Fiona Elspeth. Look at this smile!
*****
Grandma and her little namesake. They really like each other. Grandma would say it’s because they’re both so sweet; Grandpa would roll his eyes, laugh, and mention something about spunk. Either way, it’s fun to see them together.
There are the preparations:
There is the busy and special morning:
There is the much-anticipated family celebration:
And all of it — all of it — is because of Jesus. Really. Where would I be without Him?
The snow has been epic this year, just the way I remember it as a child. We’ve trudged through snow that easily went above my knees, drifts up to my thighs, mounds in which little girls could easily get lost. Paths, forts, angels, trenches, you name it, it’s happened. Except for snow men. Because up here, in the North where it really actually snows for keeps until the absolute very end of winter, kids don’t just run outside and make snowmen. It’s too cold. The snow is flaky and light and as sparkly as fairy dust — and it packs like fairy dust, too. Once in awhile, the temp will eek its way towards 30, and I say, “Hey, let’s see if we can make a snowman! Or maybe just a snow ball. Or… Hey, wanna make snow angels?”
So, when the snow dumped once again on Sunday, and it was wet and heavy and horrible for shoveling, we finally got to make a snowman! Beatrice sang to him. She asked to marry him. William wouldn’t leave his side. Jameson was on to the next thing. Ha!
I was so glad. Finally. We finally got our snowman.
What’s funny about this is that two years ago this week, Jameson was taking the training wheels off his bike and zooming down our yard, wobbling and falling and getting grass stains. Ha! I love the North Country. It’s always beautiful. That’s about all you can be sure of!
*****
The rest of the week has been hovering around 40*. It’s practically summer! The kids get all crazy and wear their winter coats unzipped. You know what? They don’t have a clue that my forsythia bush is buried in a mountain of snow and ice, even though it usually would be budding. And they’re happier for it! Why wouldn’t they be? It’s another day that the Lord made, and it is good.
Fiona’s first “I’m hanging out with the kids!” day. She loved it.
She’s been around seven months, or so the calendar says. Gone like a breath. Sweet days, but fleeting.
Happy. She’s found a happy groove. Rolling all around the room, never ending where she began. Talking and screeching and loving to be a part. So big. So cheerful. So precious to us all.
six months:
five:
four:
three:
two:
one:
new:
See? Just like that.
It flies. It drags. It’s sweet. It’s terrifying. It’s highs and lows and calm and turbulent and mundane and beautiful and everything in between. But in the end, it passes. A wise man knows, numbers, and remembers his Creator.
She’s six months old. Already heading towards seven months, twelve months, childhood. She rolls. Chews. Laughs. Verbalizes in an attempt to do what she sees us all doing. Cries at dinnertime every night. Wakes up early, thus ending my season of early morning walks alone. Ushering in a season of mornings with Fiona.
Several days of not getting outside together have happened lately. I notice. I read about maintaining hardstops in your homeschooling days — times that, no matter what is in the middle of happening, every stops and gathers. For us, right now, those times are morning devotions and going outside after lunch. We may spend every single moment of the day together, but those times are together. I notice when we miss it. It’s good for my soul to just put the rest on hold and take a breath, recalibrate, see these people and hear the Holy Spirit.
We get ants-in-our-pants this time of year. Don’t we all? After being outside for a long trek two weeks ago, I packed up already-dressed kids and headed to the library. “Does anyone remember the #1 rule of the library?” Nope. It’s been that long. We left with the most ridiculous pile of books and days of excitement over new stories to read and pages to turn and worlds to discover. Thank You, Jesus, for dropping that idea in my head.
For history, we’ve been using Beautiful Feet Early American history. I was excited to have a curriculum that I could just do when there wasn’t time or energy to be creative, but also would allow for creativity and extras when appropriate. I love history, I love reading, and I love bunny trails, so literature-based unit approaches are the ticket. Of course, there is no perfect curriculum. What works now won’t work then, or for them, or for you, or whatever the variables may be! I’m the teacher. Curriculums are tools to use as I see fit. (Thanks, Mom, for modeling that!) We’ve very much enjoyed adding plenty of titles to our studies, as well as making up writing assignments and art projects and character studies (which sounds so official, but it’s just 2nd grade and K!) So far, some favorite additional titles have been Living Long Ago, A Viking Adventure, Exploration and Conquest, Blood on the River, and Our Strange New Land. We are, at last, about to leave Jamestown behind and plow ahead to 1620! Speeding right along. ;-)
One of the first ships carrying women and children to Jamestown was shipwrecked in the Bermudas, and its story inspired Shakespeare to write The Tempest. Well, you can’t just breeze over that fact! So we looked at William Shakespeare. I borrowed this book from the library, but thought it was really shooting for the moon. A 7 and 5 year old boy, sit and listen to a Shakespeare play? Really?
Really! They were on the edge of their seats! Clearly, he was a great playwright! At any rate, I recommend that series for an intro to Shakespeare.
Totally unrelated, I borrowed this book from the library. I mean, come on. Who could pass up those illustrations?
We read it. We talked about the paintings and the emotions they evoke. Then we listened to the Queen of Jazz. All this while eating pb&j around our kitchen table at lunch. Homeschooling doesn’t always feel like magic. But it’s incredible.
Jameson loves jazz. He wants me to buy him a jazz piano book. Mean Mama says not yet. Read that music, boy, and then we’ll talk.
Jameson also split his chin open and got himself some bright blue stitches.
Beatrice sings every song from The Sound of Music. Also, Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep. All day long. While she twirls in her dress up skirt and does ballet. She quite genuinely thinks she’s the boss, but she’s learning.
William quietly is flying through his kindergarten math work. He loves every opportunity to better his reading skills. He cares for Beatrice and Fiona with tenderness.
There is the usual slacking off with chore diligence, heightened propensity toward bickering, and general end-of-winter troubles. Funny how life will routinely provide you with opportunities to deal with the sin inside. We’ll be happy when grass is growing and all, but right now is a chance to look at ourselves frankly and say, “Lord, change me.”
I wrote today’s date in my journal this morning and sort of choked on the truth: One more week of the month that I swear just started.
I’m glad to have taken a few photos of our doings, because these moments that I cherish? They are gone before I know it.
Basketball that is serious…
and just good fun. (Thanks, Dad, for taking these pictures!)
Playing at Nana and Papa’s house with cousins.
Learning to be a big girl.
Winning our hearts.
Being astounded by the whiteness, the brightness, and the bright blue sky reflected on fields of snow.
Brilliant.
Loving being a mother to this one, my oldest, as he leaves the world of Little Boy behind. But not completely. His freckles are still Norman Rockwell, and his hand always ready to hold mine.*
Orange is his favorite color. And never fails to be the perfect contrast to North Country skies.
And on stormy days, I can usually figure out where he’s wandered to.
Catching snowflakes on tongue. Letting them collect on my bare head. Loving that the world looks like it’s veiled, viewed through vellum. That’s what I always imagine, anyway.
And this. No words.
Okay, maybe one: bursting.
*****
*And, regarding that joyful son of mine? Last Thursday evening I was tucking them into bed, telling them that Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day!
And Jameson said, “Four party days in a row?!”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Saturday is basketball. Sunday is church, and then Monday is the first day of a brand new week!!”
Are you kidding? This kid is the best. His melancholy brother and I are very blessed to have him in our lives.