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Imagine that. I’m not sure what the point of it all is, but 15 out of a gazillionty is really good. I think I’ll celebrate. Anyone wanna run circles in the yard with me while the kids chase us? Didn’t think so.

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Valentine's Chocolate for Kids

He was building our second restaurant and spent over 12 hours a day, 7 days a week on construction. My mission in California was to pick up a uhaul trailer, a pizza prep fridge, empty our storage unit (collecting dust for 8 years), spend a week at a beach house in San Diego with my Dad and attend my sister’s wedding.

The trip was a big deal for me, being alone and fully responsible for all 5 kids, missing my husband and visiting family alone was strange. Checking into a hotel as the only adult with 5 kids was strange, renting a uHaul trailer was strange. These were grown-up things that I just had never done before, alone.

The time we spent at the beach was wonderful. My Dad and step mom are amazing, two of my favorite people in the world. When they married, He had two teenage daughters (me & my sister) and she had two teenage sons and a 7 yr old daughter. We’re all grown now, that week at the beach was so much fun, I’d never even met my brothers’ wives before and since then they’ve each had babies.

At my sister’s wedding I was in an odd mood. I was missing my husband and a little annoyed with my sister’s obsessive attention to detail. She wasn’t a bridezilla, but I still wasn’t very tolerant of her that weekend. Somehow dressing and grooming myself plus 5 children seemed a little more worthy-of-whining than whatever she was complaining about. I think I held it together, I kept telling myself “That’s just how she is” and “Her intentions are pure.” She wasn’t trying to stress anyone out, she just wanted things perfect. She’s changed so much since she’s become a mother. I hope now that she rolls with the punches a little better.

Valentines for my Kids

At the reception (which was lovely) my dad made a speech that’s echoed back to me so many times. Perhaps my weird mood made it stick in my mind. Either way, my Dad is a really good speaker. I I wish I’d inherited that trait. He knows how to keep a crowd’s attention, how to tell a story and how to stay on topic. He starts off entertaining and ends with applause, every time. He’s always done well in sales and never had trouble with the ladies.

Dad & Vicki went through 3 different spouses (collectively) until they found one another. His speech (or was it a toast?) mainly said that it’s important to show people how much you love them.

“Every day I try to out-love her and every day she beats me at it. One day I get up to make her breakfast and she’s got my breakfast & coffee on a tray, my computer fired up for work and my favorite towel hanging in the bathroom.” (And my quote may totally be remembered wrong, but that’s close enough)

I knew they were very loving, several years ago I remember her staring into his eyes and saying “I’d eat bees for you, babe” and it was the sweetest thing.

Anyway, that speech and the idea of competitive love-showing has brought me so much joy over the past few years.

I used to think divorce was a sign of failure. I used to think it was awful, giving up like that. In spite of that belief, whenever our marriage was in trouble I’d always be the one who wanted to run away. I think Dad’s speech, and the echo of it playing in my head for 4 years, has made a big difference.

It was such a profound idea, the idea of constantly showing love, that it took him 3 marriages to figure it out. Everything happens for a reason and I think, today, that every spouse and ex-spouse in my parental background is better off, shaped by the people they’ve chosen to love. I’m no longer feeling critical of their “failed” marriages because the things they learned about themselves, about love and about life are successes, by any measure.

I’m also no longer compelled to feel “unloved” by my husband whenever we disagree. It took a lot of fighting for us to come to a place of constant communication, but we’re here. Fighting isn’t failing, it’s just an aggressive attempt to learn how to get along. In every fight, isn’t there a seed of wanting peace?

Our kids have taught us the value of constantly showing our love, too. Love letters are always being exchanged in our house. A couple months ago I bought a few heart-shaped platters. They were a hit; whenever I serve food on them the kids think it’s special. My mom gifted the children with their own teeny little mailboxes and they’re always sending each other love notes.

This year for Valentine’s day I picked up a sake set covered in hearts for the kids. We’re going to have a tea party (because they love tea parties) I doubt these dishes will ever see real sake, but the kids will love that the cups are teeny and the hearts will remind them that they are loved.

Maybe some day my husband and I will go out for a romantic Valentine’s Day Dinner. There’s plenty of time for that when the kids are grown. Until then, we’re surrounded by love, and the little picture of my sister’s wedding serves as a reminder each time I see it that maybe, if I get up early enough and don’t get caught, I can sneak in more love-showing than anyone in the family. Because that’s how I want to roll.
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Here are a few sample love letters I’m using for my kids. I’ve tried to steer clear of labeling “you’re so ____” and make them expressions of love, rather than pride. Enjoy…

Dear_________,
I love you. I’m having a lot of fun being your mommy. I like the stories you tell me and I’m glad you enjoy your new haircut. I’m looking forward to many more years as your mommy.

Dear________,
Happy Valentine’s Day. I wanted to tell you that I’m glad to be your mommy. I noticed that you enjoy chocolate, so I hope you like this gift. Thank you for being my kid.

Dear _________,
Hello, this is mom. I have a message for you. You are special to me. Every day I am happy to have you in our family. I hope you are happy to be here, too.

Dear________,
I’ve had so much fun watching you grow up. You might think you have a lot to learn, but I am learning so much from you. We can never know what lies ahead, only what lies within and I’ve noticed that within you, you have so many gifts and talents. Watching you use them and share them with the world is truly one of the best things about being a mother.

Dear_______,
Thank you for being you. I know it sounds lame, but sometimes you are exactly who I need to be around. I’m so glad that you share so much of your life and your thoughts with me. I might tease you about talking so much, but to be honest, no day would be complete without your narrative. I love listening to the way you think and your perceptions about the world. Every day, you amaze me with your insights, I’m very lucky to be learning from you.

Valentines for Teens

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In the absence of forced work, I have failed to harvest all my farmville trees and animals, though I have claimed lost calves, fertilized my friend’s farms and chicken coops and sent presents to all the children in my FarmVille neighborhood.

I found a few friends from high school and days beyond. I find it so strange that I see their name & face and feel so happy to have found them. It’s gratifying to see their photos, get a feel for their personality, lifestyle & career choices and then MOVE ON because I really don’t have much to say after 18ish years. I guess if we were together, chatting would be easier. It’s so nice to see them all, though. I always wonder if that one girl knew I had a nasty impression of her. She doesn’t appear to be bothered by it, if she does. Just to be safe, I’m not requesting friendship. Or maybe I should. What a complicated world this FaceBook is.

Speaking of FaceBook, I had the strangest experience. I’m sitting in the office at a church, working on their website and chatting with a lady who was doing paperwork. She mentioned a niece in Oregon that she just visited. A little bit later, she mentioned that the niece worked from home, writing online. THEN- she mentioned that the niece had 8 kids and I said “Jeez, I probably know her, it’s a small world, this online writing business.” The woman must have thought I was kidding, and later, she mentioned that her niece was a doula. The wheels started turning and I thought of a lady I first met online in <<>> Sure enough- this was the same lady. I don’t know why I thought this was a FaceBook story, except I went right to my FaceBook when I got home and sent her a note to say “Heyyy, I know your Aunt.”

Anyway, we had the most glorious day the other day. We were actually headed for the park when the girls unanimously decided that they wanted to go to the pound and walk a dog. We visited dogs and cats, then finally chose a friendly looking dog to walk. This dog was the absolute sweetest puppy EVER. he was so well behaved, he stayed right at my knee on the leash. i ran with him and when i stopped, he stopped. I don’t think I’ve ever held the leash of a dog that was so obedient. He was so sweet. We took him to the no-leash zone and he played fetch, he rolled over, he sat and it was just so sweet. If you live in Yakima & you’re looking for a dog, tell the Humane Society that you want Jordan. Then change his name. He’s more like a Buddy or a Mack or something.

Anyway, after the pound, I wanted a latte, so we drove through Mocha Tree. I got each of the kids a small cocoa. These are rare luxuries for a family our size. I didn’t stress about spills before they happened and, miraculously, there were NO SPILLS.

We planned to head to the park but it was pretty cold, so we went to the playplace in the mall instead. That’s like a playground, right? The older girls had some gift cards leftover from Christmas, so they shopped while The 4 younger ones and I hung out at the food court.

When the littler ones got sick of the food court, we all headed down to Claire’s because, well, because little girls are magnetically drawn to large amounts of glitter, feathers, beads, elastic and rhinestones. It’s probably hormones.

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Then, we had to leave. Meagan had dance class, so we headed to the other end of town to drop her off. I had to check Goodwill, I have a list of random things I’m keeping my eyes open for, so I tend to visit during Wednesday night dance classes. They didn’t have what I was looking for, but of course, each child found something she wanted. Gabriella found an American Girl Doll for $4 (SCORE) and Grace found a big bag o’toys, with plenty of Polly Pockets and Barbie clothes. Madelyn found a bag with about 8 Barbies in it, male and female, about 40% dressed.

It might sound like a typical day out with daughters, but I’m telling you, we DO NOT SHOP as a general rule. This was so much fun. I don’t think I have EVER taken them to the espresso stand. Buying them each their own drink was just SO NOT NORMAL for us, but it was glorious. Life is so sweet.

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My 2 yr old is reaching for a basket. She’s in my arms and it’s just out of her reach. She grunts and says “Help me reach it mommy” (but not like that, it’s more like 2 words “hewlpme reachitmommy”) and I lean over so she can reach.

I discover she was really reaching for the crochet hook inside. It’s hooked around one of the basket’s bottom pieces of straw, so the basket comes, too. She laughs “gottit bakstick mommy” and I turn to see why she’s laughing. She’s fumbling to get the basket off the hook.

I’d rather her play with the basket than the hook. It looks like she’s caught a fish. I tell her so and she thinks it’s funny.

She frees the crochet hook and looks in the basket. (which seems way more fun than the hook now, luckily) There’s nothing in there, obviously. She gives me a funny look. “Got fish in there?” She asks me. I said “You do?” and she decides that this is fun and plays along.

“Yeah, I got jellyfish in there, hold it.” I had a traumatic jellyfish issue in Hawaii when I was 9. Portugese man-o-wars, to be exact. I strung them all over my arms and stomped around the beach like a sea monster. A few hours later I was soaking in the tub with herbs and potions under the supervision of the local witch doctor, waiting for the swelling to go down and for signs of emergency, which would involve an air lift to the hospital. It wasn’t much fun. Nor was it fun that my Grandma stood over in the doorway, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that my breasts had begun to develop. To this day, I think she scared them. I’m not messing with jellyfish, I tell my daughter.

“No way, jellyfish sting, I don’t want to hold jellyfish.” “Oh” she looks down, a little dismayed, so I suggest she catches another kind of fish. She dumps the jellyfish back into the imaginary sea and catches “nahwahn fish” (another one fish) to show me. We admire the fish. it’s wet and floppy. She says that it “yooks yummy” but I’m not so easily convinced. She wants to go upstairs and show the girls. But first, she dumps out the new fish in order to catch more jellyfish.

So I go upstairs with her because it’s time for the nightly bedtime ritual anyway. I’ve mentioned before that we don’t have bedtimes, instead we just hang out and the kids still fall asleep.

Just because we don’t have a bedtime, it doesn’t mean we don’t go to bed, and it doesn’t mean we don’t have similar bedtime rituals. Ours are just more fun

Generally, We snuggle in on the 9 yr old’s bed, I go through a nightly checklist “did you brush your teeth?” and when the answer isn’t “yes of course” I sometimes ask “are you going to?” (only one sometimes doesn’t want to. A piggyback ride down the stairs usually solves it, she doesn’t like to be downstairs alone) Then we make sure feet are clean, especially in the summer. We make sure jammies are on, I collect the dirty clothes basket, helping make sure their toy are put away and sometimes we watch a movie.

The other day we had a great time making friendship bracelets. Sometimes we just tell stories or play word games or board games. Usually we read books, They each pick one (because I can guarantee I won’t fall asleep through 1 book each. If I’m still conscious when those are done, I’ll read more. The limit of 1 book is imposed because I tend to fall asleep reading and jumble the words, which the find amusing until they discover I can’t read anymore.

Tonight, I went in to escort Evelyn & her jellyfish, then read to them (not knowing exactly what was in store, I never do).

When we reached the top of the stairs, she goes in to my 16 yr old’s room first. “Embahlee, yookit, i got jellyfish. see jellyfish. yookit me bakstick (basket)” and she proceeds to show Emilee her basket and Emilee is notably impressed. Then we head out (cordial goodbyes and goodnights included) While I’m busy giving Emilee a goofy look, Evelyn is yelling to me from the hall “gum on mommy yets go” We arrive into the younger girl’s room and Evelyn goes from girl to girl, telling them about her jellyfish. They’re almost completely ignoring her and she’s annoyed, so I announce out loud. “Evelyn has caught some jellyfish in her basket and came all the way upstairs to show you girls.”

Within 5 minutes, we’re all sitting on the bed, pretending to catch fish in the ocean from our boat (the bed).

So yes, it’s true. We don’t have bedtimes.

But we do have bedtime rituals, which consist of enjoying each moment together until our bodies would rather sleep.

We sing songs, we make art projects, we watch documentaries, web videos, broadway shows and silent movies and old musicals or music videos, we draw or write or work out puzzles in schoolbooks or coloring books. Our bedtime stories, when we read them (sometimes 20 minutes a day, sometimes 90 minutes, sometimes zero minutes a day, even a week at times) may be fiction or nonfiction, color or black and white, classic or new or used, bought with allowance or given as a gift. They may be bestsellers, and sometimes they suck. Sometimes they’re not even in English, or a language we understand. It’s not about the books, it’s about the time we spend together. And falling asleep should be a pleasant part of one’s day.

So no, we don’t have a bedtime and we don’t fight about going to sleep. I’m not concerned about their sleeping habits because I don’t make a habit of scheduling things that will interfere with their natural sleepy times.

I’m not afraid that they won’t “learn to sleep” because they already know how to sleep. I don’t feel the need to manipulate their sleep times. It’s exhausting enough keeping up with their awake times.

After the deep-sea fishing expedition, we settled down. When the girls agreed upon tonight’s bedtime plan, we were to watch Dora the Explorer, then the 2nd half of Hannah Montana (they fell asleep last time, so we agreed that we’d have to watch the rest tonight)

The kids laughed at me when I mistakenly referred to “The Hoedown Throw Down” as “The Barnyard Stomp.” I was impressed that they knew the entire dance. That’s Gabriella’s favorite song. Because Gabriella got to play her favorite song for me, we needed to play Madelyn’s, too. She’s 6 and teeny, shrimpy, petite and squeaky. But she knows all the words to “The Climb” and I really had to fight back the tears. Who knew Hannah Montana had such a positive message? I sure hope she maintains her good-girl image.

Anyway, I asked the girls where they wanted the dolls (because the bed was covered with barbies, all of whom were arranged in rows, with swimsuits and beach blankets (made of socks and washcloths)

Grace swooshed them all off the bed into a pile in one motion. I started picking them up & said “Which toybox do these belong in?’ and Gabriella (not at all offended by Grace’s swooshing, by the way) said “They don’t go in a toybox, mom. They have a life, you know. They each go to their own houses, and she proceeded to place them all over the room, carefully into lifelike positions. The other girls seemed to know where each doll’s house is and what position they should be in. Most of the dolls were in beds, but some were sitting and reading, others were on their computer, one had to get in the car & drive all night to get to the airport and some were on the phone (presumably with each other)

The putting Barbies “away” took about ten minutes and when it was complete, I asked that the light be turned off so we could watch the movie. Someone pushed play & we watched the rest of the film, snuggled in together. By the time it ended, only I was awake.

I headed downstairs feeling like the luckiest mom in the world. When I hear other moms say “I know you don’t have a bedtime but I need to put my kids to bed at 7:30 or I will go crazy” I just shake my head. I’m not sure what they picture, but nothing is more fun or relaxing than allowing sleep to come, giving in to what the children want and just being present with them, approaching the end of the day with love and patience, allowing things to be put in order and letting love define the time, rather than the clock.

So what if it was almost 10:30 when I left their room. Instead of going in at 6am to wake them up (before the sun rises) for school, I get to sip my coffee (relishing one of the rare silent moments in my day) tiptoe in and kiss their foreheads. I get to make pancakes in peace and quiet, wondering which child will wake up to the smell & greet me with stinky kisses first. I’m not a morning person. Peacefulness and love, to begin and end each day, that’s what I need for my sanity.

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