Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

 I'm thinking about adding advertisers to my blog.  The pop-ups are super annoying though, so I haven't pulled the trigger.  I thought I might earn an extra twelve to fifteen cents a month if I did that, and I'm trying to save up for a family milk cow.   Ross says under no circumstances are we getting a family milk cow.  Which I interpreted as  under most circumstances.  I'm pretty sure there are a few circumstances that would allow it.  I'm working on discovering those, but first I need some financial backing.  I'm also considering a go-fund-me, a Kickstarter fund, or a cow share.  Those things sound hard though.   Unlike owning a cow.   Never mind that I know nothing about owning a cow - I'm listening to podcasts.  I've already picked out my miniature jersey.  We just need to build a shelter.  And some fencing.  A way to get water to her and her baby.  Somewhere to put feed.  Someplace to milk her.  Someway to store and use the milk... I'm really n

I used to think I had started to hone my parenting skills.  Fischer was a much more mellow toddler than Sawyer, and I credited Ross and myself having the experience of one child under our belts.  It turns out, I was wrong.  Fischer was just a more mellow toddler .  That, or we have substantially regressed in our skills since having the twins.  It could be that. They are terrorists.   Nobody and nothing is off limits.   Our walls are covered in crayon and pencil.  Our new kitchen table has been branded with marker.  There is crayon on the windows.  My cupboards and drawers are empty.  My counter tops are full. They have figured out how to climb up on the table, and how to climb onto the windowsill and over the back of the couch, how to climb out of their cribs, and how to climb out of their clothes!       Our boys did not do these things.   I wasn't prepared.   I thought we had a plan - a system.  These girls would fall in line.   I misjudged them.   I've misjudged other parents

 Can we just not let them grow-up for a little bit longer?  I know that eventually, our kids are going to be introduced to all of the sin our temporary world has to offer, but can we wait?  Can we just let them be little?  Let them be innocent?   "Mom, did you know God has the whole world in his hands?" asked our middle child. "Yes!" I replied. "So we're stepping on Him right now?" Hmmm, I think I need to explain that better. "Mom?" The same child asked a little later, "Is the girl elf with Santa really the Easter Bunny?" "Um, nope.  That's a...that's a really interesting question." "How does he get his reindeer to fly?" "Magic." "Where does his magic come from?" These questions are getting hard.   "Look!  I think I see a deer in the yard.  Do you want a snack?" Crisis averted.   "Mom, I can't wait for Dad to get the presents I circled for him in this catalogue,"

In seven years, I've been asked never times for parenting advice, so I thought I'd go ahead and offer some here.  This comes to you at no charge.  Unless you feel an overwhelming gratitude for my astute insight by the end, in which case, I take cash.  I can feel your anticipation mounting, so I'll get right to it.   Have your baby, and then get some friends.  For real.  This is the easiest time, besides elementary school, to make friends, and you're going to need them.  Take your baby to the nearest library, or church or playground, and find someone who has a kid close to the same age as yours.  You have an immediate talking point, and start friend-dating them to see if they are a good fit.  Next find a person with a kid slightly older than yours, and friend-date them.  Or join a mom's group, that works well too.  But get some friends.   Once you have your friends, tell them when you're struggling.  Chances are, they are too.  It's easy to think you're

 In middle school, I had my first glimpse of self-awareness.  It was only a glimpse because I still rocked the Little House on the Prairie dress ( Target would be proud ), but it was notable.  I talked too much, and I knew it.  My parents will tell you I was a talker from an early age.  They had to give me talking time-outs so their ears could catch a break.  (Our kids come by it honestly.)  It never occurred to me that it was a problem, however, until middle school.   In middle school I realized my chattiness was kind of annoying.  I also began to realize it was not endearing me to my friends' parents or my teachers.  But I had a problem - I had things to say , and I couldn't seem to stop myself from saying them.   I'd pray that God would help me not to talk.  He was either trying to teach me self-control or the people in my life patience because I never got laryngitis or the Ariel complex . I was mildly better at listening more and talking less by high school.  But recen