.  I'll let you know how that goes.  In the meantime, I may have to go on a family hike. By myself.