chats with Beattie

I’ve been stitching the last bits of decoration onto costumes for the upcoming musical, and yesterday as Beatrice and I sat, her working on an embroidery project, me sewing another band of gold ribbon, she said,

“You don’t sew very much anymore, do you, Mama? That’s kind of true, isn’t it?”

I smiled. “Yes, that’s true. Not very much. I have five children, you know!”

“Yes, Cecily is number five and she keeps you very busy.”

Thoughtful pause.

“But that’s good that you’re very busy, Mama, because that means you are always taking care of your children.”

Heart melt and attitude check all in one instant. Out of the mouth of this babe comes the sweetest encouragement, and the startling reminder of how I am shaping her value system and ideology by my example.

She sees that I’m busier than ever with the care of these beautiful children. Does she see that it brings me joy, and that my service is prompted by sacrificial love? I pray so.

March, in photos

I’m so glad for pictures! These months of busy but unspectacular days would be lost if it weren’t for pictures. (Lost to my memory, anyway. Not lost in their impact!)


Waiting for Daddy


Fiona’s fabulous drawings


<3


A shopping trip where I let the girls pick out birthday gifts for a friend — oh, the joy!


Sunrises


She is loving this new skill!


Learning to braid Fiona’s hair


NZ gear from the grands


Another year older = time to start some good habits.


Luther together for movie night


Cherry pie birthday traditions


My new vacuum comes completely apart for cleaning. AWESOME.


Blessing my two girls with fun new skirts from Mama’s sewing machine.


Birthday outing!


BFFs


Bubbles and babies.


Sometimes our friend Julie spoils us.


Illuminating our scriptures.

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Reading!


She loves her baby dolls.


And she loves her pretend friends.


March walks.


I just love these kids!


Outings with Cecily


Learning to bake independently


Sunshine and a blondie.


In denial about winter


What up.


The four amigos.


So sweet.

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Jameson performing for Grandparent’s Day — much of our months has been music for various things!

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Beatrice!

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William!

February, in photos

The shortest month, almost done. So much just life crammed into four short weeks. So many moments of ordinary, and every one special and meaningful. I think that’s amazing.


This little one learning to stand, and take a few steps. Making us laugh with antics, loving when all eyes are on her.


This oldest one readily helping out each and every day.


Many mornings spent at the kitchen table, with kids drawing or painting while I read out loud from our current history selection. This hour+ is NOT on the schedule I made last fall, but that’s my favorite part of deep winter months: the quiet hours of books and creativity that sort of insert themselves in a way that just fits.


Mornings that occasionally look like this. Waking early and getting out for a walk before it all begins has been harder this winter than any other season in 5 years! But I keep trying. Something is better than nothing.


This blurry pic represents a whole-family excursion to scope out a new business location. As soon as we were all buckled in, I suddenly realized we hadn’t done anything all together since Christmas. We went out for dinner and it was special. We love each other.


We read lots of books in the winter. I wish it could be more — does anyone else look over their bookshelves and think, How can we read all of these wonderful stories today?!? But a moment here and a page there. It’s regular and routine and part of our lives, and I’m glad for that.


Reading is also togetherness most of the time.


I love hearing the boys read out loud. They put their best into it (although occasionally not, and I tell them to do it all over without the race-to-the-end effect!) This book is our 2017 winter favorite. “Snow,” by Uri Shulevitz. The kids always begin the story with title and author, because saying “Uri Shulevitz” is the most fun. If you don’t have this book, and you have littles, get it! Fiona had the story memorized immediately, so captivated was she by the simple text and fun illustrations.


February is when spring endeavors begin. William has begun rehearsals twice a week for his role in the upcoming high school musical. And no, he’s not in high school yet. Phew.


This. Every morning (except the occasional day when my routine gets thrown off and I forget!) A salad for Ryan. Probably most people think of him as a free spirit, spontaneous. And he is, somewhat. But not completely. He loves, craves routine. So each morning, this.


This past week, days that reached 60* (!!!), and rain that has melted all but the biggest piles of snow. But the week before, the loveliest snowfall of the entire winter. What I have no pictures of is the kids outside. Every single day, regardless of how on or off track we are, they head outside after lunch. They laugh and play (and fight and resolve), and are friends, even the ten year old boy and three year old girl. I love it.


This baby of mine. I just love her. She naps in a little “nest” on the floor, because I’m a weird hippie or something. We have no crib. Somehow I’ve always gotten through the crib stage without one, even if it’s a bit unconventional for a few months. She’s too old to be left on my bed, of course, but wants to lay down and nurse to sleep at nap time. So we do. I love these baby days. I know, and you know: they go too fast.


One of those mornings I did get out to walk, I sacrificed exercise for fellowship. I’ve been thinking about cultivating friendship with these girls. Rapport. Fiona, especially, really loves me. Somehow it’s easy to not really notice that, or to somehow think she just loves the mom in her life, but not necessarily me. I don’t want to take for granted or assume her affection. She’s a unique person who genuinely loves me as a person.

And so much more not pictured. Thoughts, conversations, piano lessons and meals and laundry piles and chores crossed off. Friends and family we share life with all week long. Choices made that allow for regular remembrance of Who our lives belong to and how we can honor Him.

So Happy Sunday. Thanks for following along with this update of the ordinary. Have a blessed day!

september 6: starting school

Yesterday, we jumped back into the full swing of things.

Something about this year has my head swirling, nervous and excited, and I’ll confess that I had a hard time sleeping in anticipation of the First Day. Would it go okay? Did I think it through enough? Would they like it? Would it go hilariously awry or be tragically disastrous? (“Hilariously awry” is a pessimist’s attempt at positivity.)

It was great.

It’s a lot of work, isn’t it? It was after dinner before I caught my breath, and then wondered how on earth I ever fit anything else into life — including basic things like returning text messages! I did, however, get to shower before evening, so I’ll count that a big win for me. Jameson was, of course, excitedly pushing through as many math lessons as possible before I finally noticed he was still awake last night and sent him to bed. William loves a checklist and excitedly crossed almost every item off (I may have some pie-in-the-sky hopes for what we can do in a day. That will get reevaluated this week as we see how our rhythms really flow best.) And Beatrice, of course. “I can’t believe this is really my first day of kindergarten!” Then last night, getting ready for bed: “I can’t believe tomorrow will be my second day of kindergarten!” I wonder how long she’ll be keeping track?

And, in true homeschooling fashion, the boys even spontaneously spent the afternoon helping my dad with a project. Rocking real life is the name of the game, joyfully looking ahead to each day with a willingness to bend and bow and weave learning into the fibers of real moments.

We got to the end of our day, and they all played basketball and frisbee with so much joy for a few minutes before bed, and I felt so soul-satisfied. It is good to work hard, with abandon, at the will of God. One can’t measure success by “soul satisfaction,” of course, but there is fruit. It is deep calling to deep, echoing, “This is right, and this is good.”

Sirens, a rare occurrence in my part of the world, woke me long ago, and so I am up meeting the day, admiring lingering stars, savoring quiet. Maybe some of you are up, too, maybe getting ready to begin school at your house. Send students off for the first time. Or maybe there are no little pupils in your life yet, or anymore. No matter the season, this day is written in His book for you: Seek His face, say yes to His will, and therein find delight and fountains of life.

August 18

We had a birthday.

I’m not the best party-thrower, and we aim for simple around here, but it is so good to stop the usual and celebrate the fact that God gave us the gift of each other.


making cake together


last hug for her 4yo sister


first-thing presents from neighbors who love her


coloring at the picnic table — the big event that held their attention for over an hour!


I love Fiona, quietly taking in every nuance of these big girls


getting ready


ready!


soaking it all in


“It’s just what I wanted!” I wish I could have captured her face. Perfect.


best big brothers

We are really thankful that God gave us this bright, perceptive, loving, joyful little lady.

august 11: Beatrice

Today Beatrice and I watched the sun rise, the air already heavy with the sticky humidity of the day. She brought books outside and read almost quietly while I spent a few minutes with my Bible.

She wants to help me cook all the time. Even when I’m trying so hard to just bang something out, she’s there, asking. Yesterday morning I wrote in my journal, “Help me to draw [the children] close,” and then had to laugh when the opportunity presented itself at the wrong moment. You know, the way God seems to do. I thought you wanted to be stretched, to embrace them more in each moment? Is this not a good one? No, God, it’s not quite what I was thinking, but the joke’s on me. I get it.

And I pull up a chair for the eager little girl next to me. She painstakingly puts each cucumber slice into the bowl, and I do my best to resist the urge to hurry her along. Her eyes sparkle and her dimples appear when she pops a slice into her mouth. I shake my head and laugh.

She has a birthday in six days. She’s been on cloud nine ever since the calendar page flipped to her month, and she is just bursting with anticipation. On August 2nd, I brought her on an errand and she very confidently walked next to me in the parking lot without holding my hand because, she asserted, she was nearly five, you know.

School books just for her are collecting, along with the boys’, in the corner of my room. I can’t imagine how excited she will be when she sees them all, just for her. Her very first CFA uniform came in the mail (had to grab that sale price in July!), and it’s been tried on and carefully hung. Each sock is rolled and tucked into a little navy blue shoe.

And tonight, she told me her tooth hurt, and when I touched it, it wiggled. “Oh my! You have a loose tooth!” Her eyes turned round as saucers, and then the biggest smile. “I have a loose tooth?! I’m getting to be such a big girl!”

These little people. They grow so fast. The circumference in which they travel around me grows wider and wider each year, and Beatrice is slipping into an orbit that is just beyond my perpetual reach. A little bit independent. Thinking about life a little bit more on her own. Laughing and singing and playing and doing it all without me much of the time.

So when she fingers that loose tooth, I grab her into my arms and give her a long squeeze. She’s growing, but she’s not grown quite yet. Still my little girl, still just right for a story on my lap.