Why Do We Do the Things We Do?

My hubby is still working for a contractor, although he is traveling out of state now rather than working locally. He drove some of the equipment to the new job site as he headed out of town last week, so our yard saw the "cool, big trucks" of a lineman's profession for the first time in a long time. All the kiddos had to get lots of hugs and kisses as Daddy headed out, so I snapped a picture of him with his littlest man. (And can I just note that some women are more attracted to the office-worker-attire-wearing-guy, but I am appreciating my man once again strutting his stuff in jeans and lineman boots!)
Whoops, I wandered from my point already!

My POINT is that my husband is gone for a couple weeks and I am learning that there are some aspects to daily life that I apparently do just for Alan. Because I'm not doing them consistently while he's gone.

• For example, I am cooking differently. When he is home, we have a big meal nearly every night. Meat, potatoes and gravy kinds of big meals. Aside from my purposeful efforts these last three meals of chicken fajitas, pork chops and hominy, and hot beef sandwiches, we've been eating a lot of chicken bites, hot dogs, sandwiches, and frozen pizza.

• Then there's making the bed. I personally see no point in making the bed--a person just climbs back in there and messes it all up again the next night anyway, and what guest is going to be in my bedroom to see it messed up? But I have made it every morning for 19 years of marriage. Until this last week--while my husband is gone.

• Speaking of going to bed, I'm not doing that very well either. I just hate climbing in to that cold, lonely bed. What am I supposed to do about my cold feet if I can't tuck them between his always-warm calves to warm them up?? (don't mention socks, I abhor sleeping in socks!) So I keep staying up--too late. Yawn. He rarely stays up past 10:30 pm. I can't seem to make it to bed before midnight without him.

• Normally, when Alan is coming home in the evening, I feel like I spend all day picking up, but we have designated pick up times to keep the house under control. Everyone pitches in for a pick up before lunch and again around 4 pm before Daddy gets home. Then I like things picked up in the evening as everyone is going to bed, or at least before *I* go to bed. Two nights ago I looked at the living room strewn with dolls, vehicles, books, tractors, animals, stacking cups, blankets and A TENT right in the middle of it all. . .and I just shrugged my shoulders as I headed to the couch with a book. Once the midnight hour had sufficiently passed, I again surveyed the living room, decided Tornado Teddy would just dump everything out again first thing in the morning anyway and went to bed!

I have been taking a shower every day, however. Well, except for that one day--I was going to be home all day and I just didn't see the point.

Hurry home, Honey, I need some motivation!

Tornado Teddy

I've mentioned before that Alan's nickname for Tyrell is "Teddy". Well, Briana has refined that nickname (quite appropriately) to "Tornado Teddy."
Should an insurance adjuster come to inspect my house on any given day, I'm pretty sure we could file for some sort of payment under a "natural disaster" clause.

He gets into the shelf of Kindergarten and preschool stuff, pulling out books, laceups, Thomas trains and dot-to-dot books.
He pulls books off the shelves and videos out of the cupboards.
Yes, this is him realizing he is busted. What is his response? "Uh-oh"
I never have a hand towel on my oven door anymore. If I hang one up, he pulls it down, carries it approximately seven steps and drops it.
Evidence: blocks, books, hats, stacking cups, tractors, toy animals. Verdict: Tornado Teddy has been here.
Believe it or not, the kitchen floor had been clear just five minutes before this picture was taken. Now littering the floor: Kiana's pjs (clean, out of her drawer!), Easton's Bible, a book, and a grill fork (with tongs still covered, fortunately!). And yes, that's an EMPTY egg carton in his hands.

In case you didn't notice, this is all in one day--same shirt there.
I'm exhausted! I might be getting too old for this! :)

Tyrell's First Cornrows

I think I'm falling in love with my little man all over again! With a LOT of help from older brother and sister, I managed to get his hair confined to five cornrows.
As his curls are getting longer and thicker, it has been taking more time to detangle and he likes it less and less. This winter weather is also really hard on his hair, making it hard to keep moisturized and thus from suffering breakage, so I thought some corn rows might solve several of those issues.
He has a spot there right in the middle of the back of his head which is literally two inches shorter than the rest of his hair. This was quite challenging to get braided, and it's not staying in very well (thank you car seat!), but I'm hoping by braiding it to help that spot grow back in.

Destry read Tyrell a pile of books while Briana fed him snacks and I braided just as fast as my fingers would fly. chuckle It was pretty interesting.
But to see those eyes emphasized and their sparkle shining--well, that's definitely worth it!

Learning to Pray

I was excited to receive a copy of The Barber Who Wanted to Pray by R.C. Sproul in exchange for my review. The artwork alone, painted by T. Lively Fluharty, makes the book worth reading. My children are drawn to the cover, choosing the book again and again.
My impressions of the book, however, are mixed. The story is not very appealing to the children. Rarely do they lose interest in a book--they will sit for a full hour listening to us read. But they get distracted and wiggly when we read this book. Easton generally pulls out another book to look at once we're about halfway through the book. I think the tone is a little too "preachy" for children.

The story, such as it is, begins with a father spending devotional time with his children. I like that example of fathers reading the Bible to the children as a common occurrence. Then one of the little girls asks "Daddy, your prayers are beautiful. Sometimes I want to cry for joy when I listen to your prayers. But my prayers seem so simple and weak. I'm almost embarrassed and ashamed to pray out loud. Daddy, can you teach me how to pray in a way that will make Jesus happy and will make me feel more comfortable?"

The parable of the publican and the Pharisee comes to mind. Indeed, in my experience as a mother, I have many times wondered if our Heavenly Father hears my children's prayers from their simple, trusting sincerity more readily than He hears the "eloquent, pontificating prayers" of some of us adults. While I frequently "pray Scripture", especially phrases from the Psalms or pleas for "wisdom from above that is pure, peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy" or to be "clothed with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience", I hesitate at reducing this avenue we have of approaching God to such formulaic measures.

Back to the book, the daddy tells his children a story of Martin Luther writing a short book in answer to a barber's request for advice on how to pray. Luther said that if one would pray while reflecting on the Ten Commandments, the "Lord's Prayer" and the Apostles' Creed, he would "never run out of things to pray about." (As an aside, I personally have found age and maturity--indeed, life-- to provide ample material for prayer. I sometimes get overwhelmed at all the things I need to pray about! What do I *not* need to pray about?!)

I think this book is nice to have on hand when studying the reformation time period of history. It's an interesting way to introduce children to Martin Luther, and it does broach the subject of prayer in a way that opens conversations with the children regarding the purpose of prayer and how to pray. As I mentioned earlier, I also liked the God-centered example of the daddy leading the family in the study of Scripture. Too few books written for our children today present such a family as the norm.

Any Connection to Adoption?

Six years after beginning our adoption journeys, I have discovered a wonderful little resource for adoptive parents, potential adoptive parents, foster parents, and anyone who wants to support their friends or relatives who are traveling (or especially beginning) an adoption journey.
The premise of this ebook is a familiar one--you must take care of yourself in order to be able to take care of others. I've been reading Sharla Kostelyk's blog, The Chaos and the Clutter, for only a short time but have discovered in her a kindred spirit (except that she loves washing dishes--I can't relate to THAT! chuckle). The warm, conversational tone of her blog comes through in her book. Reading it is like sitting down for a good chat with a friend who has been there--indeed, is yet in the trenches beside you.

My favorite part of Shield: A Framework of Self-Care for Foster and Adoptive Families is the chapter on building a support network. In many ways, I had a great support group, but there are certain things people just don't know if they haven't had prior connections to adoption. If I were adopting now for the first time, I think I would buy a few copies of this to pass out to close friends and family! :)

As Sharla says, "It is important to prepare them for what lies ahead and to let them know what you will need from them. Do not assume that just because you have been there to support them in the past, they will be there to support you. Also, don't assume that they will know how to support you without being asked."

I remember explaining to close friends and family that our children wouldn't have had the experience of knowing my sounds and smells from their time in the womb, so I would be spending a lot of time with them at home, holding them, being the one to feed and change them, so they would know ME as their mama. It felt a little uncomfortable to both say and follow through on that, although people accepted it graciously, but how nice it would have been to have a little booklet to hand them which says "if you want to be the only one who is able to hold your child, people will be much more prepared and less likely to be offended if it has been explained to them ahead of time." (for more FANTASTIC information on attachment, check out this series my dear friend Kat is sharing as she prepares to bring home her daughter Jael--and pray for little Jael's attachment while you're at it).

Sharla's book has a lot of common sense advice which is easy to implement, yet it's also necessary to remind us that if we are running on empty, we have nothing with which to serve others. I appreciated her simple, practical steps to fall back on during a challenging time. This book is easy and compact and useful in passing on tips to successfully build a shield of self-care in the preparation for and process of adoption.

Math's Sanctifying Properties

When I first started homeschooling more than ten years ago, I heard that math is frequently the weakest area in home educated students. Oh, my shameful pride! I thought that wouldn't be the weak area in our program (I was sure it would be science).

You see, math was pretty easy for me. I actually liked it. But being a good student of math is not the same as being a good TEACHER of math.

This week, math has been demonstrating its sanctifying properties in *my* heart. It is teaching me patience, humility, and attempting to teach me self-control (we won't talk about the torn magazine cover).

I actually think factoring polynomials is fun. It's a fun challenge: Solve 21w(squared, don't know how to make that) - 41w + 10 = 0. So you list the factors of 21 (21 and 1, 7 and 3) along with the factors of 10 (1 and 10, 2 and 5) and you determine which combination will give you a -41 in the middle. There's something crazy in the way my brain works--I just see it.

(It's rather like the bizarre way my brain works when I play Bunco with friends. Bunco, you may already know, is a totally mindless and mind-numbing game in which you roll three dice and try to get a certain number. The first round you and your partner try to get more ones than the other pair, the second round you try to get more twos, etc. It's really about getting together with friends, eating yummy food, and leaving the kiddos home with daddy for a night. But sometimes I roll the dice and I see that even though we're on round five and I got a two, a three and a one--so my turn should be over--well, I could add the two and three and multiply by one and THAT would be a five! Or I could multiply the two and three and subtract one and THAT would be a five! And one of these days I am going to find someone to play it with me this way just once. If you get the number by manipulating the numbers on the dice you roll and use all three dice, now THAT should be a Bunco and worth 21 points. But I digress. . .)

I wonder now if it's about the way my brain works, or if I just had better teachers than my son has had. Because he doesn't see it. (and in case you missed it, *I* am his teacher. sigh)

Now, admittedly he used to be very good at math. I actually think this is part of his problem. Math has always been easy for him and he has never had to work at it. And I've let him be lazy. I always thought it was dumb to have to show all my work when I did half of it in my head anyway, so I didn't make him show all those steps. Now he needs to work at it, and he needs to show his steps and he doesn't want to do either. Yes, math has sanctifying properties for both of us.

He started Algebra in Math U See last year and got through lesson 21 of 35. It was a struggle, but he got a low B. I wanted him to have a strong foundation in Algebra and regretted letting him take it at the age of 13, so I decided this year he would do Algebra in a different curriculum and we chose the Life of Fred. Ironically, we started factoring polynomials this week, which was lesson 21 of MUS. And we're butting heads again.

I'm glad it's Friday and we don't have to do math again for a couple days. But what should we do as we approach a "second semester"? Should we go back to MUS and finish *that* curriculum, starting back with factoring polynomials (because MUS actually does a better job explaining why you do what you do and has video instruction)?? Or should we continue on with Life of Fred?

Or maybe I should order Saxon and a Dive cd. . .or Teaching Textbooks. . .or hire a tutor. . .

Filling the Freezer

Last weekend we completed our annual chicken butchering, uh, festivities. It's not the most fun a person ever has, but we sure enjoy eating the chicken so that makes it worth it. (Sorry Jenn, I know you never enjoy this routine, but here it is anyway. )
Destry was the official killer this year. First he caught the chickens, two at a time, then he took them to the "killing station" where he stuffed them down into a couple empty oil jugs which were nailed upside-down on the side of the chicken house. He pushed the chicken's head through the bottom opening and slit its throat, which killed it and allowed it to bleed out. An advantage we've found to this method (rather than wringing the neck or chopping the head off) is that the jug holds the chicken still which reduces bruising and wings breaking. It also seems to get all the blood out better.Then Destry carried the chickens to the "processing station" by our back porch where he dipped the chickens in scalding water for about 30 seconds and then put them in the infamous chicken plucker that Alan built several years ago.
After the chickens were plucked, Alan took the chickens to the "gutting table" where he removed their guts and cut off their heads and feet. We didn't keep the gizzards this year, so no one had to clean them out (the most disgusting job, in my opinion). Then the chickens went to the vat of ice cold water to get nice and cold because I can't stand cutting up a warm chicken. bleck
The final steps took place inside. Destry even got in on some of the fun of bagging the chickens. I had to be obnoxious to get him to smile--you can just guess what it took to make him grin like this.
Yay for a freezer full of meat! It seems a little silly to have fifty chickens in the freezer when we expect to be moving soon, but it sure is yummy and I guess I could give chicken as a thank you gift to anyone who wants to help me pack! :)