Soul Music

I was having an oddly low day today. I really had to struggle to keep positive (or maybe afloat is a more accurate word here) which is unusual for me. I prayed constantly today in the hopes that just by His mere presence God would somehow restore the general sense of peace and joy I daily take for granted.

But apparently it wasn't His Own presence God had in mind to settle my spirit today.

Apparently it was Finny's.

Tuesdays are busy for us right now. Finny has a 10-11am gymnastics class and Punky has a 2-4pm homeschool class at the YMCA which includes swim lessons and alternating gym and art classes each week. Both of these classes are in the next town over from us, a solid 25-30 minute drive from our door to theirs. Thankfully it's just a short season, and both kids seem very blessed by these classes, so it's something we're willing to do... but myohmy, I was not created to be an on-the-go mom! And poor Girly Pie and Goose!

But today we were blessed in that Mary Grace was able to take Punky to the 2pm class with her kiddos, so I was able to drive the kids home after Finny's morning class for a full lunch and everyone but Punky got a decent rest or nap depending on their needs. It was clearly a much needed nap for Goose and for Girly Pie, both of whom were most definitely not going to make it through the rest of the day without it! And though Finny fought the alone time in his room, he did seem to benefit from it.

Oh. And I really enjoyed the quiet time, too.

So when Finny's rest time ended (the story on CD is set on a timer and when it clicks off they know their "rest time" is over and they are free to come out and join me) I was still in my bed finishing up a very nice worship time of music and Bible reading. I was feeling fairly refreshed and mellow, though I admit I was still oddly pensive and a bit gloomy feeling. But instead of both big boys trampling down the stairs to find me catching up on chores or computer time, I just had one quiet boy amble into my room, and together we stumbled into one of the nicest afternoons I've had in a really long time.

He joined my on my bed and I snuggled him up into me. I could smell the dirt in his skin from yesterday's yard play. And the sun was coming into the room just so, lighting up his fair skin and the little blond fuzz on his arms and neck. He was just so snuggly and yielding, which he is at times but not all the time. It was so nice to chat with him without interruption. No baby needing my arms. No toddler bouncing around with funny little antics. No older brother butting into each and every part of the conversation to offer up his own thoughts. Nope. None of that. Just me and my Finny William.

We talked about Easter and Jesus. Usually it's Punky who gets into the deeper theological discussions around here, and Finny is often just left there looking like a much younger child who really doesn't "get it" yet. So I was honestly surprised to hear what a strong grasp he has of Jesus and His sacrifice for us. He seemed perfectly aware of His death and resurrection, and understood why it had to be so. I was surprised by this mostly because Finny currently struggles with some pretty intense fears and sadness over anything remotely close to death or sadness. So to see him so matter of fact about the whole thing was really neat.

And then we talked about how we get to live forever in heaven. And about how in heaven you don't have any pain or fear... and you don't get ear infections (he is currently recovering from one), and you don't need ear tubes in heaven, nor do you need to get your tonsils taken out there (have I mentioned last year's surgery to have his tonsils and adenoids removed and to have ear tubes inserted to help with his chronic ear troubles?). He laughed at that, and was very pleased to realize that in heaven, he could swim or shower and not fear water getting in his ears. My heart hurt to see how simply he accepted how it is here - my strong little boy, already so much more aware of sacrifice and burdens than so many other five year olds. But it was so sweet to really know that someday, if my husband and I do our part well and if Finny stays on this path towards Jesus, he will be in a place free of these burdens of pain and suffering. And it was so fun to dream about that with him. Forever in heaven, always happy, never sad or lonely.

He was smiling the whole time. And I held his hand in mine, cradling it and turning over his little fingers, studying them, memorizing them and their smallness, their softness. The bright sun still lighting up all those blond little fuzzy hairs, the window cracked to let in the sounds of passing trains and breezes flitting through the trees.

The whole time I had my music playing, a little CD my husband put together from me with some of my favorite praise songs and a bunch of other country and oldies songs I like. It was pretty funny when Finny asked me to turn off the music. He said it made him "nervous." I tried to get him to explain to me why it made him feel nervous, and the best he could put to words was that they were all about Jesus and hearing songs about only him just made him feel "nervous." (For the record, they weren't all Christian songs, only a small portion - but it is a mix of music with a lot of heartwarming songs that definitely spark emotions in me.) So I'm not sure my five year old's understanding of the word nervous fits the feeling he was actually having, but I did find it interesting and sweet to see him so aware of the emotions that music brought out in him.

Another striking moment for me was during a snippet of our talk involving guns. We don't allow toy guns in our house and though the boys have small character toys with guns (Lego guys, etc.) they aren't allowed to play with or pretend to have life size guns. I'm just not ready to watch my boys pretend to kill each other. I've heard it may just be inevitable and I'll just need to get over it. But for now... I'm still holding strong!

But... Finny mentioned something about guns and how we don’t have them and how he'd never want toy guns. And it sparked a memory of a story my dad told me from his childhood. It was the first and only time he'd ever gone hunting. He went out in the California desert as a young man (old boy?) with a gun, and he heard a song bird. He saw it far in the distance and just for fun tried to shoot it, figuring it was too far off and he'd miss anyway. Well he hit the bird, and its song died along with it. My dad went home and put the gun away and never picked a gun up again. He was so heartbroken over the life he'd taken - over the contrast of the beauty of the bird's song to the harshness of the gun that killed it - that he just couldn't bear to take another life again.

So as I told this story to Finny, in a more watered down way of course, he turned his head aside and started to cry softly. This is the same boy who so openly accepted Christ's gift of His own life in exchange for our sin... the same boy who had only moments before discussed the beating and the crown of thorns... and yet his heart could not bear the thought of that little song bird dying in the desert, nor the thought of his young Grampa being so sad over the death of that little bird.

It was just such a sweet moment. He was a little sad, but still talking about it, and our talk took a few more twists and turns from there. That little boy has such a soft heart.

Sigh.

Later I brought up a little bag of candy I had and we divided up some pieces to share. He had fun counting them all out and finding patterns and making shapes and letters with them. He loves that kind of thing.

So through the whole time we spent together - maybe an hour total - I just felt so close to him, and so blessed to be his mom, to have him for a son. And I felt so thankful for all of my children. I very much enjoy the time I spend with all four of my kids together, and the times with just a couple of them. But when I really get to have just a little chunk of time like that with just one of them I am always amazed at how much I really enjoy that. It's just a special treat and it's one that I am so grateful to have the opportunity to enjoy now and then. I am so blessed to be a stay at home mom. I have a husband who works so very hard so that I can be home to raise and care for our children! And I get to homeschool. How hard would it be to carve out that special time with my kids if they were gone all day five days a week!? And I have a friend who can make a car trip for me now and then so that I can have just those extra two hours in the afternoon to spend refueling my spirit.

So that was my gift today. I admit that I still struggled to keep positive as the day wore on. There must be something rumbling in my soul that will be revealed later. Or maybe it was just a weird day. But that little snippet of my day really feels like a bright ray of sunshine on an otherwise gray day.

I can still smell his dirty boyish smell. I can still see the translucent look of his skin as the sun shone so brightly on it. Those little peach fuzzies are so clear in my mind's eye. Those hands - so small. That giggle at the thought of an ear infection-free heaven. The quiet tears shed over a little lost life. I think part of what made it so special was that Finny was himself, too. He wasn't frustrated or straining. He wasn't distant and happily floating in his own little Finny World. He was not competing with anyone else, nor was he striving to get my attention. He just had it, and he was happy for it, but not straining. It was just the most natural thing in the world. And sometimes in a house with 6 people, it's a little hard to find completely natural time to just be yourself with someone.

And as an only child, though I rarely get such moments, and really don't even try for them, I really do feel so refreshed when I am gifted with them. I forget how much a part of me that quiet one-on-one time is. It is just music to my soul.

Picture Day

It's been almost two years since I have taken my crew in to get somewhat formal pictures taken. And by somewhat formal, I just mean anyone but my husband or I taking pictures of all four of them together in outfits that are somewhat coordinated.

So today we went to our local Target Portrait Studio with four cute, smiley kids in very darling coordinating orange and white outfits. I have been so excited ever since I booked the appointment. I've never had four children in a photo shoot before! I was actually giddy as I walked into target and saw all of my babies looking so clean and neat and all wearing similar clothes. No one had a jammie shirt on. Not one holey knee. Everyone had recently trimmed hair and they were fairly clean and mostly brushed. I had picked all the boys' jeans out so they were all the right size and no one had hand picked any nice plaid button up shirts to go with their red workout pants and clip-on tie (that would be Finny's favorite NICE outfit. Real nice, huh?). All four of my kids looked absolutely darling.

It was perfect.

So of course it could only go downhill from there, right? I mean, I do have four children, after all. I think it is physically impossible for all four of them to be happy, cooperative and STILL at the same time.

So first there was Little Miss Girly Pie. She was the one I was really excited to get pictures of. For one thing I've never taken her in to get any pictures done before, so firsts are always fun. Plus it's nearing her birthday so I thought these could count as some one year photos. And add to all that I've never gotten to pick a dress or decide on hair accessories for pictures before. That's just a whole new world to a Momma of three boys! So I was just so excited to see my cute, happy baby girl smile for the camera and get some absolutely adorable shots to frame and hang up. I had planned the pictures to be smack between her two naps so she'd be in a great mood. And she was... in the waiting room.

But then we got into the picture-taking room - and the happy, smiley girl was gone. Girly Pie half smiled, barely, for the first two or three shots (group shots as she immediately cried when I tried to put her down alone for the individuals), and proceeded to cry the whole rest of the time if I even tried to peel her an inch or two off of my body. No cute, happy girl standing there beaming. Nope. In fact, it's a good thing I thought to wear a white shirt, because I ended up holding her for most of the pictures. But at least I did get a couple of sweet solemn faces - which look fine in sepia where you can't see the red eyes from her crying.

Sigh.

And then there's Goose, who apparently had to poop, as he was running circles around everyone. Literally. Circles. It was like I had just given the kid a Coke and a candy bar or something. It was pretty great.

And Punky, the first born ham that he is, was being the biggest show off and camera hog I have ever seen! At one point, the lady was just trying to get some candid shots of the kids all looking at Girly Pie (she gave up on trying to get smiles, since GP cried every time she tried to make her look towards the camera! – I even had to sit there with her in my lap because I couldn’t put her down anywhere near the camera lady. Girly Pie was obviously terrified of her.) and there was Punky in the background of everyone, literally standing on one leg and craning all his limbs out and making a super fakey cheesy “Look at me, I’m smiling!” sort of face. It was such an obvious center-of-attention sort of ploy it was almost funny. Almost.

Then there’s Finny. I had to remind him so many times not to scratch his nose (He doesn’t pick it, he just sticks his first two fingers in both nostrils and sort of scratches the whole area there constantly. I’m not sure if it’s a nervous habit or if he really is itchy. Either way – it looks REALLY bad in pictures!) or touch his face or cover anyone else’s face with his hands or the little flower prop we used in an attempt to keep Girly Pie's interest. Really he was the best one. At least he kept a somewhat natural smile on his face, didn’t try to steal the show, and mostly stayed in the same place.

So there you go. My first experience of getting pictures done with four children.

I'll post some of the pictures here when I pick them up in a couple weeks. When all was said and done - though they did not turn out as I had imagined they would - we did end up with some sweet shots of my kiddos.

So really, I guess I can't complain.

Though - I guess it’s no wonder I only take them once every two years. ;o)

It's here!

Take a deep breath...

Do you smell that? That, my friends, is the sweet smell of spring.

I just love spring. The sun is out on a somewhat consistent basis around here (I use the term "consistent" loosely... this is Washington, after all.) and my three growing young boys can really get out and do what their little bodies long for all winter long... They can soak up the chilly spring sun. They can drag 50 pound sacks of play sand to replenish the sandbox for the season. They can clip away at the remnant blackberry vines out front and make a cave to be their fort (for a few months anyway, until they start growing like mad again and become a wild mass of prickers with a promise of future blue-stained faces and batches of jams and cobblers...). They can ride their bikes in the driveway. They can delight in the discovery of a lizard named Alex near our front walk that we released there just before the real cold of winter set in - and find joy in knowing he survived the cold and will likely remain as our wild little pet friend. They can tie together sticks and random garage bits to make eccentric creations used for who-knows-what purpose. They can rediscover bugs - and their mom can realize that it only takes one winter to wipe the memories of bug names from her children's minds (how can one forget the name of rolly-pollies!?). They can play until far after lunch is normally served while Mommy tidies up the oh-so-messy garage a bit. Then they can eat their (late) lunch at the picnic table under the playset in the back yard, dirty hands and all. The swings get swung. The mud gets trampled. The back door rug gets filthy from little shoes stomping in and out through the day. Plants get discovered, buds are noticed. Swamps (or the more P.C. term, wetlands...) are explored and boots are filled with water. There are at least 5 pairs of filthy socks in my laundry tonight... and I only have three walking children! Girly Pie can get her first real taste of spring as an aware little gal. Goose can run around with any random empty container as a hat on his head. There are smiles. There is chasing and Frisbee throwing. Faces are flushed, freckles begin to peep out already. Grass is there to be wrestled in. Brothers are there to entertain, play, plot and chase together.

Yes. Spring is here. And it is good. I do so appreciate the seasons that God made for us. I love when each new season begins, and I am most definitely ready for the ending season to turn over to the next one.

And one more thing that hits me each year as each new season approaches... Last year's spring was the same in many ways, but very different, as well. Life with a growing family of young children really shows you just how much can change in a year.

Sure, the crabapple out back is getting ready to bud out again at the same time it did last year. Yes, the same flowers (at least those that survived out record snows this year) are peeping out their little heads. The world is still very much the same.

But suddenly the one and a half year old baby brother from last spring is now a two and a half year old boy - and he can keep up with much of the play. The large wiggling belly that I was so sure was our fourth baby boy - our expected child whom we had not even met at last spring's beginning... is now a beautiful 10 month old little girl. I will not be bending over any garden beds this summer with a big belly. Instead, I will be mastering the hike hold with my Moby wrap so that Girly Pie can ride on my back in style while I plant a (very) few veggies to enjoy this summer. Last year's four and six year old boys are now five and seven. They have big plans for the warmer weather, and it's clear that they are getting the skills, experiences and knowledge to pull off a lot more exploration and creation this year, and that they will not need nearly as much help from me as I am used to giving.

My family is growing and changing. These little people are in constant motion. Last spring was wonderful. I cherished my fourth pregnancy, I drank up every moment of expectation and anticipation. I loved watching my boys as they explored the world around them.

And I will never get that spring back. Never again will I be largely pregnant with my fourth child while my boys enjoy a spring at 6, 4 and almost 2 years old.

So with that perspective in mind - along with Psalm 118:24's reminder to rejoice in this day that the Lord has made... I intend to make the very most of this spring. Never again will I have 7, 5 and almost 3 year old boys to watch master the outdoors. Never again will Girly Pie discover the yard for the first time. Never again will my baby girl take her first steps and celebrate her first birthday. Heck, I'll never again be twenty-anything come June. ;o)

So today was wonderful. It was so good to just be there, present and watching the bustle around our little corner of the world, so full of life and smiles and happiness and busy-ness and projects and discovering... And it felt so good to know we get a whole season of this ahead of us.

I won't even get into the figurative parallels here with life's changing seasons... but I'm sure you can see that for yourself.

So off I go to sleep off a good day's living. I cannot imagine being more blessed than I am. Thank you Lord, for this beautiful life you have blessed me with. I do not deserve it, and yet I am so grateful and humbled to live it.

A blessed reminder...

While meandering through some new blogs today, I saw a bible verse quoted in one very nice blog. It's a verse I have read before, but it affected me in a new way this time.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Now, let me just say that I do tend to pray almost constantly, and I am one to give thanks in just about every circumstance. I tend to be a the-glass-is-half-full-thanks-to-God kinda gal, anyway. But that first part... "Be joyful always," is the part that struck me this time. I know for a fact that I do not sound joyful when I scold my kids (no matter how gently) for the umpteenth time in a day for not doing what I asked the first time I asked it. I know that if you asked them, they'd tell you I'm a pretty happy lady most of the time. But the Bible says it right there, plain as day. "Be joyful ALWAYS..." No little escape clause about being joyful "most of the time," as far as I can see.

So that is the verse I will be writing out on a note card to hang on my kitchen cupboards when I finish this post. That is the verse I will be memorizing this week (or month, depending on how reliable my Mommy-Brain is at this time...). That is just what I needed to hear.

A full house

Twin babies, twin two-ish year olds, a five year old, twin seven-ish year olds, an almost nine year old and an eleven year old.

That makes nine, in case you were counting.

That was the count of children I had for the day, and will have on and off for the rest of the week while Mary Grace is out of town. All her beautiful children get to come play at our house on the days that their Daddy could not get off of work.

And do you know what? We had a really great day. The only bummer of the whole day was my darling little Goose and his afternoon meltdowns from skipping his nap and then pooping in his pants, which is never a fun thing for anyone involved.

But back to the fun stuff.

Every one played great together. The big kids all did their schoolwork with no grumbling whatsoever. The babies napped well (well, MG's babies did... mine not so well, but it worked out in the end). Meals were simple and the kids helped a lot with setting and clearing the table. Girly Pie and Manolin had a great time crawling and bouncing all over each other, which was really stinking adorable. Oliver and Goose had a gleefully joyous time chasing each other around and whacking one another with half deflated mylar balloons. We made a fun craft with the five-and-overs, and most of them really enjoyed learning the exciting art of finger knitting. We set plans in motion for our big teddy bear party that we'll be doing on Friday when we have them again for the whole day. The kids all got gloriously muddy stomping around in the wet March grass and muck. They all even did a major cleanup before MG's crew left, and the house looks as good as - or possibly even better than- it did when they got here.

So all in all, I think I could do nine kids after all. Not quite sure about the whole twin thing though... Two toddlers and two babies make for very, VERY interesting meal times. As in, I'm still starving. I don't think I ate anywhere near an entire meal all day.

But other than crazy feeding routines, it really was just one of those days filled with happy giggles, creative endeavors, smiling babies and helping hands. This whole big family thing really is a beautiful thing.

Now if only I could convince my hubby of all the beautiful rewards that come with a REALLY full quiver...

Fun... and tasty, too!

I just saw the pictures from our last time doing this little project, and thought it might be a nice thing for anyone to do some rainy or snowy day as true spring approaches, but hasn't quite landed yet...

Here's how you do it: hand the kids a bag or two of marshmallows and a box of toothpicks... and let them go at it.

I usually get a bag each of small and large marshmallows. And I always tell my boys that they can eat a few of them right away. Then I just make sure they know that the main goal is to make things, and not to eat them. They of course do eat a good number of them, but the real fun is in watching them build with the materials.

We've made robots, cars, people... and lots of many legged marshmallow spiders. It's just good, tasty, sticky fun.

Girly Pie isn't sure what she thinks of all this sticky nonsense...

... But Finny sure likes it!

Quality over Quantity

For the first year or two of homeschooling when Punky was a preschooler, I was so focused on doing everything perfectly, and on him doing so much more than was necessary for a 3, 4 or even 5 year old.

In hindsight, I realize that I really needed to relax.

A lot.

Then we hit a major stumbling block in kindergarten when Punky started really balking at any work we did together and was really resistant to doing much of anything I asked of him, both in school time and even occasionally outside of it. Then when he was diagnosed with binocular dysfunction (two healthy eyes, both in perfect working order separately, that do not work well in coordination with one another) two months into his kindergarten career, I was forced to put the brakes on much of what I had set as priorities for our school time.

No more cramming in all of our school work in the hour window of Baby Goose’s morning nap. No more Math U See videos (actually we dropped it MUS all together for Punky – but only partly because of the eye trouble). Minimal computer time. Very short sit down and work periods, interspersed with regular breaks so his eyes could rest. And suddenly, on top of raising three small boys and homeschooling one of them, I now had to work eye exercises into the schedule four times a day for a very resistant little man who really did not want anything to do with any of it.

So we went back to basics and I eased up a ton. I dropped pretty much all bookwork for him and we just hit hard on the fun stuff (lots of books read to him and keeping with his interests more than mine). I knew at the time that it was God’s way of forcing me to slow down and back off with a little boy who was just not ready for a full academic schedule. He is a brilliant child, full of wonder, curiosity, imagination and insight – and I know that down the road he will be an excellent student. But he is just too full of life to sit and do much of anything at this point. And that is OK. There is so much for a little boy to learn that cannot be taught from any sort of workbook.

But now we’re a year and a half down the road and we’ve all learned new study and teaching techniques. We have some good patterns and routines down. Punky now knows how to eek out a couple of worksheets in a day without getting too worked up about it all. In fact he actually likes a few of them. He’s always been a math kid, but now he can do more than just oral problem solving with me – he is happy to work through his Singapore math book with no complaints at all. I don’t think that Punky would claim that much of his school work is his passion, but he does it all with a good attitude and I keep it reasonable enough that he’s not struggling to keep his attention on his work.

This year though, and most especially the last month or two, we’ve been working on a new principal though. Up until now, the goal has just been to get him to do the work, and to do it happily. I had so much backtracking to do to undo all the resistance I had unwittingly put into the child, that I took any piece of work from him as a good and finished product. The end result was a boy who was happy to do the work, but generally did it as quickly as he could with very little effort put into it.

So for now, we talk a lot about how school is his job, and how he should do the work so that he can feel proud of it. I have talked to him a bit about how much time a public school boy in first grade would spend each day writing and doing worksheets. I’ve reasoned that I am happy to give him less work, but that I do expect to see the work he does to be done to the best of his ability. I want to see those letters looking nice. It’s time to undo all the lazy writing habits that I’ve let slide for a while. I may only ask for one page in the math book, but I’d like to be able to see each number written in the book done neatly and well.

I know that he’s still not really passionate about “academic” work, and really at seven years old and still in first grade, I’m still totally fine with that. But I do feel like it’s time to start upping the expectations on the work.

So far it seems to be going well. If he writes his numbers or letters in a way that is clearly below his ability, I simply point it out, or circle it, and he needs to rewrite it properly. He never puts up a fuss about it, so that is good. And if only just for fear of having to write everything over, he is most definitely getting more careful about his numbers and his penmanship.

Now if only I could do a little better in modeling such a work ethic… I definitely tend to go with a “good enough” mentality for much of my work. But as we’ve explained to him with handwriting, we’re allowed to write it sloppily if we want, because we know how to write it nicely when we want to. That seems fair enough to me. And as soon as I see that he CAN do his work neatly and perfectly, I’ll accept a little more slack in areas that do not need such meticulous care. But for now, it’s quality over quantity for my sweet Punky Loo. I myself have a bit too much quantity in much of what I do to make quality the overriding goal in all that I accomplish in a day.

But I do still hope to make learning the fun way be the main goal of our schooling at this stage of the game. Even though Punky can and will do bookwork, I do not want to fall back on it as our main daily routine (easy as it may be...), just because I know that he does not find it satisfying, and I really do want to encourage a love of learning in all of my children.

So it's time yet again to pray and listen, and see what God has in mind for these little people I am blessed to call my children. And while I'm listening for His direction in this area, it can't hurt to make sure Punky's handwriting is neat and tidy. ;o)