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 Member » scribbit
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scribbit has no compliments, be friendly and send one.
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Poor scribbit has no gifts, brighten up their day with a present.
To understand the Mitchell family. First--we are Alaskan. That may not mean much to anyone living in what Alaskans often refer to as the "Lower Forty-Eight," a label which incidentally really annoyed my husband, Andrew, a Colorado transplant. He said it goes beyond smug ("Does that mean Alaska is the Upper One??") and had his own private boycott of the phrase until he felt sufficiently moved in and at home to use it himself and could then feel smug right along with the rest of us, I think it was probably that first winter he went without washing his car the whole six months that did it.
Second--we have kids. Quite a few, I think four at last count ranging in ages from 12 (our daughter Grace) down to Lillian at a fresh and exciting four years. Grace is all-girl and is presently into musicals. You know, like My Fair Lady, The Music Man, The Sound of Music. She goes around whistling songs like "Marion the Librarian" which has provoked mockery from the less-cultured in the household. I caught Andrew singing his version, something about "Bernie the Attorney."
Lillian, being the youngest is of course rather spoiled but no one seems to care yet. Her latest thing is to go around the house with her legs bound together with rubber bands, hopping. Everywhere she goes it's hop, hop, hop (trip) hop, hop, hop. Her likes? Noodles and the front yard. Her dislikes? Cheese and the backyard (it has a child-proof fence).
There are a couple of boys in between, Spencer and David, which I've determined are God's reminder to us never to let our insurance lapse. I think the latest incident involved homemade water balloons courtesy a 300 box of Glad sandwich bags. But if there's no skin grafts involved, then it's ... |
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When our oldest was a toddler she loved being outside all year round but the cold North Dakota winters made it tough. To make an economical toboggan,
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Occasionally I wonder if I will run out of writing material as my children grow (and by assumption mature). There are so many great stories from when they were younger that I doubt the teenage years could be so literarily fruitful. Here's an example:
From my journal dated April 18, 2005, Lillian was 2, David 6 and Spencer 8:
On Saturday after our week’s worth of spring cleaning I told the kids I'd take them to the library. All of us, including Andrew, went and after collecting new books on the main floor we had to take the elevator to access the fourth floor where the movies and CDs are kept.
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It's tradition that at our Annual Enormous Family Christmas party we have a Chinese auction (or is the correct term now Asian-American auction?) where each of the 20-plus adults brings a white elephant gift, otherwise known as a gently used, no-longer-needed item from home.
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When your only meals together are Thanksgiving and Christmas, when the stress of the holidays has taken a toll and you feel as if you're playing Tag Team Parenting it might be time for a Family Night where everything else get puts on hold for some R & R. Here are a few ideas to get you started:
1. Family Olympics
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