But You Said...

I would be rich if I had a dollar for every time I've heard the phrase, "But you said..." My children are masters at taking what I've previously said and using it against me.

Case in point, last night we had a salad with our dinner. Emery made the salad, and he decided to add raw radish leaves from the greenhouse into it. Fletcher absolutely loves salad. But he wasn't so crazy about the radish leaves. In his defense, Emery did pick radish leaves that were too big for a raw salad.

In trying to get Fletcher to eat his salad (without picking out the radish leaves), I said something about how healthy it was to have a variety of greens in your salad. Variety tends to give you more vitamins and minerals because different foods contain them in different quantities.

Fast forward to this morning. Emery made oatmeal for breakfast. Fletcher doesn't particularly like oatmeal. He was whining and crying, moaning and groaning, and generally complaining about having to eat his oatmeal. Exasperated, I finally exclaimed, "Make one more negative comment, just one more complaint about oatmeal, and you are going to eat oatmeal for breakfast EVERY DAY for a MONTH!" (And I meant it ;-)

Fletcher immediately shot back, "But YOU said that VARIETY was HEALTHY for me." Ouch!! That hurt. But the good news? At least I know he listens to me.

PJ

And yes, he did eat his oatmeal for breakfast. :)

Garbage Gleanings

I mentioned before that Jim was a science teacher. When we moved to Indiana he chose to forgo all the glamour of teaching in order to have more emotional energy for his family. He surprised us all (including himself) by becoming a garbage man.

Jim was (and still is) a great teacher. But there are certain perks that come from being a garbage man - and that is lots of free stuff.

Now, lest you think he is out picking through trash bags, he is not. People will often leave boxes of stuff out, leftovers from garage sales that didn't sell, stuff like that. And Jim, despite living in Indiana, is a New Englander at heart. And that means he detests waste! If he sees anything that could still be used, he brings it home. He is the quintessential pack rat.

This can cause some tension with me because I am the original no clutter freak! He's gotten better, he doesn't bring home everything, but he still sneaks some silly things in every now and again.

These lovely doo-dads that Greyden and Indigo are displaying were castoffs from the YMCA. They are key chains. Jim used them as an object lesson to make a point. The children of course saw them as potential jewelry instead.

The point? I don't really have one. But the children enjoyed many hours with their toys until Mom rounded them up from between the couch cushions, under the beds, in the cabinet with the plates, on top of legos, in the toilet paper rolls, in my pillow case, on the ceiling fan, and many other places and stuck them all in a plastic tote. Now all I have to do is stick the tote in with the dirty diapers (the only place from which they won't be rescued).

Thanks for the toys, Dad!

PJ

Mmmmmmmm, Peppers!

Moving to Indiana, I had to learn how to garden all over again. My first two gardening seasons here were pretty pathetic by my standards. This is the first year I've been somewhat pleased, which isn't bad considering we've been in a pretty bad drought and Jade was born in July. Side note - there are few things more pathetic than watching a nine month pregnant woman try to maintain a garden in 90 degree temps and drought conditions. So I didn't even try - I sent the children to do it :)

Brett had gone out to pick peppers this morning (yes, we're still getting peppers near the end of October!) She gave the basket to Indigo to bring in. Indi decided to do quality assurance to make sure the peppers were up to her standards. Fortunately, she chose a banana pepper. Brett had picked not just the banana peppers and sweet peppers, but jalapeno peppers as well!

I know the dangers of jalapeno peppers and children. We were recently at a friend's house and her 4 year old daughter decided to show off to my children and eat a jalapeno pepper. Needless to say, she was pretty miserable. We tried milk, bread, and cucumbers. When we left, she was doing better. But I found out the next day they ended up at the emergency room around 3 am. It seems that when you get jalapeno oil all over your hands and then rub your eyes and pick your nose, that no amount of cucumbers (yes, even up her nose) will allow a 4 year old to sleep.

So, ever thankful to learn a lesson at someone else's expense (rather than my own), I kept a watchful eye to make sure Indigo didn't eat any jalapenos!

Jim then came up with the brilliant idea of having Indigo sort the peppers. I didn't think she could do it, but she did! She had a little trouble mistaking the small green bell peppers for jalapenos. And she didn't understand why mommy wanted the red ones in with the bell peppers. But once again, a job done by the youngest person capable of doing it. Which translated, means one less job for me!

PJ

Many Chickens, Many Eggs

In the Jonas house, the youngest person able to do any given job is generally responsible for that job.

In regards to the chickens, that generally means that Greyden gathers the eggs from our chickens everyday. It was Emery's job, but I'm switching it over to Greyden's. Every once in a while, Greyden won't close the door to the coop properly. The chickens are then able to escape into the people yard as opposed to the livestock yard. I am informed of this scenario when I hears cries of, "the chickens are OOOOUUUUUUUTTTTTT!"

What follows is a routine of all the children rushing out the back door to round up chickens. We currently have about 50 chickens, so depending on how many escaped, it can take a while.

I saw a tv show once where Shaquille O'Neal was trying to help overweight children lose weight. He actually brought in a couple of chickens and had the overweight children chase them. I thought that was hilarious as my children get quite a bit of exercise chasing loose chickens, and loose rabbits, and loose goats, and even loose pigs (which are by far the hardest to catch - just ask Jim!). But, I digress...

So, Greyden gathers the eggs, and Hewitt puts the eggs away. The day before this photo, Greyden had forgotten (and Mommy had forgotten to remind him) to gather the eggs. So when he did, there were about 60 eggs to gather and put away.

But Hewitt wasn't daunted! He spent at least 30 minutes, quite contentedly playing and arranging his eggs. It is one of his favorite tasks and he won't allow anyone to help him. We get both brown and white eggs, and he usually arranges them according to color or size. I figure all the sorting is a great addition to his math education!

PJ

Daddy Solutions

Have you ever noticed that moms and dads respond to the same situations very differently? I know this, and yet, Jim still surprises me with how differently he handles some of the problems our family is always creating. I easily admit that many of his solutions are better than mine. But quite often, Jim will admit he tends to complicate the situation.

So what does the picture of a naked, wet Indigo in the bathroom sink have to do with Jim's solutions?

Let me set the stage for this one...

It's bath time. A time that all the Jonas children LOVE. And a time that both the Jonas parents HATE. Bath time at the Jonas house almost always ends in chaos. There are clothes everywhere. There are diapers everywhere. There are wet towels everywhere. And there are lots of naked Jonas children running throughout the house - EVERYWHERE.

In an act of desperation, I have ordered that baths are to be taken in pairs. And only one pair of children are allowed in the bathroom at a time. By pairing older with younger children, this mainly removes the parents from the bathing procedure, with the exception of our inspection of the room for water damage.

On the taking of this particular photo, Brett and Indigo were bathing together. Jim disappeared into the vicinity of the bathroom for quite a while, but I didn't get alarmed too soon. After all, it was just the girls, so how bad could it be? But as time continued to pass, I started to grow alarmed. I finally decided to investigate.

I entered the bathroom to find a naked Indigo (with lips the color of her name) in a sink full of lukewarm water, and an equally naked Brett cleaning the tub, with the smell of bleach filling the air.

It seems that Indigo had committed the capital offense of pooping in the bath tub. Someday she will probably yell at me for broadcasting this to the world. But it is true, she did indeed poop in the tub.

Now, Mommy would have simply scooped out the offensive material, drained the tub, and washed Indigo off from the faucet. I would have stuck Brett in the shower, and assigned someone to clean the tub.

But Daddy had a different solution. He put warm water in the sink, stuck Indigo there, and had Brett clean out the tub. Since Brett and Daddy tend toward perfectionism, this took a lot longer than expected.

But the tub was put back to rights, filled with very warm water, and Brett and Indigo finished their bath in relative peace.

As for me... I got a clean bathtub and a cute photo out of the deal.

PJ

Seeking Shelter

So tell me, have you ever tried to fit 10 people in a 10 x 10 room for half an hour? What if the room is more than half taken up by crates of canning jars? And the ceiling is only 5 feet 2 inches tall? And you're underground? Oh, and it is waaaay past 8 of the 10's bedtime?

You haven't? Well, I can share some of this adventure as I welcome you to tornado warnings at the Jonas house.

In order to understand this exciting ritual, you must realize that my husband, Jim, was a teacher for 7 years. And not just any teacher, a science teacher. Do you know how many weather videos a Junior High Science Teacher watches? Tons. And if you are a loving wife who likes to spend time with your husband, then you get to watch weather videos too! Know what happens in lots of weather videos? Destruction. Mass devastation. And lots of it. Tornadoes, hurricanes, lightning, thunder - they all make much more interesting videos if you're watching houses crumble, cars fly, and trees uproot.

After such indoctrination, let's just say that the Jonases take severe weather seriously.

Last night there were severe storms moving through our area. And these storms (so the weatherman kept repeating) were ripe for "tornadic activity". Enter the Jonas severe weather ritual, which goes something like this:

Mom: "Children, severe weather moving in, possible tornadoes. Take evasive action."

Brett: "I'll get the water bottles and the little ones."

Colter: "I'll prep the root cellar."

Emery: "I'll cleanup outside."

Fletcher: "I'll get the animals."

Greyden: "What do I do, Mom?"

Mom: "Greyden, you get all the children's blankets. Now everybody, GO! GO! This is not a drill!" (Yes, we're one of those families that does fire drills, too)

While the children are scrambling, it is Mom's duty (Dad's if he is home) to monitor the radar and the weather alarm.

If we stay in a tornado watch, no problem. But the minute that tornado warning sounds, off we go to the root cellar. Maybe when the children are older, we'll only go to the root cellar if we actually see or hear a tornado, but would you like to round up 8 children (ages 10 and under) and get them down to safety in the middle of the tornado? I wouldn't. Like I said, we take evasive action.

This was a child-friendly storm system. It was very fast moving, so we only had to remain in the root cellar for half an hour. What did we do during that time? Sang songs by candle light, talked about tornadoes, ate some peanuts and peanut butter crackers that Cole had brought down. It was actually a fairly cozy half hour spent as a family. Not something I look forward to, mind you, but nothing terrible either.

Ten years from now, when the children are taller than the 5 foot 2 inch ceiling and there are who knows how many of us down there, well... tornadoes might not seem so scary then :)

By the way, we were fine. But a tornado from that system did touch down a few miles northeast of us and destroyed several houses. I also know at least one person was killed by the storm. Just another reason why I'm glad we built the root cellar.

PJ

Be glad you don't have any boys... ?!?

While we were in the hospital with Hewitt's pneumonia, we had some prescriptions that we needed to fill. Normally this is my duty, but I was sticking with my little boy and did what any good mother would do in this situation - I delegated it to my husband.

So off Jim went with the prescriptions, the HSA checkbook, and his cell phone in case he had any questions (there always seems to be questions). He cheerfully came back half an hour later. We were going to use the medication when the respiratory specialist saw it and said it was too strong a dose. So off he went again to the doctor's office.

Since the doctor's office is across the parking lot from the hospital, I suggested he bring Indigo and Jade - so they could get some sunshine - and I could get a break!

Really, this is Jim's story, but I'll try to relate it truthfully and to the best of my ability.

When Jim arrived at the doctor's office, he had Indigo (18 months) and Jade (3 months) with him in the stroller. They were sitting angelically and looking beautiful.

In the waiting room were three women (mother, grandmother, and aunt?) all attending to one approximately 3 year old boy.

This small child was apparently running around the waiting room, climbing over chairs, and disrupting everything. Jim says there was a constant stream coming out of the women's mouths: "Don'tdothat; comehererightnow; Itoldyounottoclimbonchairs; sitrightdownrightnowMISTER" etc, etc.

The next thing Jim sees is zoooom, out the door runs the little boy. Mom and Grandma are immediately on his heels.

The Aunt gives Jim an exasperated look and pronounces, "Just be glad you don't have any BOYS. They are SO hard to handle." This statement is made in the gravest tones with rolled eyes and everything.

Jim says he tried to restrain himself for about 30 seconds, before calmly saying, "Actually, I have 5 boys. These are just the youngest of my 3 girls."

Any of you who have large families know the look that crossed her face. Part horror, part astonishment, part pity. And that was that last thing she said to Jim. :D

PJ

My new look

After 7 years of not having bangs, I decided to have them again! I cut them myself - so don't say anything negative ;-)

I have had several comments that now I REALLY look young. What do you think? Who is older, me or Jade?

PJ

No girly dress-ups

We have a dress-up trunk. The children pulled it out about two months ago and played with it. After a while, there was general grumbling from the boys that the trunk was too "girly". There weren't enough boy things to dress-up as.


They were right. The trunk mostly contained my old prom dresses, bridal gowns, girl scout uniform and stuff like that. There was a tiger costume, police and fireman stuff and some old hats - but not enough manly costumes for my five growing sons.

Enter Grandma. Within a few days of a phone call to Grandma complaining that they had no boy dress-up stuff, a huge box arrived in the mail. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...






And just in case you wanted a girly one, here ya go!

Thanks, Grandma!

PJ

A Messy Family Tradition

Family traditions are very important to me. I work hard to try to establish ones that are not date specific and require little prep time. I've found that when I have a family tradition that HAS to take place on a certain day, inevitably it is a bad day and I have no energy (or enthusiasm) for the tradition. And then the tradition loses all appeal.



One of our favorite traditions is s'mores. We have a fire pit in our backyard. As soon as cool evening weather comes, everyone (even mom) gets to craving our s'mores. It is an easy tradition for me to handle. None of the s'mores ingredients are perishable, so I can keep them in the pantry.


This was Indigo's first partaking of this particular family tradition. She was a natural at eating the ones prepared for her. This was also the first year Hewitt was allowed to toast his own marshmallows without an adult hand on his stick. He did great!

PJ

Dad can do anything

Hewitt got a Cars magna doodle type toy from his Grammy and Gumpy after his hospital stay. It comes with an attached book that shows you how to draw the different characters from Cars.

This toy has been a huge hit and something that gives Hewitt quite a bit of control in the family pecking order. Because it is his, he has to give his permission for anyone to use it!

Daddy entertained the older 6 children with this amazing invention for quite a long time one morning.

It seems that this is another hidden talent that I didn't know my husband possessed. Just when you think you know somebody - wham! - you find out he can draw Cars characters on a magna doodle! Who knew?

PJ

A Hospital Stay

Last week, Hewitt woke up with a "cold". He had been perfectly healthy the night before. He was having rapid, shallow breathing and was lethargic. Those were his only symptoms. No coughing, no fever. By midafternoon there was no improvement. I didn't like the way he was acting, so I made an appointment to bring him to the doctor.



At the office, the nurse practitioner opened the door to the room, took one look at Hewitt and said, "Take him to the ER, now." I think she thought I'd start to panic, because she then started to calmly (in that "don't faint on me, mom" tone) explain that his heart could give out from him having to work that hard to breathe and she didn't want it happening in her office. But I was perfectly calm and proceeded to put him back in the stroller and start to push the stroller toward the ER.


We arrived at the ER (they were expecting us) and he was put on oxygen and breathing treatments. They then took two chest x-rays which showed double pneumonia! I couldn't believe it. I had no idea that pneumonia could develop so quickly. He was admitted to the hospital and spent 3 days there before he could keep his oxygen levels up enough on his own without the added oxygen.



I learned some valuable lessons during our hospital stay:

1. A three year old can and will watch the movie Cars 12 times during 3 days if you let him.


2. When taking a shower in your son's hospital room, make sure you have towels before getting wet.


3. The promise of a blue ice pop will get your 3 year old to take his nasty tasting liquid medicine when the threat of having his iv put back in will not.


4. When your son tells you his nose fell off, he means the oxygen tube fell out, not his actual nose.


5. It is possible (although not recommended) to sleep in a single bed with a three year old.


6. If you want a visit from you doctor, just arrange to have a family member call you on the phone.


7. Be prepared for every new nurse at every shift change to ask you, "Do you really have 8 children?"


8. Dad would rather be in the hospital with the one sick child than at home caring for all the others without mom's help.


9. A double room to yourselves is still very crowded when the whole family comes for a visit.

This was the day that Hewitt came home from the hospital. The boys wanted to dress so that they would all match.

It's good to be home!

PJ

Square Dancing, Anyone?

About a month ago, we were invited to go square dancing at a friend's house. Now, the Jonas family never does anything half-heartedly. If we were going to go square dancing, we were going to do our best to look like square dancers - or at least a cheap imitation of country hicks ;-)

The children were very excited at this new adventure. They immediately started plying us with questions about square dancing. The last time I square danced was in high school. For Jim, it hadn't been since Junior High. I managed to remember how to dosado, but that was all. So when Emery called and asked Jon about square dancing, he was told 3 things:

#1 Square dancing is done by square people.
#2 You have to wear denim and flannel.
#3 You have to allemande left.

Super mom (that's me) couldn't do much to make us all square. But the denim and flannel, that I could do! After throwing in a few french braids, a couple of cowboy boots, and many bandanas (note to self, we have too many pink bandanas, and not enough "manly" colors), we were ready for the photo. Jade isn't in the picture, as she didn't have any plaid baby clothes.

By the way, a quick google search and I was also able to teach them to allemande left as well. In this photo, Fletcher and I are "promenading" while Colter is really enjoying himself.

Part of my mentality is that when you've got a large family, you are automatically a spectacle. You might as well be an interesting spectacle, right? So - did we pull it off?

Squooshy hugs

Having 8 children is absolutely wonderful... and crazy! But when the crazy starts to overwhelm, I try to focus on the wonderful. And right now, wonderful means lots of warm, squooshy hugs. You know, the kind where the arms wrap around you and the child tries to squeeze you as hard as he can?

I've discovered that there are many sides to this hugging thing. Currently, Jade is still too young to hug me, so I just spend my time giving her hugs. Indigo still hasn't figured out the art of squooshy hugs; she's still more of a cuddler - which is fine with me! Hewitt has learned how to squooshy hug, and gives me all of the groans and grunts to go with it. Greyden likes to give squooshy hugs, but does not like to get squooshy hugs.

Right now, my Fletcher is the king of the squooshy hug. He puts every ounce of his being into his squooshy hugs. (Those of you who have ever breastfed can understand how painful that can be if the baby hasn't eaten for a while ;-). Fletcher is quite proud of his title and very unwilling to relinquish it!

Emery still does squooshy hugs, but usually giggles throughout the whole thing. Colter is still quite willing to hug his mother. But he's getting so big and strong, that his squooshy hugs are actually starting to hurt! So, we've taken to mostly just regular hugs. Brett was never much into squooshy hugs (maybe she thinks it is just a boy thing?) Edited to add: after reading this Brett declared, "I don't think it's a boy thing - I just don't like to be squeezed!"

Whatever the type, hugs always improve even my craziest day and calm my worst moods. And with many children, I hope to never run out of hugs!

PJ