I Like Weird People

Some of my favorite people are very weird.

They do weird things. Like bang their heads on the wall
and talk to their food,
or rehearse the same conversation over and over again.

They eat food off the floor,
and pick their noses,
and pee in their pants.

They save candy wrappings for future inventions,
turn their bedroom into pollinator museums,
and pay employees with pennies. Or stickers, or hugs.

They decide to put uncooked spaghetti sticking out of the cooked spaghetti,
one for each year they've lived,
like birthday spaghetti. Then they tell me to put it on Pinterest.

They jump on their beds,
turn sticks into swords,
and talk most of the day in character.

They don't match their clothes,
sing very loud and off key,
and dance ballet in leotards and fairy wings.

Some need help reading.
Some want to read the same book over 28 times in a row.
Some just pretend to read.

They make up spontaneous songs
about strange yet relevant subjects
like dipping chicken into milk.

Most of the weird people I like are children.
But sometimes I wish grown-ups weren't so scared of being weird, just like them.
I'd like that.

Cause I like weird people.

Monsters 'n Things

So, the subject of monsters came up today. Not in a scared way but because someone had remembered a picture of a monster eating ice cream. (By Sheri So, our favorite artist!)

Instantly, an art project idea was conceived. It sounds simple, I know... but as simple as it is, how many times do we do it?

Here were the rules:

1) Draw your own made-up monster, any way you want it.
2) First use printer paper with colored pencils to doodle and experiment.
3) When you know what you want, you can draw it on card stock in mom's markers (you know it's really special when you get to draw with mom's stuff!)
4) This one is for mom- no opinions. Unless, of course, your opinion is that your child's work is ingenious and you wouldn't change a thing.

I started by showing a few examples of what a monster could be, just to get them thinking. I could be a blob or a dragon- like monster. It could have funky hair or it could have scales or be fuzzy....

 

As they were drawing, I listened to them talk about their pictures. I realized that there was much more going on in their minds than what we see on paper. So I decided that I would have them explain the pictures and I would write it on the back of the paper.

This is a daddy dinosaur. He's picking up sand and putting it all over his head. Then he gets stuck in the mud.

A little dragon's dad is flying around one sunny day and finds a fire ruby (reference from My Little Pony) that has already been toasted. He gives it to the daughter. She eats it up and says, "thank you".

The man is handing diamonds to the monster because monsters love diamonds. It was roasted already because the man knows that monsters love diamonds that are hot. After he eats his snack he flies away. The monster is licking his lips because he know it's hot.

The baby monster is in a boat and blowing fire to bake cookies being held by a robot arm. There is a ball in the water. The one on the diving board was supposed to put soap in the river for a bath, but he fell asleep. The mom is blowing fire on the birds. She is holding a bowl. The bird will fall into the bowl and then they could eat it.

This one is hungry and he sees food.

 

I just like this one. No caption, though.

 

This was Max's. He was so excited to draw... I'm guessing because of the excitement from his sisters. He scribbled something for two minutes (or less) and proudly brought it over to me and laughed his head off.

 

 

Oh yeah. Moms and Dads, you've got to do one too! Don't worry- your kids will think it is fantastic no matter how artistic you are. This monster has a pouch with a zipper on it. He was taking a walk and found a gigantic ice cream cone on the sidewalk. The baby's hand is sticking out of his pouch and reaching for the ice cream.

While I was uploading the pictures, I searched articles about sparking creativity in children. I found this one and this one. 

 

What I gathered from these articles is that there should be times that parents give limited instructions about things like toys and crafts so that the children have room for their own ideas. In addition, children are encouraged to share the wonder of science and nature with parents that express interest in such things. For the most part, I appreciate the information in these articles.

 

I am wary of one suggestion to not give instructions or to make up new instructions on board games. I think that there are plenty of opportunities to foster creativity, but there is a time to follow instructions as well, so I guess it depends on the situation. I am finding that De Bono's book, Teach your Child How to Think, is helpful in learning different kinds of thinking. His example of six different hats, one being creative thinking and another being factual thinking, is easy for the children to understand.

 

In my experience, these are a few things that have fostered a creative spirit in my children:

 

Encouraging free time without electronics

 

Willingness to try something without knowing for sure how it will end up- recipes, crafts, science experiments, for example.

 

Allowing messes, within reason, if they are for building good thinking skills.

 

Enjoying differences in my children's thinking, and taking the perspective that no one is the smartest, but each has their own strengths and their own way of working things out.

 

Knowing their abilities and give them the freedom of some responsibility without constantly checking on them.

 

Kids create an environment where the parent can be silly and creative and terrific all at once. I love to take advantage of the opportunity to let my gaurd down and just have fun with it.

 

 

 

 

Later, in the absolutely fabulous weather that we had this evening, I heard them in the back yard. They had put a plastic football on the end of the shovel handle and jumped on the shovel, catapulting the ball into the air. Then, they would laugh hysterically and someone else would take their turn. Oh my goodness... it was a riot. 

Drawing monsters or catapulting footballs. I have the best job in the world.

Individual

I heard someone recently say that we need to know the meaning of our names, because our names are not accidents. This does not surprise me because name choosing seems sacred or spiritual to me. God made us.... maybe he chose our names, too like others we read about in the Bible.

I looked mine up in several different places. You know, after years of trying to fit in and hundreds of failed expectations and so much confusion about what we are and why we are here, this exercise might teach you something about yourself... assuming we are on the same page:)

Wendi:

This one I've never seen before: light skinned. It gave me chills because I am the light skinned one in our family.

The typical answer: wanderer. I've never connected with this before, but now that I am trying to find meaning to my name, I get it. First of all my mind wanders constantly. Some people call this a disorder. I'd like to think it's my own beautiful mind. Not the smartest or most efficient, but it's mine.

One meaning of the word "wanderer" is: to move about in an irregular course; meander. I just have my own way. A little slower but oh, so meaningful. I may see things others don't. I may take on a different perspective, but it is not necessarily wrong. I was born a wanderer. This is how I am supposed to be!

And finally: friend. I gather that this is a literary meaning from Peter Pan. This tells me something of a calling, because I wouldn't say that friendship is my best quality. However, it's a challenge I'm willing to accept.
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We have done similar exercises with my children as well. I want them to know themselves and appreciate what they are, not based on fitting in, but based on their beautiful uniquenesses.
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As for my husband, Sook, the words I've found are "rock", "light" (this is actually for a Korean girl's name), and he reports that his name is "cooked" or "mature". This has changed how I view him as well.... mature and rock. Someone trustworthy and able.

I must say this again, MY husband is trustworthy and able. Add to that God's wisdom and strength, and I've got it pretty darn good!

Next week I'll be 35. It has taken this long to understand that God didn't mess up when He made me. And I have a feeling that this will change some things in my life. Taking seriously the things I enjoy. Rejecting criticism. Loving a God who looks at me and loves me for being me.

But I also am more determined to assist my children in finding the picture that God sees in them. I hope it won't take 35 years to see the joy in it.

Max's Prayer

Dear Heavenwy Father,

Thank you for Max
and Bear
and Sanna
and Summer
and Bookie
and Mommy
and Daddy
and Ami
and Mawia
and Methu
and Pathu
and Uncle Joew
and Aunt Joll
and Gandma
and Gampa
and Ewie
and Uncle Ryan
and Aunt Sanna
and Baby Wuke
and wegos
and John Deere
and Evan
and Kawee
and Carowine
and Jesus, Amen.


Oh,oh, oh....and Uncle Gib.
Amen.

Just a Few Moments

Whenever I am in a public arena and someone finds out that I homeschool, they often ask, "how does that work?"

I hate that question, because I don't know the answer. First of all, I'm not sure what they are wanting to know. Are they asking, "How do you stay sane?" or "How are you smart enough to teach several grades and subjects?" or most likely, "How are you sure that your children are learning as much as those in real schools." Oh, and of course, "How do your kids get a social life." (eye roll)

Secondly, I change "How it works" so often I don't have a one minute summary to share. Life changes fast, and school must fit in somehow.

And finally, I can't explain how it is so different than "classroom" learning so most of those accustomed to a school setting won't wrap their brain around where mine is coming from in our short conversation.

Since I'm much better at writing than a face to face conversation, here might be my answer:

I have a curriculum, but sometimes we get way off track because our lives find incredibly interesting subjects that we love- and we learn better when we love it.


I have a plan that usually changes by the hour.


The "school hours" are shorter but the learning lasts all day.


The school year doesn't end, but the structure changes according to how nice it is outside.

I am aware of state standards, but mostly try to forget them.


I am grossly under qualified in credentials, I am vastly over qualified in investment.


If I would happen to put one of my children in a public school, I have no idea whether they would be ahead or behind the class. I wish not to compare, and I wish not to tempt myself to worry about it. I know my kids are smart. I believe all kids are smart in one way or another. As for classroom smart, I don't know. But I guarantee they are learning.


I am all too often influenced by a small voice in the back of my head..."are we doing enough of this- or that..." And if I get too obsessed by that voice, that is when it is hard.


We learn best in a relaxed, go- with- the- flow organization.


My goal is for them to know how to learn. Then they will be able to learn whatever is necessary at whichever time in their life.


As for me, most people assume I am super organized. On the contrary....not at all. However, I am creative and I can sneak learning in almost any situation.

And I am assuming that any other homeschool mom you ask will not have the same answer as I would. Maybe similar- but somewhat different. We are not clones. There are many ways to learn.

This morning I was personally in turmoil over something unrelated to school. Brooke and Max were pleasantly playing together. I gave Savannah and Summer instructions to copy four of their reading sentences. They replied, "can we do more if we want to?" Both of them.

They sat down at the table and worked quietly. I had a few moments. And it hit me, all was good.

When I was younger, we had a small, clear cube. Inside that cube was a plastic square with a small indention in the middle. On top of the plastic was a small metal ball that seemed to be forever rolling. The goal was to direct that ball to sit in the indention. It looked easy, but it certainly was not. I remember tensing up, intently focused to getting that ball to it's sitting position...but many times it kept rolling and rolling.

This morning, for those few moments, I sat on the couch and just took it all in. The ball was still. It was beautiful. I wish I could have bottled up whatever it took to make everything work together, for it is rare.

But even in the tense times when the ball won't seem to stay still, so much good is happening. I cannot speak for anyone else, but my family was made for this.

Today I am thankful for:
1. My kids can cook.
2. A little boy, Max.
3. A roof over my head.

Pluttifikation

"I have got along just fine without any pluttifikation tables for nine years." - Pippi Longstocking

Summer appears to not listen- even to Pippi Longstocking. But when I printed out these adorable multiplication tables today, she said, "What's this? Pluttifikation?"


On the contrary, Pippi. Summer sighs and moans at the pluttifikation tables, but is a whiz at every day cooking and counting and organizing kind of math. It's amazing she really likes school when presented in her very unique learning style.

I. Love. Homeschooling.

My Guy

It was a day of mixed emotions, jumbled up plans, disorganization, and unrest. After lunch I decided continuing in this manner just won't do, so I put on a movie, went to my room, and shut the door.

Some days are just like that.

I wasn't sure if I would take a power nap or pray or just think. I started to doze after ten minutes or so when Max opened the door and let himself in.

"Mommy?" He interrupted politely. "I want a kiss."
"O.K. Max."
After receiving permission, he flashed a huge smile and ran over to my beside. *kiss*
"You go to sleep. O.K. Mommy?"
"O.K."

He ran to the door and shut it behind him. One half second later he opened it.
"Mommy? I want a hug."
"O.K. Max."
He ran over again. *hug*.
I gave him another kiss on the cheek.
"No, Mommy. You already kiss me."
"O.K. Max."
"Mommy, you go to sleep."
"O.K."
He ran back to the door and shut it. And opened it.


"Mommy? I sleep with you?"
"O.K. Max." I giggle.
"Move. I sleep on pillow."
"Max! This is my pillow. What am I going to use?"
He ran to his room and brought his pillow. "You use that one." I obliged.
He laid down and pretended to sleep.
I did the same thing.
"No! You can't smile." He didn't like my fake sleeping.

Then he put my face in his hands, tilted my head back, and looked up my nose.
"No boogers." he reported.

He got out of bed and picked up my journal.
"Here your facebook".
"Thank you."

He ran to his room and brought his favorite book, "Away in the Manger".
"You read my facebook".

So I did. About ten times.

Sometimes I wonder why I was ever upset or nervous about having a fourth child. I just can't imagine life any other way.

Strange Sight

When Sook and I first met, I noticed stares. I don't know if it was my imagination or if there was something that interesting about us. Like that we were so good looking.......or we didn't share the same skin color. Probably the latter. (My husband would say the former. Fruitcake.)

I don't notice stares anymore. Maybe I don't because there aren't any- or maybe I just don't care .

Sometimes I forget I'm in the middle of a mixed marriage. I've become the minority in my house with my blue eyes and light brown hair, but I truly don't see it. And though I marvel at my children's cute chubby cheeks and Asian eyes, I see something else much more important. I can't see it with my eyes, but it's there. I see their spirit. I see sweetness, spunkiness, curiosity, and compassion.

Something happens when you get to know and love a person so well. The lens of vision focuses on a part you cannot see. The other is still there, it's just a little blurred.

That is how God see me. He looks past my glasses and split ends. He is blind to my scattered brain. He does not define me based on my cooking or driving skills. He doesn't even think less of me when I am a horrible brat. Because He has paid for my sins and shortcomings, I look to Him as if sin had no effect. He sees me as I was made to be. Beautiful and successful, just like all of us humans. I receive that. I love that. I love God for that, because I know how I look otherwise.

But what I have seen now is astonishing. God is showing me how He sees others, too. How He sees the children in the foster care system at my work, with all the potential in the world. How He sees bullies, filled with His compassion. How He sees my sister without Fragile X. Intelligent and stunning. How He looks past all of our insecurities and absurd behavior. They are still there. But they are not who we are.

Race, disease, mistakes, popularity, status, and flaws do not define those who choose to take on the image of Christ. We can reject the negative definitions people put on us, and embrace the lovely, kind, true, and noble.

What would our world look like if we saw each other this way, and treated each other accordingly?

My Early Christmans Present

There are two kind of people in this world...

givers and takers.

Givers love to give, not acknowledging a loss. Not acknowledging their holiness. Not acknowledging anything- except maybe the need and the joy of obedience.

Not to say that givers don't get. They don't take. They receive. They have to because you can't give with joy until you learn that there is more where that came from.

Takers have excuses. They compare. They fear. And, if I am correct, they are the victims of their own doubt tinted glasses. Takers are lacking in joy.

In my innocence, I think I was a giver in my younger days. But then I gained responsibility, drew up a limited budget, and I held on tight to what I had, all in the name of gain. It didn't work. It didn't produce joy. I wouldn't necessarily say I was greedy or a thief, I was just fearful. I was fearful of being poor. Lack of money is a terrible thought, especially if you have experienced it. I was fearful of what my husband would say. I was fearful of what others would think. And I hated it.

So I started planting. I started giving above tithe- a dollar here or there, then ten or twenty, and giving started to grow, fear started to fade. Joy began to bloom.

Last week I shyly asked my husband for a gift. He makes the money. We are a team. I needed his blessing. I was almost certain of what he would say. And it appeared that I was right. So I worked up the words to ask again, hoping to be more persuasive. His response was more than I could have asked for.

This is my present:

My sponsored child, whom we have both fallen in love with. Both of us. There was nothing to fear. And the joy we have, knowing a small portion of our budget can make the world of difference for someone else. Someone we consider part of our family in a matter of a week.

The best part, though, is my dear friend is going to Ethiopia to give her a hug for us! I feel already as though we have received much more than we have given. A void has been filled. And I believe that we have only begun this journey of being givers.

If you are interested in sponsoring a child, click here for more information. And here for other ways to help these children.

Or help in your community, or in Asia, or India, or Mexico....wherever you are led, whatever you can give. It gives a whole new meaning to Christmas!

Favorite

I was just scrolling through my blog and realized that I've been talking a lot about Summer lately.

You would think she is my favorite.

Well, she is.

She is my favorite to go shopping with. She is my favorite to get hugs from. To kiss on the cheek, to cook with, and to dress up real pretty.

But then there's Max, my baby boy. He's my favorite, too. I mean, he's my baby! And he's a boy! He loves to cuddle while watching music videos. He is very opinionated, which is stinkin' cute for a two year old. He really loves having me around. He steals my heart.

Who can top your first-born, though? Savannah is definitely my favorite. Her mind is always churning, thinking of how she will do everything. She wants to learn- we learn together! We are a great team. I could not home school without her. She is a self learner and is turning out to be a great teacher as well. I dread the day she will grow up and leave me.

My heart aches for my niece, Ellie. I long for the day that I can be only 10 minutes away from her instead of 2.5 hours. She remembers everything! She loves to serve, and she remembers the important details for each individual. It's so fun to see her take all her random thoughts and put them together into a meaningful conclusion. Watching her grow is exciting for me. She is my favorite.

However, my life would not be complete without my Brookie Boo. She is the one who cuddles up so nicely on the couch each morning. She gets my day started with her reports about which of her songs were played on Klove during the night. She is off the wall spunk that might just annoy some people. But I am her mother so I find it pure joy. I cherish the look on her face when I say, "Brooke, you are my favorite."

When I consider how much I love each of my children, I am aware that they are not special. Each child is so unique and beautiful. They are treasures, that when allowed, will bless all kinds of different hearts. But it must be allowed and reflected back in order for them to know this about themselves.

I once heard it said that when an adult encounters a child, the child needs to see that adult face light up. Yet it is so easy for me appear unaffected at times. How do my children and other children see themselves through me?

And how often I need to be reminded that we are God's children. Even the people that tick me off, annoy me or hurt me. They are their Father's favorite. You are His favorite. Everyone has value, but it is sometimes hard to see if they are not treated valued. What a tragedy for them not to know. What a crime it is when I make other's feel worthless.

During my oxymoron struggle between mercy and prophesy, love and judgement, I see that people may once and a while be open to loving correction, but judgement mostly turns people away. This is especially true since I am far from perfect myself. An attitude of love, mercy, and grace is the best way to positively influence people- my children, other children, annoying co-workers, and discouraged friends. For they are all God's favorite.

Summer Love

Summer, my middle daughter, reluctantly complied with my direction to work on her English.

"I think I have to memorize something next." she grumbled. "I hate to memorize.
"Well, you are not going to make a very good movie star if you can't memorize." I responded.

"Wait. You thought that I am going to be a movie star?"
"Well, I thought so until now when you told me that you don't like to memorize."

She paused, twirled around a few times, and said, "I guess that sounds like fun." and walked off to work on her English.

********************************************************

It was her turn to go to the store with me. After a year and a half of construction, we are now privilaged to go to the grocery store via the new overpass. This is not just any overpass, though. It has colorful lights that change colors every few seconds. Red, Purple, Blue, Green. It reminds me of the horse on The Wizard of Oz.

But to Summer, it is magical. That trip across the highway was like a magic flying carriage with white flying horses surrounded by ever changing colors. Even though the actual trip only takes a few seconds, time seems to go in slow motion amidst the awe of the experience. Could anything be more beautiful? I know, because I saw it in her imagination, through her huge brown wondering eyes. Oh, the thrill of going over that overpass.

****************************************************

Turning into our subdivision, I said, "Summer, I like you."

"You tell me that all the time", she answered.

"Are you tired of hearing it?"

"No, I am not."

*****************************************************

She knows life is cruel. She gets her tender heart broken. She doesn't always get her way. And she still has to do school (which she says she doesn't like but I think she might be fibbing a little). And sometimes she has quite a temper.

But there is a huge burst of pure joy in that soul. I am so thankful for my Summer.

Characters

As I paint my kitchen cabinets, I chuckle. I could never make money doing this sort of thing because I mess up and then like it. It's character.

Chipped paint.
Worn hard wood floors.
Dingy fabrics.
Dusty books.
Obvious brush strokes.
Real. Usable. Personable.

I love imperfection. If that is what you call it. Perhaps it's actually perfection.

My body also has character. Scars, laugh lines (or mad lines), worn hands, evidence of childbearing. Clothing might accentuate individual beauty, but cannot take the place of it. Everyone has something beautiful to bless the world with. Living artwork.

Grey hairs.
Colorful eyes.
Freckles.
Dirty smiles.
Proper salutations.
Gut wrenching sobs.
Priceless expressions.
Real. Usable. Personable.

Have you ever envied wrinkles? I have.

But there is something to be seen that cannot be seen with a glance of the eye. Something that could never be faked. It is only produced when pushed, beaten, broken, swept away, restored, failed, renewed, chipped, scraped, pulled, tattered, stained, and washed. That is the most beautiful character of all. It can make the ugliest specimen breathtaking.

Hope.
Joy.
Love.
Wisdom.
Gentleness.
Inspiration.
Real. Usable. Personable.

I hope my children grow up to be characters. I mean that.

How do you make characters? I'm pretty sure the best way is to fill them with God-inspired expectation. Big dreams, big responsibilities, big results and cheer lead to the very end. Life will then do the rest.

Is This Sad?

So, Have you heard the news? Of course you have. The Duggar's are expecting their 20th child.

I have not watched a second of the show, so I have no opinion about it. What I do know is: (1) that they had a miscarriage early in life and then decided to let God decide how many they should have. (2)Their oldest has already started a family, stating that he also is willing to let God decide how many, and even though I sincerely hope he consulted with his wife on that, he must not have thought his experience was all that bad. (3)The dad's name is Jim Bob. (4) A woman at my work "ran into" the Duggar's twice, in two different locations. She said each time they stopped to talk and take pictures. She said they were great, if two-five minute encounters mean anything (5) They are "excited" about their news. Hey! They wanted this person in their life! (6)Several people have made them out to be evil for one reason or another. But today, the comment that really got me was "it's so sad that the older children have to raise the younger ones.

Really?

Those poor Duggar children that live in a home where they are loved and provided for. This is sad to you? Because what is sad to me is the millions of children that are not wanted. What is sad to me is the scared to death pregnant teenager that has no one to turn to. Or children whose parents have both died from AIDS, knowing they are soon to follow. The ones that are 6 years old and weight 10 pounds because there is no food. That is sad. The beautiful children that have parents, but had to be given up because they could not provide for them. Can you imagine? The landscape of children digging through a dump to find a bit of food, feet bleeding from the lack of shoes. Are you sad yet? What about the welfare children that are neglected and abused, sometimes to the point of death. Must I go on?

Do you think that any of these children I just mentioned wouldn't dream of living in a home like the Duggar's?

I do not think that everyone should forget any form of birth control and have 20 kids. However, I do think God does lead some people to do this, and they should listen. Before I even heard about the Duggar's, one month after I was married, God told me the same thing.

Yet, I had my tubes tied. I was so tired, I had lost hope, and I was listening to all the wrong people. Again, I am not saying there is anything wrong with preventing pregnancy. I am saying, I know I disobeyed God. And I am heartbroken.

Because even when I want to pull my hair out and wish that I could just process one thought, even when I lose it and scream like a lunatic, I would love four more.

I believe that God is not mad at me, and he heals and restores. His plan for my life has not stopped in it's tracks.

I also believe that Jesus loves all the little children of the world, and millions of his children are not experiencing it. This Duggar family, however, is not in that category.

Introvertism

Introvertism....(spell check says it isn't a word.)  It very well describes me.

I wonder why. Was it how I was made? Was it due to my upbringing? I'm sure the experts would say a little of both.

I want to share something with the world, I just don't want to put it all out there. I love people- the real people especially. The ones that can laugh at themselves and admit they are not perfect. The ones that make decisions NOT based on what everyone else might think.

The problem is that I've met plenty that chose to inflict their opinion on me, so forgive me for keeping to myself.  I have my quirks. I feel uneasy around perfect hair or houses decorated to match couch cushions and curtains.

If you'd like to come over and criticize my decor, fine. I just won't invite you again.

I love ugly sweaters. Especially used ones.

Old furniture with a few nicks and chips on the paint. Priceless.

People- especially children- that innocently express their uniquenesses.
*********

I used to think introvertism was bad. (I have a secret...now I like it.) I like being influenced by those I choose. I like my deep thoughts. I love quiet. I don't mind being different. I'm so thankful I don't have to fit into anyone else's box.

But continue to be frustrated by those that insist on it.

Or those that think it is a disease.

Here's another secret. I've always wanted to be old so I could be free to act a little crazy and wear hats all the time. (Now I've realized that what I thought was old really isn't very old and I'd have to wait way too long for that so....34 is the new old.)

I'm the crazy charismatic Mennonite born again Christian that homeschools her kids and wears sweater dresses over her jeans. My kids and I have a blast at Goodwill. And we make our own soap. I'm not such a great homemaker...I'd rather be painting or going for a walk in a forest somewhere. I can be very logical but I'd rather not. God doesn't always work logically, and can't always work through logic.

I go wild over praying mantises and spider webs.

I absolutely love children's art.

Another secret... one reason why I love to be around children is because I can act crazy and they love it. Why do I keep making excuses to live like I have a few loose screws?

Can I shout this from the hills? There is much more to a person than what we see. I think the best way to crush a little introvert's spirit is say, "He's just so quiet and shy." And just leave it at that. Just look and make a conclusion. Introverted children need someone to dig and prod until something comes out, and then for that someone to celebrate what they have found.

For me, I can deal with introvertism ignorance. For a child, they will just think something is wrong with them. At least that was my experience.

Ask a few more questions.

Embrace quirkiness.

Understand them.

Celebrate them.

And this could change one's perspective about their value.

Names

Our cirriculum gave me the task of writing a letter to each of my children about their names. I thought about that for a while... My pastor growing up at Ebenfeld is so creative and makes baby dedications very special by researching name meanings and giving a bible verse based on the names. Ellie was dedicated at this church and still loves to read the print out given to her at her dedication.

I did some searches online but my children's name meanings are fairly straightforward- Savannah, Summer, Brooke...I love nature. I saw one person asked about a christian meaning of Savannah and the responses were sarcastic- "It's not a biblical name! Purely geographical." I wasn't satisfied. So I thought looking at this from a different angle? What is a savanna? What is summer? What is a brook? What to they provide? Why are they necessary? What drew me to these names?

This is what I came up with:

Dear Savannah,

      You are a blessing to us! You sere a very tiny baby when you were born. The nurse at the hospital said you had a very big name for such a tiny baby!
      Before you were born, we had to decide on a name. I have always liked Anna, which is the name of your great-great grandmother. Your daddy's name is Souksavay. I thought that I would take the first part of Savay and Anna which makes Savannah. Savannah in Laos means "rice field". Savan means "heaven".
     Your daddy chose Davone as your middle name because he thought Savannah Davone sounded like a movie star's name. Davone is a beautiful name that is common in Laos.
     As you know, a savanna is a treeless plain, which is a home for many animals. The savanna has grass for food and shelter, and large spaces for the cheetah to run fast. (Cheetahs are Savannah's favorite animal) You also can provide many good things to people and you don't need to worry. God will always help you! I can't wait to see how you will bless other people!

Matthew 6:25-34
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Dear Summer,

     The day you were born, my friends Karlye and Michelle were with me in the operating room. They were great friends and helped me so much that day. After you were delivered, they went with the nurse to clean you up. the nurse asked what your name was and Michelle said "Hannah".
     But that wasn't your name!! Your name is Summer. I named you that because I thought it was a fun name and I had a hunch you would be fun... and I was right!
     Daddy chose your middle name to be Maleena, which is a beautiful name from Laos.
     Summertime is warm and sunny, and it is a time to play, swim, catch fireflies, als watch the flowers bloom. You can also be warm and loving to other people, making their day happier. God gives you the love and joy to make you happy, and even gives you enough to give to others as well! You are a blessing to us and we love you so much!

Galations 5:22-26
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Dear Brooke,

      Before you were born, I dreamed of having a little girl named Brooke. A few minutes after you were born, I knew how special you were becasue yo quietly turned your head around, listening to the voices in the room. I could tell you were wanting to know what people were saying.
      Your heart is so tender and special because you care about other people. You ask great questions and are fun to talk to.
     Daddy named you Alysone becuse it is a Lao name but also an American name.
     Brooke means "sophisticated" and also a stream of running water. Animals love to be near a stream becuse it is cool and refreshing. Plants need water, so they love to be near a brook as well. People love to sit by a brook because it makes a lovely, calming sound. Your giving, helping, and beautiful sounds of talking and singing blesses people around you. We love you so much!

Psalm 150
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Spreading The Love

I currently have four girls in the house- 5,6,7, and 8. One word. Drama.

This morning after an epic showdown, Savannah and I had a discussions about self control. She asked, " WHY do I always make the bad choice?"

So we talked about what we could do when we start to get angry.
1. Recognize that Satan wants you to get angry and hit. Don't listen to him.

2. God is love. Say it over and over until you can be like God, use his love to love instead of hurt.

After lunch, I sent Savannah downstairs to fold laundry because she needed to separate herself from everyone again. She reacted in anger at first, but when I went down the stairs I saw a pillowcase with something in it and a note.

"Dear whoever saw this note,

Open the present behind me. If it is a basketball, play with it in the park.

Love you, From Savannah."

It made me smile.

One angry response seems to upset the whole house...maybe one loving response can repair it?

That's what we are working on today.

Happiness Is...

As parents, we are here for them and not them for us.

However, when we take our jobs seriously it seems to come back in immeasurable amounts of blessings.

Thankfully for me, it doesn't take a perfect parent. Just a parent that can sit and take in the magic of children.

Happiness is the smile on Sook's face each time I've announced we were expecting, no matter what our circumstances were.

I took the children to Half Price Books today. On the way, I announced, "I have sixteen dollars. What is sixteen divided by four?" Max repeated me, "Four!"

Happiness is listening to the cheers and laughter from my children as they commented on how smart their little brother is.

Happiness is persistent requests for praise music.

Happiness is solitaire smack talk.

Happiness is picking an impossible amount of weeds with my husband while the children run around in their swimsuits.

Happiness is a big sister posing for her little brother that insists on taking pictures.

Happiness is a cool summer night with nothing on my mind but picking clover out of my lawn.

Happiness is the messed up face Max was making while he ran up to me and said, "eeeeeeeh stinky"

Happiness is peek-a-boo while changing his diaper, and the ironic disappointment when he realized that his pink Dora pull ups were all used up.

Happiness is my two year old pushing around his Hot Wheels because his legs are just shy of pushing pedals.

Happiness is the smile on my middle daughter's face knowing she can keep up with her older sister.

Happiness is the make believe world where my children pick apart plants and leave them on the sidewalk so the birds can make mushroom soup.

Happiness it the ambition to make a pile all the way to Jupiter.

Happiness is being awarded a huge invisible candy trophy because they both were the best cowgirl princesses in the bike race.

Happiness is being offered a piece.

Happiness is wearing dress up clothes to bed.

And the quiteness just after bedtime.

Beautiful - MercyMe

I wish I knew how to tell my beautiful girls just how much they are treasured, because this has been a challenge lately. The last thing I want for them is to hate themselves as I once hated me.

Everyone is beautifully made. Everyone is their individual incredible creation.

YOU are so beautiful and no scar can take one ounce of your beauty away.

No judgement against you can take it away,
No opinion can take it away,
No abuse can take it away,
Not even you can take it away. You are beautiful, and you need to live with that fact.

Anything else is a lie.

sugar, sugar

sugar, sugar


Have you played this game on Hooda Math?


Summer found it. The title drew her in.


As I watch my kids play, I get nervous because many times I would do it differently. They don't figure out problems the way I think it is most logical.

Many times they work it out their own way... in a way I woulda never thought of.


Just another life lesson to ponder.

Super Powers

One morning as the girls were waking up, Summer was laughing at Brooke and said, "She sleeps with her eyes open!" Knowing that Summer was not making fun of Brooke but amused that she had appeared to have slept with her eyes open, I made an attempt to avoid Brooke's feelings from being hurt.

"Wow! That's her super power! Brooke, I didn't know you could sleep with your eyes open!" Brooke sat straight up, wide-eyed and exclaimed, "And guess what! When my eyes are open I can see!" I nodded, not wanting to break it to her that that was the whole point of having eyes.

This got me thinking about hidden super powers. It has occurred to me that when someone is still young, his or her gifts seem strange. However, if they can put them to good use they are powerful!

I have very few things in life that are glaring talents. I used to be ashamed of this but now I am thankful. "For when I am weak, He is strong". God picks up the slack when I can't- and he's much better at everything. Being weak makes it much easier to stop trying things on my own.

However, I do have some hidden talents that are very helpful when it comes to mothering. If you were to see me on the street or in the grocery store (where I spend a lot of time) you might think I am frumpy and clueless since, if you would actually take the time to watch, I visit the dairy section three or four times in a trip. Little would you know the treasures I possess underneath this facade.

• I can put my lipstick on without looking in a mirror. I developed this talent while driving to my high school and studying for my vocabulary test. I do not do it while driving anymore, but it is useful none the less.

• I can fix almost anything that is useless. Especially toys that really should be thrown away, like the one from McDonald's. Even though some people might think this is a waste of time, my kids find it to be a valuable asset.

• I have selective hearing. I am sure my teachers in school were not amused by this, however, this is almost essential for mothering. I tune out loud chatter but stop and pay attention when the cell phone beeps. I can tune out happy play laughter, but recognize any of my children's cries, what kind of cries, and know which is a call for immediate attention. I know the difference between a pretend play "mommy" and an attention-seeking "mommy".  I also wake up to the slightest noise my children make.

• I can improvise. This is key to my survival. It may be a missing lunch ingredient, a game piece, lyrics I cannot remember, or making up a rhyme on the spot. Maybe as a child I didn't use this honestly, but I did get some practice and now use it for the good.

• I want to know how everything works. I might even break something in order to figure it out! Thankfully, my curiosity has encouraged my children to blossom. You can imagine all kinds of trouble a child can get into with a head full of curious questions but when Mama is the curious one, there is a lot of learning going on.

• And finally (I'm still working on developing this one) I am usually okay with being weird. The attitude makes all the difference.

Now you know my secret.

My kids have them, too.

One of them has the gift of a sweet tooth. I believe she will use it well in the future. A few days ago, we looked at a few pics from the Royal Wedding. One was of some guy being arrested for trying to sneak in. She studied the picture carefully and said, " Maybe he wanted a piece of cake." as serious as can be. Sugar is always on her mind.

Another has the powers of nerdiness. We get so excited about algebra around here- as well as science experiments, Roman numerals, and Suduko. A homeschooling mom's dream.

One has the precious gift of seeing everything from a different angle, adding sweet perspective. Just the other day she asked me, "How do you know if you are going to have a girl or a boy?" I proceded to tell her about the obvious differences between a baby girl and boy. She thought about it for a while. "Mama?" said finally said, "Did you say vagina?"

"Yep."

"Wow. That's a beautiful word." and then she left to go play.

I will wrap up my thoughts by saying the obvious. Some may never know their super powers because they are ashamed to let them shine. What are yours? Let 'em shine!