For me, it is easy to think that math and reading and writing...these are the things we "learn" to do.  I was good at this kind of "learning" in school.  It is hard to remember that there is a lot of life to be "learned" outside of books.  I was sharing with a friend how hard it has been for me to train our kids to do chores, to help clean and keep things orderly. I don't like the delegating, the follow through, the detailed teaching required.... I was wishing I was more like this friend, who naturally trains and delegates in all that she does around her home.  She stopped me and told me about how for her, it was teaching children from books that was difficult.  She spent many hours thinking through how her kids would learn best from books.  Teaching her kids to clean a bathroom, though, for her, was what came easily.   She reminded me that just as she had to work on the books, the academic learning...I need to work on the chores, the daily character training of practical work.  It was this "aha" moment for me...yes, it is all learning...just different types.  Some come easily, some do not...but it's all good work to be done.  Yesterday, Caroline had her first sewing lesson.  She loved it and I honestly did as well.  She is a careful thoughtful worker and it was good to realize she is ready for lots of "learning" outside of the classroom as an eight year old girl.  

A few vocabulary words to begin:
rainbrella (from Hannah):  what you use to shield yourself from getting wet in the rain
cheese grill (from John Mac): one of the best sandwiches ever....
All little kids have interesting words, but these two words have persisted despite years of correction....

A thought:
It is wrong to see pumpkins while there is humidity and you are breaking a sweat.  The smell of dry leaves really should accompany temperatures below eighty degrees.  Just as I was frustrated with the April snows in the great North, I am equally frustrated by the warm pumpkin weather down South!

A picture:
A little brother runs to take his big brother the bottle of gatorade he left in the car.  Big brother is in full baseball uniform and already throwing his practice throws.  Little brother runs so fast, leaves the bottle right at big brother's feet.  He returns to Momma quite pleased with a task accomplished.  He waits patiently through the game; runs around beneath bleachers, plays tag with friends.  Afterwards he is given a baseball hat from the coaches, an extra one they had...just like his big brother's.  He wears the red "NT" inscribed baseball hat the whole next day, sleeps with it at the top of his bed.  Imitation is the truest form of flattery.

Sister as Hero

Hannah has a hero and her name is Caroline.  Caroline is five years older than Hannah and it is so beautiful to watch the special place that her big sister has in Hannah's life.  Yesterday, while Caroline was at ballet, Hannah suddenly broke into tears, "I miss Caroline.  It isn't fun when she is gone."  Caroline paints Hannah's nails; Caroline fixes her hair almost every day (in colors and styles that no mother would think of).  Caroline encourages and distracts Hannah when she is sad and can always get her to stop crying.  Caroline is patient with Hannah and includes her in all that she does.  I watch with joy at their friendship, but I also realize I am missing out as a Momma.  You see, I was the one that thrilled Caroline when I painted her nails or braided her hair in a french braid.  I can remember how excited she was to have tea parties with me, to eat hotdogs with toothpicks on our back porch.  Hannah doesn't even know I can do these "fun things" because she is so busy having fun with her big sister.  There are many articles that talk about what a shaping influence siblings have on your life.  I am so thankful that Caroline is a beautiful shaping influence.  And I will wait and one day I hope I get to show her the fun side of Momma.

School Days

I think school decisions can be some of the hardest decisions parents make for their children.  They feel more powerful than the many small ones we make for our kids everyday.  (Although I think this is not really true...it's those thousand character shaping moments of yelling or patience, prayer or anxiety that probably really matter...).  We look ahead and see two roads diverging...and we must choose one.  This year we chose to homeschool, but I am far from a homeschool poster child. I wanted to place these pictures here to remember what I love about that road for us, at this point in life.  

First, Hannah in her bathing suit (dancing of course!).  Hannah has been wearing her bathing suit daily for about three weeks now.  It really bothers me, but I try to role with it, reminding myself she will not wear her bathing suit to college one day.  At night, we bathe Hannah, put on clean pajamas, tuck her into bed....and in the morning, we find her in her bathing suit.  She keeps it on for school.  Thankfully, we are able to accommodate this clothing request in our basement schoolroom.  She can be three years old, and well, the rest of us can enjoy Hannah being Hannah.

This is a picture of Henry reading to William and Hannah.  Henry loves books.  He started looking at them when he was nine months old, pulling them off shelves and pouring over the pages.  But reading has been slow and hard work for him.  Henry is finally starting to turn the corner, and I love to listen to him read to his younger siblings.  He loves being able to share a story with them now.  It has been good for Henry not to know if he is in the "blue reading group" or the "green reading group", etc.  He has been coming along at his own pace and it's a joy to see it come together finally.

Every year, we draw the same animals from the book Drawing with Children.  I love the book because it teaches you how to use straight lines and curves and dots, basic things, to slowly build a picture.  And because I wish I was an artist who could make beautiful things every day.  Anyway, back to drawing...we do the same pictures every year in the fall and compare them with the previous year.  Every year, our lines are stronger, the proportions are better....Well, John Mac has never been willing to try and draw with us.  He didn't like to color or pick up a pencil for any reason really.  This week he drew with us for the first time...and look!  So fun to see what you can do when you try.  We were all amazed at what we could do this year.  We sat for an hour with classical music in the background, drawing and coloring....and it was all that is good and beautiful about homeschooling.  

I won't show you any pictures of the day before this when William screamed for 30 minutes in the pack and play because I wouldn't give him a gumball.  And Hannah put play dough on the carpet.  And Caroline, my stable strong student simply cried on me over her math for no clear reason.  We all have our days, but it can be tough when we have them all together.  And it can be good, very very good.

Sometimes you just need....

A menu plan.
Nothing was going right today.  I was fuzzy-headed and tired, over-thinking and un-directed.  The second cup of coffee didn't help as I kept trying to move in a more straight path through my day.  But it wasn't working.  A friend found me.  I tried to explain the myriad of thoughts whirling in my brain, none of which added up to anything.  None were solid; all were the fuzzy sneers of Satan.  She listened, she was patient.  I ended by explaining the one clear example of my foggy day: "And when I went to plan meals for the family coming to visit us...I tried for all of nap time, with nothing."  So she pulled out the legal pad and pen and went to work.  And now I feel so much better.  I feel so loved.  And so ready for my friends to visit.  Thank God for the body of Christ, for friends that can practically love you when they know you don't make a lick of sense.

A Good Run

A dear friend just moved to Rotterdam.  I am sad, though I haven't seen Linnea in almost a year.  But my eyes burn when I think of her being so far away.  I think of her each time I take my first tentative steps out the door in the morning to go for a run.  You see, she is my running friend.  So I step out and wonder if she would be running in this heat, this rain, this....We did not live near each other or go to the same church or work together when we began running.  I was hesitant to join her for our first run.   She is lively and tall and beautiful while I am short and shy, but we had shared the same excitement for long runs while talking on the kindergarten playground.  And with children wrapped around us as if we were maypoles, she convinced me to join her, promising she could maintain my slower pace.  She slowed down; I tried my darn-dest to keep up.  Three years later, I have run miles and miles with Linnea and they were some of the brightest spots of life in Williamsburg.  We talked about the environment and politics;  we covered topics of faith and prayer. We talked about the books we loved, the food we were eating, our marriages and our children.  I can remember where we were running when she shared with me her prayers as a child;  I know the gravel path we were on when I told her I was unexpectedly pregnant.  But we could just as easily debate the value of a bikini wax or laugh about our floppy bellies as we ran with tight legs.  And we were never interrupted by phone calls or children, just stopped by our own physical limits of exhaustion and heat intolerance. Coffee was our reward;  well, until she quit coffee on me.  Then my reward was talking to her while drinking coffee and not running.

     I don't know when I will see Linnea again.  I do know that it will be great fun though;  I know that we will run and talk as if we have not missed a day, or a year, or been divided by an ocean.  Until then, I hold it as a picture in my mind as I step out each morning...talking to myself.  How much is a ticket to Rotterdam anyway?

Cello

John Mac just started taking cello lessons this summer.  So far, we love Miss Sarah and are pleased to do "bow holds" and clap out rhythms together.  He is learning how to take a bow and how to sit with a cello.  John Mac is a sincere kid; he is often like a clear pond of calm in our family and to see real ripples of excitement in him as he learns music has been delightful.  The picture above is of his "practice cello;  it is bright blue and made from styrofoam and a paint stirring stick, but he couldn't be more proud of it.
We take classes at the university down in the city, and so we pay parking meters and rush into the building for our lesson.  I thought he would enjoy putting in the dimes and quarters, so I have let John Mac feed the meter the past few weeks.  The other day after class though, he told me he didn't like having to park at the meters.  Why John Mac?  "Well, I don't like that we have to put our money in the meter.  We don't want to use up all our money going to class."  My five year old sees the coins we place in the meter, but not the monthly check I write Miss Sarah.  He knows money matters, but for him it is the quarters he sees disappear in the slot.  Next week we're going to let Daddy drop us off for the lesson, so John Mac won't need to worry about a thing....until he's in his thirties paying for cello lessons.