Memoria Arts~ Life in the Making

He's home!

James was released Sunday afternoon. Praise the Lord! He is on some pretty hefty steroids to keep his lungs strong, but they felt comfortable enough with his improvement to allow him to go home. They'll keep close watch on him over the next week to make sure that the pneumonia has truly retreated.

He still has quite a recovery ahead of him, but he is so glad to be back to the comfort of home. I was reminded again of how pleasant it is to come home to comfort. I noted it after the miscarriage and subsequent surgery, and I saw it again as we returned home last night. You don't really notice it until there has been a lack of it. There is no comparison between a hospital room and a pleasantly appointed bed room. I could just see James relaxing for the first time in days as he slid under the cool soft sheets, with the ceiling fan blowing a light breeze. There was our quiet green painted walls and our favorite photographs to see just across the way, and a window out to our backyard to look at. We have soft lighting on either side of the bed...no overhead. Such a contrast to the dreary beige walls, harsh lighting, and rough sheets and blankets of the hospital! I think we often mistake a magazine perfect home with a friendly, comforting home. Sometimes they are the same things- being both pretty and functional, I mean. But I think it's so important to make sure your home is comfortable over being picture perfect. So what if the couch is the latest thing in furnishings- can you sink down in it with a good book and cuddle with the kids? Is it easy to clean? Will you often find a member of the family curled up on it? It truly doesn't take a lot of money, so much as it takes a bit of forethought and consideration. And isn't it interesting how a few pieces of home can make one feel comfortable in unpleasant settings? Your own pillow, the quilt from home...a favorite picture or two? And what little touches make a sick one feel better? A glass of water, an interesting book to read (or perhaps a new coloring book for a little one who must stay abed)...they only take a few minutes, but the little touches show how much the sick one is loved and cared for.

(Although, as James laughingly pointed out to one of the nurses, it won't be very long before we will return to the hospital- just a few weeks- but thankfully, it will be for a much happier reason. Only a few weeks until Bean makes his debut. My oldest, Ben, wanted to know why we didn't bring him home from the hospital yesterday, as he associates the hospital with me and having babies. What a giggle we had over that!)

Sing a love song (and a quiet request for prayer)...

For better or worse, in sickness and in health...
I promised you...
I love you so very much.
I can't believe seven years have passed by so quickly...
like a blink of an eye.
You are my home,
my safe place to rest,
my best friend,
my strongest defender.
Happy Anniversary, Beloved one. I am forever yours.
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On June 26th, James was admitted to the hospital for complications in relation to pneumonia. It was not entirely unexpected. Today (Saturday) they still have not released him. He must make a 60 to 70% improvement in order to be released tomorrow- but the expectation (of the doctors) is that he will not be released before Monday afternoon at the earliest. Please pray for him, for me, for the children. For strength for his lungs, that his immune system would kick in and begin to fight. The main problem is that he is not stabilizing. He will be fine for a few hours (when meds are at their peak), but deteriorate rapidly until the next cycle of medication kicks in. Until he stabilizes, he cannot return home with oral medication. (Currently on IV). Thank you so much for your thoughts and prayers- there are updates on Facebook (since I can update by phone that way) at my account there. Please pray for his encouragement- he is in finals week (a senior getting his bachelors) and this was to be our anniversary weekend as well- needless to say, this was not what he wanted to be doing this week!

Occupied country...

The Din Undoes Us
(written in anticipation of reading 1 Samuel 2-3: [Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening])

Our lives are occupied territory…
occupied by a cacophony of voices,
and the din outdoes us.

In the daytime we have no time to listen,
beset as we are by anxiety and goals
and assignments and work,
and in the night the voices are so confusing
we can hardly sort out what could possibly be your voice
 from the voice of our mothers and our fathers
 our best friends and our pet projects,
because they all sound so much like you.

We are people over whom that word shema has been written.
We are listeners, but we do not listen well.

So we bid you, by the time the sun goes down today
or by the time the sun comes up tomorrow,
by night or by day,
that you will speak to us in ways that we can hear
out beyond ourselves.

 It is your speech to us that carries us where we have never been,
and it is your speech to us that is our only hope.
So give us ears.
 Amen.

~ Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Brueggemann.

Starting the week...

Outside my window...

It is warm and sunny, but looks like rain for the afternoon. Dark ugly clouds off to the west.

I am thinking...

How amazing it is to be at week 34 of my fifth pregnancy. I've been so very blessed this pregnancy. With the exception of my typical hip issues (that have plagued since my pregnancy with Lorelei) this pregnancy has been so calm and uneventful. The fatigue is setting in, but I feel very ready for whatever happens next.

I am thankful for...

The quiet, joyful weekend I experienced. I feel much better 'in the head' as well as physically. My younger two have recovered from the Roseolla and James is mending well. I want to carry the feeling of peace into the week.

From the learning rooms...

We're on a bit of a break. We learn through out the year without taking a very big break for summer, although our summer routine is much lighter in some ways than our fall/winter/spring routine. Currently, I'm working on a bit of a learning room overhaul as we swap out last year's pursuits with the new ones. The boys have been very interested in building, architecture, and farming, so our library check outs this morning really reflected that. Very low key right now...will probably pick math back up next week. That may be it until late August.

From the kitchen...

Lots of simple recipes. I am getting to the point that time spent in the kitchen tires me easily. Lots of fresh veggies being included from the farmer's market. Can't wait for the blackberries- they should be harvesting those soon. Thinking about meals to freeze ahead for baby's arrival. Any suggestions on your favorite freezable recipes?

I am wearing...

Comfy maternity jeans, green tank top, black shirt over top, no shoes. I even put earrings on today...I must be feeling better!

I am creating...

I have finally been able to return to my Cardboard Testimony commission in some small ways. Much of the next few weeks will be dedicated to completing it. Thankfully, they are being very understanding. I would like to finish it before the baby arrives.

I am reading...

Educating the Whole Hearted Child by Clay and Sally Clarkson

I am hoping...

for a resolution to some professional obligations. Culling back my time as the baby's birth approaches.

Listening to...

the new Dave Matthew's Band CD, Fiction Family, and the MP3s from the convention. Oh, and Pandora, always. Currently: David Neuve, which is quiet piano music.

Around the house...

Finished an office overhaul this weekend- rearranging and re-sourcing storage. (Our office/playroom/learning room are all the same thing, essentially.) Keeping up with the basic chores. Amazed that the laundry is staying caught up! *smiles*

One of my favorite things...

Lorelei's and David's language acquisition is growing and changing daily. Lorelei is talking in clear, full somewhat complex sentences- but I love how she interprets some of the words she is learning. So tickled to figure out what she's saying. And David seems to be adding a word a day. It blows my mind. His big thing right now is saying 'bye' to everyone everywhere no matter whether we are coming or going. It's so funny!

A few plans for the rest of the week:

A pursuit of peace, really. We've been going so much in the last few weeks that this week is a purposeful 'do-nothing' sort of week, especially for the kids. Want them to have lots of time to run and play and swim, and get back on their normal nap schedules. Trying to keep things just as low key for James, who has final projects and finals over the next week and a half. He's almost done, and I am so proud of him!

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

More daybooks here.

Found

I found grace
Painting butterflies down her arm
Precious rare of untold worth
Come from fired hurt
Vessel sweet of Glory beat
Her heart sang
Of loss came life
Of Hope spread wide
Swirling paintbrush
Glitter dust
I found grace
Flying free.

Breathe deep...

    We are all breathing a little easier over here. We caught this illness fast enough that hopefully James can stay ahead of it with agressive asthma meds- they think he actually has the roseolla that the kids have (without the rash, and with a more severe upper respiratory infection). I never thought I'd be thankful for some one to have something viral over something bacterial, but the bacterial upper respiratory infections don't seem to respond well to meds with him. He's still miserable, but he's breathing easier and looks a bit pinker around the gills. The babies have improved immensely. (I guess I won't be able to call them 'the babies' much longer. 'The toddlers' doesn't seem to have the same ring.) Their rashes are fading and they seem to be almost back to their normal selves.
     I am continuously struck by the treasure of breath every time we face an upper respiratory infection around our house. It's just a thing I take for granted, this breathing. In and out. Over and over. Although I struggled a little with asthma when I was younger, it's nothing like the seeming monster that my husband has to battle. One minute, it's the natural intake of air- the next, he's fighting for all he's worth, lips turning blue as his body searches desperately for oxygen. His asthma is so unusual in that it comes on so fast that there is no way to circumvent the attack. It is carefully monitored daily- his doctor and allergist have been so very careful. But there is just something about the upper respiratory infections that will just send him right over the edge like a tidal wave proceeds a hurricane. The sound is unholy- if you've never heard a severe asthma attack (and I hope you never do if you haven't) imagine a tin whistle crossed with a vacuum cleaner- or maybe something stuck in a vacuum cleaner- but the thing making the sound is human and gasping as they do it.
    One of the worst times, he ended up in the hospital for five days, stuck on oxygen (along with a vicious cocktail of medicines that worked hard to open his lungs back up). Five days. My otherwise healthy and amazing husband has this thing to contend with and it's hard not to fear. I remember that week like it was yesterday. Young wife, two young little boys. He had been working extra long hours as a sheriff's deputy. And one night, everything came to a screeching halt. I recognized the attack for what it was and quickly drove him to the ER (I still wonder if I should have called 911 instead). I'll never forget as we came in, how fast the oxygen went on...that mask wouldn't come off again for days. His oxygen levels (SpO2) were in the 30s, when it should have been 100%. They were taking blood gases out of one arm and putting an IV in the other...I got pushed out of the room by a nurse. This sudden realization that I could lose him. I don't think fear quite quantifies what I felt that night. He was so young! I was so young! The children. Odd as this sounds, I entered adulthood that night. Nothing was quite the same after that.
    What I was trying to say in my exhaustion addled state the other day was that I realize how much things have changed in my attitude in relation to crisis. Crisis used to cripple me. I would just sort of stop thinking, stop feeling, shut down. And yes, maybe there are some times when that reaction is an appropriate sign of grief. But in a lot of ways, what I call crisis isn't really a crisis- deep water, perhaps. Dark days, yes. But many of the times, God has purposefully set me in that moment, whether I want to admit it or not. (I do think that we can bring calamity upon ourselves with willful disobedience, but that's not really what I am referring to here.) The only way to come out good as gold is to go through the furnace. There's no escaping it if we want the end point. Sort of like, if I want to get across this body of water, I can't just sit in the middle of the lake with my legs going like an egg beater. I have to swim. As odd as this sounds, I feel a peace about crisis that I used not to feel, a grace and a strength that tomorrow is another day, and the sun will rise. AND, perhaps just as important, I've stopped letting stress force me into running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I think that's where half the paralysis would come from, from trying to do too much and getting overwhelmed and shutting down in response.
    Now, I feel like finding the base line with my family has really changed all that. I would have never thought in my 'younger marriage years' (and ack, how weird does it sound to say that! *giggles*) to sit down with my husband and really talk it all out and pray it all through. What are our family priorities? What defines us? What do we desire for our kids? When we did finally have that discussion two and a half years ago, it was a whole new world. I finally had a focus and purpose to my days. Things began to fall into a rhythm that reflected those priorities. And then about a year ago, we sort of had a practical discussion in that vein as it related to homekeeping and child care. What is really important as far as discipline goes? What will we absolutely not tolerate and discipline for every time, and what can slide on the crazy days? And what will drive us nuts or make me feel really overwhelmed with the house when the day slides sideways? This question of essentials, really.
    This last week was a perfect example. (And what I was trying to say and being totally unclear about.) Things have been very weird and crazy and not 'normal' (although I tend to agree with Erma Bombeck that normal is only a setting on the dryer). In the past, the feeling of being overwhelmed, of not being able to focus, of just sort of shutting down in the face of all the craziness would have been my go-to response. But now I have the essentials, the base line of the rhythm. Sure, it ain't gonna be a pretty six part harmony, and it might squeak in the middle, but it's still our song. Working with James last year, I realized that my triggers were the laundry, the dishes, and the kids bathroom. If the laundry had gotten way behind, (and we were veering towards not having clean underthings or I couldn't find pants), it's almost like my brain would misfire. I would see the mountain and I just couldn't climb it. So James goes out of his way, and I commit to, starting and folding at least one load a day (and if we're actually on top of it, that's usually all I have to do). He knows that he can really help my sanity when things go sideways to get it caught up. The dishes- I have a teeny, tiny kitchen and very very messy children. (It's the age of learning to eat for at least one child every year, so I've learned to accept the mess factor!) And my kitchen happens to be at the top of the stairs- you see it as soon as you walk in the front door. If there are dishes spilling out of the sink, and oatmeal smeared from one end of the counter to the other, (and I'm pregnant) it might actually bring me to tears. So I know for me that I need to have that clean. And that's one of those basic chores I commit to no matter how bad I might be feeling, I know I need to get it as soon as the meal is over. The third is the kids bathroom. I guess it's just the germ factor of having boys, but that thing is nasty more often times than not! It's used constantly. And it can get bad quick. James knows (especially while I'm pregnant) that it needs to get a 'look-see' at least once a day. Quick wipe down, check the tp, what have you. (Not an extensive cleaning). I've found that if I can't get to a real bathroom cleaning for a while, it doesn't take so much to get it clean. Now, that being said, those are the essentials. You could walk in my house on a given day during a crazy time, and there would literally be toys and piles from one end of the house to the other, the kitchen floor could be positively crunchy from spilled cherrios and the like, and woe to the poor person who sits on the duplo that slipped between the cracks of the sofa. (And I wouldn't recommend looking at any flat surfaces- my kids like to draw in the dust.) BUT. You would have clean clothes, and a clean place to eat (and for me to prepare your meal) and the chances of you catching some alien bacterium while visiting the facilities would be very low. And it makes me feel like I can get through the day. It makes me feel like I can breathe.

Grace and rhythm...

I was musing about the one-piece life before leaving for our trip...what it has meant to me, this journey I'm on.

It's interesting looking at it from the lens of having been away from my house and home for nearly three weeks. It wasn't exactly a vacation. It was for my kids- Grandma Camp had been planned for nearly six months. But for my husband and I, it was an epic back and forth...mess. Six and a half hours one way, back again a few days later, and when we actually slipped home during that time, over a stretch of three or four days, we spent only five or so hours (not counting sleeping) actually at home. Doing things. Catching up on the endless to-do list. Then back again, six and a half hours, after serving a morning-long stint at fellowship. (Something else that had been on the calendar for months.) We spent the two of the three days we were actually at my mother's house dealing with stuff from back home- a full workload of school work for James, phone calls and emails for me in my volunteer position as coordinator of a home school co-op. Only one day, one day, out of that whole trip did we actually 'vacation', taking our kids to the Air and Space Museum. And then it was the home school convention- another thing that had been on the calendar for over six months. The circumstances of it all were just beyond our control. There was no way to know that we would end up in such a discombobulated schedule. There are just seasons like that...sudden illness, what have you. It's all out of your hands. It was just about all I could do to hold on through it all...but I feel like I did a much better job of coping with things this time through. And I credit that to the peace we have cultivated here at home. I could hold on because I knew that eventually we would get home, and eventually things would calm down. Having a routine really helped my kids in an unfamiliar place- my mom really endeavored to do some of the same things we do here at home with them at the same times. It helped to ground them. They handled all the craziness like champs- in fact, they had a really good time and were upset when it was time to come home.

We got home, and well, we had some unfriendly souvenirs along- Lorelei and David (who had been fighting fevers when we left Grandma's house) suddenly developed ugly rashes Monday morning. I can't say I was grace-filled at all when I realized what we were facing. In fact, I lost it. I sort of wanted to have a pity-party about it all- "Come on! I'm 32 weeks pregnant! I'm exhausted! I'm tired and confused and the last thing I need is sick kids...AGAIN...there is so much that has to happen!" And I think I did, for a moment, just sort of lose my footing. And then I prayed. I just sort of wordlessly turned it to a prayer and begged the Lord for grace, because I just knew, knew, it was only by His will and strength that I was going to get through the day. (What I find interesting is that this is true every day, but I so often fail to realize that. I keep thinking I can run on my own power.) I still felt awful after praying, not the least at peace. I made the phone call to the doctor. I ran the errands. Come to find out both of the toddlers had roseola (or Sixth's disease- an upper respiratory infection), Lorelei had strep, and David had an ear infection. To say that I am over the constant illness in our house is to make quite the understatement. I am beyond done with this. On the other hand, I understand it is a season. I know it's just the age, and aside from doing my best to stay ahead of the germs and snot, it's just a reality of right now. Still, that doesn't make me feel better. To add to this, my severely asthmatic husband (who is at his worst in the spring) has caught the bronchitis that my sister and father had. What is sort of an annoyance for everyone else is down right dangerous for my husband- an upper respiratory infection (of which two virus strains are present in my family right now) can mean days-long hospitalization if we can't get ahead of it with steroids and antibiotics at home. I am not ready for this.

But this is what God has called me too. I read Andrea's post this morning, and I could relate so well- it was hard for me not to cry as I read it because she could have been taking the words right out of my mouth. (We are only a week a part in our fifth pregnancies.)

I realized that part of my practical Grace to myself was to have our family rhythm in place, to know what I really felt like my priorities are each day. In the absolute chaos of the last few days, I've been able to just put one foot in front of the other, remember the beat, and walk. My house is in some semblance of order- there are clean clothes to wear, food to eat. Is it clean? Not by a lot of people's standards. But it is flowing, which is what is important right now. The floors are a little crunchy, the dust is so thick my kids are drawing murals in them, there are piles and piles all over the place (remember, we just got home from vacation and the convention- tons of clothes and tons of books!), but the bathrooms are clean, there isn't snot on the door handles. (Important with such germ machines!) I've gotten so used to the rhythm that I don't even have to think it through...I just do it...which is so important at this point where late-pregnancy brain drain and exhaustion is taking over.

With God's help, I am ready for this- whether I realize it or not. God is in control here. He's got a reason for this craziness. I just need to walk.

All this to say, though, if you think of us in the next few days, please lift us up in prayer. We could really use it!

Pulling me up by the boot straps...

Convention.

Balm to a homeschool mother's heart. Sometimes.

Other times, a distraction and a burden that pulls us away from what we need to do for our own family.

This time?

Just what I needed.

It is so fascinating to attend these now as a second-generation home schooler. I remember the infancy of homeschooling in our area. I remember when there were only a few curriculums to choose from and woe to the poor kiddo who couldn't handle the bookwork inherent in those work-book based curriculums. And now? Take your pick. Unschool, eclectic, Charlotte Mason, Trivium, Classical, on and on and on and on. And just as many vendors for each...enough to make a brand new homeschooler's eyes pop and get burn out before they even start. I loved this post by Elizabeth...it summed up so perfectly what I think about it all, essentially: stay in your own lane. Do what works for you and your family. And bathe everything, and I do mean everything, with prayer. One of the questions I get so often (when mamas find out that I am second-generation) is "I've switched curriculum for my child, because I thought this or that was better suited, but am I setting this child up for failure? What did your mom do? Did she switch curriculum when she schooled you?" I understand this fear, don't get me wrong. But inwardly, I smile. I think I experienced five or so different curriculums over my homeschool adventure. I remember the year when Saxon math was first published, because it was such a godsend for my math-addled brain. I was failing with Abeka, and both me and my mom were knocking our heads against the wall trying to understand why I just wasn't getting it. And now? Take your pick of math programs! So many different ways to get to the end point, and all of them good. I tell these mamas not to worry- that I seemed to turn out alright...and that I have the double degree to prove it (not that it matters in the grand scheme of things, but passing that university benchmark seemed to really bring them peace!)

To me, the beauty of homeschooling is the unique and inherent flexibility in it. As home schooling has moved more main stream it seems like that facet of it has been a bit forgotten as people try to 'do school at home' instead of moving into a lifestyle of learning. There is a huge difference. I love that I can tailor things to each of my sons' unique needs. Ben thrives with a 'typical' workbook education with lots of nature walks and art and music thrown in- nothing gives him more pleasure than working through his math book. Seriously. The kid finishes his last lesson of AO- Horizon Math K about three weeks ago. (There are two workbooks for each of the elementary years.) "Mommy, when will I start my third math book?" Me: [Flabbergasted] "Uh, well honey, we're on vacation. I am going to get your math book at the convention in two weeks. Can you wait till then or do I need to get it now?" Ben: [thinks hard] "Well, I guess. I want to know more. I know lots about clocks now. And money. And counting. See? 1, 2, 3 [Counts all the way to 100]." He takes to learning like a duck to water. He really likes knowing things. Isaiah is a different story. With his SPD and fine and gross motor skill delays, typical schooling is hard. But I don't have to do typical with him! We do Handwriting Without Tears, Math U See....and lots and lots of reading. He loves to look at books, he loves to memorize and sing...he needs to see and touch and feel through his school day. He's learning in his own way, and that is just fine. I'll be curious to see what Lorelei and David will be like when they get to this age, what their learning styles will be...it's such a fun adventure. And there is nothing cooler than seeing the lightbulbs go on!

I feel so blessed that I have my mama to mentor me through this homeschooling adventure. She has a wealth of knowledge that I can draw from. That being said, it is hilarious to go to convention with her as a Grandma, because she is such a Grandma! Bragging on the kids, buying them rubber band rockets and t-shirts...just all around spoiling them rotten. I love it!
 
So what 'filled up the tank' so to speak?

There are always a ton of good speakers...this year was no exception. But I really, really needed to hear Dianne Craft speak. She's a nutritionist, and the whole weekend she was focusing on the connection between food, allergies, and behavioral/chemical issues. One whole segment was on Sensory Processing Disorder alone. We have known, Isaiah's pediatricians have known, that he has serious food allergies. And we've removed as many triggers as we can. But Dianne had the 'missing piece' of the puzzle- what we need to put back in to his diet to balance out all the stuff we've had to take out. James and I sat in those workshops and scribbled like mad to catch all the notes, she had so much information to give. I was so blessed. Interestingly enough, although we've easily accepted that Isaiah has allergy related behavior issues, it never dawned on us to consider that Ben might have some of the same allergies as Isaiah...I'm not sure why. But as James and I were listening to Diane speak, we kept looking at each other and mouthing "Ben?" So it looks like another round of elimination diets might be happening around here...to rule out some obvious allergies. She also really made me consider that I have not been taking care of myself properly, and I am dealing with some really stupid issues. Stupid only becase they are easily fixed with careful diet, but I haven't been taking that time to care for myself. I haven't really been paying attention and just going. But after the convention, I decided enough of that. A family member's issue with heart and high blood pressure scared me right out of my lack of care...so a new adventure.

All in all, it was great. I am glad I went. I'm glad that James got to go with me. I feel so blessed to have a husband that takes the time to be involved and help me make these decisions. The thrill of the 'find the used curriculum' hunt is ten-fold much more fun when we're doing it together. It got to be quite the competition.

Of course.

My very pregnant body did not like the convention. Not. One. Bit. But it was so worth it. And now I have six weeks to relax and recover! (Just let me stay in my denial, alright?)

Grandma Camp 09

It was a huge success. My brother graduated on the 30th, so we had three generations vacationing together for much of the time- my Grandma and Poppa (my father's parents), and my Oma (my mother's mother). What my mom arranged was an excellent example of a "staycation"...everything she found for the kids was either free or nearly free and less than an hour's drive from her house. It's inspired me to look at my hometown in a different way for the summer too.

 In no particular order, here are some of the many things they did:

- pool party (daily) at the next door neighbor's
- a trip to the beach (Virginia Beach, VA)
- the Nauticus museum (home of the USS Wisconsin, Norfolk, VA)
- the Parksley Train Museum (on the Eastern Shore of VA)
- the Parksley Fire Department (Eastern Shore, VA)
- the Asseateague Light House (Eastern Shore, VA)
- the Chicnoteague Marsh (Eastern Shore, VA~ Remember the book Misty of Chicnoteague? They saw the ponies!)
- the Virginia Air and Space Museum (Newport News, VA)
- daily trips to the park

Pictures and philosophies...

My mom's computer has a virus, so I can't post any pictures...but as soon as my favorite Geek gets it all fixed up, they will be forthcoming...so many adventures. We've been having a blast....and rumor has it that more than a few people have asked to be adopted for Grandma Camp next year after seeing the pictures on Facebook. Ha ha ha ha. I'm not sharing! *laughter*
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Just a short little note today (all that fun we're having, of course):

This weekend marks the end of my first year homeschooling my kids. (In case you haven't read here long, I was home schooled myself.) I have a feeling of both accomplishment and trepidation. Two things I am thankful for in the tough year we have had: the flexibility of homeschooling, and secondly, the way homeschooling has brought us together as a family. I've known these benefits to homeschooling intellectually for years (how could I not?), but this year is the first year I knew what a benefit they were on a much deeper level. We strive for an atmosphere of learning always, but I was so thankful that we could pick up and go while we waited in endless doctor's waiting rooms...how we could car school as we took Daddy to endless interviews...how it was okay if we just needed a rest from the craziness and take a day a day off. And how, at the end of a discouraging tough day for us all, we would all curl up on the couches and disappear into far off lands via our reading together, and all that stress would fall away. We've had shared adventures together in conjunction with our learning that have knit us together in a time that would commonly divide and scatter a family. It has been such a integral component of our family surviving, even thriving, through a difficult time. I am so grateful.

I am amazed at the ground Isaiah has covered. Ben is such a curious kid that we almost have to tell him to stop learning and exploring and discovering some days...about the only thing he even sort of struggles with is writing, mostly because he doesn't want to have to stop 'doing' for those short few minutes. But Isaiah? Due to his Sensory Processing Disorder, he could barely sit up straight in a chair, let alone hold a pencil and write. Again, teaching him at home is uniquely suited, as his therapy didn't stop when he walked out the therapist's door- we brought it right home and kept working with him, kept providing him the tools he needed- attention that just would not be possible in a more formal school setting. Could you imagine a teacher letting him doing his handwriting upside down underneath a table facing up, because he could 'feel' his shoulder, arm, and wrist that much the better with his body pushed into the floor? Incidentally, I cannot recommend Handwriting Without Tears enough for any kid, but especially kids with gross and fine motor skills difficulties, sensory issues, etc. And what incredible improvements he has made over the year! I am excited to see where he will head next. I'm excited to see where they both will head next.

I've been thinking about my 'philosophy' of home schooling a lot this last month or so, as I've evaluated what went well this year, what hasn't, and on and on. I think I am still in the formulating stage, but I ran across two posts yesterday that just resonated. I can relate very much to this post by Elizabeth, except that in my case I was recovering from a life-threatening miscarriage and she was healing from a life threatening labor... I was so very struck by the fact that we have come to many of the same conclusions, but the endings were very much different. I just can't agree with what she had to say more. I am at peace, and I am grateful. And that's what I want to remember, first and foremost, about this homeschooling adventure- I need to leave it in God's hands...He will direct and guide and it will be okay. The second piece was by Susan of High Desert Home. I can't tell you how much I shall miss Susan blogging, but I am praying that she leaves her archives up because if I started to print off all the articles that have encouraged me over the years, I'd need a few notebooks...one of her next to last posts was sort of an outlining of her learning philosophy. James (my husband) and I both read it and found ourselves nodding at so much of what she has said...and again, as James summarized, it's not about us educating, it's about God teaching...and we need to keep ourselves out of the way. That's where the trepidation comes in- I know myself enough to know that I often get ahead and get to going to much and get a bit crazy, and that's the last thing I want to do. So that's my prayer for this next year- that I'll stay in my own lane, going the speed that God wants me to go, avoiding the potholes that so easily entangle me. (To paraphrase a verse.)

First stop, the refueling station. At last year's convention, even though I was very familiar with it all, I felt like a deer in the headlights...there was just way too much too absorb. This year I am excited- I know much more about what I want to learn about, and books I want to add to our family library. There's a couple of workshops specifically about teaching multiple age groups and with toddlers underfoot that I can't wait to attend.

See you next week!