turtles and the 45 minute hour

So you may be wondering how I get anything done with six kids. Most days I get to the end of my day and can see all the stuff I HAVEN'T done... without giving myself credit for the myriad of things I do get done.

It is a wonderful season in my life, even if I can't remember if I've brushed my teeth or not.

In the midst of trying to balance the big kids with a new curriculum (that we are really enjoying), the sisters who want to "do school", a potty training toddler who wants a movie (which bring everything to a stop because they all want to watch whatever movie the 2 yr old picks) and a nursing baby that wants to be held - much less the regular cooking and cleaning... I had an idea.

I know, I know, it's not very often that I have a complete thought these days. This one popped into my head in the 27 seconds I was in the bathroom...

The 45 minute hour. Stay with me here. What if we do school for 45 minutes? Then I let them play for 15 minutes...while I do some kind of mommy thing?

The big kids get a break, the little sisters get to play with the big kids, and I get to finish cleaning up breakfast, start a load of laundry, check my email, regroup for the next chunk of school or brush my teeth...

The other brilliant part of my plan involves the Kindergarten class. I have figured out that I cannot do school with both at the same time... just doesn't work. So while I am with one sister, the other sister has a job - play with Amanda. Then they switch. So far so good. This idea is a keeper!!!

And here we are making the life cycle of turtles with clay
- part of Jacob's science for the day.

This one doesn't work...

Many of my kids have gone through a stage where they line everything up: hot wheels, plastic frogs, shoes, crayons, blocks, pans, silverware, bath toys - you get the picture.

Amanda is no different. She likes to color and Jacob's new box of 48 colors give her lots of crayons to lay out in a neat little row. She colors with one crayon then puts it in the box and picks up the next one.

But the other day she told me "this one doesn't work". I just smiled and kept going. On another day, she told me the same thing. The third time she said it, I laughed inside.

Today, she did it again. She took out all the crayons, lined them up on the little brown table, colored with each crayon before sticking it in the box and moving on to the next one.

Then I saw it on the couch. All alone and probably never to make it back to see her friends again or the box she once called home. There on the couch was "the crayon that doesn't work".

The white one.