A happy home

Today’s win in teaching kids financial independence.

Most days it’s easy to feel inadequate as a mom.  I am well aware that I fall short in SO many areas.  I try not to beat myself up about my shortcomings but instead set goals to improve.  Other days I am on top of the world because I can see my strengths clearly.  And, I can see how those strengths are being passed onto my children.

One of those strengths is financial independence.  That probably sounds funny coming from a mom who is completely dependent on her husband for all temporal needs.  Although Tim brings home the bacon, I make sure we aren’t throwing it away.  And I do a pretty good job at it.

So it stands to reason that I would hope to impart some of that prudence in financial matters to my children.

Kids definitely come out of the womb a certain way, though.  Of my four daughters, I can easily identify the miser, the spendthrift, the coveter, and the industrious one.  While accepting their innate differences, it is my job to shape them into successful humans so I start early in helping them learn financial independence.

So imagine my joy today when my oldest (who is fourteen) creates a flyer to advertise piano lessons then asks which of my friends might have interest in signing their kids up for said lessons.  Music to my ears – pun intended.

Why is this such a breakthrough?  Because I’ve been grappling with how to get this very daughter (the miser of the bunch) to discover that she needs money – more than we provide, that is.  I was starting to wonder if, despite our best efforts, we were actually spoiling her.

As parents, we’ve done a lot to create a solid foundation in financial matters.   First and foremost, we’ve tried to model financial savvyness.  And, we’ve included them in deciding what “extras” they would like to forego to make room in the budget for other “extras”.  For instance, our last family vacation was an inexpensive nine-day camping trip to make a long-distance trip this summer possible.

We also began early, by not giving into the “gimmes” during every shopping excursion.  We’d politely remind our children that they could always ask for those items (that they absolutely could not live without at that particular moment) for birthdays or Christmas.  Or pay for them with their own money.

We built upon that by providing opportunities for the kids to help out around the house.   They earned a somewhat meager allowance with which to purchase “wants” and had ample opportunities to increase that income through additional chores.

We created milestones at different ages, ones that force them to consider the cost of the things they might take for granted.  For instance, at age 13, each child opens a checking account and is provided with an allocated amount (deposited quarterly).   They use this budget to pay for clothing, primarily, but also birthday gifts for friends, outings with their buddies, etc.

It hasn’t been easy to tell our kids “no” as often as we have.  Keeping up with the Joneses is a huge temptation when your kids are constantly reminding you of all the things their friends have that they don’t.   (I never fall for that argument anyway because I doubt the veracity of it).

I can easily console myself with the paid-off mortgage, a growing retirement fund, and ample college savings accounts.  But I’d be lying if I said that the buffetings of kids’ complaints and the restraint of making them “want” for things has always been easy.  Some days I just want them to thank me for being the prudent mom I am, for making them work to obtain the things they claim other kids’ parents give them without anything in return.

They haven’t thanked me yet.  And I expect they will continue to ogle the possessions of others with a bit of envy.  But, underneath it all, they’re learning.

For Anna, I think the kicker came this year when her friends invited her on excursions for which she asked me for spending money.  Each time I reminded her that she has a budget for those sorts of things and that if she feels it’s not quite enough, she can always find a way to earn more money.

Every time I gave the kids a list of household chores for which I would pay them, I couldn’t help but be disappointed when none(or just one) of them took me up on the offer.  Yet each time I had to say no when my kids would ask for something they “really, really” wanted, I was more than happy to remind them that they had turned down the opportunity to earn extra cash.

Our children aren’t going to become industrious creatures unless they see a need.  And the trouble with having an ample income is that it is so easy to meet all their needs.  Because we can!  But we shouldn’t.

Someday they are going to be on their own (Tim will make sure of it – no basement-dwelling young adults in this house!).  I hope to not do them a disservice by lavishing them with unnecessary stuff just because we can.

And today I saw some real fruits that what we’re doing is working.  Maybe we’re doing something right after all.

 

Click here for a printable list of tips to teach kids financial literacy.

Flying through December.

And just like that, it’s three days until Christmas!  We kicked December off with Jack’s birthday and a Nutcracker performance by Eve.  Threw in two elementary music programs, two piano recitals, several junior high choir performances, another children’s choir performance.  It’s safe to say that music is definitely one of our treasured holiday traditions.

Another holiday tradition we can’t seem to live without: baking.  I enlisted the girls’ help in the kitchen, one daughter for each of the four items in this year’s goody box.  Homemade caramels, toffee, sugar cookies, and peppermint bark made the cut.  We might have baked up a couple of extra batches after the treats were delivered.  Our excuse was that we forgot about a few families.  But at least half of the extras ended up in our very own bellies.  Yum.

We finally got around to making our annual homemade Christmas ornament.  I must say, it’s pretty awesome when your kids reach an age at which they can actually craft something reasonably cool.  For years I’d either stretch the limits of my kids’ fine motor skills (and my patience) to make something they could be proud of.  Or, when that didn’t work, I’d select an ornament that was well within their skill level but one that broke before the next Christmas rolled around.

This year, I drummed up some wire and beads to assemble one of these suckers.  It was easy, cheap, and produced an awesome result.  Big win for Christmas 2017.

Other than that, it’s been business as usual around here.  A minor fracture for Jack.  A mild case of hand, foot, and mouth disease.  Lots of broken ornaments.  Sugar highs and subsequent crabby tempers.  Gift-buying and giving.  Service in the community.  And as of today, snow.  A good three inches so far.

Most of all, we remember the Savior in all that we do.  I am abundantly grateful to know of Him and His great atoning sacrifice which makes every joy in this life possible.

Terrible twos take five.

Jack’s birthday coincided with the Christmas decor going up.  We were careful to avoid placing any glass ornaments on the lower half of the tree.  We were not so careful to avoid setting an enormous present, begging Jack to climb on it, under the tree.

Naturally, he climbed it, grabbed the first glass ball he could reach and chucked it onto the hardwood.  To his delight, it shattered into a thousand pieces.  So he did it again.  And then he started tearing open the present upon which he had stood moments before.

Not five minutes later he found a few more interesting looking “balls” (pinecones) forming a centerpiece on our table and did what any little boy would have done: threw them one-by-one as far as his little guns could throw them.

It was adorable.  What is it about the youngest child that transforms a mother into a see-no-evil, hear-no-evil creature?  I laugh just about everything off when it comes to him because I know he will outgrow this phase with all it’s obnoxiousness.

I know one day I’ll sit in a rocker in my spotless home wondering how the chaos of raising children had managed to slip through my fingers.  I’ll miss it, no doubt.  The kids, not the mess, obviously.

Childhood is so fleeting.  So I’ll gladly sweep up shattered ornaments and rewrap giant presents for a few more years of this face.

Eleven going on twenty.

Somewhere in the middle of fourth grade Rachel hit a huge growth spurt and surpassed her older sister Lily in height.  Remarkably, she fails to be the tallest among her friends but, to me, her height reminds me that my babies just won’t stay little forever.  The girl looks like a teenager.  Yet inside the mature facade lies a sensitive girl waffling between childhood and adolescence, embarrassed at times by the reminders that growing up is inevitable.

Rachel is a gift to our family.  At parent teacher conferences a month ago, I remarked to her teacher that if Rachel were an only child, I would think I’d mastered parenting on the first try.  She’s that good.  Not perfect, mind you, but she succeeds in most of her pursuits, helps around at home, and generally doesn’t make waves with us as parents.  We are so grateful to have a Rachel.

At eleven, Rachel has a knack for puzzles and building, her athletic skills are undeniable, and she has a voracious appetite for reading.  She was one of only three fifth-graders to make the basketball tournament team at her elementary school and she beats the boys at the game (regularly) during recess.  She also attends a sixth-grade math class, which she skates through.  Rachel is blossoming into quite the pianist and recently took up percussion in the school band.  I anticipate great things from this one.  Can’t wait to see where the next few years take her.

Happy Birthday Rachel!

OI Regional Conference – Portland edition.

Last weekend Tim and I attended a regional conference in Portland organized by the Osteogenesis Imperfecta Foundation, an organization that supports those living with brittle bone disease.  I didn’t really know what to expect, and to be honest, I can’t say that I learned anything mind-blowing with regard to Jack’s condition.  After all, I scoured every corner of the internet to find information on it within the first month after his diagnosis so I feel pretty informed.  Still, it was overall an pretty awesome experience for a number of reasons.

First, the presenters were primarily medical professionals who treat individuals with OI, far more OI patients than any of our providers treat.  Many of them have a particular passion for this tiny segment of the population and for finding treatments that will improve their quality of life.  They’ve also been involved in some of the groundbreaking research that has enabled certain “experimental” treatments to become mainstream.  So mainstream that our doctors here in Boise knew precisely which course to take, a course that has enabled Jack to far exceed our expectations for mobility and fracture reduction.

We had several opportunities to sit down with a few of these doctors and just pick their brains on the best course of action to take with Jack in the future, which armed me with significantly more information than our local providers have been able to give.  Our providers have been great, to be sure, but having treated a much smaller population lack a breadth of experience that I felt these medical professionals had.

Second, it was fantastic to see other individuals with Osteogenesis Imperfecta with a wide variety of health limitations.  Several people did not even appear to have the condition, aside from a bit of stunted growth perhaps.  But they could simply pass as short.  Others were what I would describe as stereotypical – with pretty much every indicator of the condition.  Some were wheelchair-bound, others spend a portion of time in a wheelchair but could also walk, one little girl even sported a pink cast for her most recent fracture.  It was heartwarming to see how resilient these awesome people are – their commitment to maximizing their lives and improving it for others with the same condition.  Several are faithful attendees of these conferences and have a deep commitment to raise awareness of OI so that this disease does not go ignored by the medical community simply because of its rarity.  They are weak in bone but strong in spirit.  They are truly inspirational.

A small number of them had a bit of a chip on their shoulders (understandably).  They had been treated as guinea pigs in the early days of their disorder, and were weary of participating in studies that may/may not be beneficial to them (or anyone else, for that matter).  They’re tired of the pain, tired of doctors who don’t understand, tired of insurance companies and hospitals bickering over who should have to cover the cost of their care.  It was sobering to see their struggles and to feel their frustration.  It filled me with an enormous sense of compassion for the crummy hand they’ve been dealt and equal admiration for how they weather it all with grace and grit.  They are a special group, and they deserve every bit of praise for enduring their condition so resolutely.

Finally, and this was the benefit of attending that most surprised me, I was renewed with a sense of gratitude for the factors in our lives that have made this whole OI experience much easier to bear.  We talked with several parents of kids with OI.  One family, in particular, approached us and asked us a bit about Jack (who was not with us).  They said, “We couldn’t help noticing based on some of the questions you’ve asked during the presentations that you have a son with OI.  How old is he?”  “Almost two,” we answered.  “Wow,” they replied.  “How are you doing?”

It was spoken with a tone that implied the heaviness of the diagnosis, an offering of deep empathy and support, and a slight skepticism that one could be doing well under the circumstances.  And, to be fair, their son appears to have a more severe type of OI than Jack does, though his initial diagnosis was pretty much the same.  When we indicated that we were doing great, and we showed them a video  that my sister Jill had sent us the day before (she was helping my mom take care of the kids at home), they were baffled.  Not so much at the video of Jack jumping and dancing around our family room, but that we were so okay with the fact that he has brittle bones.  It sort of caught me off-guard.

Certainly, those early days and weeks after Jack broke his femur were some of the most difficult of my life.  Occasionally, they almost feel like a dream.  I can reflect cognitively on how challenging they were – the strangeness of caring for a newborn with a spica cast, the fear of mishandling Jack and wondering whether each prolonged crying session meant he had broken another bone, the foreboding thought about what the future might hold for Jack and how that would change the dynamic in our family.  It was tough stuff, to be sure.  But even as I think back to those days, I can’t really feel the pain – I feel mostly gratitude.

They say hindsight is 20/20, but even as I was in the thick of my experience breaking Jack’s femur and all that followed, I was surprisingly lucid despite my incredible fatigue (I was, after all, a 38 year-old mother of a fragile newborn and four other kids, to boot.  Bone-tired, I tell you.)  I had the presence of mind to process all the medical jargon the doctors were throwing at me, to keep my head when they confirmed the worst of my fears, and to put on a happy face for my kids when we had to explain to them what it all meant.  I wrote down a list of the “tender mercies” I could see – evidence of the Lord’s love for me and His assurance that all would be all right.  There were too many “coincidences” to be coincidences.  He was mindful of us and assisted us in viewing this whole experience with an eternal perspective – a gift that I don’t think I fully appreciated until we talked with this couple at the OI conference.  I shudder to think of how harrowing their own experience had been, without the perspective a firm belief in God and his eternal plan gave us.

I also could not reflect on those early days without appreciating the overwhelming support we received from our family, friends, neighbors, and church congregation during the weeks after Jack’s first hospitalization (and beyond).  One of our next-door neighbors was devastated by the news, reflecting on it again and again, and took the time to bring us meals and shovel our driveway despite the multiple heart attacks he had suffered in previous months.  Several sweet friends from church came in and cleaned my house, a service initiated by a mother whose own significant family trials at the time were swallowed up by her selfless desire to lighten my load.  A few of my mission buddies, who live from Washington D.C. to Hawaii pitched in for gift cards so that we could buy pizza, which we did for months and months afterward – thanks to the generous sum the cards contained.  I did not cook a single dinner for a month thanks to meals brought in, I didn’t have to purchase diapers for four months, my kids got rides to school without my having to lift a finger for who knows how long, people did my laundry, they referred me to medical resources, they fasted for us, they prayed for us.  The hours others spent on our behalf by those far and near was innumerable.  And it was truly humbling.

So, when this couple asked how we were doing, it was eye-opening for me.  It made me wonder at the enormous burden that was eased immeasurably by the service of those around us.  And it also reminded me what a gift it is to know that this life is simply a small portion of eternity, that our experiences are opportunities to learn and develop Christlike attributes, and that Christ Himself rose from the grave so that our imperfect bodies may one day be resurrected.

So how are we doing?  Thanks to that knowledge, and the many loving individuals who serve us daily, we’re going to be just fine.  Mighty fine.

Portland. It’s all about the food.

When Tim and I went to Portland for the OI Conference, we decided to make it a getaway.  After all, it had been over three years since the last time we left the kids overnight so it was high time.  We contacted a couple of friends who live in the area so we could pop in on them while in town.  We also asked them for tips on what to do in Portland.  Their answer: eat, eat and eat.

Done and done.

One friend gave us a list of close to thirty restaurants/food trucks that were worth trying.  We hit up a few hot spots and, in between all the grub we walked off the pounds.  I came home two pounds lighter, in fact.  Yay for walkable cities.  Here’s where we went:

First morning up we went to Waffle Window.  boasting Liege waffles with a Portland twist.  Well, we’ve both been to Liege and tasted their waffles and these suckers are the real deal.  So yum.  And, just as they claim, they serve them up in ways that excite the tastebuds in unique ways.  We shared a bacon jalapeno cheddar waffle topped with a fried egg and a banana nutella waffle.  Both were delightful.

After a hour-long hike in Forest Park, we hit up Grassa downtown.  We ordered the stuffed shells, as per our order-taker’s recommendation and shared the dish so we could save some room for dinner with friends.  It was yummy fresh pasta and not so heavy that we had to drag ourselves down the street for a visit to a Portland icon, Powell’s Books.  What a store!

We passed Blue Star Donuts on our way back to our car and satisfied our sweet tooth – Tim had a Valhrona Chocolate Crunch and I decided on a Buttermilk Old Fashioned.  We vowed to return to the Blue Star Store close to where we were staying so we could try a few more flavors.  I’m typically a chocolate girl all the way, but I’d have to say that where Blue Star gets it right is in their fruity donuts: the Meyer Lemon and Key Lime Curd was to die for, although the Raspberry Rosemary Buttermilk came in at a close second.

Tim and I met up with Sherri and Josh at their home with a few donuts in tow for them to hide from their kids.  Sherri and I have been friends since I moved to Texas in the sixth grade and I couldn’t be happier that we are still in touch.  And, that we live a mere 7 hour drive from one another.  (That’s close when you’re from a western state – I can just hear my New England friends balking at the distance).

We visited long and kept them up far too late but it was good for my soul.  Sherri and Josh are awesome peeps – I’m so pleased that my friends grow up to marry awesome guys that get along with my husband.  Lucky for us, we got to sleep in the next day.  They were not so lucky.

The next day our plan was to have breakfast at Screen Door at 9 o’clock-ish.  We trekked the mile and a half from our Airbnb to put ourselves on a waiting list that set us back an hour.  Rather than stand around in the rain getting hangry, we strolled a few blocks away to experience Voodoo Doughnut.  Voodoo was not originally on the list, though we had no doubt heard of the joint. Who hasn’t?

As it turned out, the lines were negligible and their original doughnut, the Voodoo doll, definitely worth the hype.  Rather than spoil our breakfast at Screen Door (which was rapidly turning into brunch), the little beauty was the perfect snack.

Screen Door was to die for.  It probably scored the highest on our Portland foodie experience.  We ordered the Buttermilk Chicken Biscuit Sandwich and the Bananas Foster French Toast.  We might’ve downed those suckers in 5 minutes flat.  I’m sure it had absolutely nothing to do with that fact that we were starving after walking a couple of miles on empty stomachs.  Truly, though, best down-home cooking I’ve had in a good long while at a fantastic price.  As an added bonus, the service was friendly and timely, to boot.

As a side note, Tim fit right in with his scruffy look and I went the no-makeup route on more than one occasion.  We could have been Portlanders, easy.

We met the Calverts for lunch at Elephant’s Deli – another local icon.  These friends were our tenants in Boise while Jacob was doing rotations in medical school.  They were the best tenants ever – helping Tim with projects and actually improving the property.  We became fast friends and hosted several game nights before they moved on to residency.  I personally believe that Abbey won Tim over with her homemade bruschetta.  In fact, it was on her recommendations that we ate ourselves into oblivion in Portland.

Jacob is now a perinatologist outside of Portland and they are raising an adorable family (that has grown slightly since we first met).  It was so great to catch up a bit.  Here’s to fine friendships and food.

Our final food stop of the night was Salt and Straw where we indulged in a bit of ice cream for dinner.  The wait was adequate and gave us ample time to toss and turn over the wide variety of options they offer.  The flavors sound weird but try a few samples and you’ll realize that it’s just a name.  The combination of flavors did not disappoint.  Dessert for dinner – best ever.

It rained pretty much our entire weekend in Portland.  No surprises there.  What did come as a surprise was the shocking number of delectable joints to delight the palate in Portland.  We barely scratched the surface.  Good thing we’re just a state away so we can come back for round two.  And three or more.

Meridian temple open house.

During the month of October and early November, the Meridian Idaho LDS temple, which was recently completed was open to the public.  Our family scheduled a tour and brought Lily’s cute friend Katherine to tour it with us.  This was our third time to tour a brand-new (or renovated) temple, which I consider quite a blessing, considering that all three temples we have toured are within a 1 1/2 hour drive of our home.  How we got to lucky to have three temples so close is beyond me.

The temple was beautiful, and it was fun to talk with the kids about the significance of each of the rooms and the ordinances that are performed there.  It’s always a humble reminder of how closely linked heaven and earth are and our connection with our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

We took a picture at the end of the tour to commemorate the experience.  It was fun to add another face to our “family” picture.

Fall fun.

This autumn was beautiful as usual in Boise.  Grateful that none of our kids was enrolled in soccer this season, we enjoyed the unstructured laziness of our Saturdays immensely.  I’m not sure our children loved the fact that they got weekend assignments to spruce up our yard, but it was certainly a nice change to get a few things done here and there.  We managed to squeeze in a bit of fun on the side.  As a bonus, I didn’t spend a single dime(or moment of effort) on a Halloween costume.

Apple-picking.

Our backyard apple trees yielded no fruit this year and since eating grocery store apples is practically an abomination, we opted to visit the orchard this year.  It took us over an hour to get there, but we relished the gorgeous sunny weather and the delicious Honeycrisp apples that awaited us.

Thank heaven for good insurance.

October brought more than gorgeous fall foliage and fruit harvest.  Lily’s seizures had returned, though different than before and it was time to get some diagnostics on what was going on.  We scheduled an EEG to figure it all out.  A week later, we got a call from the technician who administered the test, informing us that all of the measurements taken had completely disappeared from their files.  Wait, what?!!  She said that, in her many years of employment, EEG results had only disappeared one other time.  Lucky Lily,  She got to go in twice, which is no small thing because it means having to deprive oneself of sleep before the test in order to induce seizures.  She was a pretty awesome sport about it, thankfully.

Jack also got a pamidronate infusion during October.  He was an absolute champ and barely whimpered when they inserted the IV needle.  I couldn’t believe the change I saw in him and it was heartening to see him mature before my very eyes.  That was the easy part, though.  For three days I got to chase the active toddler around with an IV pole – not exactly a cake walk.  At least he can now sit through an episode of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood without interruption.  For once I am truly thankful for screen time.