Birthday post - Timmy at 6!

Here is Timothy at a homeschooling party, enjoying the lawn toys.

Playing in the leaves. Timothy on right, Daniel on left

Here you see Timothy and his block tower.

A birthday post for Timothy, who turned 6 last week--based on The Important Book, by Margaret Wise Brown.  All my kids have birthdays between November and January, so you'll be seeing this pattern three more times in the upcoming weeks.
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The Important Thing about Timothy

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves God.
It's true that he is good with numbers
And that he is Daniel's best friend
And that he loves to sort things
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves God.

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves to cuddle
It's true that he loves to play games
And that he loves AWANA
And that he's picky about food
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves to cuddle

The important thing about Timothy is that he dwells on complicated things
It's true that he can be silly
And that he can be stubborn
And that he loves chocolate cake
But the important thing about Timothy is that he dwells on complicated things

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves a good joke
It's true that he loves math and science shows
And that he's not prone to wordiness
And that he loves pools in the summer
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves a good joke

The important thing about Timothy is that he loves the game Mouse Trap
It's true that he loves Uno
And that he loves all puzzles
And that he has a wonderful baby face
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loves the game Mouse Trap

The important thing about Timothy is that his eyes are sky blue
It's true that he loves pizza
And that he eats a lot of raisins
And that he won't have milk with his cereal
But the important thing about Timothy is that his eyes are sky blue

The important thing about Timothy is that he loved to nurse as a baby and toddler
It's true that he didn't talk until two
And that he knew letter sounds before he uttered a sentence
And that he prefers to teach himself
But the important thing about Timothy is that he loved to nurse as a baby and toddler

The important thing about Timothy is that he just turned 6!
It's true that he loves his alone time like Momma does
And that his love language is physical touch
And that his hugs are tight and long
But the important thing about Timothy is that he just turned 6!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR TIMMY
YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MY CUDDLE BUG
MOMMA LOVES YOU!

far from grace

I'm constantly thinking about my children's behavior.  Are they growing up to be nice?  Obedient?  Grateful?  Are they kind?  Helpful?  Why do they still complain about toy pick-up, after all these years?  Why don't they instantly say thank you?

It goes on and on.  I'm afraid it's consistent with my being a highly conscientious person.  I do these parenting self-checks to make sure I'm doing my best to prepare them for life.

Awhile back, I learned from the book Different Children, Different Needs, that I am what is called a corrective parent.  Turns out that conscientious people not only correct themselves, but they correct their family as well.  A lot.

Ugh!  Exactly what I don't want to be!  Corrective.  It even sounds ugly.

The other day I was reading a child-rearing tips blog post.  This mother served one of two lunches to her large brood everyday.  She said the children didn't complain, nor would she have let them complain.

Excuse me?  You mean I shouldn't be making three different breakfasts every morning, to satisfy three different children?  And I shouldn't be buying a certain kind of whole wheat tortilla, to satisfy my Timothy?  He should just eat what I serve, or go to bed, perhaps?

When I read such child-rearing posts, I always question whether we're strict enough.  What's wrong with us?  Should we spank every day?  Take away more?  Why are we working on the same behaviors for so long?  Why are they so restless and active, compared to some?


If only we would correct more, they would behave better.  Right?

I used to think that.  But not now.  It's too discouraging to the child.  The more we correct, the less they want to conform.  Consistency is key, but excessive correction is poison.

And I have a confession to make.  I'm not more perfect than they are.  Sometimes I have fits.  Sometimes I'm not kind, or patient, or loving.  Sometimes I rant and rave about the toys.....about the shoes......about the mud........about the water splashed outside the tub......about the jacket not on the hook.....about the cheesestick wrapper left on the floor.

What if I made a tape of myself?   Would I want to throw up after hearing just one day?  I'm sure I would destroy it as quickly as possible, lest anyone else ever hear it.  Dealing with an ADHD child doesn't exactly boost parental mood, let me tell you.

But God is patient with me.  He sees me as an individual, because he made me one.  He works with me on one or two things at a time.  He is sacrificial more than corrective.

I'm ashamed of the behavior I've displayed, especially in the last month during these two illnesses.  Being sick depresses me.  Not an excuse, just an unfortunate reality.

Tomorrow is a new day.  I want to look at my children in a new way.  Not as projects.  No more of that.

I want to see them as beautiful works in progress.  I want to encourage, love, support, and nurture them.  I want to laugh with them.   I want to be someone they genuinely like.  Someone they want to emulate.

I'm sorry, Lord.  I repent.  Help me to extend grace and mercy to my children, while they work at shedding their childish ways.  Help me to parent like you do.  Remake me into someone who's humble, gentle and quiet-spirited.

some catching up

I wanted to report by now that good health has once again returned.  However, we are all still coughing and dealing with lower energy levels.  Sinus infections don't go away easily, I'm discovering.  I've taken to boiling water and putting my head over the pan several times a day, to ensure that the intense pain doesn't return.

The financial stress we've been under (six months without a full-time job), is something I've endured pretty well.  Recently though, with the added health stress, my positive outlook has taken a nosedive.  The economy just isn't recovering.  I find myself praying daily for greater endurance.  I know God won't stop providing, but I'm just so weary.

Our neighbor has been out of work since January (specialized work in the auto business).  My cousin Rick in CA--who owns a custom landscaping business--can't find any work and may lose his house.  He previously did very well financially, meaning he has a hefty house payment.  Unfortunately, his set of skills is very specialized; I don't recall him ever doing any other kind of work.

All of us have heard sad stories, I'm sure.

Hardship is a great teacher.  We mustn't forget that, even as the recession drags on.

A friend of my husband's called the other day, out of the blue.  Don couldn't really get out of telling Jim about the job loss, but he did reassure Jim that we're meeting all our bills.  In an act of great kindness, Jim sent a $100.00 check, which arrived a few days later.  Our cell phone bill was nearly a month overdue (Don didn't know this).  We don't have a land phone, so paying our cell bill was a necessity.  We both got teary-eyed over the blessing, but accepting it was hard.  Yes, God put it on Jim's heart to do this, and we're grateful.  It's just that we would really like to get back to paying our own expenses.

This aspect of hardship is harder on me than on Don.  There are givers and takers in the world, and many people in between.  Don is in between; I am a heavy giver.  Taking feels so unnatural.  I can see God wanting me to learn how to receive, but does He have to drag it out this long?  Good grief!  (And yes, I was telling the truth about the jackets, Dear Reader (who sent me an e-mail).  We all have jackets!  Bless your heart!)

In another random act of kindness, Don's sister sent a $300 check, to ensure that Don has sufficient funds to take his first computer-certification exam.  Someone rear-ended her vehicle recently, and she received a $550 dollar check from the driver's insurance company.  She decided to have her son fix her car, enabling her to send some of the insurance money to Don.  We had another teary-eyed letter-opening session.  God is so faithful.  And so are his servants!  We are blessed beyond measure, truly; I have no right to be feeling so down.

Yesterday Daniel and I attended his first counseling session. I gave a detailed history, and the therapist made a diagnosis and wrote treatment goals.  Daniel has Generalized Anxiety Disorder (runs in my family).  He will see his therapist once a week, until the goals have been met.

He is still off his ADHD meds.  I'm happy to report that, with the token behavior system we're using, he's been more manageable this week.

On the way home from the appointment, Daniel asked me if Amanda (therapist's name) loved Jesus.  I replied, "I don't know if she does or not, but even if she doesn't, she can still teach you strategies for dealing with your fears.  She went to college to learn how to help people manage their feelings, and I think she enjoys her job.  Once you get to know her, maybe you can tell her about Jesus."

I watched him in the rear-view mirror as I said this.  He just smiled.  God will use my Daniel in mighty ways.  The poor guy has some handicaps that I wouldn't wish on anyone, but he also has a heart of gold, and a deep love for his Savior.

Last night during prayer time at AWANA class, the teacher asked the children to take turns praying.  Daniel prayed that he would do well next week, when he talked to Amanda about his fears.  Timothy told God that he loved Him, and that he wanted to love Him forever and ever.

My boys can really rattle my nerves.  Pretty often.  But last night, their prayers blessed me beyond measure!  It was the boldness, the sweetness, and the sincerity.  With all this recent stress, I've felt like such a failure as a mother.  Their prayers helped me remember that I'm not the one raising my children.  God is.

And he is a perfect parent.

new photos

I've got the camera working.  This first photo is Daniel's beloved salamander.

Here is my Emily, hanging out.

Here is Anna Grace--10 months old today--playing with the big girl toys.  She is walking very well--losing that drunken-sailor, new-walker stride.

Here is my Timothy, down for the count.  He was sick as a dog yesterday, feverish and listless. He was glad he didn't have to pay any of his token-behavior-system, play-money dollars for any of the TV he watched.  TV is free for sickos around here; it's the only way to get them to rest.  Today he is throwing up and still feverish.  I think we're in for it around here.

I cuddled with Timothy while he watched Charlotte's Web--stroking his face and hair.  As much as I could, I spent special time with him all day.  Then last night as I was tucking him in, he grabbed my neck to give me another hug.  He whispered in his sick-boy, hoarse voice, that he loved me taking care of him.  That made me feel like a million bucks!  I do love being a nurse to my sweeties.

They all got their regular flu shots last Thursday.  He either picked this virus up at church, or in the doctor's office. How catch 22 is that?  Go to the doctor's office for a shot to stay well, and then get sick from your well visit.  That works for me.  NOT!

We wash our hands in the van with gel, and then with soap and water when we get home.  I explained numerous times that they probably won't get sick if they keep their hands off their face.  Then suddenly, they have an insatiable desire to touch their face.  Gotta love kids!

A couple good consignment-shop finds--both warm corduroy fabrics

pride before the fall

Anna Grace is our only baby who hasn't fallen off our bed.  They all rolled sooner than we imagined they would. We were caught off-guard the first time, and just plain stupid when the other two fell.

So of course since Anna hasn't fallen off the bed, we thought we had it going on as parents.

Until this week.

Pride goeth before the fall.

Anna stood up in her high chair Sunday night.  I said to Don, "Honey, she is standing up in her high chair now.  We have to watch out for it."

Next morning, I forgot what she had done the night before.  I gave her Cheerios and then went to quickly hang up some shirts in the boys' closet.

I heard the blood-curdling cry.  I ran out there expecting to see blood everywhere.

There she was, sitting on her bottom, on the floor, crying her eyes out.  No blood.  No head injury.

She fell on her bottom.  Yes, her bottom!  That's the grace of God at work, surely.

He gave me a second warning.  This time I won't mess up again.

Praise you, Jesus!

a privilege

Notes on my scheduling endeavor:

There is some disagreement among child-development experts as to whether or not schedules are good for kids. Generally, they aren't thought to be beneficial for the preschool set, since young children learn best through spontaneous (or facilitated) play.  Ideally, a parent or teacher sets out age-appropriate materials for the preschooler to manipulate, which leads to discovery learning.  Routines are more appropriate than schedules for this age group.

I model my homeschooling/home management schedules after the Manager's of Their Homes book, by Steve and Terri Maxwell. A few FlyLady tips and routines are incorporated too.  I write it all out in half-hour increments, mostly so that I can adequately address all of my goals. The entire endeavor starts in prayer, and then in listing goals for individuals and for the family.  Larger families need this especially.

For example, If I don't create a time slot for reading to my baby and for reciting nursery rhymes to her, these things easily get crowded out by chores.  The consequences of leaving these things out are that down the road, she won't have the bond with me that she needs, and she won't have an easy time learning to read.

Starting each homeschool segment in prayer is also very important to me, and if I don't make room for this,  it too, would get crowded out.

The children don't look at the schedule and feel confined by it.  I look at it frequently at first, as it helps me fall into a routine; once that happens, I can take it down.

Incidentally, there hasn't been a single day in which I was able to do all the things on the schedule.  And that doesn't bother me.  I see it more as a prayful list of my priorities.

Last evening because of Anna's teething, presumably, she awoke every half-hour after being put down at 8:00 pm.  I had to keep nursing or cuddling her back to sleep.  Tylenol would have helped, but now they say too much Tylenol in baby's first year puts them at risk for asthma.  The pediatrician used to give me a sample of Tylenol after every well-baby visit that included shots.  Now he doesn't, due to the new research.   I've been trying not to resort to Tylenol unless she can't fall asleep at all, or unless she can't nurse at all.

Anyhow, by the third wake-up, I had only blogged for a half hour, shuffled laundry once, and straightened up the playroom. The interruptions meant that I had to give up and go to bed with her before any sweeping got done, or before I could disinfect the counters or pick up all her toys.  Certainly, it was frustrating to wake up to crumbs and Cheerios and toys on the floors.  If I let myself, I could even cry about how frustrating teething is!

However, each time I cuddled or nursed her back to sleep, I also got to study her sweet face, with its delicate features and incredibly soft skin.  My heart jumped for joy as I saw her little mouth continuing the sucking motions, after she released the breast.  All was a reminder that loving and comforting a baby is a privilege--each and every time.

The things on my schedule will wait; they will always be there.  Nursing and cuddling her will pass away-- sooner than I can bare.

doggy daycare

Late this afternoon Daniel and Timothy decided to take two stuffed dogs and put leashes around them (white string).  I guess they're desperate for "real" pets?  The salamander (as big as my index finger), toad, frog, water snail, and caterpillars don't count, I suppose?

Timothy:  "Daniel, if we're going to take care of dogs, then we'll have to have a schedule."

Timothy:  (A few minutes later) "Mommy, I need you to make me a chart on this piece of paper.  I need to write a schedule that goes from 6 to 9:30.  I just want the o'clocks and the thirties."

So Momma, much amused, took a ruler and wrote out one-inch lines for all the :00 (o'clocks) and the :30 (thirties), spanning from 6:00 a.m. to 9:30 p.m., using both sides of a piece of construction paper.

I then dressed the girls for outdoor play and headed to the backyard.  Timothy, wanting help with spelling for his schedule, accompanied us and sat at a picnic table, sounding out his words and slaving away on this schedule.  I could tell he got this idea from the schedule I have posted in the hallway, which goes from 6 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.

The whole time he worked (about 35 minutes), I marveled at his attention span! He's not six until next month!

Here is his masterpiece.  I have half a mind to frame it.  Yes, I find it that adorable.  You have to imagine his work, painstakingly written in mixed lower and upper-case letters, with some letters backwards.  Just adorable.   During the afternoon part of the schedule he ran out of ideas, I suspect.  He told me that dogs need a lot of playtime and naptime.  :)

make bed
dressed
breakfast
walk
play
trick
spin
jump
lunch
nap
snack
tv
play
play
play
nap
play
nap
nap
nap
play
snack
play
play
nap
play
eta (eat)
but (bath)
slep(sleep)

a telling breakfast

At the breakfast table:

Momma:  "Timothy, since you're almost six now, I think you need to try milk with your cereal, as well as other new foods.  It is easier and faster to eat cereal with milk, and it tastes better.  We're starting school on Monday and breakfast needs to go faster."

Timothy (in aggravated, whiny voice):  "But I don't like milk!" (He only drinks the Nestle Quick kind of chocolate milk.)

Momma:  "I know you get scared about trying new foods.  When you're scared, ask Jesus for help with bravery.  And I will start praying more about your diet.  You are missing too many fruits and vegetables.  They help you live with less pain and less suffering."

Timothy:  (Whining) "But I don't like Jesus anymore.  And I don't like doing that Bible study anymore.  I stopped listening.  Jesus makes me feel like I always have to work.  I want to play all day!" (No, I didn't make this stuff up.  This kid is wrestling with God.  What a telling statement his last one is (in bold).  We all want our own way, don't we?)

Momma:  "I see a lot of evidence that you love Jesus.  And I see evidence every day that Jesus is working in your heart.  What about when you dance with Mommy, to the Jesus songs on the radio?  That makes you so very happy!"

Timothy:  "But I can't see Jesus."

Momma:  "Faith is believing in things we cannot see.  God puts faith in our hearts.  You don't have to try to believe.  God will do the work."

Timothy:  "But I don't believe in ANYTHING I can't see!" (Man, he's precocious, I'm saying to myself.)

Momma:  "It's true that we don't see Jesus.  But we see evidence that he is here.  When Daniel aggravates you and makes you so very mad, you are patient with him and you always forgive him quickly.  That is God--the Holy Spirit--working in your heart.  On our own, we don't forgive people easily; sometimes we don't forgive and forget at all."

(He was still listening intently, so I kept going.) "And when a caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly, you can see Jesus through that.  Something as wonderful as that doesn't happen by accident.  The world is too beautiful and too perfect to be an accident."

"The comfort Jesus provides us is another bit of evidence that he exists.  We can only comfort ourselves in ways that don't last--like with a new toy, a piece of chocolate cake, a cold drink, or a blanket.  Jesus comforts us in our hearts and minds, and it lasts--if we don't get distracted from him.  And he provides for our needs."

An aside:  If you're wondering why some people starve to death, I think the answer is that God put enough food on the earth--he continues to do so--but we fail to share it.  We don't do our part.  It's a mystery why God allows us to continue to turn our backs on the hungry of the world.  Governmental corruption in starving countries certainly contributes--the logistics are complicated.  We can't put a military presence in every corrupt country.  But we can send more food via missionaries, via planes, etc.  More can be done, even though some of the food will end up in corrupt hands. Just feeding hungry people makes it more likely that they'll rise up against the corruption--on their own.  We can even contribute more to the starving in our own country--via food banks, soup kitchens, etc. I submit to you that we are too comfortable.  Sometimes, being comfortable is wrong, but only insofar as it blinds us to another's hunger--whether that hunger be physical or spiritual.  

Just being somewhat uncomfortable for the past several months has opened my eyes greatly.  I welcome more discomfort.  I don't want blindness.  I suspect God is growing me into a missionary.

Timothy:  "But I want to see him."

My preaching ended there.  Timothy is a mathematician.  A scientist.  He might always struggle with belief.  There's no doubt in my mind that he loves Jesus; the last six months have brought too much evidence.  Just the fact that he is uncomfortable--from the workings of the holy spirit, no doubt--is strong evidence.   Spiritual growth is never comfortable.

The most important task now is to make sure the Gospel of grace is getting through.

scavenger hunts

Sometimes kids need to be bored so that imaginations come alive. With the TV as an option, they too easily skip the search for an activity and just turn on the tube.  But if we limit the viewing to one or two valuable shows or videos--that supplement their curriculum--they will still have a lot of hours to fill. Imaginations then have to be engaged.

I don't mean to preach.  It's mostly to myself if I am preaching.  Often if I'm behind on chores, I fail to keep a close eye on their viewing minutes. Daniel and Emily Rose are auditory learners who tend to self-regulate their viewing.  Timothy, however, is a strong visual learner who needs daily monitoring of TV/computer time.  If we don't train him to self-regulate now, he'll suffer later when he has to manage his own time.

Bringing up what the Bible says about laziness seems to penetrate their hearts more than anything else.  In fact, I need to post relevant Scriptures in the playroom.

Sometimes they need a little help inventing a pastime.  Scavenger hunts or homemade Playdoh are great jump starters.  I started a scavenger hunt this morning involving simple tally marks.  Since then the boys have done five more of their own, that they've given to each other.  Scavenger hunts are neat because all the senses are utilized, increasing a child's appreciation of what God has provided for our entertainment.

Some ideas we've used:

-3 dandelions gone to seed
-2 yellow dandelions
-2 flying vultures
-3 worms
-1 caterpillar
-1 squirrel
-3 pieces of bark
-4 twigs
-1 soft nature find
-1 rough nature find
-1 heavy nature find
-1 wet nature find
- four bird feeders
- 2 chirping birds
- 2 flying sparrows
-1 crunchy leaf
-1 fall-colored leaf
-4 ants
-1 daddy long leg
-1 bird nest
-2 spiders

looking up

Mommy and Daddy were lost in very earthly, worried thoughts this morning. God used our children to snap us out of it.

Emily picked up a small, old Bible off the end table.  She held it up and asked, "Old?"  "Yes", I replied, thinking that Daddy must have told her which Bibles she could handle.

Emily opened it up, turned to a random page, and pointed at some words, saying, "God loves me."

Daddy talked about going out for a prayer walk.  Then he looked at the clock and realized that he'd probably better get his shower.  He needed to leave for school at 12 noon today.  Talking to himself, he said, "I don't know what I should do.  I guess prayer is more important."

Daniel, hearing this, and wanting to go with Daddy on the prayer walk, said, "Yes, there's nothing more important than prayer.  Not in the whole world.  Ever."

So there you have it.  A good kick in the pants via our 2 and 7 year-olds.  God loves us.  And there's nothing more important than prayer.  Any questions?

No, Lord.  I think that just about covers it.  Thank you.

The day is looking up.

Harvest Photos

Here is my sweet Emily Rose, in her "buteful" dress--found at a thrift store.

Timothy is giving sister a congratulatory hug.  She gave up her binky the day before this was taken.

We tried to capture the children's excitement about their successful gardening venture!  This year, the Lord must have spoken to the bees about doing their part.  LOL  We had a better yield.  I love that gardening--something really so simple--can put such delight into their little souls.  It was a holiday-like feel, as we gathered the harvest together and took these photos.  

g

As I look at these, I am filled to the brim with joy at having the privilege of parenting with my honey.  He's not always patient.  His face contorts in aggravation frequently, but his involvement is steadfast--his commitment unwavering.  He puts his time and energy into these precious children, like no man I've ever met.  Thank you, God, for all of them.  And thank you for the blessing of a yard.

May you abundantly bless, compensating richly, the children who must be raised with no yard to call their own.

Emily's mountain

Emily Rose has been busy of late. She is climbing a steep, rugged mountain, of sorts. You see, since the age of 6 months old, she has fallen asleep with the help of her security blanket, AND her binky. Confined to her crib only, the pacifier was never a cause for worry. Middle-of-the-night wakings never resulted in us having to get up and find the binky, which would inevitably end up on the floor. I surmised that she used it on average a total of thirty minutes per day, between her nap and bedtime.

Lately, I noticed she was asking for it when she got hurt, and when we had to speak to her with a firm tone. Experts recommend that pacifiers only be used for sleeping, and that they be given up by three-years-old. I decided she needed to give it up now; for the first time the addiction was getting out of control.

A few hours before a recent nap, I mentioned that her binky was lost. Further, I informed her that because binkies were actually for babies, it was time for her to say goodbye to her binky. She was, after all, a big girl now. My sweet Emily Rose always agrees that, yes, she is a big girl. I ended with, "So is that okay with you, Rose? Can you say goodbye to your binky now?"

"No, Mommy. I need my binky." She then went on with her play. I reminded her again, about thirty-minutes later, that she was going to take her nap without her binky. She didn't respond, but just kept on playing.

Fast forward to naptime. I went through the naptime routine, then stuck around to aid in the transition a bit. She tossed and turned, crying over and over, "My binky, my binky!" Eventually, she even tossed a soft doll at me, in frustration.

But the whole affair lasted only forty minutes. We prayed together for help from Jesus, many times. I stayed for the first twenty, and she toughed out another twenty minutes, before falling asleep on her own. Everyone in the family did happy dances for her, after this hard-fought nap. Except Daddy. He is too cool for happy dances, you know.

I was thrilled, I tell you. My fear was that giving up the binky would mean no more naps. But God knows my needs right now.

Four consecutive times she has successfully fallen asleep without her binky. After two times, we made her a goodbye-binky cake. After the fourth time, we celebrated with ice cream cones. And each time, there were more happy dances, in which the boys and Anna were eager to participate. During these happy dances, Emily would jump up, with her hands in the air, and proclaim, "Imma BIG girl now!" This is a familiar little dance. My sweet girl does it after every successful potty trip, and after she dresses herself or puts on her shoes. It will surely be one of my most powerful memories, as I look back on my early years with this blessing of a daughter. I still have to pinch myself over the fact that I actually HAVE daughters.

I am very proud of my sweet Emily Rose. That steep, jagged mountain has been met with strength and grace. The difficulty of her task was never lost on me.

Bittersweet it is, for Momma. Her security blanket--Emily's, not mine :)--no longer holds the same place in her heart, in the absence of her binky. They worked together these many months to comfort her little soul; rubbing on the satin tag of her blanket somehow isn't the same now. And when I check on her, I no longer see that precious blanket tucked near her face. Oh, how that hurts!

Daniel's special bunny was not given up until last year, at age six. And here my Emily Rose is going to give up her blanket, I fear, at age 2.5. Timothy's security was always just the breast, which he enjoyed as a sleep aid before bed and nap, for 2.5 years. He used it as a sleep aid in the middle of the night for a full two years. I don't know quite how I survived that, but it is a very distant memory now. The cruelty my Momma heart must endure! I don't care for distant memories, thank you very much. As much as a clean, orderly house and garden are alluring, my impending empty nest is not.

My rugged mountain is taking steps like these, to let my children go--coaxing them toward adulthood. I think Momma is having the harder time. She's asking for strength and grace too.

It's all good

That lull in the action I spoke of a few days ago? Short-lived. Anna Grace had a day and a half off from teething. My beloved baby is back to biting her crib rail, her knuckles, her toys, and the breast that nourishes her. Still, playtime is unaffected; she continues to practice her standing-up balancing act. She even took one step forward, before falling. I watched her face for frustration. None; there was only excitement displayed on her beautiful, porcelain face. She simply got back up and tried again, and again, and again. I stand amazed at her physical capabilities! Now if she would only babble more! My children all favored physical feats over language development. Is it that hyper-active gene pool?

Sleep is once again hard for Anna to come by. Momma's day is taken up with getting her to sleep, or helping her go back to sleep. In between, there is a load of laundry done, a sandwich made, a drink poured, a hug given, a dance danced, or a spilled drink wiped up. It's all good..all rich. Yes, I have resorted to Tylenol for the teething--for her not me. LOL It helps some.

And the homeschool planning? Exactly two hours have been painstakingly carved out for this endeavor. Anna's teething situation has prevented me from having additional blocks of time, thus far. And yet, I am relaxed. When called by God to do something, failure isn't possible, so long as we follow His lead.

My task later today is to use the computer to design a homeschooling prayer journal. That must be first priority, lest my teaching load start to overwhelm. For not only must I formally teach the boys, but Emily Rose needs extra storytime, more singing, and color, number, shape, and phonics work. Anna Grace needs vocabulary, singing and rhyme time. Homeschooling literally starts at the birth of each child, and continues until they pack up their clunkers for college.

Incidentally, I never drank in college, nor did I run with anyone who drank. And yet these binge-drinking news stories have me petrified about sending my kids to college! How does one send them off, with such danger lurking? Daniel is careful...even timid and anxious; about him, I need not be concerned. It's Timothy and Rose I'll worry about.

Anyhow, the future is already being prayed about. It pays sometimes to be a worrier. Every friendship, every courtship, every spouse, every marriage...even the purity and fertility of each child--I've got it all covered. My nervousness is good for something after all.

Now back to that journal I'll design tonight; it will guide me through daily prayer for the learning needs of each child. With such a tool, their minds will definitely get filled this year--not from me, but from Him, through me.

Anna Grace had another toe prick for her iron level yesterday. After 3.5 weeks of iron-food treatment, her level went from 8.9 to 9.5--despite her six-day virus. It is common for illnesses to temporarily lower hemoglobin levels. A chart I consulted indicated that for a nine-month-old baby, a hemoglobin level of less than 10 is considered anemic. Anna will be nine months in two weeks. She is gaining ground anyway, and will be tested again in October.

Five a day

There she is, standing and clapping for herself! My goodness! This child looks just like me! That's my smile.

If you're wondering when a picture will be taken of my living room without laundry baskets in the background....well, don't hold your breath. At least I'm keeping up with the washing!



Super Walmart is carrying a new brand of frozen fruit. This is sooo delicious! Highly recommend it on a hot summer day. Just leave out at room temperature and keep checking it for the perfect eating temperature.

Make sure you're getting your five a day by preparing a quick, easy graph you can affix to the fridge, detailing daily produce consumption. Seeing what you're consuming everyday will help you make that extra effort to get enough servings. A graph for whole-grain foods is helpful too. Believe me, it REALLY helps to do this, even if for a month or so.

better day

Hey Jess, thanks for throwing your prayers my way. I actually had a much better day. Both of Anna's rashes (yeast and the viral/fever rash) are nearly gone. She nursed pretty well today, although she still won't take more than a few bites of solids. I fear we are going backwards with the iron levels. Clearly, I have to let go of that stressful issue. I've given it my all, and I'm ready to surrender it.

My floors are clean, and Anna took her naps without any help from me. Due to her nearly constant playtime practice sessions, Anna can stand up unsupported for five seconds now. We keep clapping and getting excited over this, so she began clapping her hands back at us, flashing us a million-dollar smile as a bonus.

Yes, I'm sad she doesn't want to stay a baby. She's racing her way out of babyhood, literally. But how can I be anything but happy for her? She works so hard! She's so focused and determined, without showing any sign of frustration. They're good qualities, which I'll praise and clap and jump up about, even as my heart aches for earlier times.

Daniel walked at 9.5 months, and it looks like Anna may match or beat him. I think that boy better start training. Lil Sis is going to give him a run for his money!

Teeth and Playdates

Good Saturday morning to you.

My sweet Anna Grace birthed her first tooth this week. The other day Emily Rose came to me, holding up her finger.

Emily: "The baby bit me, Mommy."

Momma: "Did she get you with her gums? She doesn't actually have teeth yet." (I had checked that morning--nothing)

Emily: "No, Mommy. Baby bit me."

I told her I was sorry and that Anna didn't mean to hurt her. I still didn't think it was an actual bite, but I wasn't going to argue with a two-year-old.

Later that evening Grandpa and his wife came over for a barbecue. While holding the baby, my Dad said, laughing: "She's got some pretty sharp teeth."

Momma: "I checked this morning and didn't feel anything. Are you sure it was a tooth?"

Grandpa: "She's got teeth now."

Lo and behold, Anna had birthed her first tooth, after 2.5 months of hard labor.

Momma: "Yippee! Maybe she'll sleep tonight!"



Wishful thinking.

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In other news, we went on another park playdate with the homeschoolers. It wasn't naptime for Anna, and since she cries when alone with Daddy, he elected to come with us rather than watch Anna by himself. It would have been impossible to manage the four of them on my own at a large park, so once again I was thanking the Lord for the help.

In some ways I know we would be on a tighter routine without him home, but the extra hands help with the nearly constant diaper changes, potty trips, laundry, and meal-making. Some days this is ALL we manage to get done. People who see our yard (weeds,toys) probably think we're lazy. With two adults home it should be neater, they surmise; I know my Dad thinks that. However, my husband never rests. Helping to care for the children, going to his part-time jobs, looking for full-time jobs, and doing his computer-tech schoolwork, makes for more than a full day. Without the experience of having four children close together, no one can fathom how busy we are.

When evaluating how you're "doing" in your life, always remember to avoid comparing yourself to others. Everyone has a different set of blessings and a different set of challenges. And no one is truly privy to the baggage we might have from our upbringing. Indeed, even when the baggage is old news and completely forgiven, it still affects our skill set as adults. Such baggage is part of the human condition; imperfect parents make for imperfect kids.

Now back to that play date I began writing about. It was awesome! Just two other ladies were there this time. One was the original organizer of the event, Dawn, and a new mom, Kim. Both have rather soft-spoken, gentle personalities--much like mine. My writing isn't always gentle, I know. But if you were to meet me, you would only see soft-spokenness, mixed with an openness and joy and a bit of nervousness. It's a funny thing how writing brings out different aspects of our personality.

It was so nice to feel completely at ease with these ladies! The whole time I was thanking the Lord for the experience, even though I was cognizant that one of the ladies was probably nearly half my age, and the other around thirty. Don thinks I could be way off, but oh well. The point is I'm old. No way around that.

Dawn, the young Michigan-transplant mom who organized it, has two daughters, ages 2 and 4.5. Her husband was transferred here for a year to work in a General Motors plant. They are half expecting a layoff soon though. If not, they'll go back to Michigan to resume work in his other plant, presumably--in a year.

The other mom, an unschooler (meaning the entire curriculum is interest-driven only) has three children--ages around 7, 4, and 1. She suspects that her four-year-old son needs more structure than unschooling provides. He's a live wire, it seems. I can share some tips on dealing with live wires, if she ever asks. LOL

My boys made fast friends with Faith, Dawn's older daughter; she's a tomboy who loves insects. Don took these three out into a field, looking for butterflies. As the Lord would have it, he caught a praying mantis for Faith, who had brought her net and insect container to the park. Faith and her Mom were thrilled! Daniel and Daddy proceeded to find three small insects for it to eat.

Later, the three kids found a tiny toad at the base of a tree. We all admired his cuteness, as though he were a newborn baby just home from the hospital. Homeschoolers are a bit weird, as people go. I find that we are amazingly similar in some subtle ways. For example, the outdoor classroom--or any classroom away from home--holds a special place in our hearts. Stumbling upon learning is a thrill up our spines!

Daniel was initially sad that Daddy hadn't caught HIM a mantis, but it was a good lesson in putting others above one's self. Daniel had already had the experience of caring for a praying mantis AND its egg sac, in 2008. We'll find another this year, I'm sure.

The ladies and I enjoyed each other's children, and shared ideas on what educational field trips were available in our area of Ohio. And the new mom invited us to her mini-farm next Wednesday for a lunch play date. She has 30 apples trees in her orchard, and a ton of blackberry bushes in the woods behind her home. We'll be picking blackberries! We're all as excited as a group of kindergartners taking their first field trip! LOL

Dear Lord, you are good! What a blessing!



As an aside, if you are praying for a close relative, and have been for awhile--sometimes losing faith--this is for you.

The Graduate

My precious Daniel graduated from first grade today! Congratulations, Doodlebug! I'm so proud of you!

The portfolio review went very well. The teacher who served us--a former elementary teacher and homeschool mom--was very gentle and kind. Daniel was very shy and barely said a word, but I think he liked her and I know he was pleased with how it went. We had met her briefly earlier this year at some homeschooling art events she sponsored. Her son is already in college and is a champion ice skater. He earned his Bachelor's Degree last year--at age twenty! Now in graduate school, he is still into competitive skating. I suspect his mom has these side jobs to help pay for the skating, which is a very expensive venture. She earns $30 for every homeschooling review she does, which makes me wish I had an Ohio credential! $30/hour ain't bad!

Anyhow, she thought Daniel accomplished a lot. And she said we had more social studies and science samples than she ever sees! Yeah for Daddy! Those are his subjects!

It surprised her that my husband was involved. She thinks it's typical for husbands to be against the home-teaching process, to varying degrees. A mom she met with last week was in tears during her meeting; her husband wants the kids in school next year, and every year thereafter. As soon as I heard that I felt horrible for the mom, and then I praised the Lord for my husband! Some things in my life are very hard, but my husband is really a bright spot--as is each child of course. There are plenty of things Don does that drive me nuts--the least of which are socks taken off and thrown wherever, and trashing the kitchen and floor when he cooks--but I am fortunate that we have the same vision for the children. That is priceless! I know that a Dad's leadership in Bible study, prayer, AND learning go even further than a Mom's does. Statistics prove it, although I'm too tired to find the articles again and link them. Sorry. Momma's one tired girl!

After two months of teething behavior, I think my Anna is finally going to be sporting a tooth soon. Lately she sticks her finger in her mouth during nursing--ouch for Momma! It breaks the suction enough to provide her some pain relief, while still allowing some milk to get through. Another clue is that she is waking about every 60-90 minutes at night. Talk about undereye circles! I've been burning the oil trying to get the portfolio in tip top shape this week, and her wake ups on top of that have given life that boot-camp feel.

Parenting--the only boot camp you'll ever love!

Now you'll have to excuse me. If I don't stop and get ready for bed right now, I'll fall asleep right here and slump into the keyboard--which would surely wake my big girl, who turned eight months last Sunday! Seems like just yesterday I was drowning you in my newborn-nursing sob stories. Eight months old just doesn't seem possible!

Thank you, Liz, for the diaper-rash cream tip!

final exams

Daniel's first-grade portfolio review is on Monday afternoon. A credentialed teacher will look at all his work and sign a statement indicating he is working at his ability level. I then send that signed statement to our school district late this month, with a list of the curriculum I'll use and the subjects I'll cover in 2009-10.

We're in the throes of final exams, much to Daniel's annoyance. No, they're not required. I just like the concept of final exams. In terms of writing a report card, they have more value than chapter or unit tests for the home-taught student. Chapter and unit tests are valuable mainly in deciding when to move on to new concepts. If they don't still know the tested concepts at the end of year, did they really learn them--or were they just covered? Final exams require comprehensive review that helps a student make cognitive connections that may have been missed earlier. The learning is then solidified, leading to mastery.

While his grades will be mostly B's, his attitude pretty much always stinks. I'll be giving him a U for unacceptable in attitude (he tantrums). It isn't the work; he enjoys learning and he genuinely likes the curriculum. It's sitting still instead of being outside that he hates, or sitting still when his siblings aren't. However, if his siblings are working nearby, they distract him.

Even with medication he struggles mightily to pay attention. When I look at the body of work he's accomplished this year, I see the grace of God staring back at me. It isn't Don's or my effort, or even Daniel's effort. It's grace. My dear son struggles to pay attention to even a simple, five-minute explanation--no matter the method. His eyes wander horribly. I was reading recently that ability to pay attention improves for the ADD/ADHD sufferer when eye therapy is used. Training the eyes to stay focused is most of the battle. Interesting, no?

Anyhow, much needed rest will happen after Monday. We'll take a couple weeks off, then start second grade. They are actually excited about starting their new curriculum!

Daniel really needs the steady routine of year-round school to help him control himself. Routine is everything. He normally finishes in a few hours, spaced over the morning and early afternoon. Plenty of mental rest is built in, and the frequent physical exertion he needs is easy to facilitate--except during the snow months. We won't go there. Suffice it to say that I am praying for gym-membership money.

Timothy will be schooled consistently this year too--his official kindergarten year--although I don't have to do anything formal with the school district. Kindergarten isn't actually compulsory; age six by a summer cutoff date starts compulsory education. He isn't six until November.

Anna Banana's Antics

Anna Grace is sometimes affectionately called "Anna Banana". As I write Anna Banana is pulling up in her crib, and has now rested her chin on top of the rail. Her big, toothless smile says, "I'm just SO proud of myself! Look how long I can stand! Can you even BELIEVE it!"

She started pulling up in her crib about ten days ago. It was touch and go the first two days, with her frequently getting herself into trouble. We would hear her wailing on the baby monitor, when she was supposed to be napping. It was a distinctive wail, with definite, get-in-here-quick desperation. She had pulled up, but panicked because she couldn't get down. Or she was up, but her feet were too far away from the side, creating a leaning-forward angle that crushed her sweet little nose into the rail.

Today in the living room she pulled up using a laundry basket that was strategically placed to block her way out of the living room. She ended up head first in the basket with her legs up in the air, while trying to reach for a sock. She loves socks!. LOL Daniel laughed as he shouted, "Hurry! Anna fell in the basket!" Again, Anna's desperate cries were enough to let me know I'd better run--not walk--to her rescue.

And earlier today, she was getting a bit fussy while Daniel was reading me this oh-so-fascinating book about bugs--assassin bugs, and other interesting types. (We're still doing school.) It was quite fun if you're seven and you regularly hyperfocus on insects. For mom, though? Not so fun. Hearing about the insides of insects turning to soup as a result of a poisonous bite--to be sucked out by the assailant--IS my idea of fascinating, but NOT my idea of fun. But hey, I can pretend to love just about any book--as long as it fosters a child's love for reading. Whatever strikes his literary fancy!

While he read, I gave Anna a magazine that was still wrapped in the rain-protecting plastic cover. She thought that a fascinating toy, and spent fifteen minutes playing with it--allowing Daniel to finish his book. Successfully, she pulled a small strip of plastic off of it and then played with that for another five minutes. She rubbed it across her face, and was fascinated that it tickled her. She then rubbed it on her arm, and got the same affect. Discovering also that it could be pulled and stretched, she was mesmerized. When you're 7.5 months, nearly EVERYTHING is a toy--as long as Momma is close by to supervise.

I love watching their minds work! Now THAT'S fascinating!

My Dear Emily Rose,

Today you did the sweetest thing. If there were a meter measuring my love for you moment by moment, it would have shot through the roof at this. You were on the floor with the baby and Mommy, playing. Anna Grace started fussing, so you went over to her, tried to get her on your lap, and proceeded to lift up your dress and "nurse her". You smiled up at me, as though to say, "It's okay, Mommy. I'm taking care of her."

Then, a little later, when Mommy was on the couch nursing Anna, Anna kept getting on and off the breast repeatedly. She was interested in the swaying trees outside the window; it was a windy day. You wanted to help Mommy so you kept turning Anna's head back to the breast. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind the interference.

Two-year-olds don't come more active than you, My Love! And they also don't come any sweeter.

All My Love,
Mommy