Happy Bad Poetry Day

There was an Old Man of Nantucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket
His daughter, named Nan,
Ran away with a man--
And, as for the bucket, Nantucket

Pa followed the pair to Pawtucket
(The man and the girl with the bucket)
And he said to the man,
"You're welcome to Nan",
But as for the bucket, Pawtucket

Then the pair followed Pa to Manhasset
Where he still held the cash as an asset
And Nan and the man
Stole the money and ran
And as for the bucket, Manhasset

In honor of the birthday party I'm planning...

If you need a good laugh, click on over to Cake Wrecks. My princess wants to get her ears pierced for her birthday. I'm sure I could have a really hideous one commissioned for that event!

(Thanks ERJM!)

Rolling

Pshew! Week 1 of homeschool year 2008/2009 is complete. I really love homeschooling--it's totally my calling--and I must admit that there's an added bonus that my house stays neater and I feel much more in charge of my time when we've got a set schedule of tasks to complete, but honestly I feel like I already need a vacation!

My plan was to get all of our academics done Monday through Thursday so we can spend Fridays on fine arts and nature hikes. Well...we are already behind in our three R's and haven't done any fine arts study save listening to Bach's Magnificat during lunch thanks to a smiley little three foot boy in diapers.

I don't know how you folks with toddlers do it. I feel like a broken record with: "Get off the sofa." "Don't swing on the table." "Please sit down and play with your cars." We have a sliding door between our dining room and our screened porch, so I had the brilliant idea of putting the readers out on the porch for quiet, keeping the writer in the dining room and the toddler in the kitchen. Said toddler didn't like that idea and in trying to mess with the slider jammed it over his big toe, pulling off the nail. Ouch and double ouch! Needless to say we've done better trying to cram as much school into nap hours as possible.

I know that for us this won't last forever, in fact, it may only last another week; our placement agreement is over in 10 days. But after a week of school with a pre-schooler, I have to give a big hat's off to you mom's who school with littles all year. And for the record (and my husband's I-told-you-so satisfaction) my quiver is full. Womb closed.

Caught in the Act

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth. ~2 Timothy 2:15

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. ~3 John 1:4

Midlife Crisis?

Some buy sports cars. Some get tummy tucks. I decided to get my hair cut.

This is what I looked like before:







And this is me after:

Perfect 10

Ten years ago today I started on the most challenging and most fulfilling adventure of my life: I had a baby boy. I never knew my heart could love someone as much as I loved your seven pounds of sweet baby goodness! You and I have been a match from the beginning. I wanted you out, you were happy staying in. I wanted you to sleep and eat, you had other plans. You may wear your daddy's face, but you have your mama's temperament!

Yes, you are my strong-willed child. And I love you today with an even bigger love than I had that first day I met you. You are so bright, so talented, and so tenacious. And to think my boss used to call me a bull dog! Honey, you've got me beat and you're only 10!

It is my prayer that your heart would be as pliable as your determination is firm and that God would use these traits to make a mighty man of God out of you, warrior boy.

I love you, Bubba. Happy tenth birthday.

Mom

Shabby Clothing

I do not have abandoned compassion. You know, the kind that loves deeply everything and everyone in its path. It's as if there is a line in my heart that defines, "Only this far, and no further." We're not talking hard-heartedness here. Not meanness or rudeness, but the difference between the love a mother has for her own kids and the kindness she has for the neighbor kids or the kids she babysits.

We've had a tiring week. Nothing tragic, just a few bites and slaps and a lot of toddler defiance. Nothing we can't handle with grace and relative ease. But instead of basking in the strides we're making, my sinful nature automatically focuses on the difficulty of having someone else's child in the house and how he'd be different if he'd been born here. We've gone from "NO!" and temper tantrums to "Yes, please," and "Thank you." We're communicating in sentences and no longer putting little feet on the dinner table. Those are successes! And yet I get bogged down in the size 5 diapers--why isn't this child potty trained?--and the stench emanating from his mouth--he's on public aid: why hasn't he seen a dentist?

Where others may see my outward kindness, God and I can clearly see the proud and impatient toddler-like woman I am below the surface. I like things my way, and right now normal is out of whack. My spirit is irritable. But I don't believe this gives me the right to give up or even to pout. Grown-ups need to Do the Hard Things, too.

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience." Colossians 3:12

I think my coat needs some mending.