Stop and smell the roses

While my DH was enduring the difficult, intense year of pilot training, we lived in base housing on Columbus AFB, in Mississippi.  It was our first experience living on a military base.  The housing was old, dating back to what was rumored the 1950's.  However the 3 bedroom duplex was more space than our previous 2 bedroom apartment we had in Las Vegas.  It was sturdy, built in the days when things were made to last, had a small back yard and surprisingly large front yard, covered carport, and roses planted by the front windows.  The streets were named after state capitols, (we lived on Albany) and because the housing had been there awhile, the trees were large and full, and gave the neighborhood a safe, friendly, suburban feel.

There seemed to be an unspoken connection we all felt with our neighbors.  Everyone wanted to know each other, be friends, have barbecues, go on walks, take kids to the park, and be supportive when the pressures of being military families were keenly felt.  We were often seen chatting in front yards, bouncing babies on our hips, and pausing every 4 minutes or so as little trainer planes flew overhead, temporarily drowning out conversation.  We made some of our very best friends during our stay in Columbus, and keep in close contact with most of them.

The pilot training part was horrible.  In an effort to weed out less capable or dedicated potential pilots, the Air Force is not kind to it's students there.  It seemed their goal to make grown men cry, and hang their hopes and dreams of flight on a tangible thread, ready to break at any second.  Perhaps that's why everyone was so friendly.  It's a stressful time endured by all, which created a natural bond everyone shared.  Despite that deeply rooted stress and the trials that came with it, my memories of Columbus are fond ones.

I'd like to go back to the roses that were planted in front of our half of the little duplex we stayed in.  Those outside of the military may or may not know know this, but if a serviceman chooses to live off base, he receives a housing allowance.  If he lives on base, he does not get that allowance, but his housing there is free.  Because the housing is free, you'd expect most families wouldn't put forth much effort in upkeep.  While that tends to be true with welfare provided government housing, from my small bit of experience I saw it wasn't the case with the tenants of base military housing.  Other than mowing the lawn regularly, and keeping the indoors clean and undamaged, there were no rules or requirements to keep.  However families often put a surprising amount of effort into those temporary homes.  They painted walls, planted grass, added flowerbeds, or in our case, roses.  I was very touched when I thought of the people who lived in our home before us, and planted those three rose bushes.  They obviously planted them knowing they wouldn't see them for very long.  I saw it as a selfless act of kindness towards me, someone they'd never meet or know.  He or she may not have planted them specifically for me, but they didn't have to plant them at all, and I benefited from their efforts.  The bushes were obviously well tended.  During our first Easter in Columbus, there were big blossoms, a perfect blend of pink and yellow.  A sweet coincidence - they just happened to be colored the same as the roses I carried in my bridal bouquet.  I will always be grateful to that nameless stranger, who shared with us her roses.

Here's a picture we took on Anny's first Easter Sunday, in front of one of the pretty bushes.  By the time we left Columbus, that bush had grown tall enough to see it from the windows inside, and the blossoms were the size of salad plates!

Inspired by those first rose bushes in Columbus, I've decided to set a tradition.  Even though we're living off base for this assignment, and as our family grows that will most likely be the most convenient choice, in each new home we have, with each new military move, I too will plant roses.  If possible I will plant them in the front yard, by the front windows.  Realistically I know we may not always live in locations where roses thrive.  But where I can, I want to pass on the same kind gesture that was shown me.  I also like the romantic thought that we will leave a trail of roses behind us as we move every 3-5 years.

I planted a little red bush in front of my girls' bedroom window last year, and to my delight, it flourished.  I was worried our sandy soil would lack the necessary nutrients for a bush to grow, but it's doubled in height and size!  Due to last years success, I planted 3 more bushes in the front yard, and 2 in the back.  Here are some pictures of our new little friends.  May they bring happiness to all who live here!

  This one was described as pale pink, but I think it's more of a lavender, very pretty.  

 Look at how beautiful this blossom is!!  It makes me happy every time I go outside and see it!  

I was only going to get two more bushes for the front yard, but this ambitious little pink one with the one tall branch reaching for the stars, was calling my name.  I couldn't leave her there!  

             This is the first bloom to show from the red bush I planted last year.  Sweet and promising!   

Vapor Rub Tissues

Last week I was awesome.  I said goodbye to my DH at the airport, gave myself the rest of the day for some therapeutic wallowing, and woke up Tuesday feeling strong and ready to roll.  I stuck to my R.I.C.E diet like a champion.  That's my list of coping mechanisms.  Anyone who's going through something needs a list.  I attended a seminar about how to survive military deployments a couple years ago, given by an author who wrote an encouraging book on the subject.  She suggested making a physical list of things that help you feel better, and to post that list somewhere obvious, like the bathroom mirror.  If you begin to notice you haven't been doing anything on that list for awhile, that's a sign you're slipping, and might need some help.  This time around, my list is my RICE diet.

Reading

Indexing

Crocheting 

Exercise

Those are a few things I enjoy, keep me busy, and make me feel better.  I fully embraced all of them last week.  I started a new book, and stayed up late a few nights getting lost in it's pages.  I began a list of little crocheting projects, and looked up some new patterns to try.  I exercised 4 times last week, which took some effort, but was worth it.  I became an official "indexer".  Indexing is the process of reviewing scanned genealogical records such as birth certificates, draft papers, baptismal records, etc. and entering the basic information from them into a system that makes the information searchable and available for anyone trying to find their ancestors.  It's fun and addicting, and you can learn more about it here.  

I also found time to do all the laundry, which is especially hard the first week of a deployment, because I have to wash and fold all my husbands things he wore the previous week, knowing he wont wear them for awhile.  It's a bit of a downer, but I did it.  I kept up with the dishes, vacuumed the entire house, cleaned the curtains in my bedroom, took a field trip to a history museum, attended a church activity, and made a new friend.  A week to be proud of!!

My running start came to a halt this morning though, when I woke up with a stuffy head, and constant runny nose.  Isn't it interesting how those come together?  Interesting in a frustrating way, that is.  You'd think with the leaky faucet nose, that the pressure in my sinuses would be relieved.  Sadly no.  Taking a sick day means no exercise.  However it doesn't mean I get a break from making meals, laundry, housework, or taking care of the kids.  They have to get done, and there's no one else to do it.

They say military wives are tough, so I decided to give tough a try.  I took some Sudafed and Tylenol, and got to work.  I had to mail a package to my DH- there were some things he left at home it turns out he needs.  On the way to the post office, we stopped by the grocery store.  The girls were being loud and obnoxious, but as long as they didn't get in the way of other customers, I didn't have the energy to scold them.  I was the picture perfect example of that worn out looking mom in the grocery store, who gives homemakers a bad name.  I should have worn a shirt that said, "Deployed Dad, sick Mom, don't judge".

My attitude sank lower still we when got in line to check out.  In front of us was an airman, looking sharp in his blues (aka the more formal looking AF uniform of blue dress pants, lighter blue shirt, and shiny shoes) holding a bouquet of very pretty flowers.  My heart dropped to my stomach.  I'd forgotten about "Blues Monday".  All local active duty personnel have to wear their blues on Mondays.  When my DH is home, I love blues Mondays, because he looks dashing in his uniform.  I miss that when he's gone, and usually make a note not to visit grocery stores on Mondays, because it's painful to see all the soldiers picking up last minute things at the store for their families, knowing my husband's not one of them.  Watching the airman in front of me pay for his beautiful bouquet of light pink roses and lilies, I sighed inwardly and placed my vapor rub tissues on the counter.

I'm still awesome, and plan to pick up my RICE diet again as soon as I can kick this cold.  I'm down, but not out.  Not yet!  Maybe when I'm done with the tissues, I'll turn my tissue box into this:


The only thing that could make that more perfect, is my handsome man in his blues, hand delivering it.  Maybe in approximately two and a half months.

Soak in the Daddy Time!

After 8 wonderful uninterrupted months together, the time has come where Daddy has to deploy again.  I'm so grateful for the timing of his last homecoming, and for this long break with him home, that I feel guilty being sad this day has come.  I was talking with my mom the other day though, and she gave some insightful advice.  Not a rare thing for my mom, many of you have probably heard me repeat sound wisdom from her.  She said she's realized we really can't control what we feel.  We feel what we feel!

Emotional pain is like physical pain.  When or how it happens is not within our control. Imagine if an OB doctor told a mother in labor, that she shouldn't be feeling pain.  It's all in her head.  I think if such a doctor existed, he wouldn't live long! Of course her pain is real!  She can't decide whether she feels pain or not.  There are coping strategies for pain.  Lamaze classes, right?  However I think most mothers who have actually experienced childbirth will admit such classes are beautiful in theory . . . but when you're in the delivery room, and it's all so much worse than you ever imagined, you consider strangling the nurse who's reminding you to breathe in patterns!  You can't control what you feel, and it isn't easy to control how you react to feelings either.

Despite the thousands of books written on emotional health, and millions of dollars spent on therapy, I think when it comes to painful experiences we know are coming- most of us follow a universal 3 step approach:

1. Dread
2. Acceptance
3. Endurence


So while experiencing phase 1 during the last few days Daddy is home, we're trying our best to not be too distracted by the process, so we can enjoy what time we have left before steps 2 and 3.

Last Sunday I stayed home with Merrylee and Ben who were fighting colds, so it was just Anny and Daddy at church together.  Daddy said she was a very good girl.  I curled her hair, she looked very grown up and pretty.        

Daddy had an old ROTC buddy call up and say he was driving through our area, so he meet him for dinner in Pensacola, and took Merrylee with him.  Being the middle child, she doesn't get a lot of individual parent time.  She felt very special to be the only one accompanying him, and was excited to have Dad all to herself.  

Baby Ben will probably go through the most changes while Daddy is gone, so he's tried to spend a little extra time with him too.  Some might argue 8 months is a little early for ice cream.  Ben didn't complain though, and there's no way Daddy was going to miss sharing that first bite of Bryers Mint Chocolate Chip.

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So phase 1 hasn't been too horrible.  Wish us luck for 2 and 3.  I don't think I'll be in the mood to blog about them.

Another form of relief

Last post I tried to provide a little heartfelt encouragement, in the best way I knew how.  It concerned feeding the soul, and finding solace through Christ.  Now for a lighter yet often effective form of relief- humor.

I dare you to watch this video and not laugh, or at least smile!

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Special thanks to Anny, and the laughter we've had at her expense.  She giggles at this video now though, so I figured she wouldn't mind if I shared.  In her defense, she was a little tired from trick-or-treating (that's a lot of walking for a 5 year old) and she'd been going at that doughnut for about 5 minutes before she'd finally had enough.  I think it's safe to say she put the old adage "when at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again" to the test, and found it to be lacking in this case.

Where can I turn?

This week I've been thinking much about some people very close to me.  Some dear friends, who are going through some very sad or difficult things.  I know they are crying.  I know they are sad, and lonely.  I want to fix it.  I wish so much I could take their pain away.  But I cannot.  I do not have that power.  I know someone who can though.

I believe in Christ.  I can testify that he lives.  He knows us individually.  He feels our pain, and suffers with us.  Though we cannot see him, we can feel his love for us when we pray.  He can heal all wounds, and comfort all who stand in need of comfort.  He is the greatest relief there is, to any trial, or grief, or sadness.  He suffered all pain, and knows every heartache, because he experienced them all during his great atonement for us.  It is only through him that we will find real peace in anything.

I sent some things to my friends in need this week.  A package of things I hope are comforting, white flowers to help uplift and cheer somewhat.  However that just doesn't feel like enough.  It's like a doctor, giving condolences and sympathy to a sick patient, but no prescription or treatment.  I felt I had to pass on what I know of real treatment, real peace and comfort.  The very best comfort I feel I can give, is the message that Jesus Christ loves us.  He is not merely a good feeling, or a theory or nice idea.  He is a real, living, resurrected being, who gives true and lasting comfort and healing.  He will help.  He loves you.  Read his words.  Lose yourself in meaningful prayer.  You will feel that he is there, and you are not alone.    

As I was writing this, I could hear the words to the hymn Where Can I turn for Peace fill my mind.  You can listen to it here.  Below are the lyrics:

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When, with a wounded heart, anger, or malice
I draw myself apart searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows?
Where, when I languish?
Where, in my need to know?
Where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately.
Reaches my reaching.
In my Gethsemane, Savior, and friend.
Gentle, the peace He finds
For my beseeching.
Constant He is, and kind.

Love without end.  

This song is dear to me.  It could be because I grew up singing it, and that makes it comforting to me.  However I think it's the words that make it so sweet.  I remember one Sunday at church, in which I was particularly sad about something.  It was time for the congregation to sing the closing hymn.  Lost in my thoughts I flipped to the page and started to sing.  My mind was drawn to the lyrics, and the music seemed to fill my heart, and put words to what I was feeling.  I sang the words

Where can I turn for peace? Where, in my need to know? Where can I run? Who, who can understand?

Then I saw the song answer it's lyrics and my inner thoughts and questions, and found I couldn't sing, but only whisper the response, He, only One.    

To my sweet friends during this time, and to anyone else I know who might be concealing a secret pain or trial, please know I love you.  I will not pretend I understand or know what you're going through, but the Savior does, and I'm praying you will feel his everlasting love, that it will fill your heart and carry you through these times of need. Constant He is, and kind. Love without end.

May your days be bright

My DH has a sort of talent I covet.  He easily forgets bad memories.  Arugments we've had, unfortunate events from the past, he can't remember them.  They never happened.  He doesn't just choose not to bring them up- he somehow manages to erase them.  I've in a laughing mood, tried to recall with him disagreements from our past, and he thinks I made them up.  He cannot remember them.  Fortunate man!

I am usually not so fortunate, and can recall a little too perfectly how things I don't wish to remember, went down.  However when I look back on 2011, I'm overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude.  Even if I try, I cannot focus on a memory where I was heartbroken, downtrodden, or miserable.  I suppose there were some, no one is safe from hard times, but all that comes to mind is seeing my husband walk through the door, early from a deployment, the day before Benjamin was born.  I recall the girls hands and mouths stained red from strawberries we picked together, and can remember they were the sweetest, freshest berries I'd ever had.  I think of the happy, sleepy look on Merrylee's face as she awoke on her third birthday, and realized what day it was.  I can see Anny during family scripture study at our family reunion, staring at the 4th of July fireworks from the beachouse window, too distracted and excited to hear our devotional.  I remember my brothers, father, and a few good friends, standing in a circle, holding our baby boy, as my husband gave him a name and a blessing.  It was a year abundant in happiness, culminating in a Christmas Season with Daddy home and our family together.  I've been blessed to only remember the good things, and there were so many good things this year.  Those good things come from one source, and it's to Him, our Savior, Jesus Christ, that we are grateful, and who we celebrate.  Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.  May your 2012 be bright!

Special thanks to my talented sister, Katie, the pianst who provided the music for this slideshow.  Not included here are pictures from a visit to Virginia.  We had a wonderful time, but forgot our camera.

 

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I want to run through the halls of my highschool . . .

I've been watching ABC's new show Once Upon a Time.  For the most part I've enjoyed it.  I like the fairy tale element, and am a true lover of a good fantasy story.  In one thing with this show I've been extremely dissapointed though, and it's been stewing in my mind for weeks now. What I wish to write about today, concerns the Prince Charmings. 

The basis of the show is how the evil witch who haunts Snow White, has moved all fairy tale characters to our modern world, where she can doom them to misery and dominate them.  There are flashback scenes in the fairy tale world, intermixed with scenes showing how our beloved characters, cursed with no memory of who they used to be, are dealing with modern times.  

In the beautiful fairy tale world, the Prince Charmings don't vary much from how we've always known them.  They are dashing, chivalrous, honorable, selfless, and kind.  Protecting the innocent and those who cannot help themselves, they are heros who bravely fight dragons, monsters, wicked soldiers and witches.  Always great leaders, their knights trust them and promise unfailing loyalty.  They are ferocious in battle, yet demonstrate softer sides where they adore their beautiful princess brides, even enough to wait until their wedding nights for intimacy.  They are family men who want to have children, and would die to protect anyone they love.      

The actors who play the prince charming characters are the same men in the "real world" settings.  However just as their outfits change, so do their characters.  They are just as dashing, but not half as honorable.  Cinderella's man is a son from a rich family, who has gotten her pregnant at 19, abandoned her, and allowed his father to make illegal adoption plans for the unborn child, against Ella's will.  Our prince stands idly by, only to make a last minute appearance in the hospital after poor Ella went through labor alone.  He oh-so-sweetly sits by Ella's side, and promises he'll never leave her again.  He doesn't even offer a better-late-than-never marriage proposal, but rather a pathetic promise reminiscent of most trashy dads who sire illegitimate children with teenage girls.  That hospital scene is set to sweet music, and illustrated as beautiful, possibly worth a glistening tear.

Snow White's prince is a little better, but not by much.  His story hasn't concluded, but it doesn't look too promising.  So far he has woken from a coma, and in his new life in our world, he's a married man suffering from amnesia, and falling in love with Snow White.  Did I mention Snow White is not his wife?  He still feels some connection with Snow though, and convinces her he has plans to leave his wife to be with her. Awwww.  Every mother's wish, right?  For her daughter to marry a man to who's broken his current home to start up again.  How sweet.  I'm sure this time his promises are sincere.  In case you can't read between the lines, I'm laying on the sarcasm pretty thick.  Snow White's prince does suddenly "remember" his past, and decides not to leave his wife after all - but not before he's given great heartache to both his wife and Snow White, leaving one confused and the other devastated.

These type of men do exist.  I'm not arguing the true-to-reality fact there.  My problem is these are the type of men we are painting as modern day prince charmings.  How sad.  How pathetic.  While the readers of my blog are probably the choir I'm preaching to, I feel I must put my voice out there, and proclaim that prince charmings of the fairy tale world exist.  They are real!  There are honorable men, in every way as wonderful as the men we read about in story books.  There are good men, with good hearts, living clean lives, who wish to provide and protect, who love kids, and will devote themselves to you and your family forever! It is not a fantasy!!

"The hunt" is a lesser known secret though- one I wish to reveal here.  These glorious men are not waiting in singles bars, or at the club.  You're not likely to simply run into a prince on the street either.  Good men are found in good places, doing good things.  They're at church, or serving as the volunteer coach on the soccer field, or helping out at a charity function.  Get involved in those kinds of things, and you'll run into them.  Live worthy of these men by livng lives similar to theirs, and they'll fall in love with you, and stay in love. 

John Mayer sings a song I laugh at, called No Such Thing.  Fans of his, forgive me, I don't hate the guy, just this particular song.  I think it's silly.  In the chorus he says:

I want to run through the halls of my highschool
I want to scream at the top of my lungs!
I just found out there's no such thing as the real world
It's just something they try to lie about.   

I laugh at this, because obviously for him there's no such thing as the "real world".  He's a successful rockstar!  Whatever reality he lives in has nothing to do with the world the rest of us experience.  Anyway, the song comes to mind here.  I too want to run through the halls of my highschool, and scream at the top of my lungs.  I want to yell to all the young girls there the amazing news that Prince Charmings are real!  They are real and waiting for women who are living like them.  So be like them!!!  Impress them, and be irrisitable by living honorable, chaste, sweet lives like the princesses in the stories.  Be smart, be kind, be clean, be honest, be involved, be positive, be true.  Live beautifully, and find yourself frequently in the places these great men are found.  They will see you there, and they will seek you out.  They will love you, and cherrish you, and will make you happy.  Did I mention they'll marry you before they love you too much?     

I can't physically run through my highschool's halls, the security guards would kick me out.  Consider this post my scream though, and pass this on to any woman searching.  If you're the one searching but feel you aren't currently living the life of a princess worthy of the men I described, then change!  Become worthy, and live your life so you can recognize a good prince when you see him.  Then go to the right places to seek him out.  Don't give up on your search until you do.  A good prince will fight for you, go do the same for him.  He's worth it.  Beleive me, I know.  I happen to be speaking from beautiful, wonderful, long lasting experience.   

menu, shopping list, plus some tips and tricks I've gathered in the last 7 years

My first semester in college and away from home, my mom emailed me her Thanksgiving menu and shopping list.  I thought that was so cool.  I have an exceptional mother.  I copy her a lot - hence this post.

Thanksgiving is my DH's very favorite holiday.  He spent last years' big day overseas with a bunch of dudes, not ideal, to say the least.  So the pressure is on to get it right for him this year!  He's gettin' the boys from church ready for some flag football, and then later no doubt he'll watch some games with Ben on TV, while I'm prepping up for some serious kitchen time.  I'm making my list, checking it twice, and the kiddos and I are making the trip to walmart after music lessons today!!  Wish me luck!  

The Florida Andrews Family 

Thanksgiving Day Menu

Oven Roasted Turkey with Stuffing

Mushroom Gravy

Dairy Free Mashed Potatoes

Candied Yams with Marshmallows

Baked Asparagus

Relish Tray

Oranged Cranberry Sauce

Crescent Rolls

Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie

Lemon Meringue Pie

Sparkling Cider

The Shopping List

I read a few years ago a great tip for making your shopping lists.  The tip was to divide your list into four categories (I quarter my handwritten list by making a line down the middle top to bottom, and then one left to right).  The categories are Produce, Cold Items, Dry/Canned or Bottled Items, and Non-Food Items.  I simplify with Pro, Cold, Dry, and Non.  This has saved me so much time while shopping.  I don't have to do a lot of back and forth around the store while going through my list!  

So, thus categorized, here it is:

Pro

Oranges

2 lbs Cranberries 

baby carrots

celery

mushrooms

1 bag apples

2-3 lemons

asparagus

cherry tomatoes

Cold

orange juice

turkey

unsalted butter

Pillsbury crescent rolls

cream cheese

1 pre-made pie crust

heavy cream

whipped cream

egg nog

Dry

Sparkling Cider

Artichokes

baby dill pickles

baby sweet pickles

smoked oysters

hearts of palm

canned yams

graham cracker crumb pie crust

16 oz can pumpkin puree

dark brown sugar

turkey gravy packet

Stovetop stuffing mix

marshmallows

Non

candlesticks

dishwasher soap

Last year I discovered this recipe for Oranged Cranberry Sauce.  It's amazingly tasty.  It's a Jamaican recipe, and includes cinnamon.  It's my latest change to my evolving menu.  I'd also like to note that my dairy free mashed potatoes are my own recipe, and they're fabulous.  I bet if you did a blind test with mine and the dairy version, you wouldn't know which is which!

I still don't feel like I've mastered turkey roasting.  If you have tips to share, please pass them on!!  

I'll save a gratitude post for another time, but at the top of my list is having a husband home to cook for.  His favorite holiday just isn't as fun without him.  

Shining for the whole world to see . . .






 A good friend gave me this cute bib for Ben. 

Here's a few more glamour shots of our new little star shining brightly. 






Little blue chair for our little blue man. 






He loves his big sisters, and they're crazy about him!



How can we not adore this perfect little face?

our holistic classroom

It's 11:30 pm, and my baby is asleep.  I haven't had more than 4 consecutive hours of sleep in months now, and I'm beyond exhausted.  My limbs feel heavy, and my eyes have developed an unattractive puffiness.  Yet here I sit, typing away.  I actually don't want to go to bed right now.  I want to write, and share my thoughts with you.  Perhaps I'm too tired to make wise and healthy decisions.  Maybe I spend a little too much time at home sitting on my couch nursing and taking care of children, and this is my necessary window into the outside world.  Most likely it's a combination of both. 

As I wait for the photos from my new camera to load onto my computer, please allow me to ruminate about my slowly growing knowledge of the homeschool experience.  Some of you may know about my decision to keep Anny home for Kindergarten this year.  I haven't decided how long we will homeschool.  Circumstances are always changing- our location, our family size and situation, my patience level with my kids, their tolerance of me, the quality of local schools and teachers, and the list goes on.  Each year we'll reassess our situation, and decide.  This year the decision was to start at home. 

I like order, organization, and structure.  I have learned from experience that they are crucial to a successful school with classes of children.  I spent some time at a school that abandoned those things, and watched it fail miserably.  It was painful to teach there.  However to my surprise, in our little homeschool, I've found the opposite is true.  Structure, order and hours of lesson planning are not only unnecessary, but detrimental.  I don't need to teach that way, and shouldn't. 

I am enjoying a holistic style of education with my girls.  We don't have a schedule or cement routine.  We do a little math from a workbook, then bake cookies and talk about measurements.  Anny's sentence structure and handwriting practice can be in the form of a letter to Grandma, and her science lesson is with Daddy as they look up the weather radar of an approaching tropical storm.  The girls ask questions, and we stop what we're doing to explore the answers. I incorporate housework with studies whenever I can.  Merrylee and I can listen to Anny read while I'm on the couch nursing Ben.  Today I found a huge snail on our driveway, so we had a hands on, exploratory biology lesson.  Anny's long list of "why" questions don't detract from the lesson, they are the lesson.  We go with the flow, and it's wonderful. 

Don't worry, I'm not completely without structure.  I've looked up the FL core curriculum, and make long term goals, and order materials to align with them.  We have textbooks.  I got to choose them though, and I chose books that are interesting,and incorporate children's literature into the lessons.  They are tools though, and we set them aside to discuss and explore when it feels right.  My mom's advice as I started teaching was to relax.  If we're having a rough day, put the workbooks away and read a story, pop in an educational dvd, or better yet, leave the house and visit the playground.  She said to enjoy being together.  It has taken a bit out of me to abandon my training of order and intense planning.  I know my children though, so the adapting and tailor-fitting of lessons has been a surprisingly easy job.  The organization in a way was already there, it's just a little more instantaneous than planning for a group of 25 children from 25 different homes.   

Here are some pictures of some science adventures we've had.  We purchased Painted Lady caterpillars, and learned about their life cycle.  After watching them form chrysalises and miraculously emerge as butterflies, this week we set them free in our backyard.  There are also some photos of Dad helping the girls with a little turtle rescue experience.  He found this poor guy trapped by the fence in our backyard.  Dad held him so the girls could check him out, and they watched him walk in the yard a bit.  Then they put him in a tupperware with a little water, and walked about a half a mile to a nearby stream.  It's hard to see the stream in the pictures, but as soon as our little green friend heard that rushing water, he seemed to instinctively know he was home, and headed straight for it.  Dad had a very full Saturday, but he knows a good teaching opportunity when he sees one, and felt the yard work, college football, and prep for Sunday church meetings could wait.  I love that man.

Several hours have passed since I first sat down to write this entry.  I've now been interrupted by a coughing three-year old, a smiling and very awake, very cute baby boy, and a dime sized frog I caught hopping across the carpet. He's now climbing the side of an overturned glass I grabbed from the kitchen.  Can anyone guess what we'll be studying for science tomorrow?  Hey- he dared to enter my house, he suffers the consequences of study and observation by two pairs of curious little eyes before being set free.

Another sleepless night.  It looks like my puffy eyed look will continue, as does my busy, crazy, unorganized, unstructured, yet happy and full life.          

Look at Anny's skirt and you can see a butterfly that just flew out!

The turtle is just to the left of the bottom middle of the picture.

Be free little guy!

Meet the world's cutest little naturalists!

Pass the Hinny Minny's please!

All kids mispronounce things.  It's a part of speech development, and pretty cute.  Sometimes I think the way my girls have mispronounced certain words, are actually an improvement on them.  We've come to use the improved version in our everyday speech at home.  If you ever hear us use the improvements instead of the official word, I have provided the Andrews Sisters-English translation below, for your own personal reference.   

For your convenience, I've listed the words in alphabetical order. 

Binanan  (Banana)
Dusting Panner (Dust pan)
Hinny Minny's (Frosted Mini Wheats)
Hoopa-loop (Hula-hoop)
Lellow (Yellow)
Marshlellow (Marshmellow)

It's a short but cute list.  After all, we do have smart little girls who love to talk, so mispronunciations aren't in a great abundance.  I'm not actually convinced that's what these are, to be honest.  They're more like creative interpretations of the words.  Feel free to add them to your own vocabulary!

Now if you'll please excuse me, I need to go use the dusting panner to finish sweeping up the breakfast mess my girls made from marshlellow and Hinny Minny cereals.  I'd ask Anny to help me, but she's busy using her binanan lellow hoopa-loop.   

the Patience

The cute but seemingly clueless Italian admirer of Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner gave her a surprising bit of wisdom that I found myself repeatedly quoting in my head tonight.  He said to her, "You need to learn the patience.  Sometimes love, is just love"

I'm not sure exactly what the "love is just love" part meant, but over and over I've been repeating in my head, "you need to learn the patience".

The phrase "parenthood requires patience" is sort of a burned out phrase.  We all hear it, and think, "well yes, of course it does."

However I always imagined that meant being patient when your toddler wakes up with nightmares, being patient when milk is spilled on the floor, patiently teaching your kids to clean up their toys, or not argue.  Those occasions do require patience, it's true, and yet they don't even begin to describe the word.

There are many "Patience is . . . . stories we all can tell about our kids.  Here's mine for tonight.

Patience is when your daughter is Reading Hop on Pop, and on every 8 word page, she pauses to analyze the picture for 30 seconds, reads the words, comments on the picture,"Look!  They're hopping on his tummy!!!  That's so silly!"
and then asks a question about it, with the expectation of a fully drawn out answer.

Anny:"Why are they hopping on their Dad?"
Me:"I don't know, to be silly I guess"
Anny: "Don't they know it can hurt?"
Me: "Maybe they didn't think about that"
Anny: "Why wouldn't they think about that?"
Me: "I'm not sure.  Maybe they're naughty kids"
Anny: "Why are they naughty kids?"
Me: "I don't know Anny, it's just a story"
Anny: "Don't they love their Daddy?  Jumping on him is not nice..."

At this point I have turned the page, looking at the remaining 30 or so pages left, and thinking over and over, "the patience, the patience, you need to learn the patience...."

I didn't start the book with this attitude.  I opened it with anticipation, thinking "I'm pretty sure she can read this, I love my daughter, she's so smart, this is going to be so fun hearing her read the bedtime story all by herself!"

On the first page as she scans the picture I think, "Look at her analyzing the scene, that's a sign of great reading comprehension, and something I should encourage!"

However by page 32, we've gone through a similar routine 32 times, varied occasionally by her fixing her hair for a minute, and then pausing to scratch her foot.  Then she'll begin again to analyze the picture, read the words, and have an in depth conversation about it.  If Merrylee interrupts her we sometimes get to go through the routine twice per page, because she gets distracted and feels she must begin again.  No need to remind her she's already scanned this picture, after all- this is a sign of great reading comprehension, and something I should encourage, right??? 

There are 64 pages in that book.

I love Dr. Seuss, but what was he thinking?!!!  Obviously he never had kids.  Ten pages would have been generous.

I could create an entire new blog dedicated to Patience is ... parenting moments.  Perhaps I could do one about how a short blog entry takes two hours to write because every five minutes my baby starts fussing and wants to be held, and typing with one hand is hard.

Sometimes being a mother is delightful, and blissfully sweet.

Sometimes blissfully sweet takes too long, it's an hour past bedtime, and Mom's exhausted.

Someday I will learn "the patience".  Maybe.