Homeschooling is amazing. It brings you these incredible days where you are sure you are a failure one minute, and the next minute you gaze in wonder at the intelligence of your children.
Our school day started out with math (which was surprisingly not painful, considering The Oldest is learning to find common denominators.) Then came English. The Oldest wrote me four synopses about things such as The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere and the parable of the Good Samaritan. Littlest One was doing the same thing she always does: phonics charts, reading from a beginning reader, and then copy work. In two years, she still does not remember that N-E-W spells "new". Nor did she remember the words "would", "oh", or "unto". It was a painful lesson. The kind that convinces you, as a homeshooling mother, that your child will still not be reading when she is entering high school. (Because homeschooling mothers are known for putting undo pressure on themselves, and then buckling under said pressure. It's what we do. We're really good at it.)
But then, life happens. Discussions happen. Over lunch, Galileo's experiment at the leaning tower of Pisa came up. I remember hearing about that in the 8th grade. My teacher telling us that, if we were allowed to climb up onto the roof and drop a bowling ball and a marble, that they would land at the same time. I never did believe him.
Well, we didn't have a bowling ball, but we had a huge bouncy ball and a marble. So we dropped them from the deck, two stories above the ground below, and Littlest One kept watch. Indeed, they did both land at the same time.
From there, I thought I'd be all awesome and explain gravity and terminal velocity. Except that at about that moment, Littlest One (who is SIX!) piped up. "Eventually, everything will go as fast as it can go, and it won't go any faster."
And there's terminal velocity, in six year old terms.
"The balls landed at the same time because they're the same shape. So they push the air away the same."
Right.
So what would happen if I dropped a feather and a hammer?
"They wouldn't be the same, 'cuz they're shaped different. The feather makes more friction."
Seriously? I had to look it up. She was right.
"What would happen if I dropped a feather and a hammer and I was standing on the moon?" (The school book told me to ask that. Never would've occurred to me otherwise.)
"They'd fall the same. 'Cuz there isn't any air on the moon, so there's no friction."
I had to look that up, too. How on earth did she learn that? Her sister read something about it in a National Geographic magazine and told her about it. I Googled the video of the Apollo 15 astronaut demonstrating it. They were fascinated.
Why am I doing the teaching here? Clearly, the ten year old is more capable. Granted, I can claim having taught them about friction. We had an awesome time with that one!
Later tonight, she explained the process of amputating a horse's leg due to infection from a dog bite, and then creating a prosthetic leg and teaching it how to walk again.
Um, seriously? Yeah, it was in a book her sister read to her, one Grammy gave her for Christmas. So they were playing "amputated horse leg" in the living room. Because that's what homeschoolers do for fun.
This morning at breakfast, we used the computer to take a virtual tour of the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. (We just finished reading aloud the Newbery award winner From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler so it fit in nicely.) Using the mouse to move through the museum, The Oldest pipes up, "Look! There's a model of Brunellesci's dome!" Ehhh... huh? She looks at me like I might be stupid. "Brunellesci. The Renaissance. Remember?" Uh... yeah, no. But apparently I read something about that to her once. Glad to know it stuck.
Homeschool is incredible. Stressful, and difficult, but incredible. They spend so much time delving into subjects that interest them, and then sharing those subjects with one another, playing them and discussing them and pondering them. The teaching that I do hardly touches the amount of learning that they do, through each of those mediums.
So about that trouble with reading? I'm pretty sure it'll come. Some day there will be a book that details the discoveries of some great inventor or scientist, and she's going to be desperate to know what it says, and she's going to read it. The hardest part of homeschooling is letting go of the standards and goals you've got in your mind. Because you can set as many standards as your heart desires, but your kids aren't going to meet them the way you planned for them to. They'll get there in their time, taking their route, and achieving so much more along the way than you ever could have even imagined.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Farm Life's Hardest Lesson
If you read any "What I Wish I Would Have Known" articles written by modern homesteader types, one of the first items on their list is always going to be this:
You don't have to do it all at once.
Take it slow, they say. Give yourself grace, they say. Just a little bit at a time and don't overwhelm yourself.
I've read dozens of those articles. And I've always nodded in agreement, as though I've always known perfectly well that that one little bit of advice is absolutely correct.
Except that I didn't.
My best friend and I used to joke that whichever one of us ended up moving to a farm first was going to end up sitting in the middle of her pasture, crying the ugly cry, absolutely overwhelmed by what she had taken on and that the other friend was going to have to listen and comfort and try not to say "I told you so."
Turns out, I was the first one to move to a farm. And that prediction wasn't as far off as I'd like for you think it is. Except that it's snowy outside, so I was sobbing in my bedroom, while staring at my pasture. Which really isn't any better.
I haven't blogged regularly in almost a year. There's a reason for it though.
The past year has been seriously rough. My husband has been working out of town - sometimes out of state - for the past year. He's gone two weeks and then home for a week. That means that two thirds of the time, every responsibility of this property falls on my shoulders. In the past year I have raised a rather large garden, milked two goats and kept another 50 or so animals alive, homeschooled a first and fifth grader, kept a 4600 square foot house clean, raised 700 bales of hay on a 25 acre pasture using nothing but a shovel and some tarps. I've raised and butchered enough chickens to last a year, canned a year's worth of fruits and vegetables and dried or frozen what wasn't canned, cooked dinner every night, run my kids around to their extra curricular activities, driven an hour each direction every time I needed groceries, hauled horses to 9 gymkhanas and rodeos, and hauled chickens to the county fair. And almost all of this with very little help from The Man of My Dreams, except for the weeks he was able to spend at home.
What I learned is that I really can do it all. I'm working from 5:30 in the morning until 9:30 at night, every single hour of the day, but I can get it all done. Until something goes wrong. As soon as the slightest little thing happens to upset my very rigid schedule, I lose it. I get so overwhelmed that I can't function and all I want to do is give up. Or cry.
The bad part of that, though, is that in this life, something happens to change your plans Every. Single. Day. Nothing ever goes the way you expect it to, or plan for it to. An animal gets sick. A kid misbehaves. A neighbor needs help. A fence needs fixed or a goat gets out or a deer dies in your front yard or your dog gets skunked or the well runs dry (again) and you have to spend an hour hauling water. The list of Things That Can Go Wrong is infinite. And each one of those things is guaranteed to happen when you least expect it. That is reality.
And with a schedule as packed as mine has been this year, and a brain so overwhelmed by constant mental to-do lists, there just isn't time to stop and enjoy all those little things that are supposed to bring me joy. I don't have time to watch my kids play with animals or build a fort or raise a puppy. I don't have time to relax with my husband and just sit and watch the sun go down. I've spent every waking moment just keeping up, keeping my head above water, that I've lost touch with every reason we moved up here in the first place. And that makes my heart hurt.
It's a lesson no one can just tell you and expect you to understand: You don't have to do it all at once.
You have to learn it, first hand. And it's painful. And it involves a lot of frustration and even more tears. But eventually, you take a step back, and you realize what you're doing to yourself, and you decide things have to change. Priorities have to be considered. You have to give yourself room to bend, and time to relax. You have to remember that there are so many years ahead of you to figure this all out and get it all done. And there will never be one single year when you actually accomplish everything you feel like you should. Living this life isn't something to mark off the to-do list. It's a process - a life long process - and it will never actually be finished.
And so, at a time when so many of my friends are moving out to the country and starting their homesteading lives, here is my advice:
You don't have to do it all at once.
Take it slow.
Give yourself grace.
Just a little bit at a time.
Don't overwhelm yourself.
And when you are sobbing in the middle of your pasture, don't hesitate to give me a call.
You don't have to do it all at once.
Take it slow, they say. Give yourself grace, they say. Just a little bit at a time and don't overwhelm yourself.
I've read dozens of those articles. And I've always nodded in agreement, as though I've always known perfectly well that that one little bit of advice is absolutely correct.
Except that I didn't.
My best friend and I used to joke that whichever one of us ended up moving to a farm first was going to end up sitting in the middle of her pasture, crying the ugly cry, absolutely overwhelmed by what she had taken on and that the other friend was going to have to listen and comfort and try not to say "I told you so."
Turns out, I was the first one to move to a farm. And that prediction wasn't as far off as I'd like for you think it is. Except that it's snowy outside, so I was sobbing in my bedroom, while staring at my pasture. Which really isn't any better.
I haven't blogged regularly in almost a year. There's a reason for it though.
The past year has been seriously rough. My husband has been working out of town - sometimes out of state - for the past year. He's gone two weeks and then home for a week. That means that two thirds of the time, every responsibility of this property falls on my shoulders. In the past year I have raised a rather large garden, milked two goats and kept another 50 or so animals alive, homeschooled a first and fifth grader, kept a 4600 square foot house clean, raised 700 bales of hay on a 25 acre pasture using nothing but a shovel and some tarps. I've raised and butchered enough chickens to last a year, canned a year's worth of fruits and vegetables and dried or frozen what wasn't canned, cooked dinner every night, run my kids around to their extra curricular activities, driven an hour each direction every time I needed groceries, hauled horses to 9 gymkhanas and rodeos, and hauled chickens to the county fair. And almost all of this with very little help from The Man of My Dreams, except for the weeks he was able to spend at home.
What I learned is that I really can do it all. I'm working from 5:30 in the morning until 9:30 at night, every single hour of the day, but I can get it all done. Until something goes wrong. As soon as the slightest little thing happens to upset my very rigid schedule, I lose it. I get so overwhelmed that I can't function and all I want to do is give up. Or cry.
The bad part of that, though, is that in this life, something happens to change your plans Every. Single. Day. Nothing ever goes the way you expect it to, or plan for it to. An animal gets sick. A kid misbehaves. A neighbor needs help. A fence needs fixed or a goat gets out or a deer dies in your front yard or your dog gets skunked or the well runs dry (again) and you have to spend an hour hauling water. The list of Things That Can Go Wrong is infinite. And each one of those things is guaranteed to happen when you least expect it. That is reality.
And with a schedule as packed as mine has been this year, and a brain so overwhelmed by constant mental to-do lists, there just isn't time to stop and enjoy all those little things that are supposed to bring me joy. I don't have time to watch my kids play with animals or build a fort or raise a puppy. I don't have time to relax with my husband and just sit and watch the sun go down. I've spent every waking moment just keeping up, keeping my head above water, that I've lost touch with every reason we moved up here in the first place. And that makes my heart hurt.
It's a lesson no one can just tell you and expect you to understand: You don't have to do it all at once.
You have to learn it, first hand. And it's painful. And it involves a lot of frustration and even more tears. But eventually, you take a step back, and you realize what you're doing to yourself, and you decide things have to change. Priorities have to be considered. You have to give yourself room to bend, and time to relax. You have to remember that there are so many years ahead of you to figure this all out and get it all done. And there will never be one single year when you actually accomplish everything you feel like you should. Living this life isn't something to mark off the to-do list. It's a process - a life long process - and it will never actually be finished.
And so, at a time when so many of my friends are moving out to the country and starting their homesteading lives, here is my advice:
You don't have to do it all at once.
Take it slow.
Give yourself grace.
Just a little bit at a time.
Don't overwhelm yourself.
And when you are sobbing in the middle of your pasture, don't hesitate to give me a call.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
A New Year's Eve Bash - Family Style
It was the first New Year's Eve that both girls would be staying up
until midnight, and so I decided to make a celebration out of it - one
that we will all remember for years to come. We're not cool or social enough to have anyone to get together with, but we made plenty of our own fun!
I started off early in the day hanging balloons - each one marked with the hour it was to be popped. Inside each balloon was a strip of paper with an activity written on it. Then I placed corresponding gift bags filled with "supplies" on the hearth. Doing it early meant they were forced to wonder All. Day. Long. what was to come. The suspense was wonderful.
At 6:00, the festivities began. The first activity was to decorate the living room. The bag was filled with streamers, balloons, ribbons, etc. plus leis and "Happy New Year" crowns. It is apparently tremendous fun to get to do the decorating for a party. We also turned on some good music, and had snacks and appetizers laid out on the table. Throughout the night, The Daddy played guitar for us.
7:00 started the "Craziest Party Hat Contest". The supply bag was filled with every craft supply I could find in the craft room - feathers, pompoms, pipe cleaners, stickers, buttons, glitter glue, sequins, ribbon. We spread it all out on the kitchen table and set to work creating the wildest hats imaginable.
Each hat was indeed pretty wild!
It was promised that the winner would receive a "Big Surprise" after we were finished and had voted on the best. The Daddy won, and he did indeed get a Big Surprise.
The girls had as much fun giving him the surprise as he had receiving it... probably even more!
After that, we spent an hour looking through all of the pictures from the past year on the computer, talking about the things we did, re-telling stories and remembering some of the highlights of the year. Then we made our Top 10 list of our favorite events of the year. Topping the list was our first year of baby goats, and also much to do with our other animals: getting new horses, a milk cow, a puppy, gymkhanas and rodeos, and plenty of fun experiences. After our Top 10 list was made, the girls opened an envelope that held little cards I'd made for all of us to write a wish for the coming year on. Then we attached our cards to helium-filled balloons, and sent our wishes up into the sky.
Next was an hour of more snacks and some board games. We let the kids pick the games and sat amidst the balloons and streamers and enjoyed some friendly competition.
At 10:00 we sat down to watch a movie together after making some root beer floats.This was probably not my best idea. It was hard to stay awake while trying to watch Hercules, at a time when my body was sure it was bed time. So I had some coffee.
But at 11:30, the celebration took off again. I filled that last balloon with confetti, along with the slip of paper. The supply bag held noise makers, plastic champagne cups, and party poppers (the kind that shoot confetti and ribbon everywhere.) We filled the cups with sparkling grape juice for the kids, champagne for the adults, and tried to stay awake until midnight.
The Oldest barely made it.
But then came the countdown to midnight - we blew our noisemakers, shot confetti all over the living room, and toasted to the new year. The Littlest One changed our 2013 banner to 2014, and we all hugged and kissed and promptly went to sleep.
It was a blast planning all of it, and seeing it play out. The girls - despite the fact that it was just our little family - were thrilled to have so much excitement. And The Daddy and I enjoyed sharing all the smiles and laughter with them. I think we can chalk this up to our best New Year's Eve to date!
Here's wishing all our friends and family a happy, prosperous 2014!
On a side note: All this stuff came either from the dollar store, or from my craft and party stash. This had to be the most inexpensive party I've ever thrown. Also, the dollar store is my new favorite store. I'd never been in one until this year. But seriously, who wouldn't love a place where you can buy cans of silly string for a dollar?
I started off early in the day hanging balloons - each one marked with the hour it was to be popped. Inside each balloon was a strip of paper with an activity written on it. Then I placed corresponding gift bags filled with "supplies" on the hearth. Doing it early meant they were forced to wonder All. Day. Long. what was to come. The suspense was wonderful.
At 6:00, the festivities began. The first activity was to decorate the living room. The bag was filled with streamers, balloons, ribbons, etc. plus leis and "Happy New Year" crowns. It is apparently tremendous fun to get to do the decorating for a party. We also turned on some good music, and had snacks and appetizers laid out on the table. Throughout the night, The Daddy played guitar for us.
7:00 started the "Craziest Party Hat Contest". The supply bag was filled with every craft supply I could find in the craft room - feathers, pompoms, pipe cleaners, stickers, buttons, glitter glue, sequins, ribbon. We spread it all out on the kitchen table and set to work creating the wildest hats imaginable.
Each hat was indeed pretty wild!
It was promised that the winner would receive a "Big Surprise" after we were finished and had voted on the best. The Daddy won, and he did indeed get a Big Surprise.
The girls had as much fun giving him the surprise as he had receiving it... probably even more!
After that, we spent an hour looking through all of the pictures from the past year on the computer, talking about the things we did, re-telling stories and remembering some of the highlights of the year. Then we made our Top 10 list of our favorite events of the year. Topping the list was our first year of baby goats, and also much to do with our other animals: getting new horses, a milk cow, a puppy, gymkhanas and rodeos, and plenty of fun experiences. After our Top 10 list was made, the girls opened an envelope that held little cards I'd made for all of us to write a wish for the coming year on. Then we attached our cards to helium-filled balloons, and sent our wishes up into the sky.
Next was an hour of more snacks and some board games. We let the kids pick the games and sat amidst the balloons and streamers and enjoyed some friendly competition.
At 10:00 we sat down to watch a movie together after making some root beer floats.This was probably not my best idea. It was hard to stay awake while trying to watch Hercules, at a time when my body was sure it was bed time. So I had some coffee.
But at 11:30, the celebration took off again. I filled that last balloon with confetti, along with the slip of paper. The supply bag held noise makers, plastic champagne cups, and party poppers (the kind that shoot confetti and ribbon everywhere.) We filled the cups with sparkling grape juice for the kids, champagne for the adults, and tried to stay awake until midnight.
The Oldest barely made it.
But then came the countdown to midnight - we blew our noisemakers, shot confetti all over the living room, and toasted to the new year. The Littlest One changed our 2013 banner to 2014, and we all hugged and kissed and promptly went to sleep.
It was a blast planning all of it, and seeing it play out. The girls - despite the fact that it was just our little family - were thrilled to have so much excitement. And The Daddy and I enjoyed sharing all the smiles and laughter with them. I think we can chalk this up to our best New Year's Eve to date!
Here's wishing all our friends and family a happy, prosperous 2014!
On a side note: All this stuff came either from the dollar store, or from my craft and party stash. This had to be the most inexpensive party I've ever thrown. Also, the dollar store is my new favorite store. I'd never been in one until this year. But seriously, who wouldn't love a place where you can buy cans of silly string for a dollar?
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The Little Things - The Important Things
Ah, what a nice break it's been from blogging! With so much to do, and so little time, writing our little stories has been pushed to the back burner.
If there's one lesson I'm learning from this crazy new life we're living, it's how to prioritize. Children must be taught and fed. Animals must be fed and tended to. The hay pasture must be irrigated and the garden must be planted and tended. Sadly, things like blogging, or knitting, or any of the other little creative bits I used to have time for seem to have been replaced with other activities, at least for now.
Not that I'm complaining. So much satisfaction can be found in the work that makes up every moment of every day. I enjoy it all immensely, and so does our family. What is actually work often feels more like play. I've learned to find incredible enjoyment in my animals, in walking through the sloshy pasture twice a day, and in making cheese and yogurt. Peaceful moments come in the form of enjoying a cold beer on the deck at sunset, listening to the birds singing their goodnights; listening to Two Little Girls making clothespin fairy dolls talk as they adventure through the garden fairy village; watching goats and horses graze contentedly along the edges of the yard.
Not that it's all picture perfect. The never-endingness of it all is constantly overwhelming, and I'm still learning to accept that I'm simply not ever going to have it all done. It goes back to those priorities. Some days school takes priority, and we do a week's worth of math and English to make up for the days we've missed. Other days I realize I haven't shoveled manure in a week, or that the weeds are climbing the pea trellis faster than the peas are. Whatever seems most pressing gets accomplished, everything else is left for another day. I'm learning to remember that it will still be there tomorrow. And some days, play and relaxing and laughing take priority. If they didn't, I'd be a crazy person. And we all know if I'm crazy, my family is too.
So along we trudge, delighting in all The Little Things we do, appreciating the sweet details that tend to fog over the messier big picture. And for now, that's just about perfect.
As life seems to be evening out again, I'm hoping to get back to writing the little stories that make up our little lives... the stories I want to remember, that I want my children to remember, the stories that I hope make a few folks smile once in awhile.
If there's one lesson I'm learning from this crazy new life we're living, it's how to prioritize. Children must be taught and fed. Animals must be fed and tended to. The hay pasture must be irrigated and the garden must be planted and tended. Sadly, things like blogging, or knitting, or any of the other little creative bits I used to have time for seem to have been replaced with other activities, at least for now.
Not that I'm complaining. So much satisfaction can be found in the work that makes up every moment of every day. I enjoy it all immensely, and so does our family. What is actually work often feels more like play. I've learned to find incredible enjoyment in my animals, in walking through the sloshy pasture twice a day, and in making cheese and yogurt. Peaceful moments come in the form of enjoying a cold beer on the deck at sunset, listening to the birds singing their goodnights; listening to Two Little Girls making clothespin fairy dolls talk as they adventure through the garden fairy village; watching goats and horses graze contentedly along the edges of the yard.
Not that it's all picture perfect. The never-endingness of it all is constantly overwhelming, and I'm still learning to accept that I'm simply not ever going to have it all done. It goes back to those priorities. Some days school takes priority, and we do a week's worth of math and English to make up for the days we've missed. Other days I realize I haven't shoveled manure in a week, or that the weeds are climbing the pea trellis faster than the peas are. Whatever seems most pressing gets accomplished, everything else is left for another day. I'm learning to remember that it will still be there tomorrow. And some days, play and relaxing and laughing take priority. If they didn't, I'd be a crazy person. And we all know if I'm crazy, my family is too.
So along we trudge, delighting in all The Little Things we do, appreciating the sweet details that tend to fog over the messier big picture. And for now, that's just about perfect.
As life seems to be evening out again, I'm hoping to get back to writing the little stories that make up our little lives... the stories I want to remember, that I want my children to remember, the stories that I hope make a few folks smile once in awhile.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sweet Prayers
Two Little Girls have recently decided that they would like for us to hear their prayers before they go to bed at night. This is already proving to be a sweet and touching addition to our already beloved bedtime routine, adding exponentially to the smiles and fond memories each night.
Littlest One's prayer tonight:
"Dear God, thank you for Bandit. And thank you for my mom, and my dad, and my sister. And thank you for Angel, but not Little Bay because he's a punk. And thank you for Goldi (even though she is handicapped) and for Grammy and Jupiter and Matilda and Lazarus and Lavender and Tinkerbell and Freckles and Twilight (even though she runs away from me) and Penelope. And thank you for the rooster-boys (except the one with the gold neck that tried to attack my mom's foot.) And thank you for Liberty (even though she is at Ms. Kris's house being 'breaded') and for Justice and for Justice's babies that she's gonna have. And thank you for Huck, and thank you for Izzy, and thank you for Milo and for all of the barn cats, Batman, Buffy, Fluffy, Poofy, Sally, and Gabriella. And thank you for my room. But not my bathroom, because I don't live in it. Amen."
And the Oldest's:
"Dear God, thank you for my mom and dad and sister. And please make Izzy's leg better before my birthday so she can play in the snow with me on my birthday. Amen."
Don't they just warm your heart? Okay, so they aren't perfect prayers with fancy words and all of that. But it's clear that the things that matter most to these girls are very real things - their family, and their animals. Both of those things are precious, and I'm glad that they realize it. I hope they continue to thank God for these blessings, and that they never take them for granted. And I hope that, as long as they live, all it takes to satisfy their hearts are the people and the animals that they love.
Littlest One's prayer tonight:
"Dear God, thank you for Bandit. And thank you for my mom, and my dad, and my sister. And thank you for Angel, but not Little Bay because he's a punk. And thank you for Goldi (even though she is handicapped) and for Grammy and Jupiter and Matilda and Lazarus and Lavender and Tinkerbell and Freckles and Twilight (even though she runs away from me) and Penelope. And thank you for the rooster-boys (except the one with the gold neck that tried to attack my mom's foot.) And thank you for Liberty (even though she is at Ms. Kris's house being 'breaded') and for Justice and for Justice's babies that she's gonna have. And thank you for Huck, and thank you for Izzy, and thank you for Milo and for all of the barn cats, Batman, Buffy, Fluffy, Poofy, Sally, and Gabriella. And thank you for my room. But not my bathroom, because I don't live in it. Amen."
And the Oldest's:
"Dear God, thank you for my mom and dad and sister. And please make Izzy's leg better before my birthday so she can play in the snow with me on my birthday. Amen."
Don't they just warm your heart? Okay, so they aren't perfect prayers with fancy words and all of that. But it's clear that the things that matter most to these girls are very real things - their family, and their animals. Both of those things are precious, and I'm glad that they realize it. I hope they continue to thank God for these blessings, and that they never take them for granted. And I hope that, as long as they live, all it takes to satisfy their hearts are the people and the animals that they love.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
And Off She Goes!
Remember that post from earlier this summer, where I talk about my sweet, cautious kiddo walking ever-so-slowly through all the events at her 4-H gymkhana?
Heh. Yeah. Once again, she's proven to me that she is not one to be rushed, but that when she is good and ready, she can do anything she sets her mind to.
We've officially gone from, "C'mon, Chloe, trot!" to "Whoa, slow down!"
See that? She's loping! She has finally discovered what fun it is to sit astride a running horse... and now it's all she wants to do.
Yes, it makes my Mama-heart skip a beat. But it also thrills me to see her having so much fun with Angel, and to see the confidence she's gaining.
Heh. Yeah. Once again, she's proven to me that she is not one to be rushed, but that when she is good and ready, she can do anything she sets her mind to.
We've officially gone from, "C'mon, Chloe, trot!" to "Whoa, slow down!"
See that? She's loping! She has finally discovered what fun it is to sit astride a running horse... and now it's all she wants to do.
Yes, it makes my Mama-heart skip a beat. But it also thrills me to see her having so much fun with Angel, and to see the confidence she's gaining.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Potatoes: The Treasure Hunt
Some days, it's hard to tell the difference between what is work and what is play.
Take digging potatoes, for instance. Surely smiles like this don't come from hard work...
And laughter of this variety can't come from chores... can it?
Ah, but maybe it can.
There are some wonderful opportunities out there for convincing children that work really can feel like play, if only it's approached with the right attitude. Or if it's turned into a wrestling match for the biggest potato pulled out of the ground.
We've never grown potatoes before. This whole Digging Potatoes experience was a splendid one, for all three of us. It's a veritable treasure hunt, and one that requires Two Little Girls (and their Momma) to be elbow-deep in soil. And any job that involves a good bit of getting dirty is bound to be welcomed.
I'd love to offer you all a few great tips and hints for growing and harvesting potatoes, but I've got nothin'. We're brand new at this, and from all I have read, we did everything all wrong. The skins are thin because you're supposed to withhold water for a couple of weeks (someone should have told that to those rain storms that keep rolling through in the afternoons.) You're supposed to wait until the plants die back after frost to harvest, except that more than half of our potatoes already weighed over a pound and a half each, and I can't see letting them get any bigger. It'll only take one potato to feed all four of us at that rate.
So while they won't store in the cellar long, and they aren't anywhere close to being the perfectly shaped potatoes you find at the store, I'm sure we'll happily be eating baked potatoes and home-fries for a few weeks to come, anyway.
And next year, I'll read about harvesting potatoes before I decide to dig them all out of the ground. ;-)
Friday, September 14, 2012
Why I Saved that Fancy Dress
I remember going through my closet when we were packing to move to this house. As I got to the stash of formals and semi-formals pushed to the very back, I considered e-Baying them. After all, I'm a mom. Mothers have no reason to own a handful of different fancy dresses. Most of them haven't been worn since before The Oldest was born.
And then today, I received an invitation, written in pencil on construction paper, as I was fixing dinner. "Dance, dance, dance!" it read. "You are invited to Chloe and Cora's ball and feast. Please wear a fancy dress and dress shoes. Tickets are two dollars."
You should have seen their faces when I showed up in the play room wearing a shimmery, strappy semi-formal and sparkly silver heels. "Mom! You look.... um, you actually look.... pretty." Sigh. All that effort, and that was the best she could do for a compliment? But hey, a compliment's a compliment. I'll take it.
And so we turned on Vivaldi, and I twirled around the playroom in my fancy high heels, doing my best to look graceful while dancing with a four foot long stuffed dragon. Both girls (and several stuffed animals) gave speeches, we feasted on crocheted play food, and we danced some more. (The second time, I had the pleasure of dancing with Grover. He's a much better dancer than Dragon.) And then the timer rang saying dinner was done, so I bid them adieu, curtsied, and thanked them for the lovely time.
===
Did I have time for a ball just then? Of course not. If I'm to get all of the "important" stuff done around here, I'll never have time for such things.
Except that, at that very moment, that ball was the most important thing I could have done. I could tell because of the looks on their sweet faces - eyes wide and enormous grins, giggles and curtsies and faux-British accents that are saved for only the most special of moments.
I hope I remember more often to take care of those Very Important Things before anything else. Too often it seems that laundry, dishes, dirty floors and dusty furniture take precedence. How many times have I been invited to a play, or a puppet show, or a ballet recital, or a picnic, and couldn't find the time to attend? I'm not sure the number, but I'd be ashamed to admit it even if I did.
It won't be long before there are no more invitations, no more balls, no more stuffed animals, play food, and dress-up clothes. And those things are the ones that matter most of all.
And then today, I received an invitation, written in pencil on construction paper, as I was fixing dinner. "Dance, dance, dance!" it read. "You are invited to Chloe and Cora's ball and feast. Please wear a fancy dress and dress shoes. Tickets are two dollars."
You should have seen their faces when I showed up in the play room wearing a shimmery, strappy semi-formal and sparkly silver heels. "Mom! You look.... um, you actually look.... pretty." Sigh. All that effort, and that was the best she could do for a compliment? But hey, a compliment's a compliment. I'll take it.
And so we turned on Vivaldi, and I twirled around the playroom in my fancy high heels, doing my best to look graceful while dancing with a four foot long stuffed dragon. Both girls (and several stuffed animals) gave speeches, we feasted on crocheted play food, and we danced some more. (The second time, I had the pleasure of dancing with Grover. He's a much better dancer than Dragon.) And then the timer rang saying dinner was done, so I bid them adieu, curtsied, and thanked them for the lovely time.
===
Did I have time for a ball just then? Of course not. If I'm to get all of the "important" stuff done around here, I'll never have time for such things.
Except that, at that very moment, that ball was the most important thing I could have done. I could tell because of the looks on their sweet faces - eyes wide and enormous grins, giggles and curtsies and faux-British accents that are saved for only the most special of moments.
I hope I remember more often to take care of those Very Important Things before anything else. Too often it seems that laundry, dishes, dirty floors and dusty furniture take precedence. How many times have I been invited to a play, or a puppet show, or a ballet recital, or a picnic, and couldn't find the time to attend? I'm not sure the number, but I'd be ashamed to admit it even if I did.
It won't be long before there are no more invitations, no more balls, no more stuffed animals, play food, and dress-up clothes. And those things are the ones that matter most of all.
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Best Kind of Confident
Watching her at the 4-H horse show and gymkhana this weekend, I was so thrilled with the way she took it all in, never gave in to pressure, was incredibly sportsmanlike, and just had an overall wonderful attitude.
I attribute her awesomeness, at least in part, to the fact that she's homeschooled. She has no concept of competition. There is no need, in our home, to compete for first place. There has never been a need for her to consider what others might think of her, and so she has this confidence in herself that most kids never experience. My husband was homeschooled, and is exactly the same, and he totally gets her. Me, on the other hand... I find it all quite baffling. Endearing, to be sure, but utterly confusing. A life without comparing yourself to others? Without worrying about whether you're the best? I don't think I'd ever imagined such a thing until I started seeing the person she's turning out to be... and I love it.
My Oldest Girl, on her amazingly sweet and ever-so-patient old horse, had not the slightest chance of winning any events this weekend. But that didn't matter, she wasn't there to win. She was there just to do it, to get some experience and see what it was like and learn some things. When the other kids showed up dressed to the nines in rhinestone chaps, it never occurred to her that her attire was only average. When the other kids had fancy horses, it never crossed her mind that her 22 year old draft/pony cross wasn't up to par. When the other kids raced through the poles and barrels as fast as they could, she never felt like she had to do that. She happily walked her horse through each pattern, doing exactly what she felt comfortable doing. She might have been laughed at for being the slowest, or people might have felt sorry for her, but if they did, she never noticed.
When she was handed her first sixth place ribbon, she was tickled. She'd won something! In her mind, she walked away a winner. She was given a ribbon, and that meant she had been recognized for doing what she was doing. Blue or pink, it didn't matter. There were girls there crying, stomping, yelling at their parents, angry with their horses, because they hadn't gotten the first place ribbon. My kiddo couldn't understand that. She just patted Bandit's neck, told him he is the best horse in the whole world, and cheerfully tied that pink ribbon to her saddle.
The next day, she went on to win four fifth place ribbons, and even a fourth place ribbon. (This was because other girls were disqualified because their horses went too fast for the novice division.) By the end of the two days, she had a whole stack of ribbons. The color didn't matter. Now she has something to hang on her wall next to a picture of her and Bandit together, showing that they went out and did their best together - a cautious little girl and her ever-so-slow pony - working together, enjoying just being out around all those other people in that big arena.
She says next year she'd like to maybe try to win a third place ribbon. There it is again, that homeschool mentality. When you're schooled at home, and competition doesn't exist, the only person you have to compete with is yourself. Her goal for the next year is simply to improve her skills and do a little better next time. In her mind, that will mean she's won.
The highlight of the event came at the banquet, when it was announced that she had gotten first place in her division on the written horse test. A blue ribbon! She won a blue ribbon! She studied hard for that test, but also spent a lot of time reading her horse books just because she found them so interesting. And she was rewarded for it with a beautiful blue ribbon. I think we were all a little shocked... little Chloe, coming in almost last in nearly every event, walking away with the best score on the test. I told her what she lacks in speed, she makes up for in knowledge.
But at the end of the day, it wasn't that blue ribbon that mattered. The whole stack of different colored ribbons was nice and she's mighty proud of them, but what she kept talking about was how she wanted to go ride some more and practice some of the things she'd learned while she was there. She's sure Bandit can do it, and she can too, with a little bit of practice.
I want that innocence. I want her attitude. I want her confidence. That little girl inspires me, I tell ya.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
A Day Spa for Two Little Girls
This farmy life doesn't leave much time for being a girly girl. Reality is that sun and wind and dirt are a constant, and little girl skin and hair suffers. Mostly, we just ignore it, but once in awhile, it's fun for a girl to stay indoors and be pampered, to feel a little bit like a princess and just relax. For me, sometimes it's just nice to rejoice in the fact that I have Two Little Girls.
Yesterday morning after the animals were fed and the house was (mostly) clean, we retreated to the bathroom. There I gave them clay masks and cucumbers for their eyes...
We did a conditioning treatment on their hair...
And after they soaked their feet, I massaged them with oils and then gave them each a pedicure.
Since there was a dance in the evening, we sent some time fixing up their hair all pretty...
And they put on their favorite sundresses.
Of course, they didn't need a spa treatment to make them beautiful, but it was a great way to spend a morning. I spend so much time focused on getting things accomplished around here, it was great to just focus on my kiddos for awhile, and they seemed to really enjoy it.
Life with Two Little Girls is a good life, indeed.
Yesterday morning after the animals were fed and the house was (mostly) clean, we retreated to the bathroom. There I gave them clay masks and cucumbers for their eyes...
We did a conditioning treatment on their hair...
And after they soaked their feet, I massaged them with oils and then gave them each a pedicure.
Since there was a dance in the evening, we sent some time fixing up their hair all pretty...
And they put on their favorite sundresses.
Of course, they didn't need a spa treatment to make them beautiful, but it was a great way to spend a morning. I spend so much time focused on getting things accomplished around here, it was great to just focus on my kiddos for awhile, and they seemed to really enjoy it.
Life with Two Little Girls is a good life, indeed.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Family Game Night
After a week of work, school, and unpacking, it was time for Family Game Night.
Glad for Two Little Girls, a Daddy who plays with us, warm fires, snuggly pets, and fresh popcorn. It was a good way to spend an evening.
Glad for Two Little Girls, a Daddy who plays with us, warm fires, snuggly pets, and fresh popcorn. It was a good way to spend an evening.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Two Broken Hearts.
Being a Momma is hard. Really hard. It's hard to keep up with housework, it's hard to try to be patient, it's hard to homeschool, it's hard to teach right from wrong.
But I discovered today what is even harder than any of those things.
Today I had to tell my sweet girls that their newest best friend, Cowboy, had died.
When we went out on Sunday for them to ride him, we could tell he wasn't feeling well. He was lying in his stall instead of eating, and acting like he was in pain. It didn't take long to realize he was colicking, though something more might have been going on. We likely won't ever know for sure. A couple of visits to the vet didn't help much, and he lived only a couple more days.
Breaking that news to my daughters is high on the list of Most Awful Parenting Moments. They only had him for two months, but with such a sweet little horse, that was plenty of time for them to love him dearly. No Momma ever wants to break her daughters' hearts, and that was the job I got to do today.
Chloe reacted in typical Chloe fashion. She shut down, refused to talk or even let me see her face. She spent a good long while lying on my bed crying quietly with me beside her. As I type tonight, she's drawing pictures of him, the coping strategy she turns to most often. Cora was far more outwardly emotional... and that was hard. The look in her little eyes, the quiver of her chin, those big, huge tears. Four is too young to learn how it feels to lose a friend.
And he was an amazing little friend. No little horse could have a sweeter disposition, so patient and gentle and calm. He put up with everything - having his mane and tail brushed and brushed and brushed, having a nine year old try to teach him how to turn on the forehand or learn to lunge him. He took it all in stride. You just don't find horses like that every day, and especially not miniature horses.
I'm so sad for them. He opened up a new world for them, a world I want to see them continue enjoying. Not to say we'll never find another great horse, but he really was special. I hate that such a wonderful experience for them was so short-lived, that they couldn't have enjoyed him for longer. I hate that such a wonderful little horse's life ended much too soon.
But I discovered today what is even harder than any of those things.
Today I had to tell my sweet girls that their newest best friend, Cowboy, had died.
When we went out on Sunday for them to ride him, we could tell he wasn't feeling well. He was lying in his stall instead of eating, and acting like he was in pain. It didn't take long to realize he was colicking, though something more might have been going on. We likely won't ever know for sure. A couple of visits to the vet didn't help much, and he lived only a couple more days.
Breaking that news to my daughters is high on the list of Most Awful Parenting Moments. They only had him for two months, but with such a sweet little horse, that was plenty of time for them to love him dearly. No Momma ever wants to break her daughters' hearts, and that was the job I got to do today.
Chloe reacted in typical Chloe fashion. She shut down, refused to talk or even let me see her face. She spent a good long while lying on my bed crying quietly with me beside her. As I type tonight, she's drawing pictures of him, the coping strategy she turns to most often. Cora was far more outwardly emotional... and that was hard. The look in her little eyes, the quiver of her chin, those big, huge tears. Four is too young to learn how it feels to lose a friend.
And he was an amazing little friend. No little horse could have a sweeter disposition, so patient and gentle and calm. He put up with everything - having his mane and tail brushed and brushed and brushed, having a nine year old try to teach him how to turn on the forehand or learn to lunge him. He took it all in stride. You just don't find horses like that every day, and especially not miniature horses.
I'm so sad for them. He opened up a new world for them, a world I want to see them continue enjoying. Not to say we'll never find another great horse, but he really was special. I hate that such a wonderful experience for them was so short-lived, that they couldn't have enjoyed him for longer. I hate that such a wonderful little horse's life ended much too soon.
Little Girl Dress-up Fun
Our home is well stocked with dress-up clothes. My children, however, have been on dress-up hiatus for some time now. I assumed, when I packed them, that the dress up clothes would not be missed between now and the time we move.
I was wrong. The sudden urge to dress up like a princess (or bag lady) came upon my smallest daughter yesterday in a desperate kind of way. And there were no dress up things for her to exercise this adorable, ultra-girly form of creativity.
So I did what I used to do for her big sister, back in the days before we had a great stash of play clothes. I opened up my closet, pulled a few things out, and gave her free reign of my scarves, hats, and jewelry box. (I'd say shoes, too, except that... I packed them.) She took care of her own make-up, and the result was... well, adorable, if not quite "princessy."
Big, flowy blouse-turned-dress with a scarf for a belt; a kerchief-shawl and a crocheted hat...
Complete with dirty old cowboy boots on the wrong feet (I kept out the necessities. She didn't seem to mind the lack of high heels though.)
And lots of "real" jewelry.
All dressed up, she sighed happily and said, "I look like a real Mama now."
Is this really what she thinks I look like every day? Hmm...
Then a change of accessories...
And then it was "I don't feel like a princess now. Or like a Mama. I kind of think I look like... a beggar woman." And then, because in her fairy-tale laden little mind, being a beggar woman is a rather romantic notion, she began dancing around the kitchen in the most beautiful way she knows how.
Proof that fancy dress-up clothes aren't needed at all... and that sometimes Mama's closet is more fun anyway!
This is how I spend my afternoons when all of the stress of the Moving To-Do List gets to be too much for me. :o)
I was wrong. The sudden urge to dress up like a princess (or bag lady) came upon my smallest daughter yesterday in a desperate kind of way. And there were no dress up things for her to exercise this adorable, ultra-girly form of creativity.
So I did what I used to do for her big sister, back in the days before we had a great stash of play clothes. I opened up my closet, pulled a few things out, and gave her free reign of my scarves, hats, and jewelry box. (I'd say shoes, too, except that... I packed them.) She took care of her own make-up, and the result was... well, adorable, if not quite "princessy."
Big, flowy blouse-turned-dress with a scarf for a belt; a kerchief-shawl and a crocheted hat...
Complete with dirty old cowboy boots on the wrong feet (I kept out the necessities. She didn't seem to mind the lack of high heels though.)
And lots of "real" jewelry.
All dressed up, she sighed happily and said, "I look like a real Mama now."
Is this really what she thinks I look like every day? Hmm...
Then a change of accessories...
And then it was "I don't feel like a princess now. Or like a Mama. I kind of think I look like... a beggar woman." And then, because in her fairy-tale laden little mind, being a beggar woman is a rather romantic notion, she began dancing around the kitchen in the most beautiful way she knows how.
Proof that fancy dress-up clothes aren't needed at all... and that sometimes Mama's closet is more fun anyway!
This is how I spend my afternoons when all of the stress of the Moving To-Do List gets to be too much for me. :o)
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Nine! and Slumber Party Photos
Time flies, doesn't it? My sweet Biggest Girl turned nine this weekend! We had three friends over for her first slumber party, and it was a great success.
While Chloe was out of the house, Cora and I decorated the front walk:
And the living room (in an attempt to make it look more festive, since we're moving and every room looks naked right now, save for boxes in every corner.)
With Grammy's help, we made the cake:
And then waited for the birthday girl and her guests to arrive. They were all pretty excited.
Littlest One was excited too.
She enjoyed the first half of the party before going to Grammy's house to spend the night.
We had dinner, then cake and ice cream...
with confetti poppers, because they're just so much fun.
And then opened presents.
Yes, she's hugging a lava lamp.
There was some craziness with balloons..
And then they all got to decorate their own pillowcase with fabric markers.
And since no party at our house is complete without some kind of paint, we did handprints on the backs of the pillowcases.
There were horse-head shaped cookies to decorate,
and a wild game of Twister Hoopla, one of the gifts she received from her friends.
Then we settled down with lights off, and some glow-sticks to keep the fun going a bit longer.
Sleep finally came around 1:00... it was a long, long night. But we survived. :o)
Homemade fried donuts and fruit for breakfast
and then they settled in making beaded bracelets until the mamas came to pick them up.
Overall, it was a really great party! Chloe declared it "The Best Birthday Ever", though I think she's said that about every birthday she's had. But anyhow, I'd call it a success.
Happy Birthday, my sweet Chloe! So glad you had a great time!
While Chloe was out of the house, Cora and I decorated the front walk:
And the living room (in an attempt to make it look more festive, since we're moving and every room looks naked right now, save for boxes in every corner.)
With Grammy's help, we made the cake:
And then waited for the birthday girl and her guests to arrive. They were all pretty excited.
Littlest One was excited too.
She enjoyed the first half of the party before going to Grammy's house to spend the night.
We had dinner, then cake and ice cream...
with confetti poppers, because they're just so much fun.
And then opened presents.
Yes, she's hugging a lava lamp.
There was some craziness with balloons..
And then they all got to decorate their own pillowcase with fabric markers.
And since no party at our house is complete without some kind of paint, we did handprints on the backs of the pillowcases.
There were horse-head shaped cookies to decorate,
and a wild game of Twister Hoopla, one of the gifts she received from her friends.
Then we settled down with lights off, and some glow-sticks to keep the fun going a bit longer.
Sleep finally came around 1:00... it was a long, long night. But we survived. :o)Homemade fried donuts and fruit for breakfast
and then they settled in making beaded bracelets until the mamas came to pick them up.
Overall, it was a really great party! Chloe declared it "The Best Birthday Ever", though I think she's said that about every birthday she's had. But anyhow, I'd call it a success.Happy Birthday, my sweet Chloe! So glad you had a great time!
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Little Homeschool Gems
The best kind of home school book combines two or more subjects into one "living" account, and all the better if it combines both of my girls' age/grade levels as well. Gems like this aren't always easy to come by, so I thought I'd share this one with you:
This book, and others in the series, were published at the turn of the 20th century. (Why does it seem as though the most useful books for schooling our children were written over 100 years ago? But it does often turn out that way.) We're only a few short stories into it, but both girls are riveted and work diligently through their other schoolwork for the reward of the Farmyard People.
Ms. Pierson was truly brilliant in her writing - not just for the beauty of her descriptions, but the thought that went into the little fables. Each story teaches nature by using animals as the characters and describing events in their lives as they might speak about them. The stories are factual and informative but are also just plain interesting. And - even better - each story teaches a character lesson. The rude young dove that needed a good scolding from his mother; the vain lamb with the long tail (that was soon to be cut off.) The stories are so easy to relate to real life that even my four year old can see the parallels.
After we finish the Farmyard People (figured I'd use it as a precursor to relocating Two Little Girls to the farm in the Tiny Little Town) we'll move on to stories about the Forest People, the Meadow People, the Pond People. I can't wait, and they can't either.
Here's the best part though: if you have a Kindle (or a smart phone with a Kindle app) these books are all free for download. Score for the frugal homeschool mom. I'm the first to admit that there is something far more satisfying about holding an actual paper book in one's hands, but homeschool can get expensive, and any book available for free is worth downloading. The ones that turn out to be really wonderful will eventually make their way into our "real life" library as they are found.
If you're in the market for fantastic, intelligent children's literature and are trying to work on a tight budget, check out the Amazon Kindle versions before you buy the paper version. Nearly every great children's classic can be found for free, it seems, if you just take a minute to look. And I don't have a Kindle, I just have a Smart Phone. The Amazon Kindle app came free with it. Granted it eats battery like crazy, but I can sit in my rocker with my phone plugged into the wall and read to them for as long as they'll sit. It's like Little House on the Prairie... with a Smart Phone.
This book, and others in the series, were published at the turn of the 20th century. (Why does it seem as though the most useful books for schooling our children were written over 100 years ago? But it does often turn out that way.) We're only a few short stories into it, but both girls are riveted and work diligently through their other schoolwork for the reward of the Farmyard People.
Ms. Pierson was truly brilliant in her writing - not just for the beauty of her descriptions, but the thought that went into the little fables. Each story teaches nature by using animals as the characters and describing events in their lives as they might speak about them. The stories are factual and informative but are also just plain interesting. And - even better - each story teaches a character lesson. The rude young dove that needed a good scolding from his mother; the vain lamb with the long tail (that was soon to be cut off.) The stories are so easy to relate to real life that even my four year old can see the parallels.
After we finish the Farmyard People (figured I'd use it as a precursor to relocating Two Little Girls to the farm in the Tiny Little Town) we'll move on to stories about the Forest People, the Meadow People, the Pond People. I can't wait, and they can't either.
Here's the best part though: if you have a Kindle (or a smart phone with a Kindle app) these books are all free for download. Score for the frugal homeschool mom. I'm the first to admit that there is something far more satisfying about holding an actual paper book in one's hands, but homeschool can get expensive, and any book available for free is worth downloading. The ones that turn out to be really wonderful will eventually make their way into our "real life" library as they are found.
If you're in the market for fantastic, intelligent children's literature and are trying to work on a tight budget, check out the Amazon Kindle versions before you buy the paper version. Nearly every great children's classic can be found for free, it seems, if you just take a minute to look. And I don't have a Kindle, I just have a Smart Phone. The Amazon Kindle app came free with it. Granted it eats battery like crazy, but I can sit in my rocker with my phone plugged into the wall and read to them for as long as they'll sit. It's like Little House on the Prairie... with a Smart Phone.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Living Deliberately
de·lib·er·ate
[adj. dih-lib-er-it; v. dih-lib-uh-reyt] adjective, verb, -at·ed, -at·ing.
ər
adjective
1.
carefully weighed or considered; studied; intentional: a deliberate lie.
2.
3.
===
Mama Kautz asked a great question on Facebook this morning: do you have a word for 2012? Her word is "simple" and I'm looking forward to seeing her move her family closer to that word each day.
My word is "deliberate". I want to live deliberately, and encourage my daughters to do the same. My husband is already deliberate. Maybe he can give me lessons.
Note some of the key words in the above definitions: slow. unhurried. careful.
I'm a spazz by nature. I get an idea in my head and I run with it without ever looking back. Without thinking twice, without considering the consequences. At times this can be good - it means I accomplish a lot sometimes - but there are times that when I finally do look back I shake my head and wonder what on earth I was thinking. I don't want to have to wonder any more!
It's easy to get so caught up in everything going on that we just sort of "float" through our days, float through life, going through the motions without putting any thought or meaning into anything. I want to stop doing that! Every little thing we, as wives and mothers, do can be meaningful if we choose to give it purpose, if we think about it before we act. I want to create the habit of carefully, even prayerfully considering each thing I do as a wife and mother and homemaker.
Moving to a farm has been a very deliberate action. We have considered carefully and slowly the right type of land, we have saved money intentionally, over the past few years we have prepared ourselves with skills to use when we begin our new lifestyle out in the country. It seems to be a good start for my Year of Living Deliberately.
===
So what is your word for the year? What adjective are you going to strive for? I do look forward to hearing about it! Maybe we can convince Mama Kautz to do a weekly link-up as we check in with our progress for living the word we choose for the new year...
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