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And Also . . . About Commonplace
I just wrote about Chambers and his classic little book My Utmost For His Highest. And the quote I included said, “Some people do a certain thing and the way in which they do it hallows that thing for ever afterwards. It may be the most commonplace thing, but after we have seen them do it, it becomes different.” As soon as I read that, certain people flashed in my mind. Certain people and the way that those people do commonplace things that become different after they do them. (And trust me, when I call something commonplace, I am NOT suggesting it is unimportant. On the contrary. As you know.)…
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Just Now . . .
It may be February – but I am just now putting up my Christmas gift. (And by “I” I actually do not mean me. Because “I” am, uh, horrible at hanging items in a secure fashion. Just ask my husband. Or don’t. Please.) As I was saying . . . the Christmas gift is just now being displayed. Because that’s how we roll. I love this shelf. Love it. It was my Christmas present from Jon. (I was lucky enough for him to draw my name in the Christmas framily exchange.) I love it because Jon made it. (And I love homemade, handcrafted. You know.) And I love it because…
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Sometimes It Looks Like This
Homeschool looks different in every house. (At least, I assume it does. I have not personally been at every homeschool house – right?) Some days it looks pretty normal. And I like that. And there are other days. Days when I like homeschool less because of what my children are learning and more because of how they are learning. And with whom. And, like life, some days get a little rowdy. A little out of control. But I kind of like that too. And finally, there are some moments in some days that just make me laugh.
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Truth Never Changes
Rearranging is fun. When I rearrange I always seem to find some old treasure. Recently it was a book. Oswald Chambers My Utmost For His Highest. One of those classics that you just keep going back to because it always seems to be relevant. (Even though its original publication date was 1935.) The pages of my copy are crumpled, like I spilled something on it. Dozens of corners are turned down. Magic marker, pen, pencil are scrawled on nearly every page. It’s so old my maiden name is written on the cover in bubbly high school penmanship. (It was a gift from my church when I graduated. From high…
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In Search Of . . . Schedule
At our house, in this homeschool, living this life . . . it seems I am always in search of more routine. Some structure. A few seldom-changing, set-almost-in-stone daily-weekly-hourly occurrences. In a word – consistency. I thought I had that down pretty well back when I had just three kids. Riley was being homeschooled. London and Mosely were toddlers. And I was at my planning prime. (I didn’t know it then, however.) Our days were organized. The girls were in a predetermined routine. Riley was a diligent student. Mosely and London had blanket time and crib time and play-alone time. I even had a handy, ultra-organized, color-coded chart hanging…
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Joining Us Already In Progress
Wilder has a new skill. It’s called Balance Standing. (Or something like that.) He pulls to a standing position with the aid of any nearby object – ottoman, stool, leg, whatever. And then he expertly releases his hands from their gripping position. And balances. (Did I mention that he isn’t even officially nine months old yet?) In other Keigley news . . . London has a second loose tooth – center bottom, directly beside the previous loose tooth. Tonight she was playing her current favorite game – “doggies”. (It’s not my current favorite game because of the increased number of holes in the kness of her pants.) At any rate.…
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She’s So Lucky
This happened this afternoon. I don’t have to make this stuff up. (I just have to remember to write it down.) The day was beautiful. Dry. Sunny. Moderate temperature. London, Mosely and Berg were playing outside. I heard crying at the door and went to investigate. The Crying One was London. When I asked her why she was crying, this is what she said . . . “It’s just that Mosely already caught one moth and now she found a worm. And she’s just sooo lucky today and she won’t share any of them!”
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“Look” vs. “Are”
Has anyone ever said to you, “You look pretty today.”? How about “You are pretty.”? Did you notice a difference there? You are pretty. You look pretty. It may just be one verb, but I think its meaning is pretty significant. (Or maybe I just over analyze everything.) Probably. This is what I hear. (And I have been accused of reading too much into things on an occasion or two. Or sixteen hundred.) “You are pretty.” I think the are implies a state of being. A state of permanence. You ARE pretty. It is part of you. You are. You cannot help it. You had little to do with it…
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You Have To See This
We are so crazy-blessed to have many framily and friends who are talented photographers. And I think maybe their lens does an even better job when they are looking at our kids. (Oh, you know I am just kidding. Other people’s kids are cute too.) But anyway, you should really see how cute Piper Finn and Beckett and Otto look here! Man – Emma . . . you rock!
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Unexpected
Kevin had taken Riley, Bergen, Mosely and Piper with him to the store. Fox was asleep. London and I were suddenly alone in our own home. Just the two of us. Unexpected. It was so quiet. And peaceful. And what I really wanted to do was to steal the time. Steal the time for me. I wanted to finish The Red Pony or write down a few ideas. The bedroom was messy. I could take care of that. Call a friend with no interruptions. (Endless possibilities.) London asked me, “Can we play a game?” I looked at that little blond mini-me (sighed mentally inside my head) and reluctantly said, “yes”.…
Keep Reading . . .
parenting reminds me I need Jesus
swimming in the deep end
just recounting a day . . .
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Mosely likes that
We were standing at the checkout counter when Mosely saw it. A sock monkey backpack. She tugged at my sleeve. “Mom – isn’t that so cute?” I agreed that it was. Piper pointed at the backpack with admiration as well. The sock monkey backpack. But it was on someone else’s back. And I tried to help the kids to admire the stranger’s accessory in a less obvious manner. But they are kids, after all. The lady wearing the sock monkey backpack turned around. “Can I give your daughter this backpack?” she asked. I hesitated, surprised. I said no, that wasn’t necessary. But she insisted and eventually I accepted. And now…
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According To Her
I asked, “What did you guys talk about during class today?” London answered: “My friend Isaac said, ‘I have big muscles because I drink a lot of milk.’ Mom can we drink more milk? I showed everyone my muscles and the teacher said, ‘Man, that girl has big muscles’ and I told them it was really because I do pull ups.”
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Purpose
I like to be happy. I don’t like tears. Or trouble. Or heartache. Or sin. Or putting away laundry. I don’t care for difficult circumstances. Hardship. Strain. Damaged relationships. Dirty houses. Dust. I like peace. Tidiness. Sleeping in. Harmony. Recently at my Bible study our group was talking about the sin of unthankfulness. And how we can be so ungrateful for what we have, for what we have been spared. For where we were born. For grace. All of it. Which started a side conversation about being thankful in all circumstances. Seeing the good that God can work from the bad. Embracing the situation for the shaping powers it possesses,…
