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