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Showing posts from October, 2011

Burrs In Her Hair

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She walked out bundled, braided, carrying a peanut butter sandwich and applesauce just in case she did not prefer the dinner available at the farm. One quick kiss, a reminder to stay with the group as they explored the maze. A bus ride of over an hour...on the big yellow tank she used to take to and from school each day before we made the move to homeschooling.  Her exclamation priceless as she was dropped off, "Look! Number 227...I rode it  every day. What are the odds?" Flutters in my stomach as I let her fly Random texts arrived throughout the hours she was away with sparse details. The lack of communication showing, more than anything else, that fellowship and laughter were plentiful in the dark, crisp  see your breath  air of this  late October nigh. Time alone with my little, rare in years past, is becoming plentiful. My grace girl is growing up. A text that the bus is exiting the freeway her little sister long since put to bed  and the man, just home from

Cultivating Gratitude

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We're big  HUGE believers in giving thanks. Showing gratitude in both word and deed. In our home we pen thank you notes up the wazoo (I'm quite sure it's a lost art form at this point). At dinner, we tell one amazing thing that happened in our day and describe why we're thankful for it. We carry lunch sacks of food in the car to hand out to the homeless we encounter at stoplights.  You can laugh...my man did when he first heard about it... We regularly donate to food pantries and rescue ministries. When we pray? We start with our thanks and then move on to the other things... However, I've found one of the best ways to teach the girls gratitude in giving is in the sponsorship of   Compassion children.  We write letters, send birthday and Christmas gifts, and sponsor monthly. Our chicks love hearing about the lives they touch on the other side of the globe. Our hearts, as parents, melt when  they suggest purchasing goats and chickens as gi

Finding Her

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Today, I felt her everywhere but could find her nowhere. So, I did something I've neglected to do for well over a month...I grabbed my phone and headed outdoors, a daily occurrence when she was alive. I heard her in the crisp fall leaves beneath our feet I saw her reach in the arms of my eldest, flung heavenward with  face upturned to the sunlight She was there in the solitary leaf gently drifting from the  pile, unconcerned with remaining in the neat bundle of all the others.. .. She was exuberantly  present in this grin and in the joyous release of leaves as they flew high and fluttered down slowly  in the warm fall air... I'm quite sure I felt her here as I gazed out into the quiet of the backyard as the sun began  to set behind one of her favorite trees... (note the sparkle in the grass which only appeared  via the shot) So, I looked with my heart and I found her everywhere.... In the beauty present, all aroun

Pearl Buttons

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She knows how to stand, both feet firmly planted on the floor, without the slightest movement. A picture of stillness, so rare in someone her age. My girl, the one who twirls everywhere, never skips a beat when I ask her to grind to a halt. Patient Sweet Understanding She knows the quiet concentration required; statuesque she remains. My internal dialogue is awash with frustrated tones, pursed lips, hints of anger, and an occasional word that I'd never speak out of my head crossing my brain....pure frustration for her  that at seven she's prohibited from bounding around as I try to catch the back of her frock, a normal  for most. Our eyes lock in the mirror, and she smiles gently at me. She asks, "Would you like me to find something different this morning? I can always change this afternoon...." Her baby blues showing empathy as she holds my gaze. Sigh "No, I'm almost there, only two left...", my words trailing off as I once again tac

Remembering the Now

Overheard in the nest ... "If I was a sewing machine manual, where would I be?" "That seriously sounded a whole lot like Jonathan Edwards..." "I think he was drunk. That's the only thing that could explain it." "Get out of the toilet! Toilets are NOT for drinking out of...Now she smells like a toilet!" (in reference to the dog) "She's better than I am at piano...even if I practiced as much as she does there's really no way I'd be that skilled. But I don't care if I'm amazing at piano, so it doesn't really matter." "Mama, I really appreciate you sewing my antlers for me." "What does the ___word mean?"  My response: "Where did you hear THAT?" "How many people does it take to sew a comb on a headband? Two...especially when the Mom's hands don't work and the wearer has to hold the elastic while said mother sews with both hands. Two people. Four hands. Pit

Rain

"Thanks for showing me that even on the darkest, rainiest days  the sun is still there, just behind the clouds, waiting to shine again."   -Lisa Harlow  It's dark and rainy here in our neck of the woods. It was lovely yesterday...glorious actually. The sun shone and the sky was the most beautiful shade of cerulean with the thermometer reading well over eighty degrees. Tonight? It's in the forties and the chicks are asking me to purchase their winter coats. Yesterday we wore shorts. Today it was cozy grey sweats.  Ah, change...I feel it with every part of me. My body told me the mercury had dropped in the wee hours of the morning, as my sweet husband whispered, "Are you sure  you want to go exercise?" I half groaned in the affirmative, planted my feet on the floor, and propelled myself forward knowing that my time on the machine would be longer than usual to combat the gloomy skies. My heart feels it, as it's now been over a month since my sw

Response

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I'm reveling in the quiet of this morning. In the stillness of the world awakening, I'm taking the time to breathe in the beauty of what today may become. May become A big part of how my today unfolds will rest largely on my response to her events. Am I greeting her willingly, with open arms and a ready heart? I am Because He IS The way the sky appears when lying beneath trees; I heartily recommend taking the time to notice details from a new perspective...

Modification

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Modification (n.) 1. The action of modifying something. 2. A change made. 3. A small alteration, adjustment, or limitation. I've been making a myriad of modifications around the nest lately, such as changing out shorts for cozy cable knits, switching lemony linen throw pillows for cream sherpa fleece, and altering my ever-too-long pant collection . Changing Switching Altering Three words that are synonymous with the concept of change and are found in the definition of modification. I've spent most of my life coping with Senor Change, and my letter to him would read something like this: Dear  Sir Change, I see you've decided to visit me again. I guess you've failed to recall that we are not  bosom buddies. I don't care for you. I wish you'd leave. You make me feel all sorts of upset inside. Remember when I was young and you caused such enormous upheaval in my life? I do. I also recall you wreaking havoc on my teens.  And my twe

Noticing

I feel like most parts of my life are simply fluff lately...have you been there? That so much of it is just background noise trying to distract me from the big stuff. I want to notice the big stuff Stuff is a poor word choice, but stuff it is...what keeps us busy and what we're reaching for and what we do all day?  It's mostly just stuff. But what I'm missing? It's the true blue in the sky and the way  eyes crinkle just before all of the happy pours out. Not perceiving it almost causes pain. I've taken less time this month to discover the world around me. I miss that feeling, the one that comes with the cherishing of the moment.  You know it, right? The anticipation of something and then the complete calm that comes with the joy of the experience? This morning, I figured it out...  I'm seeing everything as I normally would... It's all in my response to the world.  It's in the noticing. Taking notice Taking the time to experience. Sharing i

Comments Anyone?

Hi Friends, I've switched up the comments to Disqus in an effort to answer you all more quickly.  Blogger was good enough to save the originals. Yet, for the life of me, I've yet to figure out how to answer them from the dashboard. Sigh. With all of that said, is there anything special you'd like to see here on the blog that I can tweak with design? I would like to make this more user friendly for you, so comments are appreciated and will be taken under advisement. Oh, and for someone who is tech savy, could you tell me how to post a blog to twitter so it shows up as a bit  or something of the like? My skills lie in teaching intranstive verb forms and trichotomy these days (for our 7th grader) along with latin and long division (for our sweet 3rd grader). The joys of homeschooling are that you recall the learning of your youth without moving forward into tech savy-ness. Off to finish piano theory with my little...we're studying transposition!

Keeping On...

This morning it took all I had to slip from beneath the warm, cozy blanket and pull on my worn track shorts and tank. It was dark. Cold. Rainy. The digits were closer to six than seven. Way too early. I didn't want to go. But I did it anyway because that's what I do. I stick to the plan, follow the rules, stay on task.   No matter what. I'm disciplined. I'm not saying this in a proud or haughty manner, just as a matter-of-fact. It's a part of who I am. A friend used to tease me that I should have remained Catholic, because I am great  at making something ritual. So, I get up. I put one foot in front of the other, and I keep on keeping on. I want to nestle back under the covers. I want to spend the day in the abyss that is my heart. That's not life. Not mine anyway. I homeschool, exercise, study the Word, and do a massive amount of driving to the chicks' activities. I pay bills, manage the household, clean from top to bottom, and make sure all are

Lonely Eyes

Today I took the time to gently lift her into my arms and sway around the kitchen.  Laying aside all of the I have to's   and instead looking her in the eyes and noticing the lonely. Wondering if my eyes look the same I stopped cleaning up dinner and unloading the dishwasher and pulling out the vitamin regiment for the 'morrow. I started listening to the quiet of her heart.  The place that was calling out for more of me in the regular moments. Scrolling through the music on the phone, I found her song. The one I've sang to her since her NICU days. Choosing it carefully, pushing play, watching the wonder in her eyes. She  did not realize it was on our devices. Wonder replacing lonely My little is still small enough to fit on my hip, even at seven. I tell her it's God's gift to me, being able to tote her when she gets tired or hurt or just plain lonely . Growing up isn't easy. Neither is being grown up. Knowing this, I hold her tighter and we glide aroun