the story of a tree

Two years ago, we were scrambling to get back in our house after 6 weeks of impromptu displacement, thanks to the discovery (and inconvenience) of lead-painted wood flooring layers beneath our wall-to-wall carpet. Due to the all-around scramble of moving back in, cleaning up sheetrock dust that seemed to appear out of nowhere every single day, wrapping gifts and doing last-minute shopping, we opted to just get a small one (honestly? I had wondered if we should skip it altogether, but fortunately for my kids, Daniel is always up for anything and was willing to do some high-and-low searching for a tree the week before Christmas).

It was such a quaint and special tree.
It was so easy.
In fact, it was so simple and pretty that we decided to go with a small tree again last year.

But we promised the kids that this year? This year we would get one that would reach to the ceiling.
We kept our promise and the sparkle of awe in their eyes has been worth every bit of extra hassle.

Arriving at the tree farm with great expectation

Measuring to make sure we filled up every inch of space that we could

Enduring cold noses and numb toes for the joy set before us

We found it!

Pausing for nourishment (or, at least, food) at the local diner before we move on

Bringing the beauty in

I'm pretty sure carrying a 10' tall tree from the top of the suburban and into the living room when you're 5'10" isn't as easy as he made it look

Lights!

Ornaments!

And, finally, the star!

The End.

 

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving 2012 dawned clear and bright and early and with great excitement around our little yellow house. We do love holidays, after all!

Little girls excited about what clothes they would wear, boys eagerly packing "football gear" for a highly anticipated family turkey bowl, me relishing the joys of a day set before me with no agenda beyond being.

Breakfast was enjoyed in lovely morning sunlight. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was watched while I soaked, trimmed, and painted 3 sets of little girl nails and a little babe napped. Baskets were filled with pies and breads and dip, jackets were hurriedly thrown on, and we were off!

A short jaunt down to my older sister's home for our first ever Thanksgiving celebration there.

From that point on, the day was just the kind of day I love: foosball and ping pong ball and pool, girls snuggled in a guest room bed watching Little Bear, gourmet cheese and crunchy apples and cranberry bread and coffee, candles and pretty china and Pilgrim place cards, pregnant sisters and far-away sister and little people everywhere, football outside and football on TV, mounds and mounds of all the best traditional foods, singing and laughing and playing games around the kitchen table.

At one point I looked around the room, full of many of the people who are nearest and dearest to my heart, and I felt so rich just to be able to know them all, let alone call them family.

This year:

I'm thankful for plenty.
I'm thankful for forgiveness for me.
I'm thankful for freedom to forgive others.
I'm thankful for lovely things.
I'm thankful for how He uses even hard things.
I'm thankful for His love.
I'm thankful for His plan.
I'm thankful for relationship with others, made possible because of relationship with Him.

I'm thankful for days like today, a pause in the routines and demands of regular life and activity; a chance to stop and truly take stock. He goes above and beyond, over and over and over again, in loving and relentless pursuit of my heart and devotion.

These are the gifts, He is the Giver.

May I never love what I receive more than I love the One from whom I am receiving.

 

Regrouping

Do you ever have that sensation that life is the dog and you are its tail?

Yeah.

Among many things I want to be doing that I haven't had time for of late is writing in this little space. I've got to say, I miss the pause that blogging seems to help me find. Whether anyone reads or not matters little to me; whether what's written is near and dear to my heart or just a mentioning of the details that make up my days is irrelevant; what means the most to me is simply the taking a little time to process.

I suppose for some people a lack of writing means an abundance of living. In my case, a lack of writing probably just means that my life is a bit out of control.

This school year has taken me for quite a ride. Don't get me wrong: I love each and every day of homeschooling my children. It's just that this year I have to say I'm not always feeling entirely on top of it!

And of course there are some moments I'd rather erase ("What number is this, Aubrey? You don't know? Try counting up to it, okay? Huh. You've got nothing? Well, it's seventeen. Okay? Okay. Now tell me, what number is this? You forgot? Already? That's okay, honey. It's seventeen. Got it? So tell me, what number is this? You forgot? Again? OHMYWORDIMGOINGTOLOSEMYMIND!").

But 99.9% of the time there is nothing I'd rather be doing and nowhere I'd rather be. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

I love my kids.
I like my kids.
They are my favorite people to spend time with.
Having a front row seat to all that they're learning and experiencing is worth every sacrifice and all the effort.

I'm having to readjust some priorities and figure out some new strategies. What worked last year isn't necessarily working this year. And, yes, I've been a bit slow in figuring out what does work.

It sure does all make me so thankful that the Holy Spirit is a present help. There are many days I've had to completely scrap everything I had planned to do what is needed. What a tough lesson for the slightly OCD, everything-must-fit-in-a-box, planner I naturally tend to be! And how good it is for me to get a grip and be flexible.

Prayerfully, I'm coming back to a more centered rhythm. Not because everything fits in a box now or because it's so controlled, but because I'm learning that what's needed really is what's worthwhile.

And in the meantime, to make up for months of no writing (apart from an occasional birthday shout-out to one of my precious kids-- no matter how busy things get I can't let those go because it's the closest thing they'll ever have to a baby book!), here's our fall in some pictures:

clockwise from L:
Bronwyn preparing a report on 1912 fashion on the Titanic; the 4 school kids bright and early on the first day of Friday School; Aubrey proudly holding her rendering of the Titanic while dressed as a first class passenger on our display night; building a model of the Titanic with Daddy; Claire, Gabriel, Aubrey, Bronwyn, and Jack on a field trip in the foothills of the Adirondacks

Elliot, Elliot, Elliot!
This boy makes me laugh, he makes me cry, he makes me want to pull out my hair, he delights me continually. He's seven months old, has three teeth (and a fourth on the way), is the most proficient "army crawler" I've had yet, moves from sitting to "crawling" and back freely, loves to "wrestle" and growl, nurses exclusively, is in love with his daddy, and has quite an aggressive personality.

We love food around here.
Cooking with new-to-us foods thanks to a Community Shared Agriculture program has been great fun.
Preserving food is something we all got in on this year in a greater way than previous years, and the fruits of our labor are very tangible ones: a cupboard filled to the brim with jars of strawberry jam, tomato juice, and applesauce, a chest freezer filled with locally grown meat and raspberries from our own bushes, and 100lbs of potatoes that I purchased from a nearby Amish woman cured and stored in the basement for the winter ahead.
On a daily basis, the kids love to help me cook dinner and will watch cooking shows with great delight. The beauty of a fresh lemon takes our breath away and we get downright giddy about cake!

   

I love making home.
I'm so thankful to have grown up in a home where we didn't just save the pretty napkins for company, where a simple meal of oatmeal was deemed worthy of candlelight and good conversation, where our bedrooms were well organized and our clothing thoughtfully purchased, where I was taught how to clean a bathroom and dust mop in the farthest corner. It's a privilege and an honor to now get to invest all of that into others.
Not to mention, Daniel and I do both love a good project, and we have found over the years that some of our best conversations and funniest shared moments are over a can of paint and while covered with saw dust!
Hopefully, the external efforts are only outward signs of a deeper investment we're making in our children and community through our home. That's what I pray every single day, anyway.

 

 

Claire-Bear 'Vangeline

 

On Tuesday evening we celebrated our little Claire's third birthday.
(Today is her actual birthday, but tonight is busy, so we partied a few days early.)
Family came over, along with Claire's "Sunday Mom" (as Alexis has come to be known around this house), in honor of the day.
We ate chocolate cupcakes, lit candles, and sang boisterously.

If you know our Claire, you know how easy she is to celebrate.

Claire is so warm. So affectionate. So effortlessly thoughtful. So aware of people.
She loves music and she loves the stage.
(Sure, she's never actually been on the stage, but her little heart most definitely dreams of the day!)

Claire has consistently been used by the Lord, since day one and everyday since then, to bring refreshing and healing to parts of my soul. What a beautiful, humbling thing.

She is an amazing gift-- to all of us: she is Daddy's special helper, her older siblings' delight, her baby brother's biggest fan, Mama's most faithful buddy. We are blessed, blessed, blessed to have this girl in our lives!

 

Celebrating

Today we celebrate Aubrey's birthday.

It was five years ago on a Thursday much like this one that we found out that there was something terribly wrong with our baby girl's heart and she was delivered via emergency caesarian section at 7:00pm. By 8:30pm she was being life-flighted 140 miles south to the nearest neonatal intensive care unit. Daniel was being driven down by a friend while I stayed behind recovering from surgery. Even that day we had no idea the extent of "deformities" that was Aubrey's heart, but we knew enough to be scared.

Very, very scared.

Due to pain killers, the agony of it all didn't really hit me until the next day. It was also almost 24 hours after her birth before we knew more of the extent of the problems: Daniel called to tell me that after running tests the pediatric cardiologists in Syracuse were saying that Aubrey had a very complicated heart and would need a very complicated surgery at a very young age. I was spent, I was feeling very alone and helpless being so far away from all that was taking place, and I was terrified. I remember thinking that I needed to muster up more faith, but the truth is that the only thing I could seem to have faith to pray for was that she would live long enough for me to travel down and see her one more time.

Just one more time, God, I wept.

And I remember even as I cried out that desperate prayer feeling oh so thankful for the Body of Christ, for believers who I knew had more faith for my daughter than I did in those very broken moments.

In the days that followed, there were many tears. Many highs and lows. Many middle-of-the-night terrors. Many words of encouragement, cards, gifts, and visits from friends who drove in from all over to stand with us. Many hours of feeling like I was living some strange nightmare. Many reminders of faith.

And through it all, there was God.

I will bless the Lord at all times;
His praise shall continually be in my mouth.
My soul shall make its boast in the Lord;
The humble shall hear of it and be glad.

There were good reports and there were bad reports. Anyone who has ever been through medical challenges knows that is par for the course. I tried to take it all in stride, but really I just wished there was some way I could trade places with her.

Our little baby.

She had perfect skin, golden peach fuzz hair, big eyes. We named her Aubrey Colette: "noble leader; people of victory."

Why did she have to have a broken heart? And oh! why couldn't I just trade places with her? I wondered.

And my heart broke.

Yet even as I asked questions that had no answer, there was God.

I sought the Lord, and He heard me,
And delivered me from all my fears.
They looked to Him and were radiant,
And their faces were not ashamed.
This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him.
And saved him out of all his troubles.
The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him,
And delivers them.

On October 4th, Aubrey was discharged. She hadn't had surgery and we brought her home without a single machine. Those days were heavy-hearted and wonderful ones all at once. Heavy-hearted because at that point we were still being told that we had a long road ahead of us and that surgery would almost surely be necessary within the next 6 months; wonderful because we were home, no longer torn between our 3 older children and the baby, no longer being separated from Aubrey each night, and having crossed the first hurdle of coming home for at least some time before an operation.

We prayed so much. For a miracle. For time. For growth. For health. For life.

And God was there.

Oh, taste and see that Lord is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!
Oh, fear the Lord, you His saints!
There is no want to those who fear Him.
The young lions lack and suffer hunger;
But those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing.

In the past five years, Aubrey has only had one hospitalization. As of 3 months ago, she is off every medication. Her heart is still jumbled, but it's working. You would never know she isn't the picture of health if you saw her today. Sure, she doesn't run as much as the other kids and sometimes when it's humid she starts to look a bit wan and blue around her lips and extremities, but that's it.

That's it!

If you had told me five years ago that we would be here today, I would have wept and wept and wept with relief and gladness. Today, just thinking of it, I cry tears of joy.

Still, I wouldn't erase one day of what we've gone through because there are great and mighty things the Lord has taught me through it all. And the greatest and mightiest thing is this:

He is here.

The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears.
And delivers them out of all their troubles.
The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart,
And saves such as have a contrite spirit.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous,
But the Lord delivers him out of them all.
He guards all his bones;
Not one of them is broken.

Happy Birthday, Aubrey-girl! You are spunky, spirited, bright, and victorious!

 

Transitions

A couple days ago I claimed part of the yet unfinished guest room as a "nursery nook" for Elliot.

The plan when we broke through the second story of our home more than 14 months ago was to have both of the bedrooms we added (master bedroom and guest room/nursery combo) done by now, but as all projects go, things have taken longer and cost more than even our most conservative planning accounted for.

That's okay. Elliot doesn't know that the walls aren't painted, the baseboard isn't even purchased let alone installed, the window casings aren't in, and the flooring isn't sealed.

When I look at the space we carved out of the mess of wood, tools, and paint supplies that has resided in that empty half-finished room for the better part of a year now, I hardly know all that isn't finished. It's beautiful in its own growing-with-us sort of way.

The final steps in the moving process were to relocate the baby monitor from the window sill near my bed to the dresser in the next-door bedroom and then remove the bedding from the baby basket so that it could be put away in storage.

And I must confess that as I put the sheet and bumper in the washing machine, a big lump formed in my throat.

It's incredibly sad to me to think that he is done sleeping in this little bed of his, right near my own "big bed" (as Claire always refers to it, due to its height) and close enough that when I wake at night I can hear his gentle breathing. At the beginning of his life, he hated this bed and only wanted to be with me; as he has grown, it has become his favorite place to sleep, and he has slept so well in it that we have carried it all the places we may travel or visit in order to allow him this piece of home anywhere he may be.

He is beyond outgrowing it, though. His little feet have pushed his head right past the bumper and into the wicker many times, occasionally even leaving marks and often resulting in heartbroken awakening.

 

I've put this bed away five times before. Each time I've thought that surely I will never forget how my baby looked nestled within its little walls, safely tucked where I can reach my hand out any time of night and feel the gentle rhythm of their heartbeat.

The truth is that I do forget.

I do.

The other truth is I don't know how many more times, if ever, I will be wrapping a baby and settling him/her in this basket bed again. I'm a little too experienced to think we get to take things for granted.

And while one might think that I'm tired of "the baby thing," that perhaps it's old hat, or that I would be glad to put away these vestiges of early infancy, on the contrary, it gets harder and sadder each time.

Not to mention, regardless of what the future holds for me, I know that this baby, this little man-child, my very own Elliot Hale, will never sleep in that little basket bed again.

Oh, how much a mother's heart must let go of over the years.

So yes, the lumps form in my throat and my eyes burn with unshed tears and my insides ache.

And I think I have barely scratched the surface.

 

Dear Self,

Today you sat down and in earnest began preparing yourself for a new school year. You wrote out some lesson plans to go along with the steady stream of books arriving at your door these past few weeks. You spent time trying to wrap your head around homeschooling not one, not two, not even three, but four young ones, while not losing track of investing in the toddler and baby who need at least as much time and energy as the school-age children. You created a new chore chart and mapped out a daily rhythm. You opened packages and tore off cellophane and got very excited about brand new math and handwriting books now tucked amidst dozens of gently-used living books and field guides and teacher manuals. You even took the time to sharpen 24 brand new #2 pencils.

But, Self, can I remind you of the thought that kept rolling through your mind the whole time, like a wave gently washing over your already-somewhat-panicking soul?

"Above all, let me awaken wonder in my children this year."

Wonder about God, His goodness, His creation, His plan. Wonder about the world around them, their lives, things seen, and things unseen.

In a month, when any daily rhythm seems like wishful thinking, when chores aren't being done well, when the baby keeps interrupting grammar lessons, when getting math finished seems more important than whether or not we're having fun, when you're just too tired or too busy or too distracted or too overwhelmed or too all-of-the-above, please remember this: your goal is to awaken wonder in your children.

Your children are still young. In time, they will need to tuck away facts and memorize formulas and recite information. For now, they need to discover, explore, and absorb. And trust me, Self, when I say that this will in turn be the best foundation for all the things that must come later.

Self, don't be afraid to set aside the books and the plan when necessary. Be courageous enough to let life become the curriculum and reality become the tool. Don't measure your successes against another person and certainly not against another system. Be quick to remember what the Lord is looking for from you-- to do justice and love mercy-- and then choose that when becoming a harsh taskmaster, strict teacher, or rigid dictator seems (in the moment) like the best way to get us back on track.

Enjoy learning. Enjoy your children. Enjoy the process.

And yes: above all, seek to awaken wonder about God's goodness, and this life and world we've been given, in your children.

Sincerely,
Me

8

While on a 9-day hiatus from facebook-- and pretty much all things electronic (computer, movies, and even the summer olympics!)-- my biggest girl hit another milestone: on August 12th, at about 5:15pm, she turned eight years old.

[Excuse me while I continue on my of-late-especially sentimental and emotional streak (I feel like post-partum hormones are hitting a bit late this time around), but my eyes fill with tears at just the mention of this. Time flies by and I grow more and more conflicted each day: I love seeing my children blossom, developing interests and skills and personality and tenderness toward the Lord, but I simultaneously feel myself so tempted to grasp at what was and what is, trying desperately to hang onto every second that keeps slipping me by.]

Bronwyn is a wonderful eight-year-old girl.

She is generous and compassionate.

She is a delightful and easy-going companion.

She is increasingly capable and confident, daily assisting me in the kitchen (I rarely prep salads or pick herbs from the garden for dinner or make sandwiches for lunch, thanks to her), able to tuck her younger sisters into bed, holding Elliot when I need an extra pair of hands, running errands with me when I don't want to go alone, and more.

She has many interests, loving dolls and princesses and musicals and ballet, as well as loving whiffle ball and dogs and digging in the garden and playing with her brothers.

She is a tough cookie: spills and bumps and bruises and sickness are all handled with great fortitude on her part.

Perhaps the thing that blesses me the most, though, about her is her love for Jesus. She truly wants to honor Him.

I like Bronwyn. She is one of my favorite people to spend time with.

And I love celebrating eight priceless years with her.

She is a true gift to our family.

 

Summer days

I always have in my mind's eye what summer days will be like. Somehow those ideas prove to be delusions more often than not.

Summer days this year are, more realistically:

:: early mornings with the baby who thinks 6-7am is the best hour of the day (and his smiles at that time have a way of making me agree)
:: a little weeding of the gardens, some not-so-routine watering, and continual amazement that these relatively uncared for seeds and seedlings turn into something edible

one of many heads of broccoli that have grown in my garden

:: sending children out the door to play so Elliot can take long morning naps in relative peace and quiet
:: getting back on track with daily quiet time of my own, thanks to a post-baby's-birth return to basic routines here at home
:: washing dirty arms and legs and faces and leaving big rings of mud all over the tub
:: finishing up some smallish house projects and feeling refreshed by an outlet for creativity

an etsy-inspired lighting project

:: reading The Trumpet Of The Swan aloud
:: sickness-- and more of it than I like to think is possible this time of year
:: feeling surprised each day when it's already time to make dinner (I blame it on how long it stays light in the summertime...)
:: eating almost completely vegetarian in an effort to use up our own produce plus our weekly share from a local CSA, and feeling thankful for a husband and children who make that a pleasant possibility

eating strawberry shortcake for breakfast isn't so hard, they've all decided

:: wishing I could spend every waking hour outdoors; comforting myself in windows flung wide open, letting in the smells and sounds of summer, for days and days and days on end
:: reminder upon merciful reminder that home is a good and noble and worthwhile use of my life and heart and energies

after all, is there a sweeter place on earth?

:: putting off planning for the fall and for the first time in my life not feeling worried about doing so

 

Bring on the smiles!

Elliot's first 10 weeks were marked by tears. Mostly his and sometimes mine.

He wasn't growing well or sleeping well. He cried so much.

At the beginning of June, though, things began to change bit by bit. He started growing. He started sleeping on his own, in his bed. He began laughing more and smiling all the time.

And now, at almost 4 months?

Oh this baby! He is a joy! He naps twice everyday for lengthy periods of time. When he's not asleep, he generally rolls around on the floor or plays with the toys in the swing or laughs at his siblings or watches movies (!), and he lights up whenever I walk into the room (which melts my heart every time).

He is such a funny looking little man: big ears, big eyes, bald head. He has the brightest grin, the softest skin, the wrinkliest scowl. I love the quirkiness of him so much it makes my insides hurt.

I remember often thinking during hours of pacing the floor as he wept and I wanted to weep from the exhaustion and stress of it all, "Just hang in there. This will not last forever. One day, you'll miss these days, Brietta."

I knew from experience that not all babies slip into this world as contentedly and seamlessly as some, and I also knew that while those days and nights with a heartbroken baby can seem to last forever, they actually go by in the blink of an eye.

Here we are already: those newborn days are behind us.

Sure, I wish those first 2+ months had been marked by something other than tears. They weren't exactly fun for me and they certainly made cherishing each moment more of a struggle. But motherhood isn't about what makes my life picture-perfect or easy, after all. Each moment of swaying while he fussed, of setting aside the personal agenda to hold him another hour, was a gift I could give to him. Love I could pour out on him. Joy in the sacrifice that I could invest into him.

It wasn't so much. Not really.

Certainly not compared to the richness of our lives with Elliot around!

 

Rain, Recovery, and Repainting

It's raining.

Which may not seem like a big deal, except that it's been an exceptionally dry summer and rain has been scarce these past months. The grass, normally a vibrant green and soft to the touch here in the northernmost parts of New York, is brown and crunchy. My perennial flower garden is sad: withered leaves, stunted height, sparse and short-lived blooms. My vegetable garden's success is largely due to the sprinkler that has been set up nearby and used almost daily since mid-June.

Today I am reminded in the most tangible of ways that whether my portion be sunny skies or dreary rain, for ultimate growth and prosperity, we need both.

I need both.

**********

It's been almost 3 weeks now since our family first came down with hand, foot, mouth disease. This virus, of course, couldn't just hit everyone all at once and be over with. Oh no, we prefer to take it one at a time in order to maximize its length. I assumed that Daniel and I would make it through unscathed since this is typically an illness associated with children; however, when I became its last victim, Daniel was officially the lone survivor.

(I have no doubt that my exhaustion from caring for my little patients for over a week at that point played a huge part in me getting sick. That and the fact that Elliot was drooling and crying all over me for 3 days while he suffered from the fever, sore throat, and then rash.)

The good news is that we are now immune to this virus. As much as I don't love having my kids get sick, if it's an illness that is fairly common, I'd rather just get it over with!

**********

Since I was stuck at home due to being a walking germ-factory, taking on a house project seemed like the thing to do. Although I am not an extrovert and I need little (like... very little) human interaction in any given week, after a good stretch of being isolated, missing church repeatedly, and not going anywhere, even I start to feel lonely and stir-crazy. Getting a good project rolling helps ease the pain of solitude a bit.

Giving the kitchen a facelift in preparation for a new school year was just the ticket.

I spent many hours with paintbrush in hand. Many. There are 6 windows, 3 doors, lots of old beams, kitchen cabinets, and a vaulted ceiling in this space. While the baby napped, I painted. When the children went to bed at night, I painted. I snuck in an hour here and an hour there. And then another and another and still another.

Daniel dealt with the tricky parts of the mini makeover whenever he was home: painting the ceiling, making new light fixtures out of mason jars, rebuilding the base of the new-to-me cabinet, and more.

It's done now and we are already loving the changes. It's bright. It's simple. It's much more functional than the dining room for morning puzzles or afternoon art due to its not being in the very middle of the house. I've a feeling it will be the perfect space for our upcoming school year.

 

Valuable

On Saturday night, the schedule finally allowed us to make it to our church's monthly young couples gathering. We were so privileged to hear the ever needed and appreciated message that children are valuable. They matter in God's economy and, quite frankly, they matter in the very physical economy of our nation.

I'm so thankful for that reminder.

Yesterday evening, we were trying to wrap up some loose ends on things we'd tackled during Daniel's day off. All in all, it had been a rather productive day, especially when one considers the fact that six children ages nine and under are tagging along in everything we do. Two more batches of jam, errands in Potsdam, electrical work in the bedrooms, mowing the lawn, house cleaning in preparation for a couple very hot days, menu planning, and more. It was well after 6pm as we were finishing up outside in the vegetable garden, staking tomatoes and hoeing/mulching. The kids were, by then, somewhat nuts. Elliot was crying as Bronwyn held him and my three redheads were throwing straw and stepping on baby basil plants (!) and fighting over the garden hose. Everyone was hungry and hot and tired. We were fraying around the edges.

I just wanted to finish up before thinking about baths and dinner. After all, couldn't they see that the garden was important? That if I didn't get some things tended to the whole thing could be a waste of time?

And what, I wondered in my absolute frustration amidst the chaos of children and dirt and water and heat, is more precious than time?

I wish that had been the moment of clarity. It wasn't.

I continued to get frustrated. I spoke harshly. I started cleaning up from my work even though I wasn't finished, telling Daniel I would bring the kids inside and clean them up before starting dinner prep because I couldn't take it any more. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was as bothered by my tone and attitude as I was by the kids' behavior. That made me grumpier.

Baths and showers completed, the baby nursed and somewhat settled, I began washing the sugar snap peas first. And it was as I stood at the sink that I felt the tears start to sting my eyes.

Time. Time. Time.

I care so much about time. About how I'm using it. About whether or not I'm wasting it.

And in the midst of those very concerns, I miss the fact that time isn't more valuable than my children. I forget that it isn't the most precious thing I've been given. And certainly if I am going to squander and use it on anything, my children are the very ones I ought to be squandering and using it on.

Not the garden. Not the house. Not my hobbies. Not the ministry.

On them.

Time will pass me by. One day I will take my last breath. My life is like a vapor, here one second and gone the next.

But my children are my legacy.

They are worth the physical work of my hands, my intellect, my emotional energy, and my time. I have not wasted any of my own personal resources when I pour all that I have into them.

I'm not saying there isn't a time to buckle down and call something a priority. Yes, the garden is important. The house is important. The ministry is important. Even hobbies can be important. But none of them is more important. Neither am I saying that time doesn't matter and that we should be frivolous with it. But it is meant to be a tool, not my master.

Standing at the sink, I found myself praying [again] for perspective. For eyes to see in those little but stressful intersections of life what truly matters. I wondered why I so easily forget (don't I know this and didn't I just hear it?). I felt discouraged that I might never change. But in the end, I know that He is building this house, He is building me, and He will be faithful to help me learn that my children are the most valuable gift I've been given.

Psalm 127
If God doesn't build the house, the builders only build shacks. 
   If God doesn't guard the city, 
      the night watchman might as well nap. 
   It's useless to rise early and go to bed late, 
      and work your worried fingers to the bone. 
   Don't you know he enjoys 
      giving rest to those he loves? 

 Don't you see that children are God's best gift? 
      the fruit of the womb his generous legacy? 
   Like a warrior's fistful of arrows 
      are the children of a vigorous youth. 
   Oh, how blessed are you parents, 
      with your quivers full of children! 
   Your enemies don't stand a chance against you; 
      you'll sweep them right off your doorstep.

 

When Daddy's away...

... the mom and kids will play!

Actually, Daniel being gone for any length of time (one night, three weeks-- it doesn't much matter) usually means wedig in and take care of a small list of projects. These are typically things that I've been wanting to see finished that he will gladly and quickly take responsibility for but just doesn't have time for. It's a fun way to surprise him (sometimes with more holes in freshly painted walls than he perhaps fully appreciates!) and a great way to help pass the time as we await his return.

This time around has been no different-- and fortunately the kids enjoy some out-of-the-norm work just as much as I do! With their help, I've moved and swapped out a few dressers, deep-cleaned the boys' room, moved and reorganized bookshelves and downstairs toys, put some things in the attic and taken some other things out, hung pictures in the family room and my bedroom and the upstairs bathroom, and packed up Gabriel's little boy drum set *sniff* that he's officially outgrown (both in sound and size).

I've also dug in a bit with Elliot. He's 2 months old now and in the past 2 weeks finally starting to fill out. When he goes in for a weigh-in next week, I anticipate some good results. With all that in mind, I decided it was time he start learning how to nap. I'm no rigid scheduler when it comes to my babies (ha!), but Daniel's absence sure does highlight just how little time Elliot spends not in somebody's arms. (It's also highlighted how rarely I shower before Daniel gets home from work. Yikes!)

We're not setting any records by any means, but we're getting into a little groove and I'm actually finding enough time to do some things each day without him getting ridiculously overtired because I'm not holding him. But don't tell: the little man will only sleep on his tummy. I know this isn't recommended-- and believe me, I've tried to get him to sleep on his back-- but it works.

Of course, without Daniel here I am running low on sleep. I'm doing the 8-10pm pacing/bouncing with the fussy baby, the nursing throughout the night hours, the waking at 2am with a croupy Aubrey, the praying with Gabriel about bad dreams at 4am, the starting the day with Claire at 6am, etc. I miss my early-morning man (and the coffee he always has waiting for me when I wake up).

Last night as we sat down to a fancy dinner of baked oatmeal (!), Bronwyn sighed, "The house feels so empty without Daddy."

So when Daddy's away, the real truth is that we count down the days until he's home again!

 

Misc.

:: We are in our final week of school here in the little yellow house. Gabriel and Bronwyn have finished all their books/objectives other than a couple more days of history. Jackson has 2 more pages of math (he has finished the entire Bob Jones 1st grade book in about 5 months), some Explode the Code (now that he's reading books like Danny and the Dinosaur, it seems kind of silly to have him doing page after page of words with the tch ending so we may just be done at the end of the week, regardless of how much is technically left undone), and a few pages of handwriting. The fact that we are so close to being finished with everything I'd hoped to accomplish feels like nothing less than a miracle, and I absolutely mean that. I seriously have no idea how this happened. My kids amaze me.

:: Elliot is finally napping almost every day, thanks to a swaddling blanket a friend lent me. He's also a bit less fussy now that he's got a decent sleeping routine at night, is nursing and growing better (last week he was 9lbs7oz and 22" long), and as long as I don't eat a lot of corn in one day. So although he isn't even remotely what I would call an easy-going baby, I'm finally able to snatch time here and there throughout the day to take a shower, do the laundry, cook [occasionally], weed the garden, etc. This makes life feel much more manageable.

:: The weather has been amazing. Absolutely amazing. Even yesterday's rain was welcomed as today the gardens are bursting afresh in size and color (along with the weeds, I'm afraid). The kids play outside endlessly once their chores and school are done-- and we've even done history outside most days so we can enjoy the sun during that time, too.

slip n' slide fun in the 89-degree heat on Sunday afternoon
 

:: I'm in my fourth week of trying to get out at least 3 mornings a week for a walk/run. Most days when I return after the 20-30 minutes I'm gone Elliot is crying (what can I say? the boy loves me!), so this is as much a commitment on Daniel's part as on mine. Some mornings I am so tired when I wake up that I come up with a million reasons why I shouldn't, but after I've made myself, I am so glad. It's not just the exercise that's so great-- it's also getting outdoors first thing and that brief time alone with Jesus. I love it.

:: We are incredibly close to getting into our upstairs bedroom. Daniel had set a deadline for himself of being done by the last weekend in May. Due to some emergency things that came up on several of his recent days off, the work is barely getting done in time-- but it's getting done! Elliot even cooperated the other night and let me pitch in for a couple hours of late-night painting following a full day at work/home and the boys' first baseball game of the season. As Daniel and I burned the midnight oil, we wondered how many hours we've clocked doing just that sort of thing together. It's actually become quite special in its own way.

the trim is painted and the oil is curing even as I type;
the room will be ready for furniture tomorrow evening

:: I have been making a plan of attack for best enjoying and most thoroughly taking advantage of summer's fresh produce. In early April, I signed us up for a full share from a local CSA (community supported agriculture) and we'll begin receiving weekly boxes of produce in June. Our own personal vegetable garden will mostly be filled with foods that I can preserve for the winter months, like lots and lots of tomatoes for canning, winter squash, etc. I'm hoping this is a good combination that ends up best facilitating a largely organic, vegetable-rich diet for us year-round. Time will tell.

:: With the conclusion of our 2011-2012 school year right before us, I have been trying to come up with a strategy for the summer months. As our family grows, so too does the reality that fun takes work/preparation/planning. We don't just have one or two sets of feet tracking in loose grass and dirt throughout the day. And at the end of the day, we have a good deal more than one or two children's sweaty, grass-stained clothes and bodies to deal with. (Don't even get me started on how long it takes to get ready for and then clean up from a swimming/beach outing!) I love, love, love the opportunities for fun that summer provides, but I must be ever armed with a plan for how to make the logistics of it all work-- logistics like laundry, keeping the house in some semblance of order, meal planning and preparation, and making sure everybody gets enough sleep. Any ideas/suggestions that you find helpful are gladly accepted over here!

 

from my kids

My kids are getting old enough that the cards and notes they give me reveal more and more personality and personal thoughts all the time. This year, my Mother's Day cards were just wonderful. As is fitting for the year and the past crazy 6 weeks we've shared with Elliot, they constructed these cards while I was in the shower getting ready for church yesterday morning-- nothing like flying by the seat of your pants! Somehow they didn't find the narrow time constraints at all difficult and managed to produce some priceless treasures anyway.

Claire's was, of course, just scribbles on a piece of construction paper on which Daniel had written, "MOM".

Aubrey drew a picture of me, complete with arms and legs protruding directly from a gigantic head. A classic 4-year-old portrait all the way.

Jack began by lovingly drawing a picture of a rainbow, only to somehow progress to a picture of the cross with lilies all around it-- on the back of the card wrote, "He is risea," which must have somehow seemed like the logical way to spell "He is risen" in his 6-year-old mind. I'm still not sure of the thought process that led him to such a card and sentiment for Mother's Day, but I love it anyway.

Bronwyn wrote a nice note for me, including, "You're the best mom in the whol world. I think you know why, I've seen lots of moms and you are the best mother of them all." I'm not sure we should be comparing, but I guess if she's going to, I appreciate that she still thinks I'm tops.

Gabriel somehow wrote an entire poem for me in the brief 15 minutes he had. My budding writer.

Beaneath the stars you lay
staring at the moon
And the man in the moon is full with gloom
Because the stars had put on a wonderful show
And the moon has not.

How can I please this mother with six children tonight?
said the moon.
And one of the stars came over and said:
Come join us in our show.
Me? said the moon.
Yes you, said the star.
You're the brightest object at night.
OK, said the moon, but I might not get it right.
Sure you will, said the star.

Then down on the earth you gasp
for in the tracing of the stars it said,

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

Curriculum

It's that time of year. We're in the countdown to wrapping up the 2011-2012 school year (9 math lessons, 4 pages of handwriting, 10 history lessons, etc.), which for me always means one thing: I am already looking at and dreaming about curriculum options for next year. I'm pretty sure that pouring over catalogs and websites and wishing that somehow we could do it all is a sure sign that I love homeschooling!

I haven't purchased anything yet so nothing is completely set in stone, but since it's helpful and inspiring and interesting to me to see what others are considering, I figure I'll share the plans that are rolling around in my head in case it's also helpful to you!

1. Bible

        

We have many wonderful children's Bibles and I love them all. But we've used and reused them quite a bit-- and we also come up short-handed (more kids than Bibles!) when I tell everyone to sit down first thing to do some personal Bible reading. I'm planning on buying the Old Testament and New Testament Story Bibles for Older Children by Anne DeVries for Gabriel to use, while I'll have Bronwyn continue reading out of Arthur Maxwell's 10-volume Bible Story set (which is what I read as a child) and Jackson continue reading out of The Early Reader's Bible (which is what both Gabriel and then Bronwyn started with). For family devotions, we love Mary Batchelor's The Children's Bible in 365 Stories.

2. Math

         

Math was probably the simplest decision for me this year. The math we used this past year proved to be a great fit for each child (and for me as the teacher), so that's what we're sticking with. Gabriel and Bronwyn will use Teaching Textbooks, grades 5 and 4, and Jackson and Aubrey will use Bob Jones, grades 2 and K5.

3. Early Reading/Phonics 

   

I've never used a phonics curriculum so I don't plan on using one with Aubrey either. This isn't because I'm against phonics programs, but simply because the "method" for teaching children to read that I first tried has worked exceptionally well for my kids so far. I guess I figure that as long as it's working and I am excited about it, we won't change anything. The foundation of the method I use is laid out in Ruth Beechick's A Home Start In Reading. Just like with the other children, I will begin Aubrey with that method and then add in Explode The Code's primer series, Get Ready for The Code, Get Set for The Code and Go for The Code, as a supplement. The A Beka readers that were passed on to me from my mom round out our reading program and are great at getting beginners reading "books" very quickly, making for some proud moments that I absolutely look forward to with each child!

I had been thinking up until about a week ago that I would continue with Explode The Code for Jackson, too (he is finishing up Book 4 right now), but reading "clicked" just in the past several days and immediately upon that happening, his excitement about these workbooks is diminishing. Now that he's starting to really and truly grasp reading, he is also feeling the repetition of the program (which is, I think, a positive for children who are not yet reading independently, but does potentially get boring for the child who is getting established in reading).

4. Handwriting

      

Back when Gabriel was in 1st grade and Bronwyn was in K, I started using Getty-Dubay's Italic Handwriting series. It isn't the way I first learned to write, so at the time I wasn't sure how I felt about it. As we've progressed through the program, though, I can see how perhaps it is a great way to teach penmanship for two reasons: 1. it flows into cursive more naturally, and 2. it seems more practical in a world that uses a hybrid of printing & cursive in adulthood. I have children in all different books in the series-- A, C, E, and F-- and am very pleased with my children's handwriting, which is I guess a good test of a handwriting curriculum.

This year I'm going to try a copywork series by Sandi Queen for Gabriel, Bronwyn, and Jackson. I've never seen it before so I have no idea how we'll like it, but I do love the descriptions-- and the cover art is enough to make it appealing to try!

We've not done formal grammar yet, but now that Gabriel is well established in a love for writing, I want to add in more study of the mechanics. This boy of mine writes and writes and writes-- I can see him becoming a well-written man someday if I can guide him without squashing his passion for it. With that in mind, I'm going to be using A Beka's Language 3, but we won't go overboard with it. I'll probably use it 2x/week at most and I'll continue to let his "free" writing (he loves to write books*-- he's on the 4th book in a series he's currently writing!) be just that: free. I may also include Bronwyn in this, though I haven't decided for sure.

*I keep our cupboard well stocked with blank white bound books from Bare Books. Homeschoolers do get the school/business shipping rate, too, which I think is awesome!

5. History

   

This fall we're going to put our Beautiful Feet Early American History study on hold in order to join with some other students in a study about the Titanic/1912/the Progressive Era/etc. I'm already having lots of fun finding resources, including a 1912 Paris fashion coloring book for Bronwyn, literature that was published at that time for reading, documentaries for watching, and museums for visiting (please, can we take a field trip or two, honey?), and I can't wait to dive in! All the kids will be involved in this since unit/family study/learning together is one of my very favorite things about homeschooling.

6. Science

   

To go along with our Titanic inspired study, I'm leaning toward getting Apologia's Exploring Creation with Zoology 2: Swimming Creatures of the Fifth Day. My kids are fascinated by sea life and exploration, and I think they would really enjoy this.

We'll also continue with nature journaling (inspired by Keeping a Nature Journal). Last fall I purchased each of the three older children nice spiral bound sketchbooks that they are systematically adding to a bit at a time. These journals have drawings, poems, pressed leaves and flowers, etc. in them. Currently, the emphasis has been drawing birds, which is what Gabriel has been learning on Fridays in his art class and then comes home and teaches the others.

7. Art

Although I'm no artist (ha!), I do love art and my children love art, so if we have time we'll do a small study of famous pieces of art and artists using Usborne's The Children's Book of Art as our spring board. This is less essential since art is included at Friday School, which means that if the other elements of homeschooling are taking up all our time, we can shelve the idea for another time/year if need be.

8. Physical Education

No textbooks here! We cover health, hygiene, etc. in daily life with reminders ("Flush the toilet AND wash your hands, please!"), discussion, doctor's visits, treating sickness, talking about Aubrey's heart, caring for younger siblings, and more.

Exercise and activity looks like a lot of outdoor play, gym class at Friday School, basketball & baseball with church/community leagues for the boys, and ballet for the girls (Aubrey is already pretty determined that she wants to do ballet and not basketball, T-ball, gymnastics, or any other thing an older sibling might suggest). Bronwyn has started running with me now that I'm running again and Gabriel has started running with Daniel. Hopefully we'll be able to keep it up since they both love it.

 

And that's it in a nutshell. Again, pretty much nothing is set in stone and there's still more exploring to do, but I'm excited about the planning and dreaming! And I always take recommendations if you know of something that you think, after reading this, that I'll love! :)