My Little Pony Party

For Hannah's 7th Birthday Party we did My Little Pony.

 

On the agenda we designed our own ponies, face painted a cutie mark on each girl, played pin the tail on the pony, made our own lip gloss and gathered candy from her own My Little Pony pinata.

 

And of course, had cake and opened presents.

 

The highlight for me was when my neice, Allie, thought the cake came from Publix. Sure, she's eight, but I'll take the compliment!

We also used ribbon to make our own pony manes. The girls picked one off of the fireplace screen upon arriving.

 



 

The beautiful birthday girl.

 

For favors I put their own lip gloss kit (small bead container and a pack of Kool-Aid, minus the petroleum jelly) in their own My Little Pony cup.

 

As always, the party was a bit chaotic (12 girls or so) but when I asked Hannah if she had fun and her face lit up and she said, YES! Then I know it was all worth it!

Just Like They Said

Hannah,

She was the reason I started this blog almost seven years ago. She gave me the name, mother.


She looked like this:

 

 

And I looked starry-eyed.

 

And while every newborn season is tough, each morning coming into her room was like Christmas morning. The long night, nursing woes, and new mommy inadequacies faded as I stared as this precious gift.

 

Seven years ago, this was you.

 

People told me how fast time would go and how quickly you would grow up.

 

And then, in a blink of an eye, just like they said, this was you one year later:

 

 

 



Tiny and petite, reserved, and my constant companion, but not for long. You were already gaining a new companion who was growing inside of me.

And just like that, in a blink of an eye, just like they said this was you:

 

2 years old and a big sister. In an instant you were no longer a baby, though looking back, you most certainly were. But you made the big sister role look easy. You loved Grant from the day he came home.

 

And just like they said, another year QUICKLY passed by and you were no longer a toddler.

 

 

We survived potty training and the "terrible twos" which weren't so terrible. And sailed into another beautiful year. Your personality began to reveal a much more outgoing side. You showed an eagerness to make new friends as the "social" you began to bloom.

 

And, just like that, just like they said, another year passes in a blink of an eye.

 

And you are four

 

 

 

 and due to be a big sister a second time in a few weeks. You danced your way into the four's, literally. You had a ballerina party. And so began the "extra-curricular" activities stage of life. You began taking dance lessons. I believe you enjoyed the social aspect of it more than the actual dancing. You once told me you wanted to quit because Miss Anna made you raise your leg too high and it hurt.

 

And then, just like that, just like they said, in an instant, you were five.

 

 

 

I think your legs started to sprout here and that preschool look turned into a little girl look. Taken from the lines from my favorite children's book, your legs "sprouted like two string beans." We started homeschooling officially. That decision that I kept saying I had years to decide, well, just like your age, it crept up so quickly. And now, we were doing it, me and you, hitting the books and starting a whole new adventure together, kind of like your Dora Adventure party.

And just like that, just like they said, in an instant, this was you:

 

6 years old. First grade. You'd stay outside all day if I let you. You're reading, but not enthusiastically. But you're teaching me about patience and repentance. And we cap the year off with you first lost tooth.

 

And just like that, just like they said, in a flash, this IS you:

 

 

7 years old today.

 

You are sweet. You are shy in large groups but outgoing in small ones. You enjoy making new friends. You can be dramatic and overly concerned about what to wear. Let's face it, you change outfits throughout the day. You are eager to help. You love your siblings but at times can be dramatic, did I already mention that? You thrive on affection and encouragement. It's like water to a listless vine. You love to give and that is something I am cautious not to squelch, even if it is something I would rather you not give away. You are becoming a more confident reader. You have a very quarky sense of humor and an infectious laugh. You are a nurturer.

 

They were right, you DO grow up so fast. It takes my breath away to know that as fast as the first seven years have passed, so shall the next seven years go. In seven years you will be fourteen.

 

It's a sweet reminder for me to slow down and drink you in. To gaze at you a little longer so that moment will stay stamped in my memory even if it passes on in time. It's a reminder for me to let go of the unimportant things that seem so pressing: email, Facebook, sweeping a hundredth time that day, or a mindless tv show. It's a reminder to be intentional and purposeful in what I say to you and what I teach you. For you are precious. You are worth every minute of my time at home. The Lord gave you to me and I am challenged daily to be a good steward of you because you ultimately belong to Him. And you will look back and see the many times I have failed you. There are times at night after a rough day I want to crawl into bed with you and hold you, to erase the failures I made that day with you. But I pray that through my failures you see the gospel. You see that I am not perfect and I am a sinner just like you. That I need Jesus DAILY and that His forgiveness covers a multitude of sin. I pray that at least in my failures, by His grace, I point you to Him. And I pray you will find refuge in Him.

 

I love you Hannah.

 

Happy Seventh Birthday!

 

 

 

 

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Here I sit. It's 1:03 am. I'm in the spare bedroom with Kate, Hannah, and our dog, Molly. We are also accompanied with three changes of clothes, a plethora of "Tuff Stuff," red Gatorade and new stains on the carpet and Futon as well as a grocery sack full of paper towels and tissues.

I crawled into bed about an hour and half ago and yet, here I sit.

As soon as I tucked myself in for a restful sleep, Kate began hacking up a terrible storm. I'll spare you the details but it was alarming and, well, gross. And having Hannah sharing a room with Kate, I thought it best to move this show down to the only "quiet" room in the house, the spare room downstairs.

Except, Molly stays there.

So in the midst of major coughing, dry heaving, crying and gross stuff I manage to move Molly and her crate to the den.

Tissues and paper towels abound as I try to...well...help with the coughing.

Moments later the door opens and Hannah joins the party. "Afraid" to sleep alone, she suddenly becomes my greatest asset as the storm thickens.

Molly begins to cry. And what I was trying to spare the rest of the house from enduring with the loud coughs of Kate was being thwarted by a very noisy dog. Mind you, our house is VERY open with little reprieve from noise, except, of course, in the spare bedroom.

Thus,

Hannah retrieves Molly and presto, another observer to this little chaotic mess.

That gets messier as Kate begins to vomit. All over me and all over her.

Hannah then makes a mad dash to get new clothes for Kate while I wipe her down and ward Molly off from doing what dogs do.

In the next several, several minutes Kate vomits more, I change her again thanks to a second run by Hannah for more clothes and I proceed to douse the room in Tuff Stuff stain remover in hopes to erase any long lasting memories of this night.

Except there's one that likely won't be erased as Molly jumped up on the dresser where Kate's RED Gatorade was sitting and dumped it all over the floor. Tuff Stuff, round three.

I'm left with two girls who don't want to leave my side and thus I pull out the Futon for a restful place to lay. In so doing I unintentionally reveal my hiding place for Christmas presents to which Hannah's mouth drops wide open.

And here we sit. Praying this is the calm AFTER the storm and for a few hours of shut eye before a new day begins. And so I bid you adieu as I crawl back into bed but this time with two girls, a dog, and the smell of Tough Stuff permeating the room.

You just can't make this stuff up.



P.S. to credit John, I intentionally did not wake him because if one of us can sleep then he might as well since he's got to get up early and do hard labor. And I unexpectedly got Hannah out of the deal who proved to be quite the enthusiastic helper since it meant being awake at midnight!

Mommy's Moment: The Jumpy

You know that moment. That moment when you have to just let go. Let your children experience life on their own. You know they'll get pushed. Their patience will be tested. They may fall. Another child may hurt them. They'll be tempted to lose their temper. They'll have to fend for themselves. Tears very likely will be involved.

 

But sometimes you just have to take a step of faith and let them go...

 

let them get on that jumpy.

 

You know, the one that looks like this:

 

 

 

Where scared kids, impatient kids, overly confident kids, and kids who just want to slide down all get jammed up at the top in a jumpy jam.

 

And all we can do is cajole. Encourage the scared one down. Advise that jumpy hog to get off. Remind that impatient one it will soon be their turn. Even the fierce skull tattooed elbow dad stood helpless as we all watched the jumpy jam explode.

 

But our kids learn how to be patient and how to watch out for their team.

 

And how to make new friends. Or protect each other from bullies. I'm not quite sure what was happening here.

 

Making friends, we'll go with that.

 

 

And in the chaos our kids learn how order promotes the best experience.

 

Our kids also learn that when one kid just doesn't want to take one more step forward, it's really hard for an adult to scale up the jumpy for relief. Even if they look down at you with big wide eyes just waiting for you to take action. But you stand helpless. Therefore, it's time for that 8 year old sibling to step up and carry her the rest of the way only to push her down the extremely high slide.

Hey,

 

Who needs a character building book when you have a jumpy?

 

 

Experiencing "the jumpy" is a crash course on the hard knocks of life.

 

It's a survival of the fittest at its best.

And so, when I saw my three disappear into this obstacle of a jumpy:

 

 

I hoped they'd come out in one piece on the other side.

 

It's an accomplishment if you can come out of this with a smile:

 

 

  I am proud my kids survived the kids three times their size walloping over them and pushing large air filled tubes in their faces.

 

I think they may be ready for Wipeout.

 

Or maybe not.

 

They didn't venture back in.

 

But like every challenge in life, there's always the silver lining.

 

And the jumpy teaches us that too.

 

 

 

Life is tough and bittersweet. And if anything can prepare your child for that fact, it's the jumpy.

 

 

 

 

 

Mommy's Moment: Here I Go Again

Minneapolis, Miami, Dallas, Memphis, Washington D.C., Kansas City, Chattanooga, Atlanta, Greensboro, Asheville, Statesboro, Cocoa Beach, New Orleans, Charleston...

 

Just a few cities on my list I've traveled to during my childhood.

 

And while each city possesses unique characteristics, they all share one thing, soccer.

 

At least for me.

 

 

Vacations and soccer. Like peanut butter and jelly for our family.

 

But, I never played soccer.

 

And yet, I've managed to attend more games than most non soccer players in cities all over the country.

 

My sisters, well, they were talented soccer players. And so, we traveled.

 

And memories were made.

 

We traveled on a tour bus to Minnesota. I listened to the Cocktail cassette on my Walkman while looking at the lights as we drove through St. Louis. It was in Minnesota I remember my mom talking to my late Grandma about seeing a doctor regarding Alzheimers.  On a brighter note my sister's team won the tournament. We had Subways as we pulled out of the parking lot after a late game to begin the LONG ride home. It was on the way home that the bus broke down. In the middle of the night. In the middle of nowhere. At a B.P. Station. A soccer ball is likely still sitting on the roof of that gas station.

 

We drove to Cocoa Beach, FL where my sister was at a soccer camp, ODP camp (Olympic Development Camp). Mom got us a surfer troll doll and surprised us with it on our beds at the hotel that was close to the beach. When I hear about Ron Jon's Surf Shop and shuffle boards I think of Cocoa Beach.

 

We stayed with old friends in Washington D.C who took us around the historical sites in between games. I remember the cobblestone streets in Alexandria. I also remember missing school for this one. Always a bonus. This tournament usually occurred around Columbus Day.

 

The pool at the hotel we stayed at in Memphis (we came here a few times I think) was an indoor/outdoor pool where you swim under the wall to get outside (or inside). It was the highlight of that tournament (for me at least).

 

In Miami I had the unfortunate experience of watching a overly tan man in a thong stretch in the middle of the beach. On a more positive note, I also bought my first cd, The Bodyguard soundtrack, in Miami. I also remember the bright colors of the art deco buildings.

 

Kansas City was hot.

 

So was New Orleans, and a bit shady. We quickly passed Bourbon Street.

 

Atlanta, well, it was almost like a second home then. Each Sunday during soccer season we drove to Atlanta so my sisters' team could play other girls' teams. There just weren't any at the time in Alabama. So yes, we drove to Atlanta. It became a very familiar drive. I remember the Top Hatters and Cobb Union. I remember a Marriott next to a Hooters. I remember riding home from Atlanta and having to go to the bathroom the WHOLE time. So when my kids say they can't hold it, I say, oh yes you can. I have. I did. And I totally get now why Dad didn't like to stop.

 

And in between these tournaments I remember steel bleachers, blankets sprawled out with My Little Ponies, Peanut Butter and Jelly books, playing "school" in the van, sunburns, cheering, squeezing three kids in the hotel bed, van rides, music (where I got my in depth exposure to all the great oldies), an icecream cone water bottle, continental breakfasts, soccer t shirts and pins, honeysuckles during practice and pizza and coke (the beginning of a beautiful friendship) after Friday night practices, just to name a few of the memories.

 

And after my sisters left for college, more games were attended as they both had successful college years playing soccer and then again when my oldest sister became the women's soccer coach for Georgia Southern.

 

It's only been in the past two years that the soccer excitement came to a complete stop.

 

Until, last Tuesday.

 

And this little guy picked up the baton.

 

 

 

Or shall I say, soccer ball?

 

And just like that, I find myself here again.

 

 

 

 

And here

 

 

And, as much as I complained about going to another soccer game, I enjoyed it. It was a big part of my childhood. And so to walk back onto a soccer field and become a spectator again was a little taste of home.

 

And so,

 

Here I go again.

 

 

 

 

 



Homeschool Diaries: First Day of School

Despite feeling a little unprepared, we jumped in and plunged deeply into school.

Hello 2nd grade. Hello Kindergarten. Hello very busy little Kate.

Breathe.

As I've said, this has been a busy summer and I wanted everything "perfect" for their first day of school. I wanted a perfect plan that proved fail proof. One that would ensure no more crying fits at the table. One that would inspire Hannah to read, read, read. One that would keep Kate busily occupied as the older two dig in. And one that promised an effective plan to include two school-aged children instead of one.

But, as the kids went to sleep last night and I took a crash course on their lessons for today, I realized perfection was far off.

And I was okay.

Can I repeat that?

I was okay.

It hit me that it's okay if today is a bit "messy." I mean, shouldn't it be when you bring in a new schedule, young kids, and, today, a toddler with a 104 degree fever? It would be silly for me to expect a plan to work perfectly. There's freedom in starting the school year expecting tweaks to be made all along the way. And, after today, tweaks will be made. I am not a slave to a "perfect" schedule. Freedom.

And so, we jumped.

And it started great. I want to make their first day special. Being at home, they miss out a bit on the "back to school" excitement and so I like to create a bit of that in our own home. I was so thankful it worked. I had a "back to school" surprise: a small water bottle, crayons, watercolors, pencil holders and cases and dry erase pencils. I was happy to hear Hannah exclaim: "This is the best back to school day ever!"

Victory.

And to start the day I let them break in their watercolors and paint a self portrait. And while their portraits were, well, small, they had fun.

And then, the messiness that homeschooling can sometimes be, began.

Thankfully, some time in prayer this morning was a sweet reminder of my need for the Lord as we venture into another year. I do pray that the Lord would provide (as He promises) a way out when I'm tempted to respond poorly to my kids' frustrations. And as Proverbs 3:5-6 says "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path." I often do not acknowledge Him when I'm frustrated and tempted to respond poorly and instead jump into what I think is right...but it is not...my own sinful response to my kids. But it says when I do, when I turn my mind to Him and acknowlege Him and trust what He says, He will direct my paths. So my prayer this school year is that the Lord would bring this verse to my mind and equip me with the discipline and self control to stop, acknowledge Him and His ways and cling to the promise He will direct my path, one away from sinful selfishness and frustrations.

And that's a long sidenote. It seems homeschooling and parenting really bring out the worst in me and the Lord is using these as tools to refine me...and I'm a slow learner.

Hannah's first day was overall smooth. We had some speed bumps when she realized she had to do her math facts this year ON HER OWN while I worked with Grant. So, I pulled out some incentive for her to memorize them and complete her page in less than a minute. I don't know what the incentive will be, but she is on board and working those flashcards. I did not do well last year at making her memorize her facts and so that is a goal I set for us this year: to memorize all her facts and to be able to recite them quickly.

Her attitude was good overall. I am thankful. I think her attitude naturally feeds off of mine, another reason for me to hold my tongue more often and to grow in patience as she learns.

Grant's first day was relatively good as well. He's having a hard time with the fact he can't play Mario during school time. And he hates to write, a big problem when it comes to school. I had to explain that almost everything will require making some sort of "mark." And when we practiced, tears were shed. This will be an area I need a lot of grace and patience in. He still struggles to hold his pencil well. It's better than it was, but still a struggle. Other than this one major obstacle, he did well. He enjoyed his math and reading lessons.

And Kate, bless her. She woke up with a fever. It was last August all three came down with a high fever and kept us out of CC for two weeks. Over the course of three weeks we were stuck at home nursing fevers. Hannah's reached 106 degrees. I'm praying this is not a repeat of last summer. If you think about it, I'd appreciate your prayers there too. Kate's is high...104...but I think my kids just get high fevers. They act relatively fine. So today was mostly spent watching Dora on the tv and napping. My goal for her is to have activities for her to do independently in the morning during math time. My idea today bombed, but she also had a fever.

So, that's enough chatter. And if you've made it this far, you're a good friend. Ha! I'll leave you with a few pictures of our first day and of the little faces I am very thankful to get to spend my days with, even if it is very hard. They are a blessing and it's a priviledge to be able to teach them.

Music to Our Ears

 

When you can't breathe, life is tough.

 

It took a bad allergy flair up for Mommy to cave in and take me back to the ENT, the one we visited when I was three.

 

Since then I've lived for

 

TWO LONG YEARS of nasal inflammation.

 

And it seems my nasal passages were completely, completely closed.

 

No air moving in, no air moving out.

 

I'll admit, it wasn't always that bad, but thanks to something in the air the night before, my nose was, well, unusable.

 

Mommy felt bad.

 

Real bad.

 

So with some serious steroids (don't worry, not the beef you up kind), Claritin, and Flonase I was excited to announce:

 

"Mommy, listen to this..." as I inhaled and exhaled several times. "Do you hear the air?"

 

It was music to our ears.

 

Nose music.

 

 

A Fun Loving Gal

I'm a fun loving gal.

 

So when Mommy agreed to mismatched princess heels, my favorite plastic puppy, a dress stained with orange Fanta, and a hairstyle that was free flowing, I was estatic.

 

Sure, I may have been mistaken for an orphan, but hey, this is me, a beautiful mess.

 

And may I brag on my pup?

He was so well behaved at Kirklands, a little noisy, but well behaved.

 

Obviously he's been trained by Ceasar Milan.

Notice how he manages to walk behind me? He knows I'm the pack leader.

Molly could use some pointers here.

 



 

However, like any good looking pair of heels, they can begin to hurt. So, upon entering Hobby Lobby (our next destination), I did what any three year old kid who rides in a van with other siblings does, I swapped them out for another pair of shoes. We all know the van is a great place for storing shoes.

 

 

This is what I came up with: faded purple boots. And while it looks as though pup is going to stay behind on this trip, think again. I'm not getting charged with cruelty to animals. But in all seriousness, he would have been better behaved in the van on this trip. Upon entering Hobby Lobby he made quite a scene when he would not walk correctly, and, consequently, so did I.

 

I could have been mistaken for one of those brats on Toddlers and Tiaras. There's nothing like having one of your own put you in your own bad mood.

 

After Mommy sternly reigned me back in so did I to my pup...all the way in to Mommy's purse.

 

So for the rest of our visit I managed to wind down with a little dancing to the Hobby Lobby music in my purple rain boots, stained Fanta dress, wild hair, and uninhibited style.

 

Mommy's Moment: Busyness, Summer, and Sin

Here I sit at the precipice of a new school year.

Though public school kicks into gear tomorrow, our homeschool will begin in two weeks. But, nonetheless, the next two weeks will be spent in major preparation for the school year.

So, we say goodbye to a very full summer. Full of change, full of quick trips, full of swimming, full of friends, full of life and full of struggle.

This past summer marks the busiest of my adult life.

In fact, it seems as though I never quite caught my breath. It seems one quick trip with John bled into a busy week at a Classical Conversations practicum which turned into a Yurt excursion just before our several trips to the swimming pool while rearranging four rooms that ended with meetings for Classical Conversations followed by another quick trip to a lake that merged into a quick trip home as my mom wrestled with some health issues (all is well, praise the Lord) where I returned to take part in the tearing up of carpet and laying down of hardwood just before we had guests from Thailand come and stay with us (so encouraged to have them) right before our Classical Conversations community begins to ramp up with Open House meetings and the first day of school and all the while dealing with the everyday life of just living with three kids while John has stayed amazingly busy (praise the Lord) trying to keep up with the abundance of work that the Lord has provided.

And just as that sentence found no good place to stop, so did our summer. One week quickly melted into another until finally, here I sit trying to gather myself and reflect on "what just happened?"

And I realize many people live busy lives, much busier than our's. But I'm never a fan of busy. And perhaps it's because I found that in the "busy-ness" of our summer I became extremely irritated at my kids as they couldn't keep up with rush of life. I lost my cool several times this summer because shoes weren't on the feet fast enough or someone accidentally let Molly out which turned into a "Catch Me if You Can," game. Or hearts needed tending to or discipline rendered. It all got in the way of plans, plans, plans. I didn't like it. And in turn, I responded poorly. While this summer was full of busy, it was also full of sin, my sin.

It's a kind of summer where I've seen that I am more sinful than I dared imagine. My heart is selfish. I've had to go to my kids a lot to apologize for being unkind, hasty, inconsiderate, just plain mean. If you want to see your sin, have kids. Have a few. Put them all in the back seat of your vehicle and drive several hours somewhere. Then, tell me what you're thinking and feeling.

As a mom, I've been desperate this summer. Desperate for the Lord. And while I haven't always been diligent in seeking the Lord, I know that my desperation heightens my understanding of how much I need Him, that I can't do it on my own. There are days my kids need protection from ME, from my sinful nature and responses, whether it's through an unkind word or harsh tone. My only Hope is Jesus.

And I was reminded this morning by a timely sermon that this is a GOOD place to be, in a place of desperation where you know your only Hope is the Lord. If I don't realize my heart is sinful and prone to wander then I don't realize my great need for Christ, who alone rescues me from that sin and through His Holy Spirit enables me to fight it.

And while I am not a proponent of "busy-ness" I know that as a homeschooling mom of three, I will be busy. And I can't continue in my sinful pattern of irritability and frustration. It's dishonoring to the Lord, to my husband, to my kids. And so as I reflect on lessons I'm learning this summer I realize that 1) I want to be busy with the right things and only a few things 2) I want to be desperate for my Lord in the midst of those things 3)I want to seek Him daily for His strength to fight the sin that I am prone to in those things.

And I know I will fail. But the greatest news is my Lord did not. Praise the Lord it is Christ's perfect obedience that saves me. And that when I fail, I can come to Him freely to repent and I know that I am forgiven because it is not my works that save or my lack thereof that now condemn me. Jesus is mine and His perfection is now my perfection. He took my wrath for my sin and suffered it for me.

Hallelujah! May THAT be what overflows into the lives of those around me.

More of Him and less of me.