Saturday, November 03, 2018

This is more than a curriculum

(I started this post in September. That's why they look so tan!)

I am only a couple months into this "curriculum" by The Homegrown Preschooler and I feel like it is an answer to prayers I have voiced and prayers I never even knew I had. I saw it on a blog and instinctually and impulsively bought it (seems like everything I buy and do lately…).  

By the way, this isn't a sponsored post. But it should be! 
If anyone in Portugal reads this and buys this for their kids, please let me know! 

It appeals to the type-A/OCD side of me because it has a beautiful check-off list with a theme and Bible verse for every month. It appeals to the lazy/unschooling side of me because it is low-key, play-based and you can do what you are able to. 

It has a few quotes here and there for every month and my absolute favorite is this one by G.K. Chesterton:

"What is education? Properly speaking, there is no such thing as education. Education is simply the soul of a society as it passes from one generation to another."

This quote touches on so much of parenting/education/family/culture/life/what we're doing here on this earth for me. It touches on what is somewhat of an intuition for me and what is somewhat confirmed by books and people I trust. It is why I can't put them in a germ-filled "school" room with a 20-year-old teacher who will be their #1 influence, doing things I didn't do as a child.

It makes me dream again. It reminds me of the beautiful moments with nature and holidays in my own childhood. It has activities that are exciting for me and exciting for my kids. That I can set up and surprise them with or call out, "Who wants to play with ___?!" It brings us together. 

It's more than a curriculum. 

Friday, October 26, 2018

When you feel like you're the only one

(I love the feet)

I think this (when you feel like you're the only one…) is the worst kind of suffering. 
I feel like this about my daughter. I never imagined I would have a kid like her, with the specific problems she has (and of course she has amazing talents and qualities also). But her specific problems shock me and embarrass me. And there is no easy answer. 
I get glimmers of an answer here and there, but there aren't usually instant, one-size-fits-all, handy solutions to your deepest problems. So it's a little hurtful when people offer "formulas", as Sally Clarkson calls them. 
I loved what Jennifer Fulwiler said on this instagram post: 
"When I go out to speak, over and over again I see the power of the in-person connection. I see the relief on people’s faces as they look around a room of likeminded folks and realize, “I’m not the only one. Next time you’re trying to decide whether to go to any kind of conference or gathering, err on the side of yes. If it feels even a little bit right, do it. And don’t get the introvert flu and back out at the last minute. Get your ticket, show up, and be open to the experience. You’ll probably be surprised by how much your soul needed it."
And THIS is the cure to this worst kind of suffering. When you open up to someone and they open up to you. No formulas. No judgment. No shame. Just honesty about our woundedness. Oh Lord, I'm not the only one! The first step to friendship. To communion. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Myyyyy baby

I came to the sudden realization that I am head over heels in love with our baby Tommy because he is my baby. He is my baby in a way that even my future grandchildren or nephews or friends' babies will never be. I am responsible for his care and protection at a most intense level… with all the good and bad that entails. The bad is the most obvious crying, having a hard time sleeping reliably at all, being really incredibly needy and wanting to be in my lap ALL.THE.TIME, crawling toward me whenever he sees me or hears my voice, waking up at night, etc etc. 

The good is that he is mine and I am his in a way that gradually wears off. I look at my two-year-old Davy boy who is incredibly handsome and charming and sometimes I see a grown boy or a man in him and I'm terrified. I think, who is this PERSON that is coming into view here?! The mystery that is unraveling is more apparent. 

But Tommy…? He's more like a fashion acessory that is on my hip wherever I go. Or a pet I can fatten up and wash so that he's sweet-smelling and will make me want to kiss him more. I can dress him up how I want, feed him how I want, squish his cheeks and kiss his hands do rasberries on his neck… because he likes it all. He adores me. It's incredibly flattering. I know his every coo and cry. I just have to make a little sound effect and he laughs. It's like we have a secret language. It's this weird, instinctual, protective love that makes him myyyy baby. It reminds me of when I played dolls as a kid. 

And if, God forbid, he ever grows up into a little charming, rebellious man like his older brother… well, I just might have to get another baby. 

Monday, October 01, 2018