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me. lately.
I thought I had worked so long at loosening fear’s grip at my throat that I shouldn’t have to fight so hard any longer. But isn’t that usually the way? When you think you’ve made it, you get a little sloppy. You get a little lazy. And you provide an opportunity to allow the exact thing you’ve been fighting to creep back into your mind. You unwittingly create this tiny sink hole. And because you’re so unprepared, so lacking in armor, you fall right in and risk being swallowed up by a monster you thought you’d already defeated. That’s where I’ve been this week. A little off-kilter. Sensitive to…
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speaking of . . .
Lately Piper says . . . “Speaking of…” She says it before she begins any random sentence. And most often when we have not at all been speaking of anything of which she speaks. “Speaking of corn – can I have some?” “Speaking of peanut butter – can I lick some peanut butter?” And this one. Said for real. “Speaking of pants – where are mine?”
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masterly inactivity
Masterly Inactivity. Almost an oxymoron. It’s a hard one for sure. Another Charlotte Mason tenet I try to figure out the balance of what she says and what I know and what we’re actually doing and how I can misuse even the beautiful intentions of my own heart. Masterly Inactivity. It’s the idea that our children need time. They need large quantities of time when they are not being shuffled from class to piano to karate to dinner to homework to bath to bed. They need time regularly. And in abundance. Time to begin and finish that wooden block village that looks exactly like Jamestown. Time to spend so long…
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because we need more crazy . . .
Introducing – (it’s not a Keigley baby, but it’s kind of named like one) Secret Agent Pilgrim.
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this is where the time goes . . .
At ten o’clock last night, I sat on the sofa, sighed deeply and wondered to where in the world my day had escaped. I told Kevin that the same thing happened to me every evening around ten o’clock. I entertained thoughts of jealousy of my husband. There he was, ten o’clock, clearly finished for the day. Resting clothes, resting posture, resting mindset. He’d put in his hours, worked his tasks and was done, if not content, with his completion of what had been set before him that day. And there I was, ten o’clock, mind racing with a to-do list and a wish-I-could-do list. A sigh of – this is…
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in the gallery
On her own, all the time, London draws. She holds her pencil contrary to the way in which I showed her in kindergarten. But like so often in her eight years, she has discovered her own way to approach a task and she has mastered it in that unique manner. This time, her pencil captured Otto Fox Wilder and all the treasures that matter to him. And I could not have done better. This I know.
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Tricks of the Trade. 2.
Clearly, after my questions post yesterday, it is evident that I am still treading water most days in the parenting realm. But, like any profession, there are a few bits and pieces I’ve picked up here and there that seem to be working – at the moment. And those are the types of morsels I’m sharing in this Tricks of the Trade posts. Here it is . . . . Consider carefully what posters/art/decorations you hang around the bed of your sweet child. It’s subtle – but those wall hangings will probably be etched on their brains and as familiar to them as the sound of their own nickname when…
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endless. the questions are.
I’ve asked questions before. I love them, you know. So this is my current line of thoughts tonight . . . . Here’s what I want to know: How do you parent 18? Why does my two year old love the word “no”? What’s the right response to a letter written by my eight year old that says “I don’t think you really love me” because I disciplined her? Why is it so hard to find one free night a week to have all the siblings cook dinner together? Is there any parent worse at the art of potty training than I am? What if her face really froze like…
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And So We Camped
This is what I mean when I say we went camping: We slept in a tent. All eight of us. In some sort of rotating hodge podge leg over leg arm in your face fashion. Kids peed in the woods. Some kids pooped in the woods. We only had the water we carried in and there was no electrical outlet nearby. Which was fine as we had no need of any item requiring electricity. Jamal gave us a hammock. It seemed to be the highlight of our camping spot. It was rarely empty. (Thank you Jamal. Thank you!) Inside the tent the kids played card games. A short walk through…
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Race Day Rundown
We’re out of the woods, back from the wilds. Now for the race day tale. Ahem. It’s a short one. This is us before the race. (Well. This is them actually, as I couldn’t find anyone per-race to take our picture.) Kevin took the lead with the double stroller, loaned to us by friends and perfect for the evening. The rest of the kids followed his lead. I volunteered to bring up the rear. Kevin and his one hundred pound cargo breezed through the trek. He zigged. He zagged. He cut around behind and between, across and back and forth. It was impressive to behold. The kids followed suit like…
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in the meantime
We’re doing a little camping right now (yes, RIGHT now) and I think having computers or internet access in the woods is strictly prohibited by the people who prohibit those kinds of things. Which means I have used some of those handy dandy tricks of modern technology and written this bit of a post pre our departure into the great deep woods. I’m pretty excited to tell you about a few things . . . 1. Our camping adventure. (The one that we are currently on. RIGHT now.) 2. Our motivation behind our most recent camping adventure. 3. Our family’s first-ever foray into group race running. (We entered a 5K…
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date night last night.
Kevin and I try to take a weekly date night. (This wasn’t always true in our marriage so I am exceedingly appreciative of the value we place on these evenings now.) Money and childcare often stand in the way of a leave-the-house date night happening each week. So we also aim to have one really good date night per month. And the plan is that we are in charge of taking turns planning every other month. And last night was Kevin’s planned night. Which found us at a cool little venue downtown watching half of my top two of all-time favorite bands perform. Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls. I’ve…
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the porch.
My family lived in three different houses when I was growing up. The first one I don’t even remember. The second one I loved. It had a long front porch. The third one is where I spent most of my childhood years and all of my teenage years. When we moved in, it had a small front porch. By the time my parents were finished remodeling the old farmhouse, it had a grand front porch that ran the entire length of the house. My mom and dad would sit out there in the early morning together. Then they’d sit out there again in the cool of the evening. A porch…
