Pasta Fagioli and Chopsticks

It’s been a January. Apparently, it’s also been about two weeks since I posted on this blog. Not that there hasn’t been anything going on. It’s just that when you’re on your second round of sickness within a month, and the majority of the family activities include coughing sneezing, or…other things, it just doesn’t feel like there’s much to write about.

But life has been plugging along. Time on the couch with sickness has also provided lots of time to read aloud and explore some fun crafts. We’re focusing this month on China, courtesy of a Gladys Aylward biography we’re using as a family read-aloud. We’ve also made time for some other destinations, visiting the snowy north with read-alouds from Terry Lynn Johnson and discovering life during the Irish Potato Famine with an audiobook from Patricia Reilly Giff. 

That’s not to say I haven’t been experiencing a little cabin fever. Facebook friends will recall the day I went a little catawampus and decided to write my own math problems:

“If Mommy has to do a load of laundry every weekday to get it all done, and she misses Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, how many loads will she have to do on the weekend so you can have clean socks?"

Or the follow-up:

 "If an hour and a half before dinner Mommy prints out a recipe that requires an hour and a half to cook, but then lays it down and can't find it for 20 minutes, how late will dinner be?"

In our study of China, we made paper fans out of construction paper:

Paper fans -- fun and functional!

  

And we made Asian-themed meals and practiced using chopsticks:

This is not a specifically Asian meal, and I’m not sure boiled 

eggs were the easiest meal for chopstick 

practice, but my son was determined!

My youngest, who was the hardest-hit by sickness, even found room for four-year-old humor:

Her, waving her hand in front of her nose: "When I'm sick, I don't like the smell of tomatoes."
Me: "I don't know what to say to that."
DD4, giggling: "But chopsticks, when they're sick, they like the smell of tomatoes."

And I still don't know what to say. I guess the chopsticks can eat the pasta fagioli:

Pasta fagioli and crusty bread fresh from the oven, comfort food when the family is sick.

And that’s what we’ve been up to. Drop me a comment and let me know how your January is going.

Handsome Is as Handsome Does

When you’re six, the world can be a big, scary, incomprehensible place. I often watch my own six-year-old as he tries to navigate the world around him, torn between his desire to be a “big boy” and his fear of change. Also, since he has a few difficult character traits that don’t necessarily endear him to others—just ask his sisters—his path is often thornier than not. So I tend to want to hold him to me and shield him with a fierce sense of compassion. That is, until the moment when I’m caught off guard by an act of utter audacity and, for lack of a better word, cockiness.

We recently took our son for a doctor’s appointment. I normally let my children meander through their morning routines and get dressed at a relaxed pace. This morning, however, my son slept in and I needed to move things along for our mid-morning appointment. 

“Go get dressed,” I said as I handed him his clothes. I surveyed his hair, which was in need of a cut and standing on end, making him look like a shocked porcupine. I added, “Then I’ll help you with your hair.”

“I can do it,” he said, grabbing the brush and detangler on his way by. “You can’t wait to see me all handsome.”

He doesn't like crowds, but he's a born ladies' man.

To do him justice, he did a good job on his hair, and we were out the door in record time. The local clinic where we had an appointment serves as a learning clinic where medical students can experience a rural rotation during their studies. So, it wasn’t surprising when a med student got first crack at us before we saw the doctor. I dare say, though, she may not have been expecting us.

She managed to remain polite and professional through most of our oddities—a whole family of five attending an appointment AND homeschoolers. Egad! —but then she said she would go in a moment and get the doctor.

“Is the doctor a boy?” asked my son.

“Yes, he is,” she replied, then made a logical assumption. “Would you be more comfortable with a boy?”

“No,” he replied nonchalantly. “I’d like another beautiful girl like you.”

Our previously poised med student became flustered like a high school girl who had just caught the notice of the starting quarterback. She eventually regained her composure, and before leaving to get the doctor, turned at the door to ask if we had any questions. As we shook our heads, our son got in one last shot.

“Bring another beautiful girl!”