Oversized families…the solution to helicopter parenting.

Is it so surprising that helicopter parents have increased as family size has decreased? (Admittedly, I’m not quoting any reputable studies on the matter, but helicopter parenting has gotten a lot of press in recent years).

The other day my second oldest told me about a conversation she’d recently had with friends. A couple of her friends indicated that their parents complain a little when they spend time away from them. They make them feel guilty for not carving out sufficient family time.

My daughter responded that we never do that. We’re usually unphased when she wants to spend time away from us. Why? Because we have four more children to occupy our every waking moment. Get in line.

That conversation awoke in Lily a gratitude for our (by today’s standards) oversized family. We don’t have all of our eggs in one basket so we don’t get all codependent on her. If she’s not around to drive us nuts, there’s always another battling for her/his fair share of attention.

Parents of lots of children don’t have time to micromanage. They’re too tired to be concerned that their kids are spending too much time away from home. They’re glad for the break. Am I right or am I right?

Seriously, at the end of the day (about 8:30, if I’m honest), I’ve cooked enough, cleaned enough, chauffeured enough, disciplined enough and been mauled enough to fall into bed and dream of what it would be like to not have any children. Like, every night.

You can bet your britches I’m not gonna guilt trip my teenagers over wanting to hang out with their buddies. Good riddance.

I kid. But only sort of.

The thing is, one of the biggest arguments against having a large family is that parents are stretched too thin to give their kids adequate attention. Lily’s comment begs the question…have we overestimated the amount of attention that qualifies as “adequate”?

The funny part is that, had I limited my family size to, say two, maybe three kids, I would be the most helicoptering parent out there. I’m sure of it.

In fact, Tim has gone so far as to say I’ve loosened up since having children. Particularly once we hit the third child.

Loosened up? Not so much. Too exhausted to care? More accurate. Three plus kids can beat the control freak out of just about anyone.

It also got me thinking. Lily’s friend’s parents both work outside the home. Their two kids spend a lot of time at home. Alone, that is. Time that they would otherwise be spending with their parents. So naturally, on the weekends, when their friends are available to hang out (and their parents are, too, incidentally), they’ll pick their friends.

Problem is, mom and dad have earmarked the weekends as family time because they’re not around on the weekdays.

Makes me grateful that I am home when my kids are, for the most part. That way, when the weekend rolls around we can all take a break from each other. No guilt.

To be fair, I’m not sure that Lily’s friends were complaining about feeling obligated to spend time with their parents. Since their parents are not around much during the week, they probably miss them, too.

But, at the end of the day, a teenager is almost always going to choose her friends. So why not just have more kids so you don’t get lonely? Or maybe just stay home with them a little more so you get bored of each other and can get some breathing room without feeling shortchanged.

I think I’ve found the solution to helicopter parenting… one simply doesn’t have the energy to coddle ones kids when they outnumber the parents.

Take that, overpopulation peeps. My kids might be draining the world’s resources, but they’re pleased as punch about not being micromanaged. Maybe that way they stand a chance at surviving the end of the world. Without me, that is.

I’ll be napping. 18 years times five will do that to a girl.

The Anna Effect.

All younger siblings experience it, though it might be called a different name. It’s possible that the phenomena is particularly pronounced when one has multiple older brothers and/or sisters.

Sometimes it’s a good thing. Sometimes it’s not.

Luckily for my children, having an older sister blaze the trail for them works well in their favor. Why? Because she’s practically perfect in every way. (Exaggerating only slightly).

One might assume that having an older sister who sets such a high standard might actually be detrimental. That it might create disappointment in teachers when the younger sibling fails to measure up to said high standard.

Not so, friends. If you are lucky enough to be Anna’s younger sister, her good grades and exceptional behavior actually have residual effects. Effects that bestow long-lasting favor upon the younger sibling.

Lily was just telling me that most of her straight-A student friends got a B in a particular class taught by a notoriously difficult teacher at her school. What did Lily get? An “A” of course. Not by her own merits, she says. It was the “Anna Effect”.

It’s so bad (or good, depending on how you look at it) that when I went to Parent-Teacher conferences on behalf of Lily, her math teacher first asked about Anna before moving on to discuss Lily’s performance.

Lily doesn’t mind, because, as she puts it, her grade is boosted by being Anna’s younger sister. She even credits a passing grade on an assignment on which she did nothing right with the teacher simply liking her. Why does he like her? Because of Anna, of course.

I, too, had an older sibling. Fortunately, I neither felt I had to rise to a standard of perfection set by him, nor did I benefit academically from his achievements in school.

In fact, the “Eric effect” looked more like this:

Kid at school: “You’re Eric’s sister, right?”

Me: “Yeah, but most people call me Susie.”

What Eric lacked in academic discipline (smart though he is), he more than made up for in social status. Though, admittedly, a fair share of females attempted to befriend me in order to get their claws on my brother, for the most part I benefited from an expanded social circle thanks to “The Eric Effect”.

Sure, oldest children are more successful, statistically speaking. But younger siblings don’t have to work as hard. We have our older counterparts to thank for that. But then…that’s probably why they’re more successful, right? Everything on their own merits.

Eh, I’d still rather be a 2nd child. I have a feeling Lily feels the exact same way.

Star Wars Blue and Gold Dinner.

Okay, we’re trekking back to February here. If you couldn’t tell from the minimal amount of posting I’ve done over the past few months, it’s been busy in these parts.

One of the things I got roped into tackling almost single-handedly was the food for our Cub Scout pack’s Blue and Gold Dinner. Our cub master decided on a Star Wars theme, which we were totally down with.

I should add that I had to feed up to 80 people on a $120 budget. Including much of the paper products. Not even possible. But I was close, which, in my estimation is almost the equivalent of feeding the five thousand.

Thank heaven for Pinterest. I tweaked a couple of the ideas to suit my purposes and this is what we ended up with:

In retrospect, I thought it might have been funny to include a picture of “frozen” Han Solo. Woulda shoulda coulda.
A few of them got kinda toasted. But they were finger-lickin’ good. Here’s the recipe.
I delegated this one out and am SOOO glad I did. She said these were a nightmare to assemble. But aren’t they cute?
I came up with Luke Skywater on my own-aren’t I clever? It’s probably on the internet somewhere but I’ll take credit for it until someone comes after me.


Not pictured: a giant vegetable tray with veggies arranged to look like Yoda. Great in theory but underwhelming on the delivery. It looked like Yoda for about two seconds…long before I thought to take pictures of the food.

The food got rave reviews (let’s consider for a moment, though, that the “reviewers” were mostly mothers of relatively large families who were simply grateful they didn’t have to cook dinner that night. So I’m taking their compliments with a grain of salt, to say the least.)

Either way, no one went home hungry, so I’ll call it a win.

A Chinese New Year tradition.

We’ve been doing it for years. The guests change year to year, as does the selection of food. But we always end up with full bellies and a healthy dose of laughter.

We owe it all to our local Asian food grocer. This year they supplied us with such delectable treats as black moss, pig skin, grass jelly drink and canned silkworms. This year we had four people survive ten rounds of Food Fear Factor.

All this after stuffing themselves silly with homemade egg rolls, orange chicken, potstickers, and beef with broccoli. ‘‘Twas a sight to behold.

Rows and rows of egg rolls and potstickers prepped for frying. Devouring. Culminating in a whole lot of talking smack, interspersed with gagging, and a whole lot of laughing.


Comparing quantities. “No fair! You got more
than I did!”

Gosh I love this tradition.

Fourteen.

It’s an even year birthday so Lily got a party with friends…a trip across town to the roller rink. Ever concerned about budget, she picked that location because we could use the B1G1 coupons we scored when we went there for Rachel’s birthday party.

Lily is, in many ways a delight to raise. Always looking the bright side, very sweet to her younger brother, easy to talk to, pretty much unruffled by what would cause most teenagers a whole lot of drama. We just love her.

In fact, after opening her presents, she promptly declared that we had scored big time. As she put it, she “got everything she wanted”. A couple of pairs of shoes and some name brand athleisure pants did the trick, apparently.

She requested my tried and true peanut butter chocolate cheesecake-requiring two days of prep/assembly. Gosh I hope the trend dies down soon so I can stop borrowing my neighbor’s springform pan and get back to making cakes in less than a day…

Happy Birthday Lily!

Potty-training and the flu, with a little fun thrown in.

January looked a whole lot like this:

The flu reared it’s ugly head at our house this winter. None of us ever get the flu shot (I’m not anti-vaccination by any stretch of the imagination, just not convinced the benefits outweigh the costs on this particular one). The last time anyone in our family had it was 2011 and, thanks to a successful quarantine, it was limited to one child.

Not this time. Four out of five got it, one after the other. I had at least one kid home from school for 2 1/2 weeks straight.

On the upside(if this can be considered an upside), the family flu epidemic coincided with this:

(He’s wearing underwear, if you can’t tell). Here’s a better shot:

Yep, potty-training. Deep breaths. So what’s the upside to potty-training during a flu epidemic?

Well, no one’s going anywhere.

So potty accidents stay at home, where they belong.

How did it go? Well, it’s still going, you might say. With the exception of my oldest, perfectionist that she is, potty-training is a months-long ordeal at our house. Life’s too busy to get oneself to the bathroom on time, I suppose.

One difference between Jack and my girls, however was that he doesn’t seem to mind sitting in poop. (The girls each voided once in their underwear, just to say they’d tried it, before deciding, not worth it).

Jack, however, couldn’t be bothered with dropping it in the toilet until I told him he could play the iPad while squatting. Boys and their electronics… Why be productive when you can play to your heart’s content all under the guise of a bathroom visit?

Sorry to Jack’s future wife. A mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.

We celebrated Eve’s birthday this month. Double digits. My phone had been confiscated for repairs at the end of December so I have no pics to show for it. Thanks to Tim for maintaining some sort of a visual record.

She requested breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns and chocolate croissants, a steak dinner and a mint brownie ice cream cake. Mom delivered on all counts.

Eve also got a party with friends at the bowling alley, plus a piñata and other games at our house. Unfortunately, all pictures of above activities are on my loaner phone-I’m the dork that forgot to download them before turning it back in at the apple store. Face palm.

In other news: Jack got a Dexa scan, his second ever. Last time he got one, I had to pull out all the stops to get him to fall asleep for it. He was 18 months old and, considering that one had to lie completely still for approximately three minutes, sleep was an absolute must.

Naturally, I went into this scan apprehensive about the same possibility. He’s a three-year-old boy in constant motion (except when sitting on the toilet with an iPad in his lap, of course).

On the plus side, three-year-olds CAN be reasoned with, contrary to popular belief. I simply told him he had to lie super still while they took pictures of his bones. No ouchies. And that’s all it took.

One and done, folks. My kid is amazing.

His scan shows a 42% improvement in spine density and 18% overall improvement. Great news, obviously.

Basketball season began in January and that pretty much sums up our month.

Rachel ready to get in the game.
Eve in shock that she was selected for the jump ball. (Second shortest on the team).

Despite the woes of the flu, January was pretty darn great. No snow shoveling to speak of, so what more can a girl ask?

Sea life print – Elementary Art Lesson

Printmaking is such a fun medium to teach to elementary students. I try to do at least one lesson in block printing per year and it typically ends up being the favorite/most memorable for the kids.

I thought I’d go out on a limb with the fourth-graders and teach them how to do a reduction print of a sea animal. Before we began, however, I demonstrated the concept of a mirror image by having one of the students stand facing me and mirror my movements. We discussed how when I move my right hand, the student moved her left hand and vice versa. The point I tried to make was that when carving a block for printmaking (in our case, styrofoam), the resulting print will be a mirror image of that carving.

Here’s a brief explanation of the project:

  • Carve simple outline of sea creature.
  • Apply ink evenly using a brayer.
  • Press foam sheet face down on paper to make a print.
  • Carve details into foam and cut out sea creature.
  • Apply black ink to foam and place carefully face down on original print.
  • Press, remove and voila! Reduction print.

Below is the slideshow (Powerpoint) I used to introduce the project to the students. Feel free to use and adjust it to meet the needs of your classroom.

Sea Life Print PowerpointDownload

Family Home Evening Pie Chart.

It became readily apparent in recent months that our approach to teaching our children the gospel of Jesus Christ in our homes was going over the head of our three-year-old. Our daily scripture study involved reading a chapter from the Book of Mormon each night. Occasionally, Jack would ask to “read” with us, but mostly he preferred jumping on the couch or throwing balls in our faces.

I consoled myself with the fact that four of our five children were “getting it” to some extent and left it at that.

Family Home Evening – our weekly gospel study session – was a different story. When our other kids were little, we made sure lessons were age-appropriate. We used lots of pictures, object lessons, simple stories and music to approach teaching important truths and principles.

As the kids have gotten older, the topics of Family Home Evening and the methodology used to discuss them graduated to a more in-depth level. This past year, we decided to watch and discuss a talk from the most recent general conference. Which worked great for the older kids. Jack, not so much.

I determined that a brief lesson designed just for Jack needed to be incorporated into our Family Home Evening routine. We started last week. Eve taught an adorable lesson on Noah and the ark, complete with pictures and music.

From here on out, we will take turns preparing a short lesson for Jack as well as discuss a general conference talk.

Of course, that meant revamping our tried and true FHE pie chart. Here’s how it looks now:

If this is something you could use, feel free to use this printable version.

I’m going to miss this someday.

Every time we moms are out in public with our littles we hear it from older parents.

“They grow up SO fast.” “Cherish this time.” “They won’t stay little forever.”

Beneath a strained smile, we brush off the comment as patronizing. We roll our eyes to ourselves, convinced that this phase will never end. The sleep deprivation, the babes weighing down our arms, the constant messes, the power struggles, the depleted sense of “self”.

To be sure, the baby/toddler/preschooler phase can wear down the best of us.

But you know what?

The old ladies are right. One day I was stuffing four little bodies into a Costco cart and the next I was sending the youngest of them off to kindergarten.

One day I counted down the hours until my husband came home from work and the next I was so busy shuttling my school-age children around that I was surprised at how early he walked in the door.

One day I was battling the two-year-old tantrums and the next I was helping one of my daughters grapple with teenage depression.

One day I was arranging play dates left and right and the next I was hosting 10-12 girls for a Halloween party that my daughter had planned and prepared entirely by herself.

One day I was whipping up macaroni and cheese for the kids on a regular basis and the next day they were whipping it up so that Tim and I could go out for dinner.

One day they went from this:

To this:

Overnight.

I’d like to think I followed the advice of more experienced moms and enjoyed those earlier days. I did my best to not shrug off the comments at the grocery store about how short this time is. I gave it my best shot.

It didn’t make the time slow down any. Lucky for me, though, I get another chance at this stage of life. Four years ago when I found out I had a viable pregnancy almost seven years after the last one, I pretty much laughed out loud. Pushing the reset button at the ripe old age of 38 was never part of the plan.

Fortunately, for me, a mother of advanced age, I had the perspective I didn’t have the first time around (try though I did to cultivate it). “They grow up SO fast.” “Cherish this time.” “They won’t stay little forever.”

Consequently, raising little Jack has been an absolute joy. Sure, I am older, and even more exhausted than the first time around. But I’m wiser, too. Wise enough to know that I’m going to miss this someday.

We would all do well to remind ourselves of that fact, in every stage of life. “I’m going to miss this someday”.

I may not love that I have to accompany my teenage daughter every single time she gets behind the wheel of a car until she gets her license. But I can have the foresight that when she does, I’m going to miss the hours we got to spend one-on-one in the car during those critical teenage years.

Planning birthday parties for my ten-year-old may tax my creativity (and wallet) but I may miss the day that she valued my input on her activities.

I may be exasperated that every waking hour encompasses meeting the needs of each of my five children but I will likely long for that sense of purpose behind my life and activities when those kiddos are up and out.

It’s good to look to the future with hope and anticipation. It’s also beneficial to recognize the possibility that our current circumstances are equally worthy of enjoyment. That in hindsight, we might actually miss the moments we are living right now.

But the question is, how?

  1. Remember when you were almost due with your first child and all the older moms told you to “sleep when the baby sleeps”? I do. You know what’s great about sleeping when the baby sleeps (within reason, because, as we all know, it isn’t realistic to sleep 15 plus hours a day)? You can give your best, well-rested self to your child during their waking hours. And you’ll enjoy each moment a lot more when you’re not constantly nodding off during play time. Try napping when your kid does. It might surprise you how much your life and energy improve.
  2. When my babes were little, a more experienced mom told me that at the end of every night, she would sneak into her kids’ bedrooms and watch them sleep for a moment. Let’s face it, kids are adorable when they sleep. The sight of their angelic little faces reawakens that sense of love and gratitude for the opportunity to be their mother, despite the challenges of the day. Try it out.
  3. Write it down. I started a blog when my oldest was four years old (I had three kids at the time). Had I not, I would never remember that she had asked me to rename her “Cinderella”. Or that her younger sister had swallowed a penny. I certainly wouldn’t remember that all of my children managed to climb out on the roof one night. Scratch that. You don’t forget stuff like that. Point is, reading about those early parenting days is a whole lot more enjoyable than living them. So keep a record.

“They grow up SO fast.” The old ladies are right. So let’s quit rolling our eyes and enjoy those little ones.

You don’t need a housekeeper. You’ve got kids.

Yes, I realize that to some, this idea might seem foolish. After all, entropy exists in all spaces that kids inhabit. Messes and children are practically synonymous.

However, it IS possible to keep a clean house that houses children without hiring a housekeeper (or doing it all yourself). I promise. I have five little (and not so little) munchkins. I gave up dreams of a perfect house long ago – but I can also assure you that my house ranks reasonably high in the “tidy” factor.

How do I do it? Why slave labor, of course. (At least that’s what my kids might call it). I refer to it as “earning your keep”. Nothing comes for free in this house.

Sure, I’m obligated to feed, clothe, love and teach you, and part of that teaching demands that you learn to clean up after yourselves. I’ve blogged about it before. As a review, the basic rundown is this:

  1. Self-maintenance chores: These include tidying your own spaces (bedroom, primarily), picking up after yourself in common areas, and other such things that are age-appropriate such as packing your own lunch for school, brushing your teeth, doing laundry, etc. As a child gets older, self-maintenance chores increase in number, as do his/her privileges. My kids are not paid for these chores – they are regarded as an opportunity to learn independence.
  2. Family chores: These are responsibilities outlined on a chore chart. They benefit the entire family and apply to spaces occupied/used by everyone in the family. They include things like cleaning bathrooms, vacuuming, dusting, etc. I break them down into smaller tasks to trick their minds into thinking they’re doing less work. And it works! Though the kids don’t earn money for each specific chore, their “allowance” is contingent upon satisfactory completion of them on a weekly basis.
  3. Paid chores: I assign these on an as-needed basis. I pretty much always have extra work available, if the kids want to earn a little cash on the side. My personal favorites (in other words, the chores I tend to neglect): sorting socks, shredding paper bills and statements, cleaning windows, and dusting blinds.

Since we added an extra 700 square feet onto our house in 2018, Tim and I determined that we needed to reconfigure our chore chart a bit to accommodate the extra space. (And to keep me from having to do the legwork). Because, hello, I am a homemaker, not everyone’s personal maid.

Here’s the new chore chart.

It looks about the same as the old chore chart (to trick the kiddos into thinking nothing has changed, of course) but it accounts for the new bathroom, the extra living space downstairs, and the bonus room.

We do all these chores on a Friday afternoon, and, I kid you not, each of my daughters only has to do about 30-45 minutes of work (in addition to cleaning their rooms) and the house is immaculate. Almost.

Seriously, don’t hire a housekeeper. Put those kids to work. It’s their house, too. They need to feel some ownership and responsibility. That is best accomplished with good old-fashioned elbow grease.