Heidi’s Unedited Life

I wanted to do Ali’s week in the life project this week, but it just isn’t going to happen. Instead, I’ll do random again.

We’re up to our eyeballs in a huge, messy project. I’d post Before pictures, but we are so very far away from After pictures, and I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that no one needs to see the disaster. (Right now, the project is at the much larger disaster stage. Where things get worse before they get better.) Instead, I'll share a picture of a visitor in our driveway (taken out the dining nook window). We often have deer (even up to 8 or more) in our yard at dusk or night, but rarely in the middle of the day.

My brother-in-law, Casey, turned 40, and we travelled back in time to 1971 for a really great party. I was doing well to just show up, but my sister and her husband are over-achievers.

We’ve entered a new baby stage. The one where nothing is safe. She bum-scoots all over the place (it looks hilarious!) and is pulling up to standing on *everything.* And with this stage has appeared a new Lola. A very, very wiggly, determined little girl.

(While I'm being real, do you notice the background of the picture above? The Happy Birthday banner still up from Luke's birthday in May. I thought I'd keep it up for July 4th (America's birthday, don't ya know), and I'd hate to take it down right before Leif's birthday (in August). Maybe I'll take it down in September. Or wait until Christmas decorations go up... And then there's the picnic basket STILL waiting for that photo shoot I meant to do with the kids a month ago.)

Lola's new height means she has even more things to get into. A mobile, determined little girl in a little house full of boys' toys. Legos. Nerf gun bullets. Permanent markers. All sorts of fun stuff.

But she's so adorable. Still has hardly any hair, but I think it is growing a tiny bit in the back.

She LOVES to play with books. Her favorites are the cookbooks on the bookcase heading into the kitchen.

Speaking of reading, as difficult as I find it to parent three young, crazy boys, I love to watch their love of reading. They read constantly. And in all sorts of places. I think Luke topped the list of strange places to read, though. Warm clothes made a nice little nest on a cool, Oregon summer morning...

Speaking of Luke, when he was younger he didn't talk much and he didn't really enjoy being read to. His love of books and reading came as a big surprise to me. He still surprises me often with his interest in books and ideas... just when I least expect it from him. The other day I was reading Tom Sawyer (aka, Luke). I didn't think Luke was listening, until he excitedly said, "Sssssss! The s's!" He was so earnestly pointing out the alliteration in the sentences I had just read. "It was the sleepiest of sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five-and-twenty studying scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees." Doesn't it just make you sleepy? Thank you, THANK YOU, Michael Clay Thompson for teaching my boys about the beautiful sounds of language.

And that’s all for now, folks.

Tim

I think I’ll let his photos speak for themselves…

Yes. Yep. Uh, huh.

And Oh. My. Word. This is spot on. I don’t even know where to begin quoting, so go read it. If you are homeschooling or especially if you are considering or planning on homeschooling, this is a must read. If you are curious to know what it is like to homeschool (the good, bad, and ugly), this is a great place to start.

The Bad News About Homeschooling: What your friends in the denim jumpers don’t want you to know.

Here is a taste:

And here’s more bad news:  YOU will still be YOU.  You will not wake up on the Monday after you make the decision to homeschool and find you’ve turned into Socrates, Anne Sullivan, Charlotte Mason, Lisa Whelchel or Sally Clarkson overnight.  (Bummer, I know!)  It will just be little old you, same as the day before, with all the same flaws, only now they’ll be thrown into horrifyingly sharp relief by the plight of being sandpapered 24 hours a day by the little blessings (students?) the Lord has graced you with.  Sometimes it’s called sanctification.  Sometimes it’s called painful.  Sometimes it’s called homeschooling.

Uh, yeah.

Hannah

It was a cousin party. Really. First cousins. First cousins once removed. Second cousins. Nine of us for a senior photo session party. But only two seniors: Hannah (my second cousin) and her cousin, Tim (also my second cousin). Hannah’s sister, Melissa was the brave subject of my first senior photo shoot two years ago. Here are my favorite photos of Hannah. I’ll post Tim’s tomorrow.

A Little Bit of Everything

:: There is something magical about a sleeping baby (especially now, as she’s teething again and I’m a bit rummy). She rarely falls asleep other than in her crib. Falling asleep in her jumper is absolutely unprecedented. Oh, and I LOVE her shoulder dimples.

:: A certain four year old (who has been told repeatedly not to get into the freezer) left the freezer door open. So much food in the garbage. So much food cooked up in one night. Daddy made him watch everything being thrown out and write down dollar amounts on a tablet, which he then had to add up on a calculator.

:: That same certain four year old cut the front of his hair. He said there was gum in it. Sigh. Just when Luke’s poison oak rash was gone. Am I ever going to do a photo shoot with those kids?!

:: Speaking of photo shoots, I have a bunch of photos to share this week. Senior photos and an awesome family photo shoot. Guess who came to visit!! Simple Mom!

:: Blog friend, Hannah, sent me this quote from Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park. She thought I’d enjoy it, and enjoy it I certainly did.

"The living in incessant noise was, to a frame and temper delicate and nervous like Fanny's, an evil which no superadded elegance or harmony could have entirely atoned for. It was the greatest misery of all. At Mansfield, no sounds of contention, no raised voice, no abrupt bursts, no tread of violence, was ever heard; all proceeded in a regular course of cheerful orderliness; everybody had their due importance; everybody's feelings were consulted. If tenderness could be ever supposed wanting, good sense and good breeding supplied its place; and as to the little irritations sometimes introduced by aunt Norris, they were short, they were trifling, they were as a drop of water to the ocean, compared with the ceaseless tumult of her present abode. Here everybody was noisy, every voice was loud (excepting, perhaps, her mother's, which resembled the soft monotony of Lady Bertram's, only worn into fretfulness). Whatever was wanted was hallooed for, and the servants hallooed out their excuses from the kitchen. The doors were in constant banging, the stairs were never at rest, nothing was done without a clatter, nobody sat still, and nobody could command attention when they spoke."

I think I am the one who is worn into fretfulness…

:: Oh, how I love Facebook. My friends share the most interesting thoughts and articles. Today, it was The Educational Value of Creative Disobedience @ Scientific American:

‎"Just by moving the students from passive observer to active participant, you are lighting a fire in the brain—making more connections across association areas, increasing plasticity, and enhancing learning. Not only that, students that are more actively engaged are more intrinsically motivated to learn—no bribes or artificial rewards needed, just pure enjoyment of learning ."

I have many thoughts on this article that are difficult for me to express coherently. I realize that there is a strong anti-rote-memorization which is a foundational skill in our homeschool, but I feel that is one of the strongest benefits of homeschool. We are able to do both memorization and have time for creative processes. My kids are given tools AND freedom, which I feel leads to less frustration. We are emphasizing the joy of learning, the personal fulfillment of education, the ownership of one’s learning process. Classical education leads to this, especially as Socratic dialogue develops in the years of logic and rhetoric, modeling how to ask questions rather than taking notes in a lecture format.

My friend, Jami, shared this quote from Charlotte Mason:

"The question is not, -- how much does the youth know? when he has finished his education -- but how much does he care? and about how many orders of things does he care? In fact, how large is the room in which he finds his feet set? and, therefore, how full is the life he has before him?"

:: My favorite new (to me) education blog is The Circe Institute: Cultivating Wisdom and Virtue.

I thought Why the Sciences Need the Arts by Andrew Kern very thought provoking.

What too many administrators are missing is that all learning is an art, even when you are learning the sciences. Therefore, teachers are artists, not scientists, when they teach. But we tend to hire scientifically inclined people to teach the sciences.  But teaching is an art.

And then:

Practically, where I’m going with this is that if we want more scientists, we should stop trying to teach so much science in the lower grades and instead teach students the arts of learning. I mean the seven liberal arts (not the meaningless quasi-liberal arts of the conventional misnamed liberal arts college). Teach students the arts of inquiry and those so inclined will become great scientists.

So what to do to train young scientists:

1. Teach them the seven liberal arts

2. Let them inquire and explore the natural realm (garden, woods, farm, zoos, etc. etc.)

3. Teach them stories about great scientists and their discoveries

4. Teach them some categorized knowledge about things they are exploring.

Once they’ve done that for a few years, they’ll be able to do real science real well.

:: And now I’m putting my nose to the grindstone. Lots of pictures to edit today! Have a terrific weekend!

The Wedding ~ Visual Feast Edition

Mom and Daughters:

How Heidi Attends a Wedding

She hears her cousin’s daughter is getting married and thinks, How nice. It’s been a long while since we’ve had a wedding in the family. Writes date in calendar: a long way off.

Gets invitation to wedding. Thinks, I don’t have to think about this. It’s still a long way off. Puts invitation in towering stack of get-around-to-someday-paperwork. Completely avoids imagining taking three little boys and a baby to a large social gathering of an official sort.

Comes down with a rare case of get-something-done-itis and goes online to RSVP. Starts breathing a little erratically when she has to choose a meal for each family member including the baby. Notices the words ‘formal or semi-formal attire requested’ and has a mini panic attack. Frantically Googles “appropriate wedding attire.” Reads the description of semi-formal and formal attire. Stops breathing.

Has a million other items on the must-do-today list, but has to come up with wedding attire right. now. Figures she ought to start from the ground up. Stares dejectedly at the shoe pile: play flip-flops, “church” flip-flops, and rubber boots. Remembers that there is a bin of hand-me-down shoes under Luke’s bed. Against all odds, there are black ‘dress’ shoes in all 3 of the boys’ sizes. She says a little prayer of blessing on her sister who didn’t let Drake go to church in flip-flops. Lines up the black shoes on the floor where they can gather dust and nerf gun bullets for the next four weeks and smiles a happy little smile.

Remembers the boys will need to wear something besides shoes and immediately loads the children in the truck to head to Kohl’s. Hasn’t been there in a very long time. Finds a dress outfit for the 4 year old, black dress pants for the older boys, and black suit pants for Russ—all on sale or clearance. Hopes her husband won’t mind. Goes home and finds white oxford shirts and ties to finish off the older boys’ attire. Not semi-formal, but certainly a step up from ‘the good jeans.’ Coaxes youngest son to try on snazzy new outfit. He flops around, sulks, and says he won’t wear it. She’s sure he’ll change his mind when the big day arrives.

Looks through Lola’s dresses and wonders if the no-white rule applies to babies and whether anyone would notice if the baby isn’t wearing any shoes at all…

Russ lets her out of the house without children, so she goes dress shopping when she is supposed to be getting groceries. It is much more difficult than she imagined. Buys four dresses at two different stores. While she is shopping, she picks up dress socks for the boys and a real tie for Levi (as opposed to the clip-on variety to which he has been previously subjected on rare occasion). Goes home and tries on dresses for husband. He eliminates one, she eliminates another. It’s down to two dresses.

Decides on the more casual of the two dresses. Goes to sister’s house to beg, borrow, or steal some bling so she looks a little fancier. Sister eyes the other (more formal) dress, asks if she can try it on, looks fabulous, and decides to wear it. Sighs. Wonders if the bling will be enough to make her look less like a tired mom.

Goes to Kohl’s again. With all four children. Returns two dresses. Picks up dress socks and shoes for hubby.

Talks to hubby about schedule. He can’t get off in time to drive the 45 minutes home, get dressed, and leave with the family. He’ll get dressed at work and meet her there. For the reception. She irons his clothes and gets everything ready for him to take to work at the crack of dawn the next day. She’s on her own.

The morning arrives. She takes off the blue toe nail polish and adds hot pink.

Thinks she has all day to get ready for the wedding. Checks email and sees that 10 books are overdue at the library and accruing fines. Frantically goes through toppling stacks of library books. Asks boys to quickly read the ones they missed. Chooses to feel good about supporting her local library.

Has a telephone conference with parents. Realizes she has to leave her house more than two hours before the wedding starts in order to get there in time. The boys need to start getting dressed at least a half hour before that in order to get out of the house in time. That means 2pm. Drat. Wonders how to feed them and keep them clean for hours once they are dressed.

Heads to the library drop slot. Stops to get a 32oz Dr. Pepper. Swears to go to confession later. And do another Whole30.

Puts baby down for a nap. Prays. A lot. Dusts off the boys shoes with a wet rag. Removes nerf gun bullets from inside. Gets all the clothes together for ironing. Sees a, um, foreshadow pass over her youngest son’s face. Irons and irons and irons. Rustles up lunch for the boys. They don’t want to eat it.

Packs Lola’s diaper bag with bib and baby food. Panic sets in. Wonders what on earth she was thinking when she RSVP’d.

Other unmentionable stuff. You’ve got to be kidding. Desperately searches for chocolate. Finds it. Eats it.

Baby’s up.

Remembers she needs a purse. Crawls in hot attic to find sister’s bin of purses. Voila! A little gray one with bling.

Takes one look at the boys. Pink sidewalk chalk. Really?! Throws them in the bathtub. Again.

Feeds baby. Fixes hair and make-up (hers, not the baby’s).

Starts the mad dash to get 5 people dressed at once. Buttons, tuck-ins, belts, ties (realizes Daddy isn’t around to tie Levi’s real tie), shoe laces, diaper and dress, dress and jewelry. Youngest son has a meltdown. Want an undershirt. Pants are too loose. Shoes are too tight. Tough cookies, son. Slips on the heels, grabs a scarf, and out the door.

Drives down the road to parents’ house. Poppy ties Levi’s tie. Bambi snaps some pictures of the momentous occasion. Sister (in fancy dress) hops in truck.

The drive (following Dad, Mom, and Ben) begins. A very relaxing, gorgeous 1.5 hour ride through the countryside. Green grass. Orchards. Vineyards. Wheat fields. Rolling Hills. Blue Sky. Scattered cotton-ball clouds. Adult conversation. Little boys singing VBS songs with hand motions. Lola angel.

Arrives on time at the vineyard atop a hill. Spectacular view. Spectacular setting. Uh. Ma. Zing. Weather. Uncle Ben and Aunt Shan help commandeer boys. Everyone behaves through a lovely ceremony. Lola falls asleep. Russ arrives. Family galore. Amazing food. A kid table and evening games with adult supervision.

At the end of the evening: sweaty, dirt-smudged, grass-stained, bare-foot, candy-filled boys load back into the truck. A jammied Lola snuggles into her car seat. Quiet sister talk in the darkness. Daddy and Uncle Ben carry sleeping boys to bed. She feeds Lola and sets her in crib. Falls into bed….

(P.S. I have an incredible close extended family on my Dad’s side (his 6 siblings on down). I wouldn’t have missed this wedding for anything. I’m off to family reunion today and will later share more pictures of both occasions.)

Tidbits

Isn’t that a funny word? Tidbits.

I’m still on my quest for imperfect real-life randomness…

I don’t know how a four-year-old manages to play Monopoly by himself, but Leif seemed to be doing fine. Lola thought he needed another player, however.

I wish I could have captured Leif on video camera this morning. He enthusiastically giggled through a math lesson (his idea). I hope he maintains that attitude for the next 13 years.

Levi: (About VBS) My teacher is teaching everyone how to swagger, so I’m excelling at that already. (I don’t even want to know.)

Luke: (While snuggling up on my lap after a blood-gushing head injury. (He’s fine.)) Could you catch one of my tears and show it to me? (How can such a dare-devil be such a tender-hearted, sweet snuggler?)

Luke: My pencil has a loose tooth.

Luke: (I find him whittling a stick with a box knife. I tell him he will slip and stab himself.) I already slipped and stabbed myself like five times. (So what’s the big deal, mom?)

I’m attending a formal wedding on Friday with four children. You might want to pray for me. I had to go buy a dress. Is it sad that I didn’t own one? And my boys have “church'” flip-flops. Lola is the only one who owned appropriate clothing… but she is going barefoot because I didn’t want to buy her fancy shoes. Does it surprise you that we are so un-fancy?

I had a dual senior photo session the other night. Two cousins who also happen to be my second cousins. I think I’ll have some interesting photos to share when I get a chance to start editing.

Lola isn’t crawling yet (at just 9 months), but she is the funniest little bottom-scooter. My boys did some army-crawling, but this bottom-scooting is new here. She can move quickly and get into anything she sets her sights on.

She also loves to play peek-a-boo. I caught some (blurry) snap-shots of the action this afternoon. She found a shirt of Levi’s and was putting it up over her head. She’d bring it down really quickly, we’d all say peek-a-boo, and she’d squeal and giggle. We are easily entertained around here. All of us think Lola is the cat’s meow. What did we do without her?!

 

We are finally getting some summer weather around here. Today it is a bit warm for my tastes, but it is amazing how a little sunshine improves one’s outlook!

Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit.  A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world. 

~Ada Louise Huxtable

Independence Day Weekend Tradition

We were back up at Lake Oswego for our friend's annual 4th of July BBQ (on the 3rd). The weather was PERFECT, and the boys enjoyed a little swimming after eating BBQ ribs. (I think Luke out-ate us all. That boy loves his meat.)

We topped off the wonderful afternoon with a boat ride around the lake. There is something about boat rides that makes me deliriously happy. Last year, I braved the ride while 6 months pregnant. This year, Lola got her first boat ride. She was absolutely calm and still the whole time. The lake was extremely rough, so the ride was adventurous. The boys had huge grins on their faces. We tried not to drop the point-and-shoot while bumping all over the place. (And we’ll make do with blurry pictures…)

  

Lola thought it was so exciting, she fell asleep.

Since I’m not likely to share another Independence Day post, I’ll close with a couple favorite quotes. Familiar, but worth repeating.

The first by John Adams:

The science of government is my duty to study, more than all other sciences; the art of legislation and administration and negotiation ought to take [the] place of, indeed to exclude, in a manner, all other arts. I must study politics and war, that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history and naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain.

The second by Alexis de Tocqueville:

I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her commodious harbors and her ample rivers, and it was not there; in her fertile fields and boundless prairies, and it was not there; in her rich mines and her vast world commerce, and it was not there. Not until I went to the churches of America and heard her pulpits aflame with righteousness did I understand the secret of her genius and power. America is great because she is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.

One other little thing. Tonight I am remembering twenty years ago, sitting on the capitol lawn in Washington D.C., listening to the concert and watching the fireworks with my family. It was an amazing experience not to be forgotten. Watching the annual concert on television still gives me goosebumps, and Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture still brings tears to my eyes.