Montessori, Again

The Montessori approach is very "adult" in my perspective

That's a great thing most of the time:  empowers the kids, meets them where they are academically, socially, and emotionally, teaches them real life skills along with a unique way of looking at building blocks for future academics.

R's teacher is a die hard.  She's all in all the time all Montessori.

Very into helping the kids learn social graces... how  to greet adults, make conversation, be kind, shake hands, etc.

It's funny to get a glimpse of the three year old view of it.

Like this evening: Ms. D rotates who they have lunch with so each child learns how to be kind to all and make new friends.

So R, he tells us all about his new lunch "ompanion"

I mean what three year old uses the word companion?

I love it.

That's just a snapshot-- the phrases he has are so very... adult.  And gracious.  And 90% of the time are ridiculous to hear from a three year old.  Love it too.

That's my little buddy.  Growing up so fast.

It Makes a Mama Proud

It makes a Mama proud when Robbie comes home from school talking about Rosie the Riveter!

"We can do it!"

Song Stylings

Not to be outdone by her brother, Anna Helen has some song stylings for you this evening.

 

To quote Shawn:  "What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in enthusiasm"

Frayed Ends

Remember how awesome and chill and sunny our kids were?

How everyone commented on how FRIENDLY and FUN that they are?

The Robbie just goes with the flow... hangs with whatever you need?

And Annie follows all the spice with sweetness?

Ya'll?

We lied.

We are in the throes of oh-my-goodness-my-kid-is-being-a-total-ahole life right now. 

Clearly... hopefully... it is temporary.

I blame the weather?  The going on 3.5 weeks of being stuck inside?

I'm sure there are other things to blame.  The having of another child?  The inconsistency in the schedules?  The weekends that have been over planned.

We're in full on,  1-2-3, timeout, school acting out, bedtime hot mess time here.

So you, kind stranger, pulling my child off the stage at the music performance?  Again?  With the "natural performer" comment? 

It felt like a well meaning dagger.

And ye, wailing two year old, on hour three of protesting the sleep you desperately need?  I'm not coming in there.

I don't have blogging time because I'm, three hours into bedtime, still doing bedroom laps.

And for real.  Stop taking off your pull up. And pooping the floor.

Spring (or sanity, whichever comes first).  Where the heck are you?

Seriously.

The smiles.  They are lethal.

Don't trust them.

Taking on

I have four months worst of posts and thoughts and catching up to do.  Maybe my Lenten adventure needs to be to make 10 minutes a few times a week to write this blog.

To catch up on the months.

Where we've been and where we are.

And to discuss being pregnant after infertility.

Without treatments.

Because there we are.

I think I've been waiting for the reality of it to settle in... and the reality is that I'm not settled with it.

I'm used to not being able to get pregnant.

And here I am.  And I haven't processed it.  17 weeks later I haven't processed it.

I'm dwelling in the fears still-- about money, stress, working Momness, and just not knowing how we are going to do it.

And I'm in the guilt.  Still very much in the guilt.

So there I am. Pregnant.  Again.  Unexpectedly.

Gratefully.

But unexpectedly.

Help me process this one.  We've got until July.