One Step Ahead

One of the best pieces of parenting advice my mom has given me is: stay one step ahead of your kids. Stay ahead of them and they will have somewhere to follow (by implication: don’t, and they’ll hang out and bicker all day).

There’s some truth to that. I think I’m naturally inclined to do what strikes in the moment, or let the kids have free play, so it takes some planning to think ahead. Every Sunday, I try to sit down and update the dry-erase board with their weekly lesson plans. We do a few categories that are easy: catechism (I just use the next question on this new city catechism tool from Tim Keller), memory verse (I pick a song from the GT Halo series—memorizing to music is incredibly quick and effective), Chinese (pick a few new characters). Then math, science, history, art, and/or music: if I know what they’re learning at school in those categories, I teach those. Otherwise, I pick whatever topic strikes my fancy (this week: food groups and shapes; last week: history of Taiwan to go with the presidential elections). Typically this involves some online research and preparing some diagrams to put up on the wall or handouts to color. Lately I’ve gotten into looking up fun science experiments. It helps to check out related books from the library.

Generally, we try to do one lesson per night. Last fall, we were shuttling the older two to all kinds of outside lessons, but it just felt too busy; it was probably fine for Ellie, but Eric was clearly tiring out, and it split up the family too much. We decided to just stop everything for now and focus on teaching things at home. The range of ages is a challenge, but generally I teach to Ellie’s level and find the boys tag along fine, as long as I keep the activities varied.

Thinking ahead is good too in terms of stepping back occasionally and assessing how each child can grow in terms of their personality, character, and habits, and how to help build up their strengths and redirect or work through weaknesses.

Definitely takes some discipline, but it pays off: the kids have something to look forward to, or something to redirect them when they’re bickering from boredom. They’re like sponges; pretty much able to soak up whatever I teach them. And any forethought I’m able to give about their character growth equips me to make the most out of random conversations during the day.

Dunes

We dropped off the younger two today with my mom, I brought along the pump, and we went with the Ellie and Eric to the outer banks to climb sand dunes. So peaceful and utterly quiet. The kids took off their shoes and ran over the miles of sand.

Aligning Orbits

Dave means many things to me, but if I had to pick the one that I most value, it’s probably that he’s my best friend. I can connect better with him, talk about more with him, and be understood better by him than by anyone else. It’s ironic, then, that I think this is a season of life where it’s hard to communicate, both because of the kids, and because our worlds are increasingly different with my staying more at home. When we first met, we orbited in the same world, sometimes working in the same hospital. We both took care of Ellie the same amount.

In the last five years our paths have increasingly diverged: Dave’s advanced more and more in his career, with increasing recognition and responsibility and travel, and gone back for more schooling. I have worked increasingly less and been more and more at home. He thinks about work projects and dissertations; I think about the kids, their schooling, meals, and the house. Sometimes it can feel like we’re in different orbits, crossing only when we have to run the logistics of life together. We’ve gotten really effective at functioning together as caregivers, but it’s sometimes not as natural to connect about deeper thoughts and emotions. It’s easy to see Dave as childcare-relief, or errand-runner, but harder to see the real Dave, Dave for who he is, not for what we have to do in life together.

I can see why divorce rates are high twenty years in, after the kids leave for college and you realize you don’t have much in common anymore. I think it’s a real testimony to align more strongly together during these childrearing years—I think we have that, but it takes more mindfulness than it used to. I have to care about the details of his day and world, and have grace with including him in mine as much as he can, so that we can think together for each other. We have to schedule time to connect—regular date-nights, reading through a book together, praying together, going to small group together—and regularly ask questions like, what has God been showing you lately? what’s been on your mind? The Dave of today, after all, is not the same as the Dave of yesterday, last week, or last year, and I don’t want to miss out. If I grow closer to anyone these days, I want it to be him.

Not Yelling At The Kids

I think I’m yelling too much at the kids, and it bothers me. When they don’t do what I ask them to do, I repeat myself to the point of getting frustrated and raising my voice, at which point they finally respond. This morning, I had to get all of them out of bed/crib, dressed, diapers changed, fed, teeth brushed, table cleared, dishes washed, hair tied, nursed, jacketed, shoed, buckled in, bags and lunches loaded, in thirty minutes. I did a lot of put those books away and eat! if you don’t finish in ten minutes you don’t eat! and what did I tell you about getting dressed? don’t just stand there!

Other common yelling scenarios include cleaning up after playing, starting lessons, not bickering, getting into the tub, getting out of the tub, getting into bed, getting out of bed, eating, sitting down in their chairs while eating…

I’m just challenged that any yelling or talking in frustration is bad. It teaches disrespectful communication. Some studies suggest verbal aggression is linked to issues with self-esteem, aggression, and depression (not sure how far to take that, but disturbing nonetheless). And it should be something I can decide not to do. Otherwise all I’m teaching them now is not to listen when I ask them to do something (by repeating myself with no effect), or that they only need to listen when I sound frustrated (since that is when they respond).

Here is what most articles have to say about getting your kids to listen to you:

1. Make sure you have your kids’ attention. At the very least, eye contact, and verbal affirmation from the kid that they heard you.

2. Say it once. Don’t repeat yourself.

3. If they don’t obey, explain your rationale.

4. If they still don’t obey, warn them about consequences (either natural consequences or discipline). Then be consistent about allowing/enforcing those consequences.

Some random thoughts I have about how to work on this issue for me:

- again, examine myself: how can I give myself more physical and emotional reserve to deal with this? For example: I obviously need to get up earlier in the mornings to give us more time to get ready. Perhaps I should be intentional about praying before the day starts.

- prepare the child for my expectations and explain rationale earlier, before the situation occurs. For example: explain the night before why they need to obey the next morning.

- get verbal affirmation: ask the kids to say “okay, mom” when they hear me. Keep in mind that kids’ peripheral attention may be worse than what I’d expect from an adult, especially if engaged in play. Don’t assume they are disobeying unless I’ve confirmed they did hear. Expect myself to be physically close enough to tap them on shoulder or squat down to their faces if I want full attention (don’t shout across room or stories).

- be open to natural consequences: eg, no time for a bigger breakfast if they lag at getting dressed.

Anyway, it’s clearly a spectrum. I don’t want to be giving them a time-out every time I have to repeat myself about anything, nor do I think I expect them to jump up and obey every little command—they’re kids, not soldiers. I guess what I want is an atmosphere of respectful communication—where they listen to what I say, and I listen if appropriate to their thoughts—and a habit of timely obedience—because they respect my authority and have faith in my love, just as we ought to obey God immediately, even when we may not want to or may not understand why. And I want not to yell, which is ultimately up to me. Still thinking this one through.

Apple Cider Donut Cake

So I have made this cake twice already this week, with leftover cider we had in the pantry. Credit for recipe goes to my friend, who pinned it from this blog, who adapted it from two in the kitchen, who adapted it from serious eats... I decreased the sugar coating so now I can say I've adapted it too! Very yummy.

Cake

2 large Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and chopped

1 1/2 cups apple cider

1/2 cup milk, at room temperature

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 cup of unsalted butter, softened

3/4 cup white sugar

1/2 cup packed light brown sugar

3 large eggs, at room temperature

1/4 cup vegetable oil (may sub with coconut oil)

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1. Preheat to 350. Oil up a bundt pan.

2. In a small saucepan, bring chopped apples and cider to boil over medium; reduce heat and simmer until apples fork tender, ~10-12 min. Remove from heat, cool, and puree. Measure out 1 cup, stir in milk, and set aside. (there’s extra apple-cider-puree; the recipe overshoots to make sure there’s enough as yield from apples may vary)

3. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon and set aside.

4. Cream butter, white sugar, and brown sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy. Mix in eggs one at a time. Add oil. Alternate adding the flour and apple/milk mixture, scraping bowl as needed. Add vanilla extract.

5. Pour into bundt pan. Bake 35-45 min or until toothpick comes out clean. Cool in pan x 10 min, then remove from pan and cool x 30 min.

Cider Glaze

1/2-1/4 cup butter

1/4 cup sugar

1/8 cup water

1/4 cup cider

Melt butter, sugar, and water over medium high heat; boil for 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in cider. Brush over cake in several passes.

Cinnamon Sugar Coating

6 TB white sugar

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1/8 tsp ground nutmeg

Combine and sprinkle over glazed cake, using fingers to rub it into the sides.