5 Years

 



5 years ago you entered the world

we didn't know if you were a boy or a girl

But that was not the only surprise you had in store

Nope, we realized you weighed a whole lot more

try adding two pounds to the expected seven

and you wonder why I thought that day I'd see heaven

You sure were a tough one to get to come out

it took many a pushes and many a shouts.

Let's be real, your entry was a bit of a nightmare

But as soon as I saw you I was rid of the fear.



 

That first year, it too was a bit wild.

You proved very soon your temper was not mild.

I won't forget Walmart where you screamed and screamed

One woman even stopped me and she was very mean

as she questioned my motherhood and muttered  under her breath

I likely envisioned punching her face to death.

But with your fierce temper came a tender heart

You loved to snuggle and didn't want to be apart

A passionate fellow I was beginning to see

It manifested itself in different ways to me.

Whether throwing a fit that lasted over an hour

or bringing me a bouquet of our lovely weed flowers.

 

 

That next year, well, my mind is a bit blurry

It seems that time moved in quite a hurry.

With a one year old boy and a two year old girl

my life often felt like quite a big whirl

between changing diapers and potty training

I often felt my energy waning.

I'm thankful for cameras that took pictures of wobbly walking

and a video recorder that captured your voice when you started talking

It's also the time when there became a bond

with your sister, of whom you were quite fond.

 

A two year old boy, oh my, there you are.

Your baby days moving a far.

Your passion, still there, and discipline abounded.

Those screams of defiance, I did not like the way it sounded.

But where there was defiance the tenderness followed

holding my hand at the dinner table each time you swallowed.

A big year this was for little old you

a trip to the beach and a role that was new

A big brother you'd be

and you quickly grew up

the day I came home with our newest little pup.

But you handled it well

no jealousy from you

one sister you had, now you had two.

 

 

Three years old and handsome as can be

You've captured my heart with all your intricacies.

You make me laugh with all the funny things you say

You want to hold my hand and I like it that way.

You play outside with your neighborhood friends

hoping that the sunlight won't come to an end.

Your quite the fan of your Thomas the Train big wheel

and it's about this time when swallowing chicken becomes quite the ordeal.

 

 

Four years old and it's here where we see your passions arise

but these passions come as a bit of a surprise.

Mario and Luigi have become your new friends and if I didn't monitor you, the gaming would never end.

Four years old and you also started your first year of CC.

You jumped right in and participated completely.

Puzzles you also love to put together

and jump in puddles after rainy weather.

Four years old and you are starting to shine through

and reveal to all of us just how the Lord made you

 

 

So five year old, here you are, a new year lies ahead

full of new opportunities (and also your new bed).

Reading, soccer, maybe glasses too

are all new things that await you.

Five year old, get excited, at what the Lord has planned

while He uses another year to chisel you into  a fine man.

Mommy's Moment: Growing Pains

 

Goodbye owl.

Goodbye tree.

Goodbye mural that's entertained all three.

Goodbye blue paint

and holes in the wall

from rocking that rocker while giving it their all.

Goodbye tiny mice that watched diapers be changed.

Goodbye shelf with babies' oddities arranged.

Goodbye long nights of rocking and feeding.

Goodbye to the basket of books perfect for nighttime reading.

And goodbye to that crib where each baby layed

And where they often quietly played

Until my drowsy self stumbled on in

only to experience that Christmas morning feeling again

Just to see those three faces filled me with great joy

two sweet little girls and one wonderful little boy

Oh what memories in that nursery were made

memories that surely will never fade

even as the crib has been taken down

and the mural now is covered with a light shade of brown.

It's time to move on, there's more growing to do.

But those first seven years, we won't forget you.

 

 

 

 

 

Snappy

 

It seems that Kate has been getting a lot of air time.

 

So, I had to think of something fast.

 

Like, in a snap.

 

Literally.

 

I have mastered the art of snapping.

 

I'm proud to say I am the first of the Harman siblings to discover the magic of this skill.

 

And, so as not to grow rusty, I snap

 

ALL.THE.TIME.

 

I snap in the bath, I snap when I walk, I snap when I eat, I snap when I talk.

 

I snap.

 

How's that for some exciting news?

 

I'm hoping Mommy will soon allow me to join in on her song creations. Every good singer needs a back-up snapper.

 

 

Your Head Don't Fit

 

Like I've said before, I like to keep Mommy on her toes.

 

We don't need her dulling with age.

 

What better way to do that than by requesting original lullabies?

 

We've moved beyond "Your are my Sunshine" and "I Love You Lord," and have moved to more challenging songs like: "Grandma's Fence," "Papa's Girl," "Eyebrows," "Molly's Doll," "My Doll," "Valarie's Doll," "Hannah's Doll," "Ladybug's Wings," and "House with Bird," just to name a few.

 

Haven't heard of these? You aren't alone. Mommy is required to create these tunes on the spot.

 

She's like Mozart.

 

or

 

Maybe

 

Dr. Seuss.

 

Or Wayne from "Whose Line is it Anyways."

 

 

Well, tonight was no different.

 

You see, I have a doll I don't care for. Simply put, she's got a gimpy toe.

Thanks to Molly.

And in an attempt to alienate her from my crib, her head got stuck.

 

Good enough, I thought.

 

"Her head don't fit," as I told Mommy.

 

"She can't get in."

Which was my goal. Keep her out.

 

And what better way to celebrate that accomplishment than with a song?

 

And thus, a new song was born entitled, "That Head Don't Fit,"  which I threw out to Mommy, who creatively orchestrated some words.

 

And

 

Voila.

 

A new lullaby song that highlights my gimpy toed baby doll who has been exiled from the crib of love.

 

If you're interested in the MP3, we'll be working on that.

Mommy's Moment: Living on the Edge

I celebrated another year this week. And how does a 32 year old get wild and crazy on her birthday? By buying electric green running shoes. Want to know what's crazier (and even more wild)? Not only are they ELECTRIC GREEN, but they are also minimalist running shoes...meaning, well, there ain't much to them. It's close to running, well, barefoot. It's such a change of pace for my running...the past twenty years have been dedicated to finding the most cushion-y shoes possible with the most amount of support.

But when you hit 32, life gets a little crazy...

Just like these shoes that while promising so much, are also the only shoes I've bought that come with a warning:

"may cause damage to your calf, achilles, or...." well I can't remember the other body part that could possibly explode upon lacing.

But I decided to take a risk.

Because one time, twenty five years ago, I didn't take a risk. And, I still think about it.

You see, I was a little behind on my math skills. Mom blames it on the Alabama education, inferior to the previous North Carolina education we were receiving. We were being groomed to become Tar Heels (which none of us ever were).

So, what does any concerned mom do? Call Sylvan Learning Center. Yes, I did go to Sylvan Learning Center.

I don't remember much, except receiving blue tokens for something (getting math answers right, smiling, showing up, I don't know).

Upon receiving so many, I was then allowed to go to the wall of glory. It was delightful. A wall of toys begging to be taken home. And one specific toy caught my eye. It was a Muppet Show art set (or something along those lines). I wanted it. I had enough coins for it.

But, I hesitated.

Was it a wise investment? Already my over-analytical nature was taunting me. Would Mom think it was a good decision? Already my people-pleasing nature was rearing its ugly head (and just for the record, Mom could have cared less if I brought that home).

Then, I saw owl glue. Glue. It's practical. I can use it while also enjoying its creative packaging. It's not like I could pick it up at the local store. 

Owl glue? Muppet art set? Owl glue? Muppet art set?

Against my better judgement (I believe today) I bought...

The owl glue.

I neglected the risk of the Muppet game...to the safer (so I thought) owl glue.

And while the owl glue did an awesome job at...gluing, I always pictured the Muppet set hanging on the wall, sad to have been left behind.

And, twenty five years later, I still regret not living on the edge and exchanging my hard earned tokens for the Muppet set.

And so, at thirty two, I have decided to live on the edge. To forego those "safe(actually, literally)" running shoes and take a risk with my new, electric green, minimalist running shoes.

And if you see me limping, well, you'll know why. Either I have a bum calf or my achilles is destroyed.

But hey,

Here's to living running on the edge!

Life is Hard

Life has been hard lately.

I'm not gonna lie.

And I hope I caught Mommy's attention. I hope she's sorry for all those rants she's thrown my way, especially after her critically acclaimed post, "Molly and Me."

She is. A broken pelvis and a gimpy tail and she's wrapped around my paw.

She feeds me my meds wrapped in cheese (sometimes a marshmallow).

She changes my sheets.

She oh so carefully transports me from my crate to the couch to the outdoors to pee (and poop).

She caresses my ears and my head.

She covers me up when my body shakes uncontrollably.

She takes my crate outside so I can take in the fresh air.

Her words are like honey to my floppy beagle ears.

So, that part is nice. I just didn't realize it would require intense pain that immobilized me to win her over.

I advise any dog out there to never, EVER, follow the lead of a 2 year old. I never, EVER should have taken the freedom Kate sent my way on that fateful Friday morning when she took my leash off of my post.

While that short lived freedom was GLORIOUS as I raced freely through the neighborhood without a care in the world, it left me bed ridden and humiliated with a lamp shade as my new crowing glory.

If you want to shame a dog, put a cone on it.
(oh, oh, oh....)

Try finding a nice place to rest with that monstrosity. Or try having a serious conversation with someone. It ain't gonna happen.

And my tail, it itches. Do you know how bad it is to want to scratch and YOU CAN'T.

So, life is hard. My athletic prowess is waning by the minute as I turn into a couch potato. What dog as seen Because of Winn Dixie (TWICE) and What to Expect When You're Expecting? This is what my life has come to.

Cheese balls laden with meds. Movies. Cones (Elizabethian Cones as they are called). A life behind bars.

This is my life.

Please join Grant in "praying all the time that God would heal me," because, well,

"ain't nobody got time for this."

 

Homeschool Diaries

Homeschooling,

Where do I begin?

Thoughts race through my mind a mile a minute, pretty fitting since that's how I feel homeschooling is moving, a mile a minute while I try to sort through a sea of thoughts.

Another year with CC is coming to an end. I am very thankful for this community and the support it offers. I am thankful how the Lord is using my role to stretch me as I continually find myself out of my comfort zone, the best place to be, it seems, to reveal my inadequacies and my need for Him. I am thankful for the grace He gives me to lead in spite of myself.

I find myself growing even more committed to the classical, Christian model. Actually, I'm pretty pumped about it. And, I may just come off a bit over zealous and weird if you ask me to talk about it. I am most thankful that it is training my children how to think and learn and eventually how to articulately defend what they believe, whether it be about a perspective on a piece of literature or about their faith. The classical model makes sense to me, likely because it complements our natural tendancies in learning.

And some people have asked me lately, why do I homeschool. And my answer to that has been refined over the past two years. My focus was very blurry to begin with as I was uncertain as to what my goals and reasons were in homeschooling. But lately, my focus is more clear and I move foward with much more purpose and confidence. I know many people assume (and possibly a good reason to) that folks homeschool out of fear, fear of what that big dark world will do to their kids. And that's partially true. But I don't homeschool out of fear, it's out of hope. Because, yes, I do want to shelter my kids. I said it. But what's wrong with that? I want to shelter them from an overstimulation of ideas that young impressionable minds are unable to sort through at a young age. I think of homeschooling as a greenhouse, an environment that prepares my kids for the world they will be thrust into.  My kids will be faced with some big stuff (for lack of a better word) and I think it's our job as parents to prepare them for it. I'm not saying therefore every parent should homeschool because I don't think that's true either. But for us, I see homeschooling as the best way to prepare our kids for the world that awaits them. Instead of shielding them from the world, we are preparing them for the world. And as Christians, we are called to teach our kids diligently about the Lord and His world. I find it such a priviledge to get to do that every day with my kids as we learn about His world whether it's through the order of math, the science of His creation, or the beauty of words. For us, the goal of education is to know God and to make Him known (also the mission of Classical Conversations). Lord willing my children will come to know the Lord and I want them to be prepared to defend their faith and engage the culture that grows more hostile toward the Christian faith. Overall, I see this journey as the best way John and I can be good stewards of our children. That perspective has grown vividly sharp over the past several months and has given me greater confidence as I press on in this journey.

On a much lighter note, I've found myself at a crossroads regarding curriculum. I wanted to be that homeschool mom who didn't switch curriculum. Well, cross me off that list. After much debating, I decided to end The Writing Road to Reading primarily because the next step, the spelling notebook, was so confusing and required a lot of brain power to decipher and "ain't nobody got time for that" when you've got a house to run and three kids to oversee. And while I am thankful for the year we invested in that program (and I'll likely supplement Grant's phonics program next year with it), it's time to move to a more simple plan. Thus, thanks to my sister in law's wisdom, Hannah is moving to SRA phonics as well as doing Storytime Treasures through Memoria Press to work on literary skills, spelling, and copywork. Hannah loves it so far. She's starting to read classic books like Little Bear and already I see a confidence growing in her with reading. We'll continue with Saxon math for both kids next year. I like it. I like it alot (thanks Forrest Gump). And buddy Grant will be doing Saxon phonics next year thanks to an awesome deal I grabbed at the local consignment store. He is.fired.up. Grant will be an official kindergartener next year. I can't believe it.

So, those are my very RANDOM homeschool thoughts. I know, all over the board. Homeschool life is plugging along. It's hard. It's tiring. It's demanding. But I do enjoy it. My biggest struggle right now is how to stay awake during read aloud time after lunch. It's bad. Even when I taught in public school I struggled to stay awake. Now that I'm no longer employed in the public school system I can tell you that I dozed off smack dab in the middle of reading a chapter book to my kids. I mean, it was like a 2 second doze. But I did. AND when I was in a reading conference with one of my students right after lunch, I dozed off for a split second. And he caught me. He caught me red handed. He said, "Miss Harman, were you asleep?" And, now, my own kids ask the same thing during read aloud time, "Mom, are your eyes closed?" It's a problem I can't seem to get rid of. I don't drive to see my parents anymore (or try not to) right after lunch because I can't hardly keep my eyes open (it's a three hour drive). I've had to pull off the road before and close my eyes with all three kids staring at me.

So, that's a LONG digression. Look at these pictures of our awesome homeschool days while I close my eyes for a minute. 

To work on Grant's fine motor skills I found some great ideas on Pinterest, like picking up small beads and putting them one by one in an egg carton. I must say, he's doing much better with his pencil grip. Hooray!

 

Hannah working on identifying syllables via Post It notes.

 

Picture sort by identifying pictures that start with certain letters.

 

A conflict of interest, can you spot it in the picture above?

 

Some of us in CC got together and took a trip to the local fire station.

Again, I'm really proud of Grant sharpening his motor skills and working on writing letters. He's proud too.

What I'm Good For

I like to think I'm good for a lot of things.

I'm good for providing a laugh.

I'm good for keeping dental hygiene skills sharp and on point for all the Harman kids. Hey, I would live at the bathroom sink if I could.

I'm good for letting Molly out. REALLY good (though I'm not good at retrieving her).

I'm good for drinking anybody's leftover drink on the table even if they were saving it for later.

I'm also good for cleaning up any leftover goodies that are in reach.

But what I'm most good for, well, I don't want to brag, but, okay, I will, is keeping Mommy's "mommy skills," sharp and in so doing, keeping her humble.

You see, she's slacking off a bit. I'm a third born and well, let's face it, Mommy's "mommy sense" isn't what it used to be. We even had a man stop by the house one day to tell Mommy just that, that, well, she wasn't doing a good job. And, that was my fault. It seems I was, for a brief moment, distracted while walking across the cul de sac (per Mom's permission), with Hannah to see our friends next door. He caught me in the middle of the side street, on my way to my desired destination, have you. And immediately asked where we lived. Mommy heard an earful to which she just nodded, hoping this fine gentleman would see his way back to his car. Yep, that's me sharpening Mommy. Yes, this would not have happened with Hannah. So, I like to think I'm helping Mommy resharpen those skills. You know, keep her on her toes.

And I do. I'm really good for keeping Mommy on her toes. Like any good coach, you remind your athlete there's no time to relax, take a breather, let your guard down. That's poor form. So, I'm Mommy's coach. Just when she's ready to sweep me downstairs after my nap for a few cuddles, she finds me, pants down, dirty diaper in hand and these wise words, "Mommy, I went poo poo" and this time I was happy to be a servant and add, "but I didn't get it on my hands." And I didn't (I learned not to go that far again). I'm just keeping her skills sharp. I know perfect Hannah dared not pull a stunt like this. And Grant, well, he's pulled other stunts but none in this category. And, I want Mommy to be the best Mommy she can be, so, BAM, on the job training third child style. It's what I'm good for.

 

And, I'm pretty good for melting Mommy's heart when I flash my big blue eyes and my, well, I'll just say it, killer smile.

It's also what I'm good for.

 

We Make This Look Good

I know.

 

Don't worry.

 

It's a natural gift.

 

Not everyone can be a stylist.

 

Not everyone knows that a head band can be used as a sweat band.

 

Or that it's okay to accessorize with a bold pattern even if you are already sporting a pink princess patterned pajama set.

 

It's okay.

 

Like I said, it's a natural gift.

 

It just takes that special eye to pair a glittery sequenced vest (compliments of Mommy's eighth grade jazz recital) with yet another, yet totally different, sequenced red, mesh skirt (compliments, yet again, of Mommy's jazz recital).

 

And, please, don't be skeerd to put red and black over a pink dress. It's all good. It's about self expression.

 

Like I said, a good fashion eye runs in the family.

 

I mean, look who I have to get all my style cues from, my big sister. Nothing says confidence like a Fancy Nancy 50's dress combined with a cow head band (yet again, compliments of Mommy's totally awesome dance recital, specifically done to Michael Jackon's introspective hit, Black or White). And then, the winning piece to tie it altogether, the swishy skirt turned hairy headpiece.

 

I aspire to create such an outfit one day.

 

Folks, you just can't pull something like this together unless you, in fact, are gifted at birth with this talent.

And based on Hannah's awesome moves, it looks like a keen fashion eye wasn't all we were blessed with. Watch out world. We're gonna be dropping some mad style and some rad moves on you soon.

 

Homeschooling isn't all about the books.

Mommy's Moment: Molly and Me

Molly.

 

My "lips" have been silent over the past couple of months regarding Molly.

 

At least on the blog.

 

Around the house, well, silent wouldn't quite describe my lips.

 

Not at all.

 

In fact, rage, yes rage might be an emotion I've felt surge through my body a few times when speaking with Molly.

 

It rears its ugly head when she soils the carpet for the fourth time in two hours after having been taken outside multiple times with treats in hand ready to reward positive potty behavior.

 

Or when I find myself witnessing what must have been similar to the Jaws attack, except Molly is Jaws and most often Grant is the poor victim. Until Molly came I never knew Grant's voice could reach such a high pitched squeal.

 

But it can.

 

 

That rage has crept up when I'm trying to get Kate's hair combed to leave for school and there's Molly fiercly pulling my arm away and threatening a new hole in my new sweater.

 

Or when I have accumulated a pile of the kid's clothes now decorated with holes.

 

Or when she shot out of the house like a canon ball in the rain as we were trying to leave. It was the day I actually fixed my hair and put on something other than sweats. Silly me. After finding her two doors down my new white shirt was now muddy thanks to her paws and my hair, well, wet again. I jokingly offered her to our non English speaking neighbor who caught her. Then I realized, he thought I was serious and said, "no, no thank you."

 

Maybe I was serious.

 

 

Yes, this cute dog, did that.

 

preparing for a Jaws attack 

 

Is unconditional love appliciable toward dogs?

 

If so, I've got to work on that.

 

Sometimes I sense our dog came out of the pages of Marley and Me, the only difference, our book will be called Molly and Me.

 

And while I struggle to find patience for our new beloved dog, it seems no one else in our family does.

 

The kids, well, they do adore her. I'll admit, I've put the bug in their ear that we could get rid of her if she's just "too much."

 

Apparently, she's not.

 

And John, well, he's more patient that I.

 

I know, I signed up for this, willingly and whole heartedly. I have no one to blame but myself.

 

It was my idea to add this glorious being to our family.

 

I just didn't realize training a puppy AND three kids, well, isn't as easy as I thought.

Consistency is key.

 

I just didn't realize consistency while homeschooling three kids isn't quite the consistency it takes to train a beagle.

 

But alas, we're pushing through. Okay, I'm pushing through. A baby gate is on the way to block her from her several marked poop zones.

 

You know it's bad when your two year old daughter says on a regular basis, "I smell somvin, I smell poop." which is often followed by a pretty severe gag reflex for a two year old when we finally track the smell down.

 

She has her Daddy's keen sense of smell.

 

And an invisible fence is on it's way as well thanks to my sister.

 

And lots of prayers. Seriously. I've had to repent A LOT to my kids after I've lost it with ol Molly. Trying to teach your kids not to throw fits doesn't go over too well when they see Mommy throwing a full blown adult fit in front of them.

 

Who would have thought the sanctification process would continue to be carried out through a dog?

 

It is in my life.

 

And that's life with Molly. At least my point of view.

 

With a few snuggles and cuddles in between.