We’ve had a string of good days lately. It’s probably due to a combination of factors—we’re recovered from all the travel we did in January and February, no one is sick, everyone is sleeping better—but I think the biggest factor is that we’ve gotten back into a routine.

I know that I function better when life is somewhat predictable, and I know that my kids do too. For some reason I have a really hard time sticking to a routine, even under ideal circumstances; throw a baby and frequent travel and a husband regularly working long hours into the mix and all is confusion and chaos and lost tempers and pouting and hands thrown up in defeat.

A few weeks ago I stumbled across some reading and math workbooks that looked like a good fit for Annalie. I had Annalie look them over, and she thought they looked good too. We talked, and agreed that we were going to start out by doing one lesson per day from each book. That’s not very much, considering that last year before Elliora was born we were consistently doing two to three hours of sit-down schoolwork per day, but I figured it would be a good way to ease back into things.

At first, Annalie resisted every suggestion that it was time to do some schoolwork, but I stayed calm and persisted. She thought it was pretty cool when I told her that she could take a pre-test before each math chapter, and if there were concepts she already had a grasp on, we could skip some of those lessons. Within a couple days, she had stopped arguing and was doing the work with no complaint. Now, she actually seems excited to sit down and do school. (Of course, this is in addition to all of the unschooly things we do every day, but it seemed like it was time to re-introduce some discipline back into our days, for both of us.)

Today, she suggested that instead of doing the one page of reading in the workbook, she could read the Magic School Bus book that my mom had just sent her. I told her that was a great idea. She read every single word in that book to me, without hesitation or angst. We paused several times to discuss additional information she’d gleaned about the subject (teeth) from Wild Kratts (you might want to turn your volume down before clicking that link). The reading moved from the dining-room table to Elliora’s bedroom briefly when there was a diaper change, and Annalie didn’t even blink, just moved, made herself comfortable in the nursing chair, and kept reading.

Something seems to have clicked for Annalie with both reading and math recently. She’s had the skills for a long time, but it was almost as if she wasn’t emotionally ready to read on her own. Now, she’s suddenly doing multiplication and adding two-column numbers in her head with ease. She’s reading pretty much everything she sees without much difficulty at all. She still isn’t what I’d call a reader, which makes me a little sad, but that’s okay. I imagine that there are a lot of people who would shake their heads at all the hours I spent indoors reading books as a kid when I could have been outside enjoying fresh air and sunshine.

I think when she’s ready, Annalie will discover chapter books and how reading them is like seeing a movie in your head. (Also, she’ll discover the house rule that kids have to turn off the light at bedtime…unless they’re reading. That’ll probably motivate her to read more!) Until then, there isn’t really a reason to rush. One of the best things about homeschooling is that kids have the freedom to move at their own pace. And I’ve been doing this long enough now that I know Annalie really will move ahead. She doesn’t really do slow and steady. Just when it seems like she’s been stalled in the same place forever, she’ll leap and bound far ahead of where I would have expected her to be. And that’s absolutely, totally okay.

In addition to the ease with which we’ve been getting schoolwork done every day, Annalie has gone from surly and uncooperative to pleasant and helpful when it comes to unloading the dishwasher, playing with Elliora while I make dinner, putting her toys away, running downstairs to fetch me a Coke Zero, whatever. I suppose her change in attitude is partly because she’s consistently getting more sleep, and partly because she’s not seven and a half anymore (she’ll be eight in two months). But mostly, I think it’s because we’ve gotten a good routine going.

Annalie knows that when she wakes up, she can play games on my laptop or watch one of her shows until Elliora and I come out for breakfast. She knows that after breakfast, she can play till 8:45, when I’ll ask her to unload the dishwasher if it needs doing. She knows that after that, we’ll sit down and do some schoolwork until it’s time for Elliora’s morning nap, and so on. And knowing what’s coming next seems to make her happy.

It makes perfect sense, really. I’m the same way. I can handle unpredictability better than she can, probably, but I am a lot happier when I know what’s coming up, even though I resist schedules. That’s why I am writing this post: to remind myself, when I start to slide away from the routine, that it really does make things easier. And if we have a routine, then we get to experience the best part about living a predictable life: doing something unpredictable! Being spontaneous is about a hundred times more fun when you have a routine to break away from.

We very much enjoyed the long weekend last week. Did you? We didn’t do anything special, just relaxed, tried to catch up on housework and errands, all that stuff. Then on Tuesday, Troy turned 42. His birthday was rather meh, since he had to work late (as usual) and we didn’t get to have a birthday dinner. I made coffee cake in mugs, at his request, and we ate those while he opened a few presents after he got home from work. Then we did baths and put the girls to bed. Not exciting, but not a bad day.

Thursday afternoon, we had the house cleaned which was utterly wonderful. We decided it’s worth it to us to pay for a professional housecleaning about once a month. It makes such a difference and is worth every penny, and every movie we don’t see in a theater and every coffee we don’t buy at Starbucks.

Thursday evening, we picked up our friend Rebekah and her kids at the airport. They were flying back from visiting family, and since one of the kids had an appointment with her eye doctor just up the road from us (they live in the same small Southern Maryland town we used to live in, which often means going to D.C. for specialists) they stayed the night at our house! Bek said she couldn’t believe it took them two years before they finally got to stay the night with us. We’ve tried several times before but illness or weather or something always messed with our plans. Annalie was over the moon to have her friends stay the night.

Friday morning we enjoyed our friends’ company. The kids took advantage of the mild weather and played outside. After lunch Bekah and her kids headed home. Since it was raining, and I was in a good mood and Annalie was a little sad to say good-bye to her friends, we stopped at the bakery for cookies. That evening, it took Troy almost two hours to get home from work thanks to horrible traffic. I spent those two hours feeding the kids and getting them ready for bed, silently reciting to myself the list of reasons I am thankful that we aren’t leaving D.C. till August. If I remind myself often enough, think I’ll start to believe it?

I think I mentioned before that Elliora’s sleep habits had become atrocious since we were in Omaha. She was teething something fierce when we first got there, and being in a different place and a different bed was not okay with her. She spent about an hour or two in the middle of the night EVERY SINGLE NIGHT we were in Omaha and Texas, all 25 nights, letting us know how upset she was about it all. It was stressful and exhausting and it got so I dreaded nighttime. In Texas things were a little better because Troy was there to help out, but she was still awake and mad in the middle of the night. It suuuuuucked.

We thought things would improve sleep-wise when we got home, but they didn’t, not really. And nothing we tried helped—not back-patting, not singing, not cuddling, not nursing, not sitting in the room with her. After a few nights, we realized we were going to have to leave the room and let her cry. When she woke up in the middle of the night, we checked on her and reassured her and then gritted our teeth and left her alone. We’d go in and check on her every few minutes, but only stay a minute or two and then leave again. The first night, she cried for about an hour before going back to sleep. The second night it took about a half-hour. Every night since then, if she’s awakened, she’s gone back to sleep within a few minutes.

I’ll be honest: it’s a relief that she’s not up crying for hours anymore. I still hate listening to her cry knowing she’s in the room by herself, even for a few minutes, even though her crying is clearly pissed-off, not scared. For heaven’s sake, when we ask Elliora to pick up her applesauce pouch and take it to the trash can in the kitchen and throw it away, she does it. If she can follow three-step directions, I know that she understands us when we tell her that it’s nighttime, time to lie down, time to close her eyes and go to sleep. She’s 15 months old, not 15 weeks. Knowing all of that still doesn’t make the crying any easier to listen to, but I’ll live. It’s easier to live with guilt when you’re well-rested, apparently.

Free pattern for crocheted golden snitches. Thanks, Deborah!

You know that whole do what you love philosophy that I talk about from time to time? Apparently right now I love crocheting and cooking meals and taking photos and watching Downton Abbey with Troy more than I love blogging. I do miss blogging, though. I write posts in my head all the time. I look forward to having the time to actually type those posts out again someday, and then actually edit and Flickr photos on the same day I take them so they’re not three weeks old by the time I post them. Sigh.

How did it get to be almost March already? How is 2012 treating you all so far?

We’ve never been big on Valentine’s Day around our house. I’ve always told Troy that I’d rather he buy me a $10 bouquet of flowers on any random day of the year than spend $50 on roses on Valentine’s Day. Restaurants are too crowded on the 14th, and all the good candy is half-off on the 15th.

Then last night Troy came home with the news that he was going to have to stay late at work tonight because of a meeting his bosses are having. He doesn’t have to go to the meeting, mind you; he just has to sit around waiting for it to be done just in case they need him to do something after it’s over. That’s pretty typical of his job right now. We don’t love that aspect of our life, but we’re used to it, sadly. And at least we knew ahead of time that he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner, so we were able to eat at one of our favorite restaurants last night with the girls and call it an early Valentine’s Day dinner.

Today, Annalie and I made PB&J Valentine Cookies (while Elliora looked cute in her too-big apron and begged chocolate chips) and they are delicious. Later I might try making some Compost Cookies (despite the gross name, the recipe sounds delicious), and after the girls are in bed Troy and I will have a late supper of spicy California rolls and roasted asparagus and Annika‘s baguette drizzled with olive oil, topped with dark chocolate and coarse sea salt, oven-toasted. We’ll probably watch the second half of the BBC production of Sense and Sensibility that features Dan Stevens (the actor who plays Matthew Crawley on Downton Abbey!) as Edward Ferrars. Not a bad night, Valentine’s Day or no.

I’ve been a little blue lately, thinking about how we were supposed to be moving back to San Diego right now, until our move got pushed back six months. Although we do like being close to some of our friends and family here, and we enjoy taking advantage of the great museums and monuments in D.C., we don’t love living on the East Coast. It’s far away from most of our family and friends, and we just plain like San Diego and are eager to live there again.

The biggest reason we’re ready to leave is the long hours Troy has been spending at his job. We knew when we moved here that it wasn’t going to be a cushy shore job, that there would be periods of time when he’d be working late many nights in a row. And the first year we lived here, that’s what it was: periods of time, with long breaks in between where he was home in time for dinner and for a couple hours before Annalie’s bedtime nearly every day.

For the past year that is not how it’s been. Troy has been working long hours, just barely getting home in time to tuck Annalie in around 8pm most nights. Family dinners are a rare occurrence. We’re all burned out and ready to be done with this phase of our lives.

But the fact is, we need to hang in there for another six months. We have reason to hope that the long hours will taper off this summer and things will go back to a more normal schedule. In the meantime, we’re trying to think positive. Being here another six months means we have that much longer to visit our local(ish) friends and family. We have the spring and summer to enjoy the Smithsonian and national monuments. And we have a little more time for visitors, which we always love. And it could be worse; Troy could be deployed on a ship and gone completely for the next six months. So there are many reasons to look on the bright side.

Huh. Not sure how this post turned into a rant. Then again, pretty much everything I say these days comes around to this topic of how much I am over Troy’s long hours and how tired we all are and how ready we are to move on. I’m a broken record, a boring broken record. I even annoy myself.

I’ll focus on the good things instead. Like Elliora’s enthusiasm for eating a whole peeled apple, or Annalie eating—and liking!—pasta with eggplant, or the vanilla sea salt caramels Troy brought home for me.

Happy Valentine’s Day from all of us to all of you!