Second week of school

The audience for Ada's first-ever poem recitation:

It's an appreciative crowd.

The janitorial crew:

The class hard at work:

Notice the new black eye.  He likes to live life to the full.

A science experiment to determine how straws work (it has to do with unequal pressure):

Wedding bells

Jason's beautiful sister was married this past weekend.  We're still recovering, as our whole family was in the wedding.

The girls, in new dresses, ready to go to the wedding rehearsal.

Two flower girls, two ringbearers, one bridesmaid, and one reader/kid wrangler piled in the car on Friday and drove an hour to this lovely vineyard.

Bride and auntie Jo taking the kids to see the horse barn

The threatening rainclouds added drama to the stunning scenery.


A wise maid and matron of honor consulted Google just before the rehearsal and brought along a printed description of a wedding ceremony.  Considering the wedding coordinator was in absentia, the pastor had never done a wedding before, and the bride is laid-back and distinctly un-bossy, I was impressed with their forethought.


The rehearsal went quite well, with the flower girls sprinkling grass clippings along a pretend outdoor aisle (no chairs yet set up), majority opinion and Google working out the tricky questions about order of entrance, and the newbie pastor coming across surprisingly seasoned.


The assistant ringbearer did refuse to walk down the aisle with his brother, preferring to attach himself to Mommy instead.  Both bride and groom immediately decided that whatever made Caleb happy is what Caleb would be allowed to do during the ceremony.


More family joined the wedding party for the rehearsal dinner, which was lovely and delicious and charged with an atmosphere of celebration.  Our kids were pleased to meet a 15-month-old little girl who was likewise fascinated by them, and as we were, not surprisingly, seated at the edge of the crowd nearest an open low stage area, all five kids danced and jumped and ran in circles and played ring-around-the-rosy all evening.


There was only one minor mishap when Caleb was playing with the little girl and his pants suddenly fell down.  Thankfully suspenders were planned for the wedding day.


I got to join the other bridesmaids and bride at a salon on the morning of the wedding to spend several hours getting done up.  Once perfect beauty was achieved, we realized we were a little tight on transportation.  The other ladies' good nature shone through when they cheerfully pushed aside Jason's gym clothes and graciously clambered into the jump seats in the back of our truck, bumping along to the vineyard all coifed and pretty.


The rest of the afternoon was spent taking pictures and primping in the very nice dressing room.

Father of the bride's first look at his daughter on her wedding day

Such handsome boys.  That one on the left is the one who, when his mother is occupied, thinks it's a good idea to soak the rest of his sandwich in his milk, then smoosh the soggy bread blobs onto the table and watch the milk drip through the crack onto the floor.  Kind of like a wine press, but less useful.

 This is also the child who, when his pants inevitably fall down, instead of asking for help to replace them, pulls them onto his head and takes off running.

Thankfully Jo planned suspenders for this day.

Jeddy's expression says that he knows the risks involved with letting Caleb this close to such a spectacular cake.

I was far too busy and my hands were far too full after this to take any more pictures.  It was a 5:30pm wedding and Caleb hadn't had a nap, so he was worn out before it even started.  As soon as we emerged from the dressing room to line up, Caleb spotted me and attached himself to me like super glue, never to let go for the rest of the night.

Thus the second ringbearer did travel down the aisle, in my arms.  He stayed there through the whole beautiful, moving, joyful ceremony, and exited the same way he entered.

The flower girls sprinkled their petals evenly, the true ringbearer produced the rings at the proper time, and I didn't trip over my floor-length gown.  

Whew.

After a barrage of pictures, the wedding party made a grand entrance to raucous applause, another delicious meal was served, Caleb stained his shirt and my gown with raspberry rémoulade, wine flowed freely, and the dance party started.  

I've never been to such a fun wedding.  The dance floor was crowded and the kids were a hit--and did I mention the free-flowing wine?  

At one point we realized Caleb hadn't had his Pull-Up changed all day, so I threaded through the crowd to take care of that.  We were stopped by three pretty 20-somethings who said, "He's our favorite guy here!!  What's his name?"  Caleb of course put on a suave smile and waved at the ladies, who fawned and swooned.  I was sorely tempted to have Caleb tell his admirers, "Excuse me ladies, but I need to go change my underwear."  Ooh la la!

Since Caleb was determinedly adhered to my arms, Jason kindly retrieved from the car my ratty old sling, with which I tied Caleb onto me over my formal gown.  In this manner we danced the night away and didn't leave until after midnight.  

All the kids were asleep by the time we got out of the parking lot.  Everyone slept until 10 (!!) the next morning.  

Best wishes to the wonderful couple for their new life together!

First day of school pictures

All prepared

All lined up and ready for class

The scholars at work

Caleb studies Theseus and the Minotaur

Ada, delighted to have her own spelling workbook

I marveled at the difference between two children.  Jeddy certainly did not color his math worksheets so meticulously.

Everyone concentrating.  (Lovely fresh bruise on Caleb's head.)

Caleb helping Ada read.

Those handsome glasses of Jeddy's lasted exactly 10 days before Caleb, left alone in the room, seized his opportunity to climb on the kitchen counter, take them out of the case, and wrench the arm off of them.  He then hid the part he ripped off.


When I reentered the room and exclaimed in dismay upon finding most of the glasses on the floor, he said, "Sowwy, Mommy."


He did not, however, produce the missing piece, so we expended at least four man-hours over several days searching for it (the warranty we paid for being void if we don't return the entire product).


I finally discovered it waaaay under the refrigerator--under which I had felt around with a spatula without success.  Only when I tried later with a yardstick did it appear.


The new glasses are on order.


Caleb's in the doghouse.  He's pretty comfortable there.

Momentary alien abduction

I knew Caleb had been invisibly possessed by aliens last week when I told him, "Go get in your seat," and he said "O-tay."  I stood in shock while he went straight over to his seat and climbed in.


I was about to file a missing persons report when I said, "Now buckle yourself up."  When he shouted "NO!" we knew we had our little boy back.

Voodoo magic, session 2

The chiropractor had me wait in a new room today, this one with scary instruments in it.  One I'm quite sure was a taser.  In the other corner was a jar of Barbicide.  Under what circumstances would my chiropractor perform a haircut?


He touched none of the scary instruments during my appointment.  Instead, he cracked significantly fewer vertebrae this time and wanted me to tell him more about the occasional dizziness that I had marked on my intake form.


Unconvinced that stress is the fullest explanation possible for my vertigo, he had me perform a test in which I stood in the middle of the room, raised my hands out in front of me, closed my eyes, and did thirty high-knee stomps.  I failed the test because when I opened my eyes after thirty stomps, I had rotated to my right.  He explained that this indicates I have a problem with part of my brain.


Well, we all knew that.

He also shoved me from different sides to see if I could maintain balance--which I couldn't.


He assigned me certain tasks to exercise my cerebellum, one of which is to look at my index finger at arm's length in front of me, and watch it as I bring it to touch my nose--in and out, in and out.


Another is to sit in an office chair while a responsible person steadily turns me clockwise.  After this, I'm supposed to redo the stomping test.

I thought I heard giggling behind his clipboard when he wrote all this out for me and I'm pretty sure I heard guffaws and saw him wiping away tears of mirth when I exited the office.

Nevertheless, I will dutifully perform my homework and hope the guy didn't hang those diplomas on the wall just so he could laugh at earnest people doing ridiculous things.

First day of school tomorrow.  I think all the preparations are complete.  Including, importantly, childproofing locks on the low drawers of the school cabinet.


In a spirit of hypocrisy, here are pictures of Caleb earnestly trying to open the newly locked drawers.

May the locks hold and our ridiculousness be fruitful.

5 Reasons to Give Thanks From Psalm 118

1.  He is good.


Goodness is an integral aspect of God's character.  He is never not good.  He sometimes allows bad things to happen--for an ultimate, greater good--which is inscrutable, baffling, and painfully frustrating at times.  Experiencing or witnessing badness can shake our faith in God's goodness.


Yet the psalmist bookends Psalm 118 with this assertion:  "Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good."


It takes supernatural faith to thank God for His goodness when our experience is replete with badness.


Verse 17 gives us a helpful hint here.  "Tell of the works of the LORD."  Tell a friend; tell a crowd; tell yourself.  Tell of His works.  If you can't think of any in your own life, start reciting redemptive history:  God created man in His own good image.  Man fell, and God immediately foretold a Savior to come.  The perfect God-Man entered the world, lived sinlessly, died sacrificially, rose miraculously, called me irresistibly.  He is working a gradual process of growth of His church, and will eventually and suddenly return and make all things new and right.


He is good.



2.  His lovingkindness is everlasting.


The psalmist not only bookends this psalm with these words, but states them a total of five times.


"Give thanks to the LORD...
For His lovingkindness is everlasting."  Verse 1


"Let Israel say, 
'His lovingkindness is everlasting.'"  Verse 2


"Let the house of Aaron say, 
'His lovingkindness is everlasting.'"  Verse 3


"Let those who fear the LORD say, 
'His lovingkindness is everlasting.'"  Verse 4


"Give thanks to the LORD...
For His lovingkindness is everlasting."  Verse 29


Did we hear yet that His lovingkindness is everlasting?


Maybe God knows this is difficult for us to believe?


God doesn't love 'em and leave 'em.  His covenant compassion for His people is constant every day of the confusing time between first belief and final glory.   The psalmist is calling us to believe in God's everlasting and right-now mercy.


"The LORD is for me."  Verse 6


"It is better to take refuge in the LORD
Than to trust in princes."  Verse 9



3.  I shall enter through the gates of righteousness (verse 19).


"Enter through the narrow gate...For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life."  Matthew 7:13-14


"I am the way, and the truth, and the life."  John 14:6


"I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved."  John 10:9


"By His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us...righteousness."  1 Corinthians 1:30


Seeing Jesus, the Gate of Righteousness, opening wide the narrow way to heaven for us is reason for thanksgiving.



4.  He has answered me and become my salvation (verse 21).


"From my distress I called upon the LORD;
The LORD answered me and set me in a large place."  Verse 5


What about those times we call from our distress and He doesn't answer?  What if we feel hemmed in and smothered?


The most desperate plea the Lord's children will ever cry is for Jesus to take away their sins.  In this, the Lord has answered us and become our salvation.  He has given us freedom from the ancient curse, freedom from our old self, freedom from fear of this world.


"In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world."  John 16:33


"I will not die, but live...
The LORD has disciplined me severely,
But He has not given me over to death."  Verses 17-18



5.  He is my God (verse 28).


He didn't have to reveal Himself in His Word.


He didn't have to extend friendship at infinitely great cost to Himself.


He didn't have to secure my salvation and make me His own.


He is my God.


Thanks be to God.

My dear brother, you could've been a chiropractor

It didn't take the chiropractor long to assess me and determine that I have a problem with my S4-L1, and L4-L5, and L10-L11 vertebrae (or something like that).  I'm not sure how he figured all that out without an MRI or voodoo magic, but he demonstrated to me how my flexibility and strength are clearly lopsided.  Plus, every consequence he described of those vertebrae being locked up sounded exactly true, so I guess he wasn't making stuff up.


Then he outlined a plan of treatment which involves twice-weekly office visits for 3 weeks, followed by 8 weeks of physical therapy rehab which I will mostly do myself at home.  And then--so he says--I will have repaired enough core strength to live a normal life back-pain-free.


!!!


Such an extravagant promise makes me wonder if he's a TV faith healer too.  A voodoo-witch-doctor-fire-and-lights-snake-handling-faith-healer.


I didn't see that mentioned on any of the many diplomas hanging on the wall.


After discussing the plan of action, he proceeded to do "An Adjustment."


Whoever named it An Adjustment probably also tells women in childbirth that they'll feel a little pressure.


"An adjustment" implies moving my shirt over half an inch to cover a peek-a-boo strap, or tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.


This wasn't like that.


This was more like folding me up like a pretzel and jumping on me until my spine sounded like a string of firecrackers going off.


Or like a game of Twister:  "Put your right hand on your left shoulder, bend your right leg, put your left leg back, look to the right, put your left hand on your left hip and...." followed by the sound you hear when you twist a sheet of bubble wrap.


He had me sit up and hug a pillow, and then tackled me onto my back and CRUNCH.


He took me in a headlock and wrenched my skull around to pop the bubble wrap in my neck.  He warned me, "Be very careful who you let do that to you."


All in all, it felt very much like my childhood growing up with my brother.  He may have missed his calling in life.


Or he may be the reason there's a market in my town for chiropractors.

Ow

I'm seeing a chiropractor tomorrow.  

Jason's been home sick in bed most of the week, but no worries, because I'm here to take care of him... while crippled with hip pain.  

What fortune we have kids old enough to prepare and serve us peanut butter sandwiches in bed.  

When Jeddy was small, I once calculated that it takes nine times longer than normal to do anything when you have a baby.  Therefore I theorize the existence of mom-years; like dog-years except the mom ages nine years for every one regular human year, since the birth of her first child.  Each subsequent child adds a flat four years (taking into account pregnancy, childbirth, infancy, and the terrific twos).


Thus, by my calculations, I'm actually 117 years old.


That explains an awful lot.

Perspective check

Caleb has been especially difficult recently.  He's so two.


He resists being picked up by turning his body into that of an eel, except with kicking legs, and slithers through your grasp until you realize you're holding him around the neck.


He knows when it's time to get dressed, go potty, or get in the high chair, and he shoots me a "catch me if you can" smirk and zips off running to the farthest corner of the house.


He screams for food and when you give him the exact food he asked for, he throws it with a NO! and then dissolves into tears.


He begs for massive quantities of food that gives him diarrhea.


He refuses to point it down and pees clear across the bathroom every time.


He steals markers and colors on his sister's art project.


He steals scissors and cuts a belly button hole in his new shirt.


He walks on other people's dining room tables when they're gracious enough to have us over.


He flings food, Legos, crayons, books, toys, and occasionally himself.


He's determined to stuff something, anything, in the toilet.


He fishes around in trash cans.


He races me to the door to escape when I put him to sleep.


He steals pot holders and takes off running with them.


He's figured out how (and when) to say "Lizzy did it."


Adding to the difficulty of controlling him is the (I think) pinched nerve in my hip, so, especially now, he can pretty much run circles around me.


We start school next week.


I feel anxious about this.


I brilliantly figured out how to schedule all the kids' subjects so they're each working independently while I'm working with another kid, and we have other times scheduled for the together subjects.


I've got piano lessons lined up, I've got my Latin pronunciation guide, I've got books starting to accumulate on my own personal "holds" shelf behind the desk at the library.   I have lists of subjects, lists of books, lists of supplies, lists of lessons.  I have this week set aside for teacher work days.


But I also have Caleb:  Toddler Extraordinaire.

Also we have a wedding coming up.

So does this mean I have to rely on Jesus??


I have a situation coming up in which I will notice my lack of patience and mental resources?  This school year spells certain death.


Death to the comfortable idea that I am independently competent and capable.


Death to the mirage that I'm such a naturally nice person.


Death to my grip of control.


Death to self.


I really don't like being inconvenienced by any of my children.  I'd much rather forge ahead with grammar rules and fascinating literature than deal with any of that irksome heart stuff.


I used to assume The Baby IS the Lesson by Diane Hopkins was an article encouraging homeschoolers to give extra anatomy or human development lessons when they had this most appropriate visual aid in the house.  But it's actually about how your response to the inevitable interruptions from the littlest among you is the most profound lesson your older children will learn in their homeschool.  Are they learning that the little one is a frustrating irritation or a precious little person in need of our love?


In other words, people are more important than grammar rules, howsoever beautifully tidy and refreshingly logical the grammar may be.


"Pilate...took water and washed his hands...saying, 'I am innocent of this Man's blood; see to that yourselves.'  And all the people said, 'His blood shall be on us and on our children!'"                

-Matthew 27:24-25

What the ignorant crowd cried in horrendous foolishness, I plead today in desperate faith:  Let His blood be on us and on our children.  Let it be on me when I react with frustration.  Let it be on my toddler when he defies rightful authority.  Let it be on my children when they're not particularly interested in doing school.  Cover us, Jesus, and help us to trust You. 

May I homeschool with excellence where possible, and even more, glorify Him by patiently tending the littlest of His image-bearers.

Not really worth blogging about

I had a dream last night that I was vacuuming.


The sad part is, it was a good dream.

Yes, besides VBS, the most exciting thing to happen around here in the last few weeks was the arrival of our new vacuum cleaner.

It came with both an upright and a shoulder-pack component and everyone wanted in on the action.

I think my house got cleaner in one day than it's been in the past eight years.

So light, even a three-year-old can use it!

Caleb had another birthday party.

And discovered our friends have the perfect ledge in their house for vrooms.

As for the rest of us, we're mostly recovered from viruses we brought home from VBS, and what I think is a pinched nerve in my hip from too many piggy-back rides at VBS is slowly improving.  (Meaning I can walk like I'm under the age of 90 today.)

We're (I'm) gearing up for back-to-school soon.  I'm a bit nervous about Caleb's total disregard for common sense and how that will play out, but I'm excited to start having three students this year!