I have a plan

Not much causes me to lose sleep at night.  I enjoy sleeping too much for that.

But worrying about the education I'm providing for my kids does.

Especially when reality isn't matching up with my expectations.  

The end of the school year is fast approaching, and instead of that bringing elation, I'm panicking.

The list of lessons as yet incomplete is disproportional to the time left.  

You know, there are as many ways to homeschool as there are personalities that do it.  I'm thankful for my organizational nature that makes it so much easier to plan and execute school.  

But I'm also neurotic when I'm called on to be flexible.  

What are the benefits of homeschooling? one might ask.  High on any reasonable list will be "flexibility" and "ability to teach to each child's learning pace." 

But my plans, my beautifully laid out plans.....

Snack: the part of baseball that Caleb loves the most. 

My forte is making detailed long-range plans.

Setting aside detailed long-range plans to adjust to the actual world of reality:  not my forte. 

Especially when I thought I could recycle plans--figure it out once and multiply by four--it's discomfiting to realize that what worked for Children A and B doesn't work for Child C.  And even once I figure out Child C, none of it works for Child D.  

And so I'm bleary-eyed late into the night, trying to peer ten, fifteen years into the future and wondering how to reconcile it all.  

And this morning I'm yawning and remembering that this is the point where I need to trust God, Who planned all these things from the beginning with deliberate care for me and my children--A, B, C, and D.

You've been lost in the wind

And the rain of a storm at sea

The waves are crashing over your back

And you're crying out for Me

But as the ocean rages

I am sleeping in the boat

But I have a plan, I'm holding your hand

And I'm keeping you afloat

~Caedmon's Call, "Never Gonna Let Go"

Wordless Wednesday

Tell me, mate, I need to know

Recently listening to some lectures by Carl Trueman reminded me of the several British people we met in St. Lucia and the partially-serious remark I made to Jason that I would ask all my questions of the next British person we met.  

Such as:  What is the difference between the United Kingdom and Great Britain?

Do you really eat fish for breakfast?  (I assumed the poached tuna on the breakfast buffet in St. Lucia was for you, because it definitely wasn't for my benefit.)

Do you like how we talk as much as we like how you talk, or do you find it annoying because we're saying it wrong?

Do you celebrate Guy Fawkes Day?  Does it strike you as weird to burn an effigy on a bonfire?

What are kippers anyway?

In light of the ancient history of your land from whence so many of today's nations sprung, the world dominance of the seventeenth-century British Empire, and the surprising success of the relatively recent upstart American Revolution, do you resent the United States's perceived position as the current standard of western civilization?

Wordless Wednesday

Happy happy

Jason turned 40.

Despite his express wish for a jazz funeral held in his honor in New Orleans, I had to do the next-best thing and take him on a mystery birthday trip.


I told him to take off work and gave him departure and return times and a packing list.  He seemed delighted to be treated to a mystery surprise, but it drove the kids crazy.  I gave them the same information--no more.  They tried their best in the weeks leading up to it to trick me into giving away more information, but I held fast.  I've never seen them so eager on the edge of their seats on a car ride.


I made a new playlist just for the family road trip entitled "Karaoke Party."  Included was the Beatles' "Eight Days a Week."  Sometime after the second verse, Caleb burst out from the backseat, "That's more than a week!"  Somewhat indignant, he informed us, "That's an extra day!"  Along about the third or fourth (admittedly repetitive) verse, I heard him mutter, "Eight days a week again, geez."


The trip was only revealed in stages.  First stop, we checked into a hotel with an indoor pool and a few hours to play before dinner.

Then I drove them to Ted's Bulletin, where Caleb had a Mr. Breakfast for dinner and we all had milkshakes.

The next morning I had everybody dress up, much to their bemusement.

We parked downtown and walked to the waterfront of the Potomac, where a cruise ship stood waiting for us and things started to become clear.

Trying to hold up 40 fingers

All aboard the cherry blossom lunch cruise!

With time to spare before our dinner adventure, we hopped aboard an open-air tour bus for a ride.

Which was right up Caleb's alley, especially when he got the seat in the very front.

Next up, Dave and Buster's.

After that, everyone stayed up way late watching the NCAA final back in our hotel room.  

(We tried to put Caleb to bed, but he came out after a while holding his bleeding mouth open and wailing that he lost a tooth.  I asked, "Where is the tooth?"  "I don't know!  I LOST it!")

We slept in very late the next morning and concluded our birthday trip with brunch at a diner before heading home.


Happy birthday to Jason, and many happy more.