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August 31, 2008

Hurricane Preparedness

Keeping an eye on Gustav, I bought a few supplies earlier in the week- water, candles, extra diapers. Nothing fancy, just enough to get us through a day or two of no electricity. I didn't want to go overboard, but I didn't want to be entirely unprepared, either.

Unfortunately, a flat tire yesterday prompted me to go to Wal-Mart for a repair. I had an hour to kill while waiting for it to be fixed--- and so, as I walked the crowded aisles, I caught a full-blown case of Illogical Hurricane Panic. It happens, EVERY-SINGLE-TIME. I am helpless to fight it. I remembered writing about it before during Rita, and I am reposting it, because the EXACT same thing happened yesterday, and it made me laugh all over again.

***

The grocery store is a happening place before a hurricane, I tell ya. Nothing hypes me up like joining the throngs of folks furiously buying peanut butter and Chicken Corn Chowder. The excitement is palpable, and I am one of the first to be swept up in the mania. I start eyeballing other people's carts, to see what they are buying. If they buy it, well, that settles it. I am, too. Cause I need it. Storm's coming. I have to fight the urge to sweep everything off the shelf into my waiting (and already full) buggy.

So I bring back stuff I haven't eaten in fourteen years. Fig newtons? What the? We don't eat those! And what on earth am I going to do with pickled garbanzo beans? The Cheese Whiz was a big hit with King Pen, but it didn't go over so well in my conservative pantry. The "regulars" don't take to well to outsiders, and their foreign spraying habits. It started out with whispers and glares, but it's escalated. I swear I heard some trash talking and rumbling around in there. I'm just staying out of the way. What happens in the pantry, stays in the pantry.

And the toilet paper, oh help me. It's ridiculous. There will be no purchase of Northen Quilt in our home until well after the New Year. And that's if we are outrageously wasteful. I'm racking my brain for other uses, and so far I've come up with a few awesome Christmas presents. (Look forward to it, friends. I'm talking some seriously top notch gifts here.)

I mustn't forget the water. Aah, the WATER. Well, everybody else had so much... It would have been irresponsible NOT to buy enough to drink, and cook, and bathe us (and the cat). And gargle. I mean, you have to do that everyday. And mop? Well, the floor can get awfully dirty with all that mud. And we might need some entertainment, so we'll probably do some water balloons or something. Oh, and heck, let's fill the pool up, too - cause I BOUGHT EIGHTY THOUSAND GALLONS.

And for crying out loud, why did I need three tubes of hydrocortisone cream and a shower cap? That's just weird.

Two days from now, when I am surrounded with all these unused items, I shall feel quite silly indeed.

But better safe than sorry, right? Yeah, that's exactly what got me in this mess.

Well, I will end here. I'll try to write tomorrow, as long as we have power. Now, I have to finish putting away the last bit of things. Let's see, that's twelve bags of ginger snaps, some tweezers, and the economy sized box of dryer sheets.

It seemed reasonable at the time, trust me.

***

Ah, good times.

All joking aside, we are prepared for a few days without electricity-- we are in the projected path, so better safe than sorry. By the time it gets to us though, it will probably just be tropical force winds (though it could still be a Cat 1.) I will admit, I am concerned about all the tall pine trees around us--- I just don't want one of those suckers toppling over! I'll check back in as often as possible. Take care!

Posted by WonderGirl at 6:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Recollecting

hur.jpgIronic, isn't it, that Katrina is so fresh in our minds these last few days, as Gustav looms off in the distance? I went through my archives, and found this post that brings it all back clearly- written August 31, 2005, exactly three years ago today.

I've been holding these thoughts too closely the last few days -and needed them out in the air.

I've got that post 9/11 feeling. Know what I mean? Stunned. Disillusioned. Lucky. Guilty.

It's not my home that has been reduced to a pile of kindling. It's not my family wading through polluted waters to higher ground. It's not my baby transferred to a hospital all alone, with no idea where the parents are, or if they are even still alive. It's not the precious pieces of my life floating away with the receding tide.

Can you feel the weight of grief as thousands mourn the loss of homes and communities and lives? Their fear and worry are like physical pulls on my soul right now. And once again, my life and loves are all safe and sound. Warm, dry, fed, and clothed. Once more, I have been passed over, and others have not. Relief mingles with guilt. And fear. How many times will tragedy look past me? How long can I remain invisible to the fates? The Chinese fear to draw the attention of the gods-- because they are jealous and vindictive. In China, you never say anything is too good, because the gods will hear and take it from you. Sometimes I feel that way, even though the God I worship is the very fountain of all the good things in my life. He would not take them away in spite.

And yet, I know, my life has been strangely absent of tragedy. It scares me, because surely my number will come up soon. I'm due something really bad by now. You can't be untouched forever, right? What will it be? Cancer? An accident? Will I have the fortitude to survive my own personal Kasandra?

Tomorrow, I will probably go back to my house, which now has electricity. I will rake up the leaves, pick up the sticks, and put my life back into gear. Because I can. Because it's still there. But tomorrow- what will all these other people do? And the day after that, what then? Their lives are scattered along the coast in little bitty pieces, and I don't know how to make that any better.

But God did. God does. No matter how the winds roar or waters rise, no matter what devastation crashes upon the shores of our lives, God knows how to put it all back together again. We may lose all, we may cry out to the dark sky, we may be wounded and bleeding-- but God is there, He hears, and He heals. I know it- I know that I know that I know.

Prayers and thoughts with all in the path of this storm. God bless and preserve you- be safe.


Posted by WonderGirl at 1:23 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

August 29, 2008

A Day at the Lake


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View the rest of our lake pictures on Facebook! (And yes, because I'm too lazy to put them up in two places.)

Next pics to come-- first day of school!

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August 28, 2008

Lacing Up

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Well, today we become official homeschoolers.

Today, we skate.

Every decent, well-respected homeschooled kid can tear it up at a roller rink. (Or so I've been told.) This is the first time my kids have ever been, and I can't wait. I have recruited my mom to help, because there is no way I can handle four kids on wheels. (I may be good, but I'm not that good! Ha!) I'll be taking my camera-- I must immortalize these moments forever-- Czarina's long, coltish legs in motion, HeroBoy's nonchalant, James Dean attitude even on skates, the Duke's itty bitty clumsy self and big curly head, probably pulling me down! (That's right, I'll blame it on the children. They make me do all kinds of embarassing things.) All to Michael Jackson's Thriller- which hopefully, the Chipmunk will be dancing to from the sidelines. If I can get all that on film, then I will be one happy mama. Does life get any better than that?

Only if I had the pom-poms on my skates. -wistful sigh-

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August 26, 2008

Status Report: Alive.

I am so beat. So brain-dead, I can guarantee this will be the most boring blog post EVAH.

Where do I start? With the weekend of innertubing and (attempted) wakeboarding that resulted in a frantic need for a chiropractor? (I would have kidnapped one if I could have on Monday. If I'd had use of my arms, that is.)

Should I post all our lake pictures (which need to be resized and all that first?) Or should I post the ones from the kid's first day of school today, and relate how our first day back went?

Or should I write about the rollerskating field trip on Thursday? My mom coming on Wednesday night? Or the company coming this weekend? (Can't wait, Denise!!)

Or, instead of writing, should I be folding the laundry, filing the piles of coupons waiting to be put away, washing supper dishes, or starting on the THREE tote bags that are waiting for me? Or, and shhh-- don't say this one too loud-- could I sneak back into my bedroom and read a few more chapters of that new Diana Gabaldon book that's just calling my name? Oh, the things to be done!!

At least, I've got all my school stuff ready for tomorrow. That's about the extent of my preparation for this week's activities. Scary.

I think, for the moment, I'm going to go make myself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. And then we'll see about all that other stuff, yeah?

Just wanted to check in, letcha know I'm not dead. More blogging tomorrow! Even if it means not doing laundry. 'Cause you all mean just that much.

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The Other Day

The kids were agreeing wholeheartedly with me about something the other day, but I can't remember what it was. I do, however, remember The Duke's enthusiastic contribution to the conversation.

Me: I'm kinda hungry (or something like that).

Czarina: Me too!

HeroBoy: Me three!

The Duke: Two for three!

Goofball.

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August 22, 2008

One Of Those Days

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Hey guys... ever prayed for patience? You know how God answers that? Well, it ain't pretty.

I think I need a do-over.

Luckily, my children are EVER-EAGER to help me learn this particular lesson. I'm sure I'll have an opportunity in oh, 3...2...1...

Posted by WonderGirl at 1:44 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Funny to Me

Yesterday, while watching HeroBoy play Webkinz on the computer, I noticed that his pet, Fang, (the striped snake, FYI) had made a huge mess in his room. Toys, books, scooters, you name it. The place was a wreck.

And I actually heard myself say, about an internet pretend place THAT DOESN'T EVEN EXIST IN THIS DIMENSION, "Whoa, HeroBoy, you have GOT to clean that up, seriously!" And when he laughed and didn't do it, I had to PHYSICALLY stop from doing it myself.

That's just what I need. Now I've got to pick up after my son's internet pet. 'Cause I've got all this free time on my hands, of course.

Also, funny to me-

Today, I was looking for a recipe in the cookbook, and for the life of me couldn't find the hamburger meat section. I looked and looked, and finally in exasperation, unintentionally demanded aloud, "Where's the BEEF??"

I was entirely too amused by that.

Then, very sad. Because, let's face it, this probably qualifies me as "old" and "confusing" to the young peoples.

Okay, I'm off to bed. We're loading up tomorrow for a few days at Lake Bruin (in Louisiana, y'all) and there is much to do and sleep is needed. I'll post lots of pictures Monday of HeroBoy waterskiing, I'm sure, and of Czarina riding very ladylike (and not at all terrified, no ma'am) in the innertube.

Hope everybody has a good weekend!

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August 21, 2008

Arctic Blue on My Eyes

I've been poking around in my archives lately, and republishing some old entries from my first blog, A Peck of Gold. Remember that one? I still have many to sort through, but the effort has me taken me back to my blogging beginnings. Ah, the good old days, back in '03. Let's see, I was a mother of two, 27 years old, and basically clueless.

Now, a mother of four, 32 years old, and still largely clueless. Go figure.

It's funny though, reading those early posts. I had NO IDEA what I was doing. I just wrote whatever I could to fill the page. It's like seeing old pictures of myself where I'm learning to put on makeup (you can never wear too much blue eyeshadow), or fix my own hair (everybody had wings, dadgummit! Not just me!!)

Laughable, sweet, definitely embarassing. There's color on my face, sure. But, oh how inexpertly applied.

It took a long time to learn how to give over to blogging, to begin sharing how I felt and where I was-- and not just post funny (and often not-quite-so funny) links. I wonder how much of writing honestly has come from just the process of growing up, maturing-- or if it is the honest writing that has helped me to grow up. Probably both.

These thoughts inevitably lead me to think-- if I see myself as endearingly blundersome five years ago, will I see the same about these days, these posts, five years from now? How much change waits for me in the years to come? I'll be 37-- mother of four (?), and still largely clueless, I'm sure.

I certainly hope I look back at these posts and chuckle at myself, because that will mean that God is still working in me. I hope for that bemused retrospection- that today's wisdom will be tomorrow's foolishness. I hope I see blue eyeshadow.

But, lest I paint it too cheerfully, I will confess- I do not only laugh when I read old posts. I weep, too.

There are many entries that I never published that were too raw, too lost, too shameful, to ever share aloud. They came from the dark moments over the last few years, times when I was in rebellion to God, when I was running from wisdom and righteousness. I read those, and I can't help but thank God that He wasn't done with me. I can't help but rejoice in the many miles covered in the last five years, and beg Him for even more in the five to come. This blog has marked the steps. I began it for entirely different reasons, but somewhere along the way, it became a scrapbook of my life. My joy, my sorrow, my fear... it all comes out here, in some form. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

The one encouragement I would give as a veteran blogger (yikes, and as if anybody was asking in the first place!)-- is, Write honestly. Let your blog be a chronicle, for better or worse. Don't be afraid to show yourself. It's scary sometimes, because, shoot. We're all messes. I don't want you to know how offbase I can be, and I know you don't want to broadcast your own faults, either. Who wants that?

But, it is in the looking back that we can truly marvel at the distance covered. It is in knowing just what disastrous, misled, foolish notions we have entertained, that we can see how God has corrected and sanctified and healed. It is in seeing our bright blue eyeshadow and John Denver haircuts, that we can really appreciate the wonder of God's transforming grace.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time."

Even a blog.
Especially a heart.

So, put it out there a little. Don't be afraid to blunder about, don't be afraid to look silly. We all do. It's a silly life. We're silly people. And anybody who says differently, well... we'll just wait for them to walk past a mirror and notice their own Arctic Blue eyeshadow for themselves.

Happy writings.


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August 19, 2008

Oh, This Oughtta Be Good.

This past weekend, King Pen was going through some old junk in the shed, and came across a little knife in some fishing gear. It was really grimy, but underneath all that, it was obviously well made, and to King Pen's eye, perfect for a boy's first knife. As he scrubbed away years of dirt and gunk, I could see him picturing his son traipsing out in the swamps with it. His eyes glazed over as he remembered his own, exciting knife-wielding days as a young lad, chopping through the Brimberry, killing snakes and shaving untold years off his mother's life.

(I've come to accept it. In time, HeroBoy, the Duke, and Chipmunk will all shorten my lifespan by at least ten years with their exploits into the wild. It's just a matter of fact.)

Anyway, so I see my husband, eyes shining in expectation and eagerness, and I think, oh, how sweet. He's envisioning this beautiful father son thing, circle of life and all that, and then, my eyes wander down, to my son. Who has practically sprouted wings-- his body shaking like a puppy, he's downright salivating over this knife-- and I realize, with horror-- my husband has just armed my five year old.

Five.

My mom alarm screams into action. Wee-ooh, Wee-ooh, Wee-ooh. Emergency lights blinking, panic in the streets, oh-my-gosh-what-has-my-husband-done-I'm-gonna-kill-him, I-gotta-sit-down-or-I'm-gonna-pass-out kind of moment.

Well, it was too late. Damage done, despite my feminine swoon. HeroBoy is now the proud owner of his very own weapon. Of course, there are a hundred rules, of which we were busy laying down. When asked to relate the rules back, this is the comforting reply I received:

He declares, with all confidence and seriousness, "Number one: No running!"

And then he's stumped. He pauses, thinking hard, trying to recall what any of the other rules are, knowing his status as Knife Owner hangs on accuracy, "And uh... number two...No killing!"

Oh, that's entirely comforting.

PS... For the record, he is only allowed to carry the knife in it's sheath when he is with Daddy. He can't take it out without permission, or cut anything, or use it in any way unless he is under the watchful eye of an adult. He just gets to carry it, until he's eleven or twelve, when he can have it to keep. It is not in his possession at any other time, not in his room, not anywhere accessible. BECAUSE HE'S FIVE.

Heaven help us.

Posted by WonderGirl at 10:02 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

August 18, 2008

Look Up

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In a world of relativism, where we live in shades of grey, it is good to know we serve a God of absolutes.

He is always, or He is never-- He is not sometimes. Not vague or abstract, He is Concrete, and Sure-- not kind of.

He is the Immovable Mountain.

There are no questions that He is not the answer to. You can respond to the world's hurts, to your own hurts- with certainty, with boldness and confidence, knowing there is a clear, unchanging Answer. That Immovable Mountain is a landmark we can point to, eternally rising above the horizon. For He is ALWAYS, with you. He will NEVER forsake you. He is not a Sometimes God. He doesn't do Occasionally, or Maybe.

He said it, He meant it, it's Truth.

Now to those seeking in the fields of grey, "Look, here it is! The answer!"

We can say---

God can fix this.

God can heal that.

God can forgive you.

God will sustain you.

God is listening, God is waiting.

It's not trite. It's not cliche. It's not too little for this world's big problems.

For He is Sufficient, and Almighty
Unchanging, and Immovable.

We need not say more, but point to Him, to the Mountain that is God. "Look up," we say, "and see Him!"

Rejoicing that we live in the shadow of His Peaks, we can't help but call out for others to see His goodness, to rest in the cool shade of his presence.

Beckoning the world from it's life of grey, unafraid and with love- so that all may know Him.


Posted by WonderGirl at 9:23 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Sunday-Go-to-Meetin'

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After church, before lunch,
before playclothes
and naps

After worship, before resting,
before sandbox
and bike laps

After His table, before ours
Dressed up, soon messed up

Another Sunday, before Monday,
Communed and 'fessed up

Smiling, and cheesing in beautiful sunlight
Life is pleasing, heart is squeezing
The Lord's day held tight.

Posted by WonderGirl at 11:21 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

August 14, 2008

Not Quite Empty

I've been reading bits and pieces lately from C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity. This has nothing to do with a painful late fee at the library, oh no. It's not because I've read every other book in the house. It's because I'm very theological, always with a great religious exposition at hand. Oh, you didn't know this about me? Yup.

Lewis, well, he's one of those guys that hits me head on, like a mack truck. I sometimes believe I should stop talking altogether, and just hold up a flashcard with an appropriate C.S. Lewis quote. Here's one that was particularly brutal. (Which seems to be what I require, of late.) It's long, but packs a whollop.




"There must be a real giving up of the self. You must throw it away "blindly" so to speak. Christ will indeed give you a real personality: but you must not go to Him for the sake of that. As long as your own personality is what you are bothering about, you are not going to Him at all.

The very first step is to try to forget about the self altogether. Your real, new self (which is Christ's and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him. Does that sound strange? The same principle holds, you know, for more everyday matters. Even in social life, you will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.

The principle runs through all life from top to bottom. Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in."

You know, for some reason (couldn't be because of my sinful nature, oh no), I've quite often interpreted giving up your self, as giving up your selfish desires and wants-- those things that were probably not all that great to begin with. It made sense to give them up, even if it was hard, even though it meant battling our carnal selves. But, then I realized something-- Jesus also meant giving up what is good about yourself, too. I've been holding on to things, because well, God made me a particular way, so it must be the way He wants me to be. Oh no. How can I be so right and so wrong at the same time? Yes, God made me this way-- it was to His pleasure that He made me to be creative and corny. He made me to love books and stories, He made me to want stillness and solitude. He made me, the good things about me. And then, He asked me to love Him more than those things. To love Him even more than the best my life has to offer. He asks me to put other's needs above my own. He asks, not because I shouldn't enjoy those things or because they are bad for me- not because it's wrong that I am who I am-- but because He wants to be Lord in my life, above it all. I am not here on this earth to meet my needs, even when they seem good and pleasing. I am here to glorify God. Period.

Oh
my.

How have I missed this? Because I have, dear people. For a very long time. Oh, I've been doing a decent job, I think, of sacrificing my own pursuits on a large scale. I've tried to tend to my family and my home. I've put a good 95% into it. But I've held back.

There's a small place in me that I have clung to, and said stubbornly, "no! mine!". I've believed, falsely, that if I didn't keep a tiny bit of myself in reserve, just for me, that I would be lost. I thought I needed it, or I would not be who I am. I would cease to be me, I'd just be a collection of tasks and duties....

Like... a servant.

Wow. Couldn't put it any simpler, could He? I have not been emptied yet. And, because of that, I haven't given Him a vessel ready to be filled. I have given Him what was easy to give, I have given Him the excess from the top... but I have been scared to give the last drops. My remaining resevoir. I've held back what I thought I needed to survive. And now I see... is that really trusting Him at all? Is it really laying down my life, surrendering? I thought, surely, He can't mean that-- surely He couldn't be asking for every last bit of me...

but He is.

So, that's it. I give up. I give up the last five percent. I'm tired of holding on to it, I'm tired of fighting for it, resenting that it's not more. It's not working for me. It's not worth it. If He wants everything, all of me-- then I've got to trust that He knows what He's doing. I've got to trust that I'll be happier, more ME, when I'm more HIM.

I don't know how this changes me, but I'm willing. I'll trust Him. I'll be empty-- not bitter, but scared, because I still fear being lost from myself. I know, I'll be fighting old urges to horde, to save back, because loving myself is my favorite sin.

But loving Him is the only happiness.

Posted by WonderGirl at 10:22 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

August 13, 2008

"It Takes a Lot of Rain

...to make the grass this green"


Today I read the most beautiful, inspiring, God-glorifying blog I've ever found. I want to encourage you to go, start from the beginning, and share in the joy and depth of this woman's faith. This is what it's all about-- it's what being a Christian really is-- it's the undeniable, unshakeable, unbelievable goodness of a sovereign God, no matter what. It is clinging to His promises when the world falls out from under you. It is being broken, so He can be glorified.

I cannot recommend it enough. No, it's more than a recommendation-- it's an urging, a pleading-- because her story and her words slice through to the very heart of living in a fallen world. Besides a faith that totally blows my mind, she is also, hands down, one of the most talented writers I've ever had the privilege of reading.

You will not be sorry you took the time to know her, and to understand how it was the rain that made the grass so green.


Posted by WonderGirl at 11:28 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 12, 2008

This is For Dad

Who taught me to embrace my imagination.


Continue reading "This is For Dad"

Posted by WonderGirl at 11:27 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

Tweakers

Thanks for the comments on the last post, guys. I feel better today. Yesterday was much improved. I decided to spend more time with the kids, so that I could intervene and correct behavior as it cropped up. So, I got less accomplished around the house, but I don't care. We needed some extra contact with each other! We just hung out most of the day, and I gave more hugs and positive reinforcement. I could see the difference by the end of the day, and King Pen agreed. I plan to repeat that today (and everyday!) and I believe it's going to make a difference.

Motherhood is a form of homeostasis. We're always trying to find that perfect balance, where everybody is getting what they need. Watching over them, looking for places you need to make adjustments in your schedule or your activities or your words. Finding that perfect combination of things, the exact formula for each child- (each one requires something different)-- that's the crux of it all. We are constantly tweaking the machine, so that is running at it's optimum capacity. This is a tall order even when you're single and have only yourself to keep straight. Add in five other people- and it is a neverending! I don't mean that in complaint. I mean, you have to be so diligent, constantly aware of where everybody is and what they need from you... and not forget to ENJOY it!!

But, God blesses our efforts, definitely beyond what we deserve. I'm going to be imperfect, there's no doubt about it. But I'm not a team of one. I, very fortunately, have a completely perfect partner (and sorry King Pen, I am not referring to thee). It's hard to imagine, but God loves my children even more than I do. I am certainly not alone with their rearing. He is steadily working within them, shepherding, pruning, tending-- reaching places I can't. He covers my stumbling, He goes beyond my primitive efforts, He helps and heals and guides in ways I don't even comprehend. It is a great comfort to know that they are in better hands than even my own. The covenant God made with His people is good, so good. Becoming a parent has brought new meaning to the security and joy to be found in His promises to us. I am grateful and humbled, and oh so calmed in His hands. But even more grateful, humbled, and calmed, knowing they are in His hands.

Anyway, just thought I'd follow up on my earlier post. I appreciate all your comments and encouragements. It's wonderful to have such good friends in my life! I do wuv you all.

Okay, I'm off for the morning. Stuff to do, kids to hug, yada yada yada. :)


Posted by WonderGirl at 9:58 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 11, 2008

Boy Trouble

Okay, I'm headed to bed, I really am. In just a sec. Seriously.

I just wanted to write about what's been on my mind all weekend. It's HeroBoy.

He's going through something, and I don't know what. One day, I have a sweet, tender-hearted, fun-loving little boy. And the next, I've got a prickly grump who can't stop causing trouble. He's picking arguements with the other kids, just doing things to irritate them. Just being mean for mean's sake. He's being destructive for no reason, getting into stuff he shouldn't. He is being sulky, grouchy, and has gotten in more trouble for talking back and having a bad attitude than he ever has before.

Wha?

I mean, it's like the five years of good training we've done with him are nonexistant! Where is my child?? Of course, all these behaviors are unacceptable, and he's being disciplined for them, but where is this coming from? Why would he suddenly think he's going to be allowed to act this way? And what caused it? The first thing you do as a parent is ask yourself, what am I doing (or not doing) that is precipitating this behavior in my child? You run through the possible causes, contributing factors, etc. Am I being neglectful? Is he sick? Is this normal? You don't want to make excuses for him, but you need to understand so you can change it.

I've noticed a small weed or two of this over the summer, and corrected it as it happens- but it's like it all came to a head this past week. He was in Monroe visiting family and got sick, and couldn't ride in the car, so he stayed with his grandmother while recovering. There was nothing unusual about any of that, and I could see how maybe he got a tad spoiled just from the circumstances, but that's it. The rules weren't different, he wasn't indulged in bad behavior or anything. Nobody did anything differently from how I would have. But he just came back so out of sorts and unhappy, and can't seem to get over it! Of course, I feel quite guilty over it. Maybe he's too young to have gone away from me by himself? Maybe I have missed teaching him something he needs? Maybe I have been too busy with everybody else and he's trying to get my attention? Maybe I haven't hugged him enough lately?

That last one really makes me sad.

I suppose what is most worrisome to me about it though, is that even when we are correcting his actions, I can see a stubbornness in his heart. A resistance. He may submit with his hands, but there is still rebellion in his heart. And I'm not sure how to reach that. I am praying about it, and I am going to be diligently seeking ways this week to help him through it. I know this is one of those moments that is big, one that matters, one we've got to get right.

I know he's going to get older, I know that he'll change and maybe won't be so open and affectionate (sad, but you expect boys to pull away a little more). But the one mistake I do not want to make is believing that this kind of thing is a "stage" that he'll outgrow. I don't want to excuse it because "he's a boy" and that's "just the way they are". I feel like I would be failing him if I didn't fight for him, if I didn't help him through these moments and back to being a happy child.

I just never expected to have to do it this early. Moms of boys, can you relate? Czarina being my oldest, my only experience comes with a girl. And she has a natural desire to please, and a gentle spirit that just hasn't required much more than encouragement. So, I'm in new territory here with HeroBoy. I need some advice.

With that desperate plea, I'm going to bed. Drown me in comments, people! I need ya!


Posted by WonderGirl at 12:38 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

August 8, 2008

By The Minute

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Today, I recieved a really wonderful letter in the mail from my friend Brandy containing an article she photocopied from Above Rubies magazine. It was entitled, "Occupying Toddlers While Trying to Homeschool".

Brandy, you are the bomb. Go on, you know it. You rock. Thank you so much!! I was incredibly encouraged by the ideas and methods suggested. I looked for an online version of it to link to, but I couldn't find one. If anybody wants a copy, I'll be happy to make one and mail it to you. It was CHOCKED full of really great ways to keep little hands busy while you work with the older ones-- and help them not to fall between the cracks. I feel much better equipped after this article.

Anyway.

Prompted by the many fantastic ideas in this article, I decided to go ahead and write out our ideal homeschooling schedule. I am posting it here, because I thought somebody else might find a sample schedule useful- and I know some of my friends who don't homeschool are curious about how things are broken down. So, here's what I've got so far. Bear in mind, I may have to alter it after that first week or so if it's not very realistic. I'm flexible. But however it changes, I'll be following a written plan as closely as possible. For me, that's the best way to make sure everything gets done.

Note: Anytime you see "lesson" or "review", this is time I am doing one-on-one with the child. The other child is doing independant work at that time.

DAILY ACTIVITIES:
Monday- Game
Tuesday- Story Time
Wednesday- Outside Time
Thursday- Music
Friday- Art

So, that's the plan. Some of the subjects will change the second part of the year and we'll be doing History and Social Studies instead of Health and Science. So, we'll be getting a little bit of everything, for everybody, even Solon. I think it will be pretty awesome, myself.

Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions? Please do share anything you think might be helpful.

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August 7, 2008

Success!

So, the Duke is officially potty-trained.

I wasn't keen on waiting until he was three years old to master this skill, but it was honestly the best decision. It was MUCH easier waiting until he was ready. For the last couple of days, we've managed that last hurdle of training (numero dos, people) and the matter is now settled. And how do I know this, you ask? Well, the Duke told me so.

"I'm a Pooper!!" he exclaimed proudly today.

It was, my friends, music to my ears.

Thus concludes my brief blogging foray into pottyworld, at least for two more years.

Posted by WonderGirl at 2:57 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

For You

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Thank you, WonderAunt, for the charming books-- and the millions of other little packages you pop in the mail for the kids that I forget to thank you for. They really love having something special just for them from the mailman. It makes their day, just like it did mine all those years back. You really are a Wonder.

Love,
Me

PS- -Check out Czarina's new 'do. Cute, yeah? And, oh my sakes, isn't HeroBoy a little Indian these days?

Posted by WonderGirl at 12:06 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

August 6, 2008

Lessons to Learn

I am spending more time this year mentally preparing myself for homeschooling than I ever have before. I feel it more this year- the weight of it, the responsibility we have assumed. I am not unhappy about that decision- I really and truly believe homeschooling is the best thing for my children.

But, it means that however it turns out, I've only got myself to answer for it. Me, imperfect person that I am. My laziness, my procrastination, my impatience-- all my very personal flaws, whatever they are, will directly affect my children's education. I am not just relaying facts and data. Our interaction is not merely a transfer of information, because we are connected by more than scholastics. We don't have the luxury of impersonal academia. Who I am matters as much as, (and often even more than) what I say. Homeschooling is hugely personal- it's like "Parenting- Supersized". Does that make sense? It's another arena in which my actions must point to Christ. It's another avenue into their lives that I must strive to show wisdom and enthusiasm and patience and diligence and all the other fruits of the Spirit.

Which, um... is hard.

I'll be honest- there are days when sending them to school for eight hours doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Why, think of all I could get done!

But almost as quickly as that thought comes, I remember this too: if I am able to spend eight extra hours of the day with them, sharing and struggling towards the fruits of the Spirit-- how can that not be amazing? What a great boon that I can provide them with an education, consecutive with their spiritual development! To think of them spending the bulk of their day with someone who may or may not be a Christian, reading from textbooks that quite often hold ideas contrary to the Bible, surrounded by peers whose influence could undermine that innocence we have worked so hard to preserve, well shoot! There's a clear winner here!

As certain as I am that this is the right thing for my family, and as blessed as I am to be doing it, I realize also that I have got to gird myself up. I've been coasting a little bit in my spiritual life, but that's got to change. So, as I create our daily schedule, pore over curriculums, mentally review all the ins and outs of educating this crew-- I realize that the greatest preparation needs to happen within me. All these untidy sins lingering in my soul have got to go. All the organization in the world won't make a bit of difference if chaos and rebellion hide within my heart. If I am not tending to the condition of my soul, then their education will only be one of the many things that will suffer as a result of it.

The truth is, homeschooling is just an extension of parenting. No matter how we educate them in later life, we begin teaching our children from the moment they are born. Our lives are a textbook they read every day. They study us, day and night, in our best and worst, in our highs and lows. They never stop learning, even the sinful lessons we wish we hadn't imparted.

If we are not diligent, if we are lazy in our Christianity, if we don't seek to grow the fruits of the Spirit in our own lives, then we shouldn't be surprised if they do not blossom in our children's. We cannot graft into those little gardens what does not exist in ours!

Just some things to ponder, whether you school at home, at an institution, or on the moon. The most important lesson in life is to love God, whether you're eight, eighteen, or eighty-- and we continue to learn it every day till our last. May my actions (as mother, and as a teacher) be a fat yellow marker that highlights that truth for my children.


Posted by WonderGirl at 2:22 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 5, 2008

Nothing More Infuriating

than a disposable diaper that makes it's way through the wash cycle. GRRRR, I fume, when I see the bulbous globby mess with which Pamper's has bombed my laundry. It creates a gel from hell (at least it rhymes, though) that adheres to EVERYTHING. It's like the Greek Fire of Disgustingness. Once it has established residency in the machine, and on every single item of clothing inside... well... let's just say it completely justifies an 11 a.m. glass of wine.

Can I get an amen?

As an aside, I am looking into the G Diaper as an alternative to the disposable ones. I don't want to make the full-fledged leap to cloth diapers, (because I am a little bit eco-lazy) but this seems like a good compromise.

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Okay, I'm off. Gotta go get in my hazmat gear to clean up the washer. Grr.


Posted by WonderGirl at 1:05 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

Home Sweet Home, Eventually.

So, work continues on the rental house in Monroe. This weekend, we pressure washed the garage and front porch, continued clearing out the shed and took a load of junk to the dump, and moved out the remaining furniture. It's nearly ready, and now the business of finding a renter and getting loose ends tied up has come. (Or so I've been saying for the past two months... it just keeps going on!!)

Here are a few exterior shots of the house, since a few people have asked about it.

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Continue reading "Home Sweet Home, Eventually."

Posted by WonderGirl at 9:47 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

August 1, 2008

Teaching My Own

Of course, I have a million things to do in the next thirty minutes, but I'll think I'll do some rambling blogging instead.

Went to the teacher supply store today to make the most of our 4% tax break today. (I saved three bucks, which just made me mad. They're throwing beans at us, people! Dried, pitiful beans. Anyway.)

As a homeschooling mom, the educational store speaks to me on a cellular level. I have to literally restrain myself from skipping down the aisles in childish glee. I spent two hours just walking around, putting things in my buggy, then convincing myself to take them right back out because, I can make that and save myself eleventy billion dollars! I love that store, but dadgum, it's expensive. It's great for ideas, though. So, I came home with the few things I didn't want to (or couldn't) make myself - a teacher plan book, some bulletin board paper, a workbook on Louisiana history, and a fractions self-check worksheet. This weekend, I will be getting the curriculum and student books for Czarina's 3rd grade, and HeroBoy's kindergarten. After I look through all that, then I will order the workbooks and tests and whatever else I'll need from the A Beka website. I like A Beka okay. It can be a little over the top occasionally, but it's very reliable. Besides the A Beka stuff, I need to get a thing or two for the Duke-- he won't want to be left out, so we'll do some very simple pre-k stuff. Anyway, I should be all setup within the next two weeks, and we can start whenever I'm ready.

I think some people would expect some dread on my part or something, but the truth is, I'm excited. This year, we are joining the Christian Homeschool Association of Louisiana, and I plan to be involved in all the fieldtrips, etc. It's so important for the kids, more so than it has been in the past. They are getting to an age where they need relationships and contact with other children, and I need some mom friends, too. We're in a lonely place right now, and I am optimistic that this will change us for the better. It's no picnic handling an outing with four small kids, but well-- some of them aren't so small anymore and it seems to be getting easier. And regardless, we've just got to bite the bullet and start socializing more, no matter how many strollers or missed naps it involves. We need friends!!

Back to the point, while I have been pondering the upcoming year with eagerness, I am realizing that some things are going to have to change in my life to give schooling the proper attention. I want to do it all, ya know? But, I can't. I've got too many balls in the air, and I'm wondering what's gonna have to drop when I reprioritize life. I am hoping that a very regimented schedule, a daily and HOURLY budget of my time will allow me to maintain my sewing and my blogging. But, to be honest, those two things are luxuries. If they gotta go, they gotta go. Right now, it's more important that I be teaching my little ones, enriching their lives educationally and spiritually-- nurturing them, providing a warm, happy place for them to grow. The rest is just icing on the cake. If I don't take care of that, then all the bags and slings in the world won't matter a whit, ya know?

It's hard.

I hope I can figure out a way to do a bit of the things that bring me personal gratification and pleasure, but I don't need them. It's just fun. Extra. It certainly doesn't compare to the joy that comes from knowing that you are being obedient as a parent-- there's just no question to it. It's my most important job, and it comes first.

Pray for me, though, that however things come about in this next year, that I will be satisfied and content. Pray that I don't burn out, that my enthusiasm is steady, and the kids are on board, too. Pray that I figure out what to do with Chipmunk and the Duke while teaching the other two, and basically, that everybody gets what they need (me included.)

Well, that's all on the matter for the moment. I'm sure I'll be writing more about this in the next few weeks... but for now I have to go pack up a few more things for a weekend trip to Monroe.

See y'all Monday!!


Posted by WonderGirl at 5:35 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack