Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Rise and Shine

This little sweetheart isn't a morning person.  According to Miss Grace, waking up is a process...

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Happy Birthday, Daniel!

Dear Daniel,

Wow!  Ten years old.  I cannot believe you've hit double digits.  Seems like you were just born, like you were just running around as a toddler, like you were just a completely uninhibited, inquisitive little boy.  Now, despite your continued, inquisitive nature, you're the older boy egging the little kids on in their entertainingly uninhibited and inquisitive ways.  You've become a bit more reserved, a little older, a little more mature, a little bit of growing up.  

It makes me sad...and happy.  I miss those baby days.  Okay, not the diapers or the up-at-night crying, but I miss your baby face and crazy exploits.  They have been replaced with this older, handsome kid that is growing, much too quickly, into a young man.  Time, slow down.  

Seriously though, I'm enjoying this stage.   I didn't know that I would. There's something about it.  Laid back, maybe...  Old enough for a little independence; young enough to be carefree.  Not a baby but not a teenager either.  Relaxed.  We're playing football (and by "we," I mean "you"), swinging on tire swings, fishing at the lake.  You're young enough to want to play on the playground but not so young that I have to be right there to catch you when you fall.  

You weigh upwards of 95 pounds!  Solid, all muscle. Your blonde hair keeps getting a little darker, and those piercing, blue eyes are gonna win over some, sweet girl one day.  But all that can wait.  

We're still homeschooling, and you're enjoying your co-op classes again this year.  Writing, science, PE, among others.  Some days are better than others, but I think you're doing a great job!  You're in fourth grade this year, and with that, came an increase in my expectations and an increase in your work load.  I will say that doesn't always go over well. Ha!  

You'd much rather be playing football or researching football or writing notes on your football scorecard chart you made or researching football stuff you want to purchase.'re really into football...more specifically, SEC and UGA.  I love it, and you're awesome to watch the game with.  I did think I may need to keep the blood pressure cuff nearby during various parts of the games, though.

I guess you're changing, and it's hard on a mom.  Your interests change.  Your looks change.  Your attitudes change.  All these things change so fast! As a busy mom, I don't always realize this until I look back.  Then, Bam! There it is.  I begin to think of all your lasts.  The last time you climbed up in my lap to read a story. The last time you climbed up in our bed during a thunderstorm.  The last time you wanted to play with action figures or toys of any kind, really.  (Legos are still cool, though.) But you, my precious son, are growing up, and it is a pleasure to have a front row seat.  You are a spectacular kid, and I am blessed beyond measure to be your mom.

I love you more than words can say.


Saturday, September 6, 2014


What a great time the kids are having in co-op!  Enrichment classes, writing, science, art, geography, PE, ballet, fun, fun, fun! I'm not sure which classes are their favorites, but I'm loving the whole shabang.

There was something special about packing their bags and gathering supplies.  With homeschooling, I think the only one who ever really gets excited about school "starting back" is me, and this year, even I wasn't really excited.  I was overwhelmed and underprepared.  It's hard to prepare with your students surrounding you. All. Day. Long.

Thankfully, things are beginning to improve.  We're getting into a routine, and that is helping.  We're evaluating our schedules and trying to spend more time at home and less time on the go.  The kids are growing up so fast, and before long, they'll start going their own ways as they develop interests and get involved in other activities.  For now, we're maxed out on commitments.  I feel desperate to guard our time because it seems there's always something vying for our attention.

Friday, September 5, 2014

On asking permission...

The day has come that my children are embarrassed by me, or I guess I should say that they are worried that I will disclose information that will embarrass them.  I suppose I’ve earned it by sharing the day-to-day funny stories of antics they’ve found themselves to be a part of.  So they have respectfully asked that I obtain expressed permission to share the details of said antics.  It’s such a bummer because they do the funniest, most amazing things that I would love to share, and this request has most certainly interrupted my thought process.

I wish I could share the crazy things Ethan did when he woke up from surgery after having his tonsils removed.

I wish I could share Daniel’s concerns on his first day of co-op.

I wish I could share what Hannah worries about when she yawns.

I wish I could tell you all about Grace’s ideas concerning where kittens come from. 

But alas, I cannot.  I have to obtain consent…from my kids.  I do love them so, and their opinions, worries, anxieties, so on and so forth matter to me.  I don’t want them to be uncomfortable. I don’t want them to be mad at me over this.  I don’t want them to clam up and not talk to me about important things out of fear that the whole world will find out the inner workings of their thoughts and concerns about life in general.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

First Day of School

After surgery
So have you ever read the story of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day? That was our day, our first day into the new school year.  It was July 28, 2014. Maybe it wasn't that bad, but good grief, we had a rough start...

I woke up with the worst gall bladder attack I've have in many years.  I couldn't walk or move.  It was horrible.  We got started late.  I shouldn't have started at all, but for goodness sake, it was the first day.  And I needed a sick day?!  Crazy talk.  I couldn't do that on the first day.  It would throw off my entire year!!

I slept a little late, and started to feel better enough to start our school day.  Breakfast?  What? Get dressed? What?  You mean they need to eat breakfast and wear something other than pajamas all day?  And of course, they have to really enjoy said breakfast, slowly since we're starting school and all, and we have to clean up the mess from said breakfast. Then, the clothes must be just right since we're not going anywhere.

It was getting late, and we've NOT even STARTED.  I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.  Then, we all came to the table.  It was Bible reading time, and WE were going to have a good attitude, weren't we?

Now, we were on to table work, and not 30 minutes into grammar/language arts, I got my first, "I hate grammar.  What is the point of this?"  We hadn't been into school for 30 full minutes. I enlisted Daddy to come help out with this attitude.

Hungry?  Again?  They just ate breakfast?  We've barely made it into the school day.  Now, they wanted a snack?

We actually made it through the varying levels of math and language arts... I stagger them, so they can all be working on something.  That was a success.  Lunchtime came, and again with the meal mess.  I started to feel sick again and instructed the kids to do silent reading while I rested a minute.

Then, I heard something outside my bedroom door. I saw a beautiful, little brown haired, seven year old sneak into my room.  I didn't open my eyes but a crack, and there was her sweet face.  My precious Hannah.  She pulled the throw blanket over my arms and said, "If you don't feel good, we should pray.  I will pray for you."

And there it was.  My sweet girl, praying...for me...on what felt like a terrible first day.  Oh, the conviction. The reassurance.  The Lord reminded me through her of all that I already knew.  Things may not be picture perfect, but something must be going right.

Why do I homeschool?  For moments.  For time.  For them.  For me.

It's what is right for our family.