February 29th

Happy Leap Day, everyone!

I got roses, a beautiful dozen, and some dark chocolate from my sweetheart today because ... today is the anniversary of our first date! It's been twelve years since that day we sipped hot chocolate in the student union on a rainy day, but we only get to celebrate it on the Actual Day every four years. And we do this instead of Valentine's Day, because it just seems more special and personal.

Our good friend Steve, who recently stayed at our house for a few nights before he could move into his new apartment, offered to watch the kiddos so we could go out for dinner. Now that's what I call generosity. :-) There are so many fabulous places in Austin, not necessarily that expensive but still delish, to choose from ... I think we're going to try a little place called Mandolo's this time, though.

Oh, and I was going to write up this long post about our day at Friday co-op, but something happened afterward that struck me as more blogworthy (or not fit to print, depending on your taste, but you probably wouldn't be reading this blog if you belonged in the latter category): after co-op, we stopped by the library so I could pick up the Herriot books that were on hold for me and the kids could make their selection.

Mistake #1: Taking overtired two-year-old who had missed afternoon nap to the library.
Mistake #2: Thinking that after the FIRST time I took her to the bathroom and she pushed out a poop of impressive size, she was done.

If you can picture an older sister sitting on the potty while the younger one dances around shrieking that she needs to make "another poop!", the mother pleading with the older one to make shorter shrift of her business, the younger one finally getting her chance and doing her own business (clutching her mother's neck for support) while two other patrons open the door (which the mother forgot to lock) for the ONE bathroom in the library, only for the mother to find that part of the business has somehow, without her noticing, ended up on the bathroom floor, and thus on the bottom of the toddler's bright pink Ked, and thus in tracks all over the floor, resulting in the mother's needing to scrub the bathroom floor -- and the shoes! -- with paper towels and hot water, shooing her daughters out the door to stand with the desperate patrons in the hallway, and then needing to shuffle up to the library desk, mumble an apology and a recommendation for Lysol to the librarian (the librarian! with gray hair! and pursed lips!) and have to admit, in answer to said librarian's question, that the mess in question was "Number Two" ... well, you've got the picture just about right.

Once again, Happy Leap Day, everyone. May yours be markedly more fragrant.

He wants his money back

I opened my much-thumbed copy of Creative Sketches for Scrapbooking tonight, determined to finish my layout on our September excursion to Walden Pond in MA. I have to tell you, I scraplift from that book ALL THE TIME (which is to say, all the time that I scrapbook, which is pathetically little, which is why I totally rely on inspiration from others). Why re-invent the wheel when the brilliant Becky Higgins has already done all the work to draw these nifty layouts, to be adapted at one's fancy? She shows a sketch and then shows how she and three or four others designed scrapbook pages from it. Anyway, guess what I saw, at the bottom of the page, in the unmistakable, spindly handwriting of a certain 7 year old?

"I thought there were sketches in here." (WITH QUOTES!)

Dude. So aggrieved.

And so sneaky.

And yet ... so endearing.

To sleep, perchance to dream ...

Here's a quirk of my youngest's personality: throughout her short life, she has gone through phases where she takes at least an hour, often more, to fall asleep (we're talking after the nursing and bedtime stories). We are currently in such a phase. Since she is my third and I have a sense of perspective I didn't have previously, I can be generally hakuna matata about it, except on those nights when we have people over and I would really like to be out there, singing or playing Wise and Otherwise (a game for adults and the most enthused Ian). And, I can make lemonade by using the time to read -- big bonus. Sometimes I suspect my being in the room with her is actually preventing her from settling, but if I leave, she cries, and I'm not a fan of letting kids cry themselves to sleep.

Any thoughts from the gentle-parenting peanut gallery?

Book/Movie Recommendations

For our most recent Family Movie Night, we picked a winner, thanks to a recommendation in Wondertime magazine (which I love, it's like the perfect niche-filler between Mothering and Family Fun). First, you must know that our kids are by way of being somewhat nuts about the story of Robinhood. They've read at least one book about it, listened to the story on CD dozens of times, watched the Disney version two or three times, you get the pic. So, we procured, from Netflix, the 1938 version, starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland. It had just the right amount of swashbuckling and swordfighting for Ian and just the right amount of everything else for Eliza (and the rest of us). And the right amount of foul language and, uh, innuendo. That is to say, zero. They don't make family movies like this anymore! A delight.

I also just finished reading James Herriot's Every Living Thing -- and I have to say, how did I miss out on Herriot for all these years? I'm not even an animal person, but I adored this book! Can't wait to go back to the beginning and start with All Creatures Great and Small.

Oh, and an unrelated weekend highlight: while Tim and Ian biked down to the Regional Science Fair, where Ian had a project on display (don't look at me -- his science teacher at co-op arranged the whole thing! Ian just had to talk about it to the judges -- oh to be a fly on the wall for that one!), and Caroline took a marathon nap, Eliza and I got to spend some lovely mother-daughter stamping time on Saturday. We made birthday cards for my dear friend Vanessa, who's turning 30 this week, and for my MIL. May I strut my stuff? I'm a novice, and I shamelessly plagiarize ideas from SplitcoastStampers, but I really like how this came out!

Being Blended

This morning as I was reading my Bible, I came across some lines in my study guide that talked about how in our service to God, we need to overcome individualism. In other words, God cannot be satisfied with our serving Him or even being righteous or pious, all in an individual way. He wants us to learn to coordinate with others, to be blended together -- which can be hard when we'll all emphasizing our own gifts. I asked the Lord how this applies to me in my own situation, since most of my service to Him consists in the things I do day in and day out with my own children, and it really is just me -- not a whole lot of opportunity to coordinate with others. Besides, the world around us really admires "Renaissance people," as our listening to the story of Leonardo Da Vinci today reminded me -- now that man was a genius at practically everything!

So I had a tiny experience later today that struck me as bit of an answer. Lately I've sort of been outsourcing more of our homeschooling (Anne, your post really struck a chord!) by participating in two different co-ops -- one on Monday, which we've done for five semesters now, and, mostly recently, one on Friday, which requires full parent participation (i.e., it's not a drop-off thing, as is Monday). The Friday thing is different in several ways, and I'm starting to enjoy the sense of community it engenders (plus, Ian gets to take a class on The Dangerous Book for Boys), but I'm always exhausted by the end of the day! Anyway, during the first of our three class periods today, I was assisting in Eliza and Caroline's class, called "Storytime, Circle and Craft." The mom who teaches is very sweet, very mild-mannered, and I have to admit that a part of my mind was critiquing her style a bit -- I felt she could stand to be a bit more, um, dramatic or engaging with the kids. Well, during storytime she asked me to read the book while she nursed her baby, and ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you, that was my moment! I mean, storytime is totally my thing. I love to read/tell stories (and this one was a typed one with no pictures) in a way that pulls the kids in as much as possible. I like to use different voices for the different characters, stop and ask the kids questions, make silly faces, whatever, even if I know I may be making a fool of myself! And it felt good, because lately I've been so aware of all the things I CAN'T do.

So maybe, maybe, there was a teensy bit of pride going on there too. I knew -- may I be embarrassingly frank? -- that I read the story "better" than the other mom would have. But then we turned to finger-knitting. She got out the yarn, gave each kid, plus the moms, a stretch of it, and gently, patiently, began instructing us. I was all thumbs! Eventually I got the hang of it, but trying to teach it to Eliza, it took me all of thirty-five seconds and I was impatient and flummoxed. How do you TEACH something like that? "You just wrap it around like THIS and hold this do-hickey like THAT ..." Yeah, not so much. The other mom took over and in her sweet, mild way had Eliza hooked, and chugging along in no time.

Let's just say I'm glad we all have our different gifts, there's a reason we have one another, and none of us has to be Leonardo!

But then ...

... he comes to me tonight and says, as he sometimes does, "Mom? Do you want to come read with me in my room?"
"You mean we both read our own books or I read to you?"
"We can read our own books [he's in the middle of Redwall]. And talk and just, you know, have like a date, like you-and-me time."

I defy anyone to resist a request like that!

Blah

I'm feeling kinda discouraged, and as opposed to my usual custom of proposing longwinded posts about it in my head and then feeling too exhausted by nighttime (which is when I can usually get time to post) too get into it, I'm going to steal the 5 minutes I have right now to get SOMETHING out.
I just wish, as I do more often than I'd like to admit, that I felt more successful as a homeschooler. That we had more "good" days instead of days when I constantly question my fitness for this position. What are "good" days, you ask? What is successful? OK, successful means that all the children, except possibly Caroline, are present when I call them to lessons (the first time!) and are eager and engaged in what we're doing. And really, I don't ask much. We spend a mere sliver of our day in structured academics, and even that is often done casually and, in my view, with plenty of interaction and variety (example: math baseball in the yard; short grammar lessons, reading Ian's favorite Usborne Illustrated Encyclopedia of World History, copywork that I make easy for him by letting him trace my handwriting, etc.) But so often, I feel like I'm just barely managing to hang onto him, like he'd rather do anything else. He knows not to give me a BAD attitude about it, but how I would love a genuine enthusiasm for what we're doing. The only time I truly feel the vibe is when I'm reading a good book aloud or we're doing the occasional craft. So should I only do those things? No "vegetables," so to speak, but only chicken nuggets and dessert??? I so want to inspire a LOVE of learning, not the attitude that learning is a chore, a grind, a power struggle with Mom -- after all, that's one main reason we're homeschooling! Sigh. Double sigh.

I have prayed about this a lot and just don't have a clear idea of how the Lord is leading us. On the other hand, there is a ray of hope -- Eliza loves whatever I suggest to her! (Well, learning-wise, that is. Not so much the putting of dishes into the dishwasher.)

I'm sure we'll revisit this theme later ... but it's time for the biweekly scramble to taekwondo.