Month at a {Backwards} Glance

Do I do this every year?

When the end of January rolls around, I think to myself, "Oh my goodness, one-twelfth of the year is gone already!  How can it be?  Didn't we just start this year?"

I've been having that thought a lot today, but I don't think it's an original one.  Yes, I'm pretty sure I think that every single year.  :)

I love January in the same way that I love Mondays.  They're so full of clean slates...unlimited potential...hopes and dreams...energy.  In the course of a week, Tuesdays are often a little harder for me than Mondays; and likewise, February is usually more of a challenge than January (although I'm hopeful that this February will be characterized by cheerfulness and contentment).  Anyway, when this January rolled around, I was happy and excited as I looked to the future, and the month started out great.  

And then...

We all got sick.  We strive to be a generous family, so we passed our germs around to each other and shared the yuckiness, even being so kind as to give it to my parents as well.  Generosity has its limits.  :)  

I've never had a flu shot, and I've often wondered why people (people who are generally healthy and not at any particular risk) would get one.  After all, how bad could the flu be anyway?  Let's just say that now I understand why someone might get a flu shot!  Fortunately, it wasn't the stomach flu with lots of vomit to clean up; but the fevers and aches and chills and cough and fatigue, etc. were exhausting, draining, painful, and lingering.  I'm used to getting a little bug, feeling poorly for a few days, then basically being back to normal.  But not with this particular sickness.  It felt like it would hang on forever.  So my high hopes for January were lowered when I realized that a few weeks of the month were basically erased because of illness.

And then...

We got better!  And life glided on, with mostly smooth sailing.

We homeschooled.  (One of the many advantages of homeschooling is that you can still do it--at least, some of it--when the family is sick, so there's not a big pile of work that needs to be made up when the students recover.)

Jeff took the three big boys individually out for breakfast, each on their own Wednesday morning.

We moved more of my parents' stuff into their "new" house.

We (the four of us who were feeling up to it) went to a potluck at the Sacras.

Tobin had a birthday.

Violin lessons began again for Josiah, as did choir.

I went out for dinner with Julie, Misty, and Lindsey; girls' night out is always fun.

I started this new blog.

Snow fell, and we played in it.

I made good progress in cleaning off the porch (a catch-all spot for a huge assortment of mostly junk with a few important things thrown in).

Misty and her husband Chris had us over for dinner in their new home.

We traveled long distances for church services and continued to ponder where God is leading us.

We went to the library, we fed our animals, we got warm by our woodstove, we gathered around our table for nourishment and companionship.

One thing that we didn't do much of this month was extending hospitality to others; it was actually the "quietest" month in that regard that we've had for quite a long time.  Sickness will do that.  I've learned, in fact, that when sickness settles over our household, it's also possible to invite peace to descend with it:  peace that comes from canceling (albeit reluctantly) previously-scheduled obligations, peace that comes from clearing the calendar and relishing the white space on it where ink usually is, peace that comes from remembering that God knows exactly what is going on in the little bodies of the sons we love so dearly and He holds each of them--and us--tenderly in the palm of His hand.

And the peace that comes from extra naps and extra snuggles and extra love being doled out along with the cough medicine?

That's awfully nice, too.  :)

In the Nation's Capital

During a quick, impromptu trip to our nation's capital today, we learned a few things.

1. Driving--and parking--in downtown D.C. is MUCH better on Sunday than on any other day of the week.  It was actually fairly pleasant to drive through the city streets this morning!

2. A group of people, carrying huge flags and banners with Arabic writing, marched through the streets, past the window of the restaurant in which we ate.  It wasn't difficult to guess that they were marching in support of the people of Egypt.  Our hearts go out to the people there.

3.  D.C. has beautiful buildings, imposing statues, and a weighty sense of power that pervades the city.  Yet more alluring to me than the grandest monument...

...was the face of my dear little Shav, who was so tired as we left the city that he immediately started...well...sleeping like a baby.

More marvelous than the construction required to build the Washington Monument...

...was the construction God used to form my sweet Tobin Bear.

When I look at their faces and catch a glimpse, through their eyes, of their souls, I realize again that...

...things, no matter how impressive, are ultimately meaningless.  

Every Time It Snows

We've lived here for over five years; and every time it snows, I can hardly wait to grab a few spare moments to walk around outside, camera in hand, and try to capture a piece of the beauty that is all around.  I say "try," because honestly, there is no way to describe in words or capture in a photograph how wondrously gorgeous it is.  

I 

LOVE

SNOW!

I do have to laugh a little at myself, however, because really, the scenery hasn't changed much since the last time it was snowing and I was snapping pictures!  It's sort of like how we would act when we went on vacation every year when I was growing up:  always to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, always to the same beach cottage, always visiting "our" beloved lighthouse...and always taking pictures of it.  Why did we do that?  The lighthouse certainly hadn't changed from one year to another, but inevitably, we would come home from vacation, get our film developed (back in the pre-digital camera days!), and discover at least two or three lighthouse pictures--just like the ones we had taken the year before...and the year before that...and the year before that...

So it is with the snow.  

I take pictures of the view out our front window (this first photo was taken on Wednesday morning, when we barely had anything on the ground, but already schools were cancelled, businesses were closed, almost all of Jeff's co-workers didn't come to work so he had to go in on his day off, and he was ranting a little bit about how wimpy these Valley folk are when it comes to snow!...I'm one of them, so I'll simply say...well...he's right...but hey, we like snow days, and it's fun to cancel everything and stay home so we can go sledding and eat snow and drink hot chocolate with little boys with rosy cheeks!...so what's the big deal?!)...  ;-)

...and a few hours later, the same view, but with actual snow covering the ground (at this point, Jeff was starting to come around and admit that maybe the forecasters were correct and maybe it was wise for schools to be cancelled and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to tolerate living here in the Valley for a little longer).  ;-)

I take pictures of Josiah and David sledding with the next-door neighbor girls (who are Old Order Mennonites, but they don't let their bonnets and dresses stop them from having a blast in the snow!).

I have, in my mind's eye, a certain way I'd like to snag a photo of the snow blanketing the pine needles...

...but I can never quite capture it...

...but I try.  Every year.

The bright holly berries always grab my attention with the splash of color they bring to the otherwise muted landscape.  But how many pictures of snow on holly do I need anyway?

This particular storm began with ice rain before the snow started falling; and on these leaves, I noticed how the ice was visible under the snow.  I must have a picture of that!

But the thing--the one thing--that was unique in my stroll around the yard was this:  stumps of wood left from when we had some trees cut down last summer.

We used the trees for firewood, but these stumps were far too big to split with the wood splitter our kind friend Kevin Driver let us borrow.

So here they sit, outside our woodshed, almost too heavy to do anything with.  I suppose we'll someday find a way to roll them into our pasture so our goats can have fun climbing on them.

I know they're not beautiful in the conventional sense of the word; but when I lingered by them and looked more closely at the wood, I began to appreciate the texture and the shades of color and the lines of these sculptures made by nature itself.

To me, they looked like pieces of a huge board game, abandoned by giants who had once found entertainment there but had then wandered away to search for diversion elsewhere.  Giants must not be very good at putting their toys away, so these pieces got left out in the snow to be capped with soft white hats.  

If you think from my whimsy that I've been immersed in the land of Narnia for too long, you just might be right.  ;-)

18 Months and 8 Days

It's official:  Shav has hit the 18-months-and-8-days mark.  What's so special about that, you ask?  Only this:  when Tobin was 18 months and 8 days, Shav was born; and so, if we had repeated the pattern, I would be having a baby today!  Obviously I'm not (and no, I'm not pregnant, for those of you who were wondering about that!).  Although something deep inside me longs to once again bring forth life from my womb, I'm also secretly (or not-so-secretly, now that I've written it here!) relieved that I'm still "just" a mother of four.  Having two babies so close together--close by my standards; I do realize lots of women have babies even closer together than that--was quite the s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g experience for me; and I don't mind a bit that here at this 18-months-and-8-days milestone, Shav is still my baby.  :)

These are some of the things that I want to remember about Shav at this stage of life:

~ When I lay him down in his crib, he lifts his chin so I can tuck his blanket under it, then he puts his chin back down to anchor, so to speak, the blanket in place...so sweet!  Or, more commonly these days, he pushes the blankets off, then stands up and holds onto the crib railing to watch me go.

~ He thinks the BEST thing in the world is climbing our steps...at the top, he sits down, turns around, and looks imploringly around for someone to help him back down the steps so he can do it all over again!  Who needs a playground when you've got steps?

~ After his slow (according to "normal" standards) start in the area of large motor skills, he has progressed by leaps and bounds recently, especially in the area of climbing.  It's not only the steps that delight him; he's perfectly happy to climb on anything he can find:  the black bench in our kitchen, the school desk in the living room, the stool in the bathroom, the little desk in Tobin's room, a little rocking chair in the living room, the couch...not to mention, climb on people!  One day recently when I was trying to fold laundry in my room, he pushed a chair over to my bed, climbed up on the chair, from that climbed onto the bed; and I abandoned my laundry-folding project and switched my focus to Operation Keep Shav from Falling off the Bed!  He can climb up on things much better than he can climb down, so he often gets stuck and needs to be rescued.  Besides that, he has no fear or concept of what happens if he, for example, is sitting on the edge of the bed and loses his balance.  Watching him convinces me anew that a little bit of fear is a very healthy thing to have!  :)

~ He's beginning to enjoy the wrestling and roughhousing that is common around here.  Sometimes I have to remind Tobin to take it easy with Shav; but in general the wrestling with Shav is gentle, and he eats it up.  He's starting to make that familiar transition from being attached to Mommy to being enchanted with Daddy, getting so excited when he hears Jeff's Jeep come roaring into the garage in the evening and scooting quickly towards the gate (that blocks the steps to the garage) so that he can greet his daddy.  He's becoming one of the boys, not a baby; and when the after-dinner tickling and wrestling begins, he wants to be in the thick of it.

~ Shav has not been a world-champion sleeper (as I've written about several times in my previous blog:  for example, here); but I have seen steady improvement in that area during the month of January.  I realize that by writing that, I'm guaranteeing that he will wake up tonight since that's the way it always seems to go!  :)  However, I'm going to take the risk because for the sake of my memory in the future, I want to know that by the time he was a year and a half old, he had turned into a pretty good sleeper.  A few weeks ago, he had some interrupted nights, but we were all battling some sickness and I wasn't surprised.  Once in a while, he will wake in the night and need to be soothed; but those random nights now seem to be the exception rather than the norm.  We have a fan in his room that is rather noisy, and I think that helps his sleep.  When I'm sitting in my rocking chair right outside his room late at night, writing on my blog or doing other online activities, I'll hear him stir in his sleep; but usually he settles himself back down without trouble.  I am SO grateful for this development!!!  :)

~ Another wonderful thing about Shav at this stage is that he generally wakes up happy.  It's not uncommon for him to play contentedly in his crib for a little while after waking.  He stands up, looks out the window right by his crib, throws his blankets and stuffed animals out of the crib and watches them land in a heap on the floor, plays with--and breaks--the miniblinds (it's a very good thing they only cost a few dollars because he loves to twist and bend and otherwise mutilate them!).  David and Tobin love to run to Shav's room when he wakes up to play with him--David gets in the crib and Tobin stands on the floor beside it--and Shav is happy to welcome them to his room.

~ One more thing I should mention about sleep issues is related to my query back in December about whether he was having night terrors.  I don't know this for a fact, but I have a strong suspicion that it was not night terrors we were dealing with, but instead was some kind of pain.  My theory was supported by an event that occurred a couple weeks ago:  Shav was playing in Tobin's room and fell fairly hard, hitting his head, I believe...and then he cried...and cried some more...and cried even more.  He hardly knew what to do with himself--one minute holding up his arms to me so I would pick him up (which I did, of course), but after a few seconds, squirming for me to put him down.  He seemed beside himself and would not settle down to receive my comfort.  In other words, he acted just like he had during those nights when I wondered if he was having night terrors.  So that made me suspect that during those spells, he was really dealing with some kind of pain and couldn't express it in any other way than crying inconsolably.  But who knows?  It's still somewhat of a mystery; and if it was pain, what kind of pain?  Head?  Tummy?  At any rate, we seem to have moved past that for which I am very grateful; and even if it does recur, I think I'll have a little better idea how to handle it.

~ He loves to wave bye, and he has such a cute way of doing it.  I love to watch his little hands as he flaps them in the air!  He'll wave to me when I'm out on the porch getting wood for our woodstove, at Grandpa and Grandma as they prepare to go home in the evenings, at cars going by on the road outside our house, at the servers at Golden Corral where we recently ate for Jeff's Family Night, and at anything else that captures his attention.  Before he outgrows this stage, I have got to get a video of him waving.  :)

~ He hasn't taken his first solo steps yet.  He cruises like a pro, and he occasionally crawls on hands and knees or on all fours like a bear; but when he's in a hurry (like when my parents are saying goodnight and going down the hill to their house after supper and he wants to go over to them to get a goodbye hug), he scoots.  :)  I can't think of any good reason to hurry him into taking his first steps, so I just wait patiently, knowing that the day is drawing nearer (and hoping that I'll have my camera ready to take a video when it does happen, just like I did with Tobin!).  :)

~ Shav has become my faithful laundry "helper."  He loves to stand on a stool in front of the washing machine and use my laundry stick (AKA wooden spoon) to poke at the clothes I put in the washer...not that he can really reach them, but as he gets taller, he'll be able to...and when I'm done filling the machine, I lift him up so that he can reach inside better.  I'm a little concerned that he'll lose his balance and fall off the stool and hit his head on the hard cement floor, so I stand right next to him and also pull our hampers over to him so that he's surrounded by soft(er) things if he takes a tumble.  That's only happened once so far; and oddly, it happened at the exact same moment David was falling down the stairs right outside the laundry room door.  I had two crying boys to comfort; but thankfully, neither was seriously injured.  And it didn't stop Shav from being my cheerful laundry helper the next time I was ready to tackle the piles of dirty clothes.

~ When Shav started his recent unauthorized climbing expeditions :), I got out the playpen again so that, when I wasn't available to supervise his exploits, he could play safely in it.  He has done really well with this!  Right now there is a box of blocks in the playpen, a big popcorn tin of cars, and the plastic tool set Tobin got for his birthday.  Shav can entertain himself for quite a long time with those things.  He loves moving objects from one container to another, and I appreciate the fact that he's learning the joy and self-discipline of playing alone (and not needing to be constantly entertained by someone else).  Although, he's not always alone in there.  Frequently, David or Tobin will want to join him in the playpen.  :)

~ Shav loves to watch what his brothers and other people are doing.  Even though he can play by himself like I just mentioned, he also really, really loves being with people and interacting with them...especially his big brothers.  ;-)

~ As far as food, I basically give him whatever we're eating, although if we're having something that he's not very familiar with or that would be hard for him to chew or something like that, I'll add in something for him that's easy.  I'm not even sure of what his favorite foods are because he's usually content to eat the same food as us, but I have noticed that he likes having a bowl and spoon and is getting more skillful with them.  Of course, he still does a lot with finger foods, but at this stage of life, he really seems to enjoy the thrill of a bowl and spoon.  :)

Despite these pictures...

...he doesn't really drink...

...lemon juice!!  ;-)

~ Shav has been in the delightful stage of shaking his head "no" in response to any question.  We've had a lot of fun with this--especially David, who has invented all kinds of silly questions to ask him.  I tried to make a little movie of this the other day, but he didn't cooperate like I wanted him to.  Oh, well, it still holds a memory for me.  :)

~ Shav gives great hugs.  He'll lay his little head down on my left shoulder and put his arms around me.  Makes me melt every single time.  :)

My blogging friend Patti wrote a wonderful post yesterday in honor of her son's fourth birthday, and she ended with words that I'm going to borrow.  After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?  :)  So, in the words of Patti, but applied to my Shav...

I love him so much it aches.  What joy to have a son.

Wordless Whatever-Day-It-Is {Joy}

Blogging Is Dangerous

Here is just one of the reasons why blogging is dangerous.

Someone could look at this picture of David...

...and think, "Wow, look at that!  David is only five years old, and already he's smart enough to know how to play chess and mature enough to sit still to do it.  Davene really does a good job of instilling self-discipline in her kids!"

You could think that, but you might be wrong.  David is definitely smart and wonderful and cute and lovable and a whole host of positive attributes, but let me show you another picture--this one of a book on my to-read list--that perhaps gives a more rounded view of him these days.

OK, to set the record straight, it's not that I've actually found him on the refrigerator--yet.  It's just that, boy, oh boy, that boy has energy!  He is a wiggly, squirmy, jumping bean, who loves to invade people's personal space and can hardly stand to not be in motion.  What do you do with a boy like that?

Well, in warm weather, you turn him out of doors and let him run off some steam in the yard.  But in this cold late January bleakness, that's not so appealing.  (Fortunately, yesterday we were blessed with a wonderful snowfall, and the boys got to spend hours of fun playing in it.)  Getting him to sit still--whether it be to listen to me reading books for school or to sit with the family and eat supper or any other sedentary activity--is often a challenge; and finding the balance of God-made-him-to-be-an-energetic-boy versus David-needs-to-learn-discipline-so-he-can-control-his-urges is just as challenging.

All of that to say this:  when you see a picture like this...

...please realize that this tiny peek into someone's life through a blog can be distorted and misleading.  I strive to be transparent, and it's certainly not my intention to distort or mislead; but I know from personal experience how easy it is to see the words and images that make it past that "Publish" button and then to construct an identity for someone based on that limited information.  I would hate for another mom to feel bad about herself or her children, just because of a glimpse into my life.  Because trust me, we've got messes--not just scattered bowls on the floor--but character issues that we deal with, personality traits that irritate, and sinful choices that are much harder to clean up than the aftermath of Shav's playtime!

Well, now that we've established the fact that blogging is dangerous...and comparison is unhealthy...and my family has issues...let me end with something cheerful:  a picture of David's opponent in his chess game.

How good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity!

~ Psalm 133:1

If My Internet Connection Were a Bible Verse...

...which one would it be?

That's easy!  Psalm 78:57, of course.  "Why?" you ask.  Because these words - "as unreliable as a faulty bow" - seem to describe our Internet connection more often than we'd like!  It's eye-opening to see how dependent I've become on the Internet and how 24 hours without it tests me.  What would Laura and Mary, Ma and Pa think of me?  ;-)

We Need Another "A"

One of the boys--surely it was David--made a roster of our family with our well-used Fridge Phonics letters.  He did well with it...until he ran out of "A's."  That caused a minor problem--see it?

Poor Jeff.  It's tough being last.  If only David's improvisatory way of spelling "Dad" didn't have such a fatal ring to it!  :)

Besides more "A's," the other thing our family needs is a maid...

...someone to go around behind these two whirlwinds and clean up the mayhem they leave behind.

So far, we haven't had too many applications for the job, and so...

...the messes continue.

But at least, they're having fun!  Cute little chaos-causers!  ;-)

Discoveries

Discovery #1

If you wait long enough--say, two or three or ten years--to sort through a pile of paperwork, you'll find that virtually all of it is outdated and worthless and ready to be put in the pile of kindling to get the next fire going in your woodstove!  It surely makes sorting through old papers easy.  ;-)

The exception to this rule is if you happen to find an old check that you never cashed, and now it's much too old to be worth anything, and you're kicking yourself for, in essence, throwing money away.  That happened to me once, and I still cringe at the memory.


Discovery #2

Jeff did a personality test last evening and discovered that he's an ENFJ.  He wanted me to take it, so I did--haltingly--asking his opinion when I got to the hard questions...like "Do I tend to be unbiased even if this might endanger my good relations with people?" and "Am I somewhat reserved and distant in communication?" etc.  (To that one, he said "yes," but I thought surely, "no.")  Finally he urged me to stop asking him the answers and just fill it out the best I could.  :)

My result?  INFJ.  I think that's slightly different than what I was in college, but I can't remember for sure.  I know the "I" was there, and I'm almost positive the "J" was, too.  But maybe I was ISFJ?  Stephanie, who was a fellow music major in college, was the same classification as I was; she occasionally reads my blog, and perhaps her memory is better than mine and she knows what we were back in those days.

From this site, I learned that only one percent of the population is INFJ, so we're very rare.  I'm also "a perfectionist who doubts that [I'm] living up to [my] full potential."  In addition, INFJs "make loving parents and usually have strong bonds with their offspring."  That's good to know.  :)


Discovery #3

Hearing your sleeping child break out in laughter in the middle of the night is a wondrous thing.  What makes him laugh???


Discovery #4

Exactly 17 years ago, on January 23, 1994, I heard a sermon by our friend Jim Nichols entitled, "When God Is Silent."  (I know this because I found a copy of my notes from that sermon when I was going through a pile of {mostly useless} papers!)  Yesterday, on January 23, 2011, I heard another sermon on the same topic, "Know Who's Talking to You," preached by Phil Booker.  Both deal with hearing God's voice; and although I can't recall what specific impact the sermon in 1994 had on me, I know for sure that this topic is extremely important for me here in 2011--specifically, as we continue to seek for God's direction in the area of church fellowship.

The quote that stood out to me the most yesterday was this:

I can't think of anyone in the Bible who followed Jesus and didn't have courage.

Hmmm...neither can I.  But truthfully, does it take much--or any--courage to be a part of the normal American Christian church?

Sometimes the Solution Is Simple

Two days ago, I lamented the disorganized state of my bedroom, including the ever-present baskets of clean clothes waiting to be folded and put away.  Since that time, I haven't carved out any significant amount of time to transform my room; but I was struck by one single, simple idea for how to positively change it.  

Ready for this?  Here it is:

Don't put the baskets of clean laundry in that room until I'm ready to fold them.

Brilliant, isn't it?  ;-)

The thing with laundry is that, although it's one of the household tasks that I've always enjoyed (as I was growing up, I would have chosen laundry over cleaning every time!), it's also a job that feels--and literally is--never-ending.  With six people in our family, we create a substantial amount of laundry every single day, so the task is truly never done.  I've discovered that it fits the rhythm of my days for me to have a load or two of laundry washed and dried by the time I go to bed at night so that in the morning, soon after breakfast and before Shav takes his morning nap and we begin school, I can fold and put away those clothes.  While I'm doing it, Shav--and usually some of his big brothers--play contentedly upstairs which gives them a change of scenery from our living room/kitchen area.  So it's a good system that's working well for us right now.  

However, inevitably those baskets of clothes that were waiting to be folded in the morning would end up on my cedar chest at the end of my bed, and I would have to look at them all night.  Well, not when my eyes were closed.  ;-)  But I would see them before I went to sleep and when I woke up, and they just made the room feel very messy.

I have no idea why I didn't think of this long ago, but I have now decided that I don't have to carry those baskets upstairs at night--imagine that!  The wonderful black bench (an old church pew) in our kitchen is a perfect place to set those baskets after my parents have gone home for the night after eating supper with us and after the boys are in bed.  The baskets aren't in anyone's way; and it's as simple as pie to carry them upstairs in the morning, usually while Shav is in his highchair eating breakfast.

Having a new overnight resting place for my laundry baskets doesn't solve all the clutter problems in my bedroom, but it is one step towards having a more organized, restful room; and for that, I am grateful.  Now, if only I could find some time to tackle my closet...  :)

Missing Her {And a Winner!}

First, the winner of the $20 gift certificate to Christianbook.com!

To determine the winner, I went the decidedly low-tech route of scribbling the name of each person who commented on the first post of this blog and the last post of Life on Sylvan Drive on a piece of notebook paper, then cutting out the names and putting them into a bowl.  Then I went upstairs to see who was still awake, and David was the first to respond as I walked into the big boys' darkened room.  He got the privilege of getting out of bed, coming downstairs, and reaching into the bowl...

...to draw out the name of the winner...

...who happens to be Sara @ Embracing Destiny!

Congrats, Sara!  And many heartfelt thanks to those of you who read my spilled words; I'm simultaneously honored and humbled by your friendship!

********

All it took was finding a letter from my Aunt Joyce in a stack of papers I somehow found time to sort through this afternoon.  And all it took in that letter was one sentence--the last one--to make me miss my grandma fiercely.

This is my Aunt Joyce (and this is a picture of a picture so the quality is low, but it still captures her and a corner of my grandparents' home):

And this is my grandma, with Jeff and me in 1996 (again, a low-quality picture of a picture, but nevertheless treasured by me):

I could write long posts about both of these dear ladies, but tonight I simply want to record how I was feeling today as I unfolded and read Aunt Joyce's letter.  She had sent it in a Christmas card a few years ago; and in her perpetually neat handwriting, she wrote about how she enjoyed reading my blog every so often and how she liked the pictures.  She wrote, "I'm glad you pause to enjoy the things the boys do and say!"  And then she continued--and this is what got me:

As Mother said - the best times are when the kids are home.

I didn't know Grandma said that!  But now that I'm growing up, I can feel her heart behind these words and sense the truth in them.  And suddenly, this afternoon, with my aunt's letter in my hand, I was missing Grandma like crazy, wishing for another chance to make that familiar drive to southern Pennsylvania, to spot the big farmhouse and pull in her driveway, to walk in her door and smell something delicious cooking, to hug her small frame in a warm but gentle embrace, to hear her voice and her laughter, to see the twinkle in her eyes, to walk around the farm and explore the cherished places there.  Just to be with her...

I loved all four of my grandparents and had good relationships with each of them, but this Grandma, being my last surviving grandparent, was special to me.  She's been gone for 12 years, so it's not as if grief for her is a new thing; but for some reason, today it welled up and left me yearning--for her and for her farm.  After her death, it was sold; and I understood why it had to be; but I wished that someone in the family could have kept it.  If there's any geographical place on earth that makes me incredibly nostalgic, it's that farm.

I hope, when I get to heaven, there's a little corner of it that looks exactly like the farm.  And I hope, when I get to the gate, she's right there waiting for me and we'll never have to say goodbye.

When she died, one of my most mournful thoughts was, "But she never got to see and hold my babies!"  I hope, someday in heaven, that she'll finally get to meet all of my children, and the circle will be unbroken.  

But for tonight, I'm still here on earth, missing her.  In honor of her, before I slip into my cozy bed, I'm going to go check on my boys again as they sleep and give them an extra kiss...because, even though we had a couple of rough "piranha hours" this evening, it's still true that...

"...the best times are when the kids are home."  Thank you, Grandma, for reminding me.

With a Snap of My Fingers

If I could snap my fingers and instantly change something about my sons, I would choose this:  the way David and Tobin, my current Sandpaper Boys, relate to each other.  Watching them compete about E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G brings back vivid memories of the way Josiah and David acted towards each other a few years ago, back when I dreaded, for example, the bedtime routine because of how they would argue about who got the tube of toothpaste first and who got to hold the book of bedtime devotionals and who got to pray first and who got to turn off the light and everything else they could possibly compete about.  I don't know how many times I would ask them, "What's the most important thing?" and listen for their grudging answer, "Love your brother."  I thought they would never learn to put that lesson into practice because, after all, it's very easy to say the right answer with your lips but very difficult to deny yourself long enough to actually do it!  But watching David and Tobin battle it out these days does one positive thing for me:  it makes me realize how far Josiah and David have come.  ;-)  Being reminded of that does give me hope for the future.  Though it seems incomprehensible some days, I do believe that someday, Tobin will refrain from pushing all David's buttons (an activity in which he shows striking ability!) and David will learn how to respond maturely and let little things roll off his back.  But, oh, if my finger-snaps were powerful enough to change it today, I would!

If I could snap my fingers and instantly change something about myself, I would increase my amount of patience a thousandfold and would never let another harsh word leave my lips.

If I could snap my fingers and instantly change something about my house, I would make my bedroom transform itself into a perfectly-organized space.  For months, that room has gotten the short end of the stick when it comes to time spent cleaning and organizing; and it's become much more of a dumping ground than I would like. I love my room!  The dark blue wall color is wonderfully appealing to me, the generous size of the room is fantastic, the special furnishings and decorations make it very attractive in my eyes.  But with a disorganized closet, piles of things to take to the thrift store, a laundry basket or two with clean clothes to be folded, too many books on a bookshelf, etc., it's not the peaceful, welcoming, relaxing and refreshing space that it could be.

If I could snap my fingers and instantly change something about our family rhythms, it would be this:  I would find a way to incorporate regular reading aloud as a family after supper.  Throughout the day, I do lots of reading aloud to the boys, so it's not as if I think they're neglected in that way.  But there's something so very cozy and special about reading longer books aloud together.  Through the past few years, we've had some spurts of doing well with that--for example, I remember Jeff reading some of The Chronicles of Narnia to Josiah and David--but it's certainly not a consistent habit.  I wish I could find a way to change that.

But no matter how much I snap my fingers, nothing seems to happen!

Two days ago, I read this quote at the beginning of a post by Courtney at Storing Up Treasures:

Gradual growth in grace, growth in knowledge, growth in faith, growth in love, growth in holiness, growth in humility, growth in spiritual-mindedness - all this I see clearly taught and urged in Scripture, and clearly exemplified in the lives of many of God's saints.  But sudden, instantaneous leaps from conversion to...consecration I fail to see in the Bible.

~ J. C. Ryle

And I thought, "Really?"

I know from personal experience that, yes, growth in all these areas of being Christ-like is more accurately described as "slow" rather than "sudden" for me.  But then I think about the Apostle Paul and how fast and startling and radical his conversion was, and I realize that sometimes there are sudden changes.  On the other hand, I remember Jacob and his many years of living deceitfully before he, snail-like, showed signs of change and became a man of integrity in his old age.

So which is it?

Surely some of both.

I believe there can be points in a person's life when they make a complete u-turn and drastically change their behavior and character.  It would be terribly disheartening to stop believing in such a possibility.

But at the same time, I'm enough of a realist to know that usually, for most of us (and definitely for my Sandpaper Boys), in the majority of areas in which we need change, that transformation takes place little by little, bit by bit, day by day, moment by moment, inch by inch.  Try as I may, no amount of finger-snapping alters that!

Recipe Box - Mother's Potato Soup

Nobody makes potato soup like my mom.

I don't know how she does it!  It's not like she uses any exotic ingredients or fancy techniques; but for some reason, I like her potato soup better than any other I've ever tasted.  Maybe the secret is in the love that oozes out of her time-worn hands into the soup as she chops potatoes and adds salt and tastes it to make sure it's just right.  Yes, I bet that's it.  It's the love.

I wanted to learn how to cook it so that, when I'm craving it, I'll be able to make it myself and I won't have to call her up and say, "Could you please make some potato soup for our supper?"  When I asked her for the recipe, this is what she told me:

Clean some potatoes, leaving the skin on.  (When I asked her how many potatoes to use, she said practically, "It depends on how big your pan is!")  Dice them into bite-size pieces.  Put them in a pan with water just barely covering them.  Chop an onion, if you have one; or add dried onion, if you prefer.  Add 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of salt and as much black pepper as you like.   Cook the potatoes until fork-tender, about 20 minutes or so.  Add milk until you get as much soup as you want.  You can also toss in some parsley, if you like it (we do!)--fresh or dried, either will do.  Then add a nice chunk of butter and let that melt.  (I'm not sure how much "a nice chunk" is, but use your best judgment, and I'm sure it will be fine!)  Next comes the most important step:  taste it to see if it has enough salt in it.

"That's it?" I ask.

"That's it!" she replies with a big smile on her face.

I'm doubtful that my attempts will ever turn out quite like hers, but I'll give it a whirl.  After all, cold winter evenings need a pot of soup to warm them; and this simple but delicious soup will do the trick nicely.  And if all else fails, I'll just call her up and ask sweetly, "Could you please make some potato soup for our supper?"  :)

Why'dja Up and Change Yer Blog Anyways?

Good question!

Here's how it all happened...

First, a number of months ago, I realized that I was getting close to the end of my free storage space from Blogger on my old blog, Life on Sylvan Drive.  I can't imagine why; after all, I'm such a concise writer, and I so infrequently post pictures!  ;-)  My original thought was to try to make it to my five-year blogiversary on that blog before completely running out of free space, and at that point I could simply start another blog and gain a brand new batch of free storage space.  But it wasn't too long until I realized that there was no way in the world I could do that.  Next, I guessed that I could at least make it to my four-year blogiversary (because, of course, if I was going to make a change, I needed to do that after completing a full year; I couldn't "up and change" in the middle of one; it just wouldn't be right!).  :)  Eventually, I realized that I wasn't even going to make it that far, so I caved and spent the whopping $5 bucks to buy more storage space.  When it comes to my blog, I'm a big spender.  ;-)

All of that, however, had gotten my mental wheels turning with thoughts of a new blog:  what would I name it?  what would it look like?  which aspects of my former blog would I want to keep and which would I want to change?  After many hours spent pondering these oh-so-important questions (usually while folding laundry or changing diapers or chopping onions for soup), I came to see that I viewed my first blog with such fondness that I didn't want to mess around with it too much.  I liked the general layout, with the info and photos in the sidebar, the header picture and background I changed every month, the main body of text being on the left, etc.  It was pleasant in my eyes, and I didn't want to change it.  I did, however, want to try a new format for blogging:  specifically, with the body of the text being much wider so I could make my pictures bigger, and the addition of tabs at the top for various categories.

Could I have made these changes to Life on Sylvan Drive?  Sure!  Would I have been a little sad to mix it up on that blog?  I feel sheepish for saying it, but yes.  Silly, sentimental me...

So, these are the factors--some practical, some nostalgic--which contributed to the start of this new blog.  But I guess what it really comes down to is this:

I'm a woman!  And hey, what woman doesn't like to rearrange things from time to time?  Some women change their hair color, some rearrange their furniture, some buy new dishes.  But me?

I change my blog.  ;-)

Despite the new web address and the new format, the content of this blog will, I expect, remain very similar to my former one.  After all, my life hasn't changed that much!  I still homeschool...

...and will sometimes write about it...

...as soon as I can unbury myself from this towering pile of books right over here.  ;-)

I still prepare food for my family...

...and will occasionally post recipes.

I still stroll through my yard, camera in hand...

...and will probably take and share random shots of beauty that catch my eye.

Most importantly, I'm still their mom and will certainly write about Josiah, my thoughtful eight-year-old...

...and five-year-old David, who sometimes gets distracted when he's supposed to be eating lunch because he just has to line up all his lima beans on his spoon handle and see if he can make them all balance...

...and Tobin, who turned three last week but told my husband Jeff at the supper table last evening that it's still his birthday...

...and my littlest sweetheart, Shav, who is one day shy of the 18-month mark.

So even though I have a new blog home, I still have the same dear ones in my real home; and with these boys (and their daddy) around, I'm never at a loss for blogging material!  ;-)