I just realized that the beloved name of “Mommy” has departed from my house, most likely forever. As I was lying in bed this morning, listening to my 4-year-old yelling my name over and over again in an attempt to get me to carry him down the stairs, it occurred to me that he was yelling, “Mom!”, his siblings’ name for me. I’ve tried to encourage him to stick with “Mommy” because I cherish the name and I know it’s usually a short-lived one; however, I suppose listening to his three older siblings call me “Mom” constantly has put an untimely end to it, an end that I didn’t even notice until now.

This realization actually makes me very sad in a way, because it means that my kids are all past that point of sweet, unquestioned trusting affection that comes with the name, “Mommy.” Although I’m happy to have kids who are all sleeping through the night, can dress themselves and are relatively independent, it’s still the end of an era.

Do your kids still call you those endearing childhood names?

When the girls were younger, say 4 or 5, we gave them an allowance of 75¢ a week. 25¢ for spending, 25¢ to save and 25¢ for church offering. Now that they are nearly 10, we’ve increased it to $3 per week, with the same principle — $1 for spending, $1 to save and $1 for church offering. When the allowances actually get paid, that is.

Cody and Logan have never gotten an allowance, and I usually forget to give the girls theirs unless we’re shopping and they want something. At that point, it’s purely a guess as to how much I owe them.

I’m curious about other people’s thoughts and practices on allowances. Do you set up a day every week to pay everyone? Keep piggy banks for each kid? Designate the allowance into parts as I do? How much do you give your kids? Do you put the savings in an account? At what age did you start giving your kids allowances? Do they have to work to earn any or all of it?

Last Thursday afternoon found me in the emergency room with Rachel, who had been having severe abdominal pain all morning, and was suspected to be suffering from appendicitis (it all turned out fine). She had a series of tests including blood work, a CT scan, an x-ray and an ultrasound.

The latter proved to be a little bewildering to me. I watched, mesmerized, as dark gray blobs swayed and circled on the screen, trying to pick out anything familiar by the position of the scanner on Rachel’s belly. After a few minutes, it became rather obvious that there was no way I was going to recognize anything, just as baby parts all looked like lumps when I had my first ultrasound. Still, I couldn’t help but be transfixed.

That is, until the ultrasound technician said, “Look, here’s Rachel’s right ovary.”

What?!?!?

“And here’s her uterus,” she continued.

I stared at the screen, still unable to identify any internal body parts among the bubbling, surging mass I saw, though the technician pointed them out.

I looked at Rachel, not even ten, lying obediently on the bed, and I couldn’t reconcile the two images — the little girl and the visible proof in front of me of the woman she will become.

I felt a strange mixture of discomfort, awe, wonder, incredulity and horror. Discomfort because I felt disturbingly like I was invading her privacy, looking at something I shouldn’t see; awe at the knowledge that one day she will probably carry a baby in there, a baby who will be my grandchild; wonder as it struck me full-force that she is a part of me; incredulity that I was looking at my little girl’s reproductive organs; and horror by the thought of my baby engaging in any activity which would have to do with said organs.

Needless to say, I stumbled back out of the room, feeling disoriented and befuddled. I had, in some weird sense, just seen the future, hadn’t I?

Have you ever experienced a flash or premonition of the man or woman your child will become?

This week has been interesting. Instead of four kids, I’ve had six here since Monday night. (Hence, my sluffing off on the post-a-day thing.)

A friend of mine had a job interview in Idaho and so I volunteered to take her 7-year-old twins for the week.

They’re good girls, and they’ve been having a great time with my twins; nevertheless, I’m even more exhausted than usual. Particularly with four little girls, the tattling and bickering can get completely out of control. Then there’s the whole twin dynamic, with each girl staunchly defending her twin when some perceived injustice has occurred.

The hardest part of having six kids here, besides the obvious extra amount of clean-up, is feeding them. I’ve long ceased to be a creative cook and it’s hard to come up with a variety for all of them twice a day (breakfast is a given). Inevitably, someone was disappointed at every meal, till I felt rather like I was running a restaurant in my effort to please everyone.

I have a feeling that four kids is going to seem strangely easy and normal after this week.

If you have more than four kids, how on earth do you do it? You have my sincere admiration.

When I was single and first married, i.e., before I had kids, I was a fabulous housekeeper. My house was always sparkling and straightened up almost perfectly. I was a little obsessive about it, plus it was remarkably easy to keep that way, even though I felt like I was constantly cleaning up after my husband.

Ha! The kids make their father look like Martha Stewart. 

I’ve noticed that my housekeeping standards have continued to decline with each successive kid, but I never quite understood why. I thought it was because four kids are messy and very difficult to keep up with. While that’s certainly part of it, I realized this past week the main reason I always feel ten steps behind.

I’m tired. So very tired.

The kids were at their grandparents’ house all last week and I was home alone. It was amazing — I barely had to do anything at all. Just a quick clean-up here and there, plus I think I only did something like two loads of laundry instead of the usual twenty. It was wonderful to not have to worry nearly as much about the house falling apart.

When the kids arrived home yesterday morning and I started getting back into the routine of getting them breakfast and cleaning up, I realized how much energy I had thanks to my vacation. I also realized how much work four kids, especially four kids who are home all day, really are. Even if I weren’t working at home part-time, it would be a full-time job just to make sure the house is reasonably clean, the yard is mowed, the kids are fed and bathed and that I’ve spent some time with them.

As it is, something has to get less attention, and that usually ends up being anything related to the house. I used to love to try out new recipes and bake cookies, cakes and breads. I bet it has been a good four years since I’ve tried anything new and baking seems to be more like a quarterly event these days. The dusty bookshelves, peeling paint and dust bunnies would have the old me cringing in horror.

However, I agree with whatever adage it is that says I’d rather have a messy house and spend time with my kids than have a spotless house and miss their growing up years. It’s impossible to do everything, so I try to do what I can, with help from the kids, and get to the other stuff when I have extra time. It always gets done eventually. In a dual between housework and paid work, the money wins every time.

So my floors aren’t sparkling, my windows are full of fingerprints and my landscaping needs a major overhaul. I don’t care. Relationships are far too important to spend all my time worrying about those things.

Because before I know it, the kids will be gone, and then I’ll have all the time in the world to keep my house spotless again.

How do you handle housework in your home?

1. You will be covered in spit-up and other bodily fluids for the first year.

2. Babies are quick, especially when diaperless — be armed with towels.

3. Getting a shower AND brushing your teeth in the same day may be too much to ask for awhile.

4. The window for running errands between feeding times whizzes by. Spend it wisely.

5. Your baby will have a major blow-out in public. More than once.

Have any to add to this list that you’ve learned the hard way?

1. You can take a shower or use the bathroom without an audience when you have kids under 5.

2. The magic marker in your toddler’s hair, ears, nose and clothing will come right out.

3. You’ll get eight consecutive hours of shut-eye once the baby starts “sleeping through the night.”

4. You won’t mind puke, poop and snot at all when it’s your own child’s.

5. Your child would never use her sleeve as a Kleenex.

6. Once you have children, you’ve got this thing down pat.

What myths would you add to this list?

1. “Mommy, you’re a princess!”

2. “You’re my best friend.”

3. “Please stay with me.”

4. “You’re the best mom I ever had!”

Want to add to the list? Post your kid’s best compliment here.

I’m proud to say that I think we have a budding writer in the family. Rachel writes poems and songs, both of which illustrate her grasp and use of language. (Of course, I’m not at all biased or anything.)

The following is a poem that she wrote for me last year, at age 8.

Sunshine

When I wake up in the morning

and feel the sun on my face,

I know that it is time to start my day.

Then I get ready to go outside

and there is the sun waiting to race.

And look there, the birds came out to play.

The sun always beats me to school,

maybe I’ll win today.

After a long day of school, it’s time for bed,

but I’m not worried for tomorrow

the sun will come to play.

Goodnight!

What do you imagine your child will be when he/she grows up, based on what you know about him/her now?

The disposable mentality seems to get more prominent with each generation. My grandmother, who was an adult during the Great Depression, saved everything. She seemed to be subconsciously worried that something of a similar nature could happen again and she was going to be prepared. The only reason she doesn’t save everything she owns anymore is because her apartment is too small.

My mom saves less than my grandma, but still quite a bit more than I do. She’s been known to save buttons, glass jars, scraps of material and plastic containers with abandon.

I seem to have picked up a little of that mentality too, though my mom has looked at me with something like disbelief/disapproval as I’ve pitched certain things. I freely toss plastic bags, aluminum foil and even, gasp, glass jars. I have a hard time not saving certain things though, “just in case.” It seems like I’ll get tired of something or it’ll not work quite right, so I’ll put it in the attic and then a few years later, I’ll need or want it again. Or I’ll save a cool-looking bottle or jar, thinking that I might want to use it someday.

Right. Decisions like that usually cost me a lot of storage space and cleaning time, particularly since I don’t even remember what I’ve saved.

My kids think just about everything is disposable, and totally replaceable, just because so many household items are today. We have disposable containers, disposable plates, batteries, you name it. That’s what the kids see, so when something happens to an expensive item, they say, “Well, we can just get a new one.” Uh, no. They, particularly the younger ones, don’t have a clue how to put a value on their belongings.

The boys each got a Leapster for Christmas. Cody has that GameBoy obsession I referred to in my post, The GameBoy Addiction, so I thought a Leapster might be a good gift for him since it’s supposed to be educational. Sure enough, like many toys before them, both Leapsters have already started acting funny, most likely because they have been dropped on the floor more than once. <<gritting teeth>>

When I said that the Leapster just probably isn’t working right anymore, Cody nonchalantly said he’d just get a new one. I tried to explain that Leapsters are not cheap and that once it breaks, that’s it, so he better learn to take care of it. He just looked at me with a blank expression, clearly not understanding why this wasn’t as replaceable as a roll of toilet paper.

I’m sure it’s hard for little kids in this century to grasp which things are disposable and which are not (can you say “dollar store?”), but I think it’s important to teach them to respect and take care of their belongings anyway.

Some day we might not have the luxury of throwing things away so easily.

What do you think about the disposable mentality and its effect on kids?