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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red Rover for Dummies

Our first multi-sibling post here giving you some important Red Rover tips.

 

Kate:  If you're going to play, play with style. That way, if you go down, at least you look good. And let's face it, I'm going down. Though I'm the heftier of the Harman clan, I'm still lacking in the strength and speed department, vital components to a competitive game of Red Rover. So, when all else fails, wear beads.

Grant here with my tip: Run fast. As fast as you can. If you're the only boy, then definitely, definitely give it all you've got. You don't want to give the male race a bad name.

 

And, more importantly, try to steer clear of getting clothes-lined. Always, ALWAYS, run toward the arms that are from the shortest people. I learned this lesson the hard way.

 

And finally, take some advice from me, Hannah, pick out the strongest players and stick with them. Irene and Rachel proved to be the best teammates with the strongest arms. Link arms with them and you're set. What can I say, wisdom comes with age.

Six Flags over LG

We love boxes.

And boxes on a grassy hill, well, that's like having Six Flags in our own backyard.

Okay, you're right, we've never been to Six Flags...BUT...I can't imagine it being any more exciting than this...

 

the rush of the box sliding fiercely against the dormant grass as it sends you flying down the hill only to come to a terrificly dramatic stop as it skids on the concrete below.

 

You can only hold on tightly and hope for a safe landing.

 

The anticipation takes your breath away.

 

The exhiliration leaves you wanting more (and sometimes with grass in your hair).

 

 And the jubilation creates an insatiable desire for more.

 

Yep, it sounds like Six Flags, except it's free and promises an unending supply of rides.

 

I'd say nothing beats it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Deepest Apologies

Mommy told me I needed to apologize.

For a few things.

First,

I must apologize for calling you, "boobs." I know, you're laughing right? Because it's funny. But, alas, I must apologize because to many I think it must be offensive. I'm sure it's so not politically correct either. But hey, I said it once and Hannah and Grant laughed. So did Mommy and Daddy. So, like any good comedian, when you've managed to make a good joke, you use it again and again.

But, like every good thing, it must come to an end. And so here, I must bid it adieu.

Secondly,

If I've ever managed to lick you, I apologize. As stated in my previous apology, this too proved to be valuable material to work with, meaning, it created laughs, lots of them.

But, someone always gets hurt. And so, I apologize if it has ever offended you or just, you know, grossed you out. I will try my best to hold in my, tongue.

Thirdly,

While I use "chubby" as a term of endearment, most of the world apparently does not. So, if I've grabbed your cheeks and rocked your face from side to side while saying "chubby," and you were at great offense to that, I apologize. Or if I said, "you chunky," in a husky voice, I apologize. Mommy taught me that. And we laughed and laughed. But now, she is making me apologize. Apparently I crossed the line somewhere. I'm not sure where.

Fourthly,

If you've seen me pantless, I apologize. Honestly, pants hinder my high heels, my princess high heels. I trip on them. So, the logical thing to do is to rid myself of the endangerment. Thus, I forego the pants. Saftey first, right? But, as usual, pantless outfits doesn't go real well in the outside world. So, if I offended you, I apologize. I was just trying to get my Tina Turner on.

And finally,


If you are a part of PETA, and found my dog handling skills, well, not up to par, I apologize. Please, please, don't take away my Molly. I'm the closest thing she has to a mom. She needs me. Like with every new mom, cut me some slack. This is all so very new to me.

 

And with that, I believe I'm done, though I'm sure to be back with more apologies per Mommy's request. Until then, just realize, I'm two and have two older siblings who strong arm me into doing and saying most things, so any beef you have with me, take it up with them.

Homeschool Diaries: Thoughts

So, I think it's been awhile since I've written anything about homeschooling.

And I'm sure you're on the edge of your seat waiting for my thoughts!

We've taken the typical "Christmas Break" to enjoy the season and for me, to regroup.

It seems I'm learning a lot, and I'm hoping the kids are too. (ba, ba, bummm...)

People ask me how's homeschooling going...

and there is no "cookie cutter" answer to sum up how it's going.

It's hard, it's frustrating, it's exciting, it's rewarding, it's mundane, it's a priviledge, it's overwhelming, it's flexible, it's a pleasure...

And catch me on different days and you'll get different answers, but that's with anything, right?

For me, homeschooling is forcing me to face a lot of sin, whether it's people pleasing or control or impatience or pride. I've lost my cool with Hannah a few times lately out of frustration. And I realized a lot of that frustration stems from pride, the root of all sin, right? I want her to excel, and that's good. But I find myself wanting that in order to prove to others that homeschooling kids are successful and I AM doing a good job. And when we hit a bump in the road, my pride takes a dive. And that's just me being bluntly honest. And it's sin. And I've had to repent, a lot. I've had to again and again let go of worrying about what others think about our choice of education for our kids and the typical stereotype that gets applied to them.

And, I am. Step by step. I don't hesitate anymore when I tell people we homeschool or make comments like, "for now," or "we're trying it out," in hopes to ease the blow a bit. And it seems again the Lord has a sense of humor because, no lie, when we visit our neighborhood Publix, I have to remind the check out lady EVERY TIME, that we homeschool after she makes comments to my kids like, "why aren't you in school?" or "are you playing hookie?" or "do you go to school?" Nor do I feel the need to explain the flexibility that homeschooling provides, such as being able to hit the grocery store at 10:00 am while still having plenty of time for reading and math.

And, as silly as this sounds to most, it's a good way for me to let go of people pleasing, by telling people we homeschool. And I do pray the Lord will break me more and more of that ugly sin because honestly, if I feel uneasy sharing that we homeschool, how much more uneasy could I feel sharing that I am a follower of Jesus Christ? And I am guaranteed to be ridculed and denied for that. So, I see the Lord even using this facet of my life to reveal that sin and slowly break me of it and the need to win people's approval. And so I welcome it.

As for the kids, they are learning and I have to actually remind myself of that on days I feel frustrated. I'm still waiting for Hannah to L.O.V.E reading. She is reading and getting better and better every time she reads a new book. And that's just plain exciting. And I'm hoping soon she'll pick up a love for it. Right now she mainly just does it when I tell her too though she gets fired up when she can read signs and words on cereal boxes and juice boxes (and other things too). Her handwriting has improved tremendously over the year.

We've been doing The Writing Road to Reading and I'm still a fan. I'll admit, it's tedious and I had to buy the newest edition of the book because the older edition was a bit confusing. And, the newest one is still a bit too. I still like the system and am still committed to it, though as I read through the book I feel like I'm back in college reading one of my text books. Thankfully I enjoy learning about teaching and the whys behind the methods.

Hannah has learned all of the phongrams (I believe seventy or so) and we are soon starting a spelling notebook. I'm excited about that. Not so sure she is.

We are doing Saxon math. I like it. But it's here where my frustration came to a head. Subtraction, something I well remember not excelling at when I was little, has proven to be the same with my little Hannah. And trying to explain that 4-1 is three has created quite the dilemma in her little mind. Take any number away from a larger number leaves Hannah's mind in confusion and my emotions at a boil. Thanks to some good advice from friends, I revisited some earlier techniques and I think it's doing the job.

We've taken a two month break at Classical Conversations. We've done some reviewing, mainly of the timeline. The kids and I will both be happy to return to our community in a week or so.

And I could write more but I'm assuming I have already lost most readers who began reading hundreds of words ago but quickly became bored, so I'll stop for the one or two of you who made it this far, namely my mom and my mother in law. Mothers are always loyal.

I'll leave you with these three smiling faces, the reason why I'm at home and pouring into them as best I can and praying for the Lord's grace as I also take on the role as educator.

Mommy's Moment: Christmas

 Phew.

Honestly, I feel out of breath. Christmas is over. This year, I think I squeezed just about all I could out of this season and I can contentedly say, I'm happy to move on.

 

All my memory making magic is, well, depleted.

 

Do you feel the pressure each Christmas? To make it "THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER" for your kids? I'll be honest, I do. Part of it's fine. I think it's natural and good. And then of course, part of it is unrealistic and likely due to the million posts on Pinterest that set these crazy expectations as well as the tendancy to compare to all your amazing friends on Facebook. And yes, just being honest, I get caught up in it even when I am trying not to.

But thankfully, it doesn't take much to create "THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER," for my kids. Nope. Why, the moment we put up the tree five weeks ago Grant said, "This is the best Christmas ever!"

 

Check. 

 But of course, what is Christmas time without traditions? Like, the infamous gingerbread house where it takes every perfectionist bone in my body to not try to reposition every misplaced gumdrop or broken candy cane?

 

What makes it even more special is having Grandma there to join in. And I realized, if my mom can forego the chaotic gingerbread dweeling, so can I.

 

Do you know my mom?

 

A huge Christmas fail for me is always, ALWAYS baking. Folks, I'm not a baker. Never will be. But, nonetheless, I try. So, we tried our hand at making shortbread cookies from scratch. Besides the event taking the whole morning, thus making us late to our Classical Conversations Christmas party, the cookies, well, were three stars shy of those "homemade" cookies in the bakery section at Publix. But, I must say, the kids had a blast.

 

I still say baking and made from scratch cookies, are well, for the birds.

 

That's some holiday spirit for you.

 

I won't even begin to describe my failed hand at peppermint bark that left me at the mercy of Pepperidge Farm's Mint Milano cookies (sprinkled with peppermint for that Christmas spirit) for the cookie swap I attended.

 We added some new traditions this year. Like our Christmas chain countdown...that was successful up until about, oh, day, ten. It seems we still have a few chains dangling from the doorway.

 

Enthusiasm was there.

 

 

Another new one, opening a new Christmas book every day until Christmas. Now, this was pretty neat. Yes, I wrapped up 25 Christmas books. Some were old and some I scored for nothing on this site called Listia. So I really didn't pay anything out of pocket for these books. The kids enjoyed opening one each day and we read them during our read aloud time.

 

Those boxes in the back, another attempt to create memories. Thanks to the Target $1 clearance section, I got these for ten cents each. Inside we put a Scripture verse and an activity for the day.

 

This is where I realized I couldn't keep up and I think maybe an activity EVERY OTHER DAY would be more doable for our home. I'm not sure that the kids actually realized we didn't do about 1/3 of the activities I said we would.

 

Fail.

 

We attended the Locust Grove Christmas parade, a first for our family. The highlight of the parade, lots of candy.

Even Molly joined in the fun.

 

 

I found a few crafts on Pinterest. This one was really cute.

 

 

 

And we made ornaments out of beads. A huge hit for Grant.

 

 

Finally Christmas Eve arrived. The kids got a box with pajamas, hot cocoa, and a new game.

 

Operation.

 

We decorated Jesus' birthday cake.

 

Excuse the Pledge sitting right next to the cake. It seems in our house there is always something to clean up.

 

And, like most everyone else, Christmas day was spent enjoying the gifts and calling loved ones to thank them.

 

 

 

 

And as we enjoy these fun times, I try to remind our kids that these gifts are just a taste of the goodness of the Lord that far exceeds any earthly gift we could receive. I pray that in the hustle and bustle of this season we can remember to worship the Giver and not the gifts.

 

Praise the Lord for coming into a war zone to rescue us. May we all "taste and see that the Lord is good."

 

Merry Christmas to you all.

 

 

 



A New Blogger in Town

Let me formally introduce myself.

 

I'm Molly.

 

The beagle.

 

This is my mom and some of my brothers and sisters. We hung out in the back of this truck.

 

Waiting.

 

Who were we waiting for?

 

 

 

 

I guess I was waiting for him...

 

along with Kate, Hannah, my new mommy, and my new daddy.

 

At first, I was a little nervous. They took me away from my family. But it sure was warm in that van. I liked it.

 

And it was in that van that I officially met Kate. A passionate girl she is. Love at first sight I believe. For her at least. I was still trying to warm up to all this new excitement.

 

 As for Hannah, well, she's much more careful. I guess it comes with age. I quickly learned she was my safe place. And I liked it.



 

My first day ended with a bath. How embarrasing. Have you ever had an audience while you bathed? I hope not. Besides feeling sheepish, I was incredibly cold and couldn't stop shaking. I was beginning to second guess my new life.

Thankfully my safe place quickly returned and I felt like a million bucks.

 



 

And now, it appears I am one of them. I'm one of the gang. And, besides the occassional neck lifts and upside down adventures (mainly thanks to the youngest of the crew) I'm really liking it here. I just hope my brothers and sisters are as lucky as I.