...When the Ants Go Marching

First butterflies, then ants.  Onto the next page!  I quickly skip over the lice section.  Ew.  That tick looks gross.  I skip that page, too.  Now beetles, then dragonflies.

Taking full advantage of the California "drizzle"

Lately, my kids have been obsessed with an insect encyclopedia.  I've learned quite a bit about bugs.  Did you know that the "real" name for daddy long legs is "harvestmen?"  I didn't.  Did you know that I'm not allowed to like the morpho butterfly because the picture is a male?  Neither did I.  Miri taught me that fact.  Apparently, we only like females.  My kids seem to be the most obsessed with the ant page.  Over and over again we read about fire ants.  It's always amazing how the minds of little children are like sponges.

"Fire ants eat flowers.  And fruit," informs Miriam.
"When fire ants bite you, it stings!  So I smash them with my SUPER CAPE!" Noah emphasizes.  He also chases flies around the house donned with a broom and his super cape.

This month, our family has been bugged.  Every day, I wake up, armed with a can of Raid (or its friendlier counterpart, Orange Guard), to hunt down a few armies.  On any given day, we will find ants in about three rooms of our house.  Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom -- you name it.  We can't escape it.  I guess it comes with the hot and dry territory.  I'm just a little exasperated.  It's either time I learn to coexist with these bugs, or cough up the cash to hire an exterminator.

Augustine's Baptism, 8.17.2014

 

 

 

A few weeks ago, we were blessed to baptize Augustine Gregory and welcome him into the Catholic Church!  The sacrament was especially memorable, because Gus was baptized alongside his little cousin, Gianna.  Our wonderful celebration came to a tearful end as Miriam was attacked by hornets!  I think we ended up counting five stings.  After the initial pain and fright of it all, she was a real trooper.  "But what is the difference between hornets and bees?  Why did they attack me?  Did you used to get stung when you were little?"  Luckily, Tot shared an interesting story about working as an exterior painter and getting stung more times than he could keep track of.  I, on the other hand, used the situation as a vocabulary lesson and taught her the word "aggressive."  We then looked up her perpetrator in the Insect Encyclopedia.  Its limited options led us to label it as a yellow jacket wasp.

Brothers

 

In addition to the constant battling of ants, there are so many things that have been bugging me lately: the constant fighting and yelling, the relinquishing of the sacred nap time; the onslaught of doctor appointments.  Bed time never comes soon enough.

As is the way of irony, one evening after the kids had been all tucked in bed, I notice a big bug on the ceiling of the living room.  Luckily, I have a husband who is my Spider Hunter, and literally hunts down black widows and brown widows on a weekly basis (another reason why we need an exterminator).  He quickly encourages me not to fear! -- it is a butterfly you see!  A butterfly?  On our ceiling?  At ten o'clock at night?  Thank you, kind husband! -- now please get it outside!

The dynamic duo

He excitedly runs into the bedroom to rouse our children.  "Wake up!  Wake up!"  Reaching into the closet: "We're going to catch a butterfly with the nets from Elefun!"  So, together, we watch Tot catch a butterfly from our ceiling with a play net.  Then, we get out the flash lights to watch the butterfly escape into the dark night (and probably get eaten by a bat).  Nick grins at me, "This is what Tots are for!"

I can shoo away those bothersome things at the day's end.  It's those better memories that crawl into your heart.  Like when Miriam asks Noah to "marry" her so that they can "dress up fancy."  Or when Noah was thrilled to get his first set of army men, exclaiming, "This guy has a gun!  This guy has a gun, too!...WOAH -- all these guys have skateboards!"  And when the morning after Gus's baptism, I find his bassinet laden with all his gifts that his siblings so kindly opened for him.

It's the butterfly nights we remember.

He's always smiling

*In case you want a bug book for your toddlers, this one is actually pretty great!

...When You Don't Know Who You Are

I'm having an identity crisis!  All day, every day, this is what I hear:


"Mommy, I'm Tinkerbell.  You are Captain Hook."
"Mommy, I'm Elsa.  You be Anna."  (I have yet to have the privilege of being Elsa).
"Mommy, I'm Harmony.  You are Tender Heart Bear."
"Mommy!  I Batman!  You be Blue Beetle!"  (I still don't even know who Blue Beetle is).

Here in the Hnatiuk home, we are in a relentless world of make-believe.  From one hour to the next, I cannot remember who I am.  I used to think it was pretty cool when I got to be the "step mother" figure.  This way, I could occasionally get the "princess" to do something I wanted her to do.  A few days ago, however, my daughter taught me the arguably best role-play ever.  EVER.  (How come no one in the mommy world filled me in on this one)?  In case you haven't learned the secret, here it is: Let your child be the control figure and YOU be the measly Insignificant.  Go all out.  Set him/her up with a crown, a throne, a scepter.  You will receive chore after chore, task after task.  And before you can snap your fingers Mary Poppins style, you will have cleaned half the house!

I recently read The Awakening by Kate Chopin.  The protagonist expresses her point of view, arguing, "I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself..."  What is the difference between sacrificing your life for your children and sacrificing your self?  I am not going to dissect this literary quote, but I will say this: as a stay-at-home mom, you need to make a conscious effort to keep yourself intact.  There are mothers I know who have put forth valiant efforts to do so.  A.D. once encouraged a small group of moms to do weekly guided journaling, exploring questions such as, "What interests did I pursue prior to having children?"  Though I never find the time to journal, I still reflect on these questions of personal exploration. 

I suppose my identity bleeds through in our make believe sessions.  Pretending to be Captain Hook, I am reminded that I am often the "bad guy."  When I'm Princess Anna, I remember that I, too, like to shove chocolate in my face.  Being Tender Heart is pretty cool, because I like to be the leader.  (R.M. can attest to that)!  Lastly, Blue Beetle reminds me that I... still need to figure out who the heck that is.


Her identity crisis
July 2014

His identity crisis
July 2014



The baby's crisis
July 2014

It's nice to rediscover the elements of my identity that have fallen out of reach.  I have a few mini escapes that offer me a foothold to my self.  For instance, I got to teach a mini lesson in C.D.'s classroom; I get to moderate a super cool book club (we'll be celebrating our third anniversary this October!); I get to beat my husband in Hive... but keep losing to him in Galaxy Trucker.  These were my pre-children interests, and it's invigorating to still take part in them.  It's truly thrilling, though, to have your daughter ask you to play "teacher," to see your kids light up at the mention of going to the library, and to witness sibling rivalries emerge over games like Elefun.

My awakening occurs at any hour during the night by three little people who need me to be "Mommy."  So let my prayer during this season be, Lord, give me the endurance I need to minister to these little souls you have entrusted to me.  Like Samuel, help me respond to Your calling for me.

 

 

 

This sweet baby hangs out all day.

 

 

 


Noah turned two!