HomeLife
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. - Annie Dillard
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what I actually hope for my children …
“I just want my children to be happy.” “Follow your heart.” “What’s your passion?” There’s a lot of advice we give and we get – as parents and as humans – that is actually really bad advice. Really bad advice. I think following your heart and finding your passion and pursuing personal happiness rank right up there with the worst. (Even though it sounds so good.) I tell our children, “I’m not hoping for your happiness. I’m not staking my hope in that. Follow Jesus. Not yourself. Follow truth. And sometimes you might find that it makes you happy. And sometimes you will find that it does not.” Happiness is…
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Sunday Morning In The Seats
The first few weeks of summer our Sunday mornings run a little differently. Our church takes a break in their children’s programming at both the beginning and the ending of summer. I think it’s great for the faithful in-the-trenches-every-week kind of volunteers our church is blessed with. They need a bit of breathing room as the school year finishes. The timing is wise and thought out and I am glad it’s there. This break from KidStuff requires us to change our family morning worship time. Which we probably needed the kick in the pants to do anyway. Normally we head to church together, ride in the car together, walk in…
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The Summer Screen Blues
It is full on summer now – right? I mean, I think summer really begins according to the calendar this weekend. But – seriously – the temperatures are in the nineties this week and we haven’t seen school in days upon days. So – it’s summer. For the past few days – when we’ve been home – I’ve found myself wiling away an hour or two here and there sitting in front of this blasted little screen. And I’ve been growing increasingly disgusted with myself. The kids will be upstairs – engulfed in full blown Lego world oblivion. My chores are mostly caught up and so – like the proverbial moth to a flame…
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being affectionate. naturally.
I am not, by nature, wildly affectionate. I’m not a hand patter. I don’t walk up behind you and give you a shoulder massage. (Unless you are my husband.) I’m not likely to hug you when I first meet you. I am not like my mother in this respect. (She hugged everyone she met. Every friend I ever brought home could expect a hug upon entrance to her home.) I fell into my dad’s pattern – more physically reserved. But something is changing my non-affectionate ways. It’s called mothering. It has been both intentional and non-intentional. Becoming a mother certainly expanded my heart to degrees of which I have not…
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now available for you ….
I’ve watched Kevin’s hands with pencil in place for decades. Just over two of them now, in fact. I love his art. His style has really grown and morphed during these years. I’ve witnessed him engage in the struggle of The War of Art or The War with Art. And he has come out on another side and he’s a better artist for the battle and his art is better for the struggle. He’s often experimenting with how the art gets from his mind and his fingers to anyone else in real life. So – a bit of Kevin’s work is right now available at Society 6 – a website marketplace…
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Summer Days
Ah. Sweet summer days. These are good ones. Days to sleep in. Days to discover that the blackberries growing wild in the pasture are sun-ready and ripened to deliciousness. Days to take those delicious blackberries and create an afternoon reading time snack of berries and cream. (We all decided it was practically health food from the earth. Berries wild from the field. Cream whipped from whole milk sweetened slightly with maple syrup tapped from a tree for goodness sake.) Days to be overwhelmed with surprise when your Daddy comes home from a meeting bearing good gifts – personal watermelons for every kid. A literal dream come true. (Right. My kids…
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On the Discussion Board Today: Car Rentals
You guys have helped our family wade through all kinds of random matters over the past who-knows-how-many years I’ve been blogging away early mornings and late nights. We’ve talked about grocery budgets and the ever-popular topic of mascara. (Which, by the way – I am working through your suggestions and although I really want to try those $30 a tube types, I’m working my way down the list in order (I told you I don’t wear it often) and have had pretty good success with the first suggestion – the cheap green Cover girl non-waterproof kind. No weird two days later smudges yet!) One year when I was desperate at…
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Game Kit: A Great Little Product and a Lot of Fun
I cannot remember how long this sat on our shelf. At least a year. Likely more. I actually won a little box of treasures once on a blog giveaway so long ago that I cannot even remember what blog it was. It was a literal treasure box of items though. Bare books (our first introduction and now a staple to our homeschool supplies), wax crayons, a blank puzzle. And this. A blank do-it-yourself board game kit. A game kit complete with a blank board, a spinning wheel, blank cards, play money, dice – you name it. Upon a school room rearrange I unearthed the game kit hiding away and decided I…
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My Last Five Year Old.
I love five. Otto Fox carries it so well. From the proud wearing of his mismatched shoes to his true affection for all bugs and tiny crawling creatures. From his crusty band-aid residue-stained knee caps to his bright blue eyes. I love the way he walks into a room and says, “Hi Mom. I love you more than a hundred million thousand piles of dirt.” I love the way he cheers for life and embraces the ordinary moments. “Mom – can I have a peanut jelly sandwich?” And when I say “yes” he fist pumps the air and shouts for happiness. And he means it. I love the way he…
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In the Heart of the Country
You know how much I love Virginia. We had this idea to share the love a little. And so we invited some friends to trek it up a few states and experience Virginia with us. Sadly, really truly sadly, not all of our buddies could make the journey up this time for a host of reasons. But one family was able to drive down that gloriously long driveway with us and bask in the beauty that is The Farm. I don’t want to gush too profusely – I love my friends who couldn’t make the journey with us too much for that. But I will say this – it was…
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Celebrating a Year of School
Yes, whilst looking at Instagram pictures recently I came to the realization that Wildwood Halls of Ivy had no End of School Year tradition. (Kind of like I needed a kick to get to a Field Day.) No tradition to celebrate conquering the arbitrarily assigned magic number of 180 days? That would never do. I like traditions. I like celebrating. I gathered the kids. Passed out blank sheets of paper. Tossed pencils at them. “Every one write down one food and one activity that you think sounds awesome.” And so they did. It was like an audition for traditions. A try out. We compared notes – if more than one…
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Field Day. Year Two.
I try not to spend a lot of my homeschooling days trying to match Wildwood Halls of Ivy to the local elementary school. Worksheets aren’t our mainstay and bells don’t ring on schedule. Bergen doesn’t have to raise his hand and Mosely can excuse herself to visit the restroom without asking permission. But last year a very typical traditional school activity became a part of our home educating experience. Field Day. Probably not an idea generated by me. (I don’t naturally think of sports-related days of competition. I’m not against it – I just don’t think about it at all. ) But the idea came up in our co-op. And…
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the dinner table.
Sometimes when we eat dinner together we do it a crowded dining room table. A table no one has seen fit to clean before our meal. A table that looks more like the beginnings of a yard sale than the location of a pleasant group dining experience. Have you ever eaten at a table like this? You find yourself pushing aside a roll of toilet paper and a stack of library books and two glow sticks, a matchbox car and a bill that you thought you’d misplaced. That’s what dinner looks likes sometimes at our house. And by dinner I mean – a bowl of cereal for one kid, a…