jameson: six

This boy is six.

SIX.

We celebrated his birthday on the actual day (the 15th), but then had a “big” birthday party this past Saturday. This was his first big party, and BOY was he excited! We decided on a knight theme, and then had so much fun finding plates and stickers and prize gifts with knights and castles. In classic Jameson style, he had every moment of this party mapped out in his mind — knew just how he wanted this and that to look, what games he wanted to play, and even drew an elaborate tunic (after a style he noticed on Guy of Gisbourne, which I sadly did not have time to execute). Planning, preparing, and celebrating with Jameson is just so much fun.

And that fully-clad knight in the photo above? Well, that’s how he appeared in my room before dawn the morning of his party. So much fun.

He’s also tall and lanky. He constantly acts without thinking, yet is extremely thoughtful. On his birthday, he blessed me by making my bed. (Since my sisters are wondering: Yes, I had to go back and re-make it before actually sleeping in it.) He’s full of life and brings that vivacity with him, everywhere he goes. It’s amazing. His humor is developing into that of a young boy — teasing, sarcastic, puns, you name it. He loves to talk about what it will be like when Jesus comes back, and about heaven. Will he go back to being a baby in heaven? Does it rain there? Hearing him practice piano is my recent favorite thing. Having someone play the piano while I’m washing the dishes — even if it just Hot Cross Buns — is such a blessing, and he loves to play. He’s also catching onto the reading thing, breezes through math, and could care less about proper penmanship. He’s super sharp, and hears and remembers everything I say — with the grand exception of, “SIT ON YOUR CHAIR, YOUNG MAN.” That one thing gets repeated at every meal, numerous times. Oh, he makes me want to pull my hair out, and then laugh until I cry. He is a great, great kid.

I’m trying really, really hard to just stay in the moment. To give myself completely to the things God’s asked me to today, but can I just say, the end of this past summer has been sad for me? My firstborn son enjoyed his last truly little boy summer. And he was the best little boy.

Jameson, you make me love being a mama.

new things

It’s Friday evening. Inside, there’s the peace of sleeping children; outside, a chorus of crickets. (I love that so much!) Tonight, I’m tired. My feet ache, my eyes burn, tired. But that’s okay. You’re supposed to be tired on Friday night. Especially when it marks the end of a packed-full-of-new-starts week:

On Monday, Beatrice started walking. She’d been taking a couple of steps here and there for several weeks — and then Monday morning, she just got a fire in her eyes and walked across the room. We’ve been highly entertained by her adorable, tipsy walking all week long. Do I have any videos of this adorable walk? Of course not! She drops to her hands and knees the minute I pull out my phone. It really is cute. And shocking — I’m still caught off guard when I look up and she’s walking down the hall. My baby is growing up.

On Tuesday, we implemented a new fall routine. I’d worked on it a few weeks ago, trying so hard to sort out priorities for this year and make room for it all. I finally got it all squeezed into 5 24-hour slots. Phew. Then Ryan casually said, “As long as you still have plenty of time for Bible reading,” and I read somewhere that one should consider “starting your day slowly.” Ugh. I knew I hadn’t quite gotten the priorities accurately sorted. So I went back to the drawing board, asking the Lord to help me let go of the unnecessary “good” things — and I feel like He really did. Granted, it’s only been a week, but still — I’m shocked by how much “slow” time there has been each morning. Time to smile, to wake up a bit slowly with a book and an afghan, to eat a real breakfast, to slip in a few minutes outdoors before gathering at the table. Starting our days with that sort of pace just seems to help us.

I am walking. Thirty minutes, early in the morning, I have been slipping out the door for some exercise. It’s working. There are some seasons when fitting in any form of exercise has seemed like an insurmountable impossibility. But right now, with these three kids at these ages, it’s working. I’m really happy.

Wednesday was our first day of school. Books have been arriving via UPS for weeks, but I kept them tucked away in my closet. On Tuesday night, I tied them up with ribbons and slipped a card for each boy into their stack. It was like Christmas. They couldn’t wait to start! Jameson is in 1st grade, and is eager to learn to read. William is happy to be included at the table with all sorts of pre-K activities. Along with reading, math, history, and science, Jameson is starting piano lessons. He is over the moon excited about that! He slips away to the piano all through the day, happily practicing his two-black-key songs. It’s pretty cute!

This isn’t exactly new this week, but it’s still relatively new: Ryan’s got a beard. He’s very worried I’ll get him mixed up with George Clooney, but so far, I’ve been able to keep them straight. I think he looks very handsome.

The best new start of the week, by far, was the one that happened every morning — or even more often, depending on how regularly I needed to stop and start over. How thankful I am for grace that never gets old, for mercy that makes all things new.

family vacation

On July 28th, after weeks of anticipation, our little family packed our van with everything “fun” and drove to a little cottage on a lake. It was the best.

Quiet, focused, away, invested, purposed, connected, together. I put my phone in a cupboard and seldom retrieved it. My laptop got pulled out one late night when I thought I might do a bit of birthday shopping. Otherwise, it was just Ryan and the kids. I looked at little faces and enjoyed every freckle; watched boys play and didn’t ever jump up to do the IMPORTANT THING I FORGOT; listened to Ryan because he had time to think and talk. We wondered if we’d go a little crazy, stuck in a spot in the woods for an entire week. Nope. I could see ourselves unwinding for the first two days — slowly losing the go-go-go, slowly forgetting how to feel minutes ticking, learning how to let days roll by without any concern about what was next.

Jameson and I were in the lake every morning, as bright and early as we could manage. (There’s nothing like having devotions in the warm morning sun after a quick dip.) We watched for the loons that would occasionally swim by, their funny calls alerting us to their presence. William played for hours in the shallow water. Ryan took everyone for boat rids, including three one-kid-at-a-time trips (which were, of course, a highlight.) We ate every meal outside — but then, where else would you eat hotdogs roasted over the fire? Jameson discovered that kayaking is every bit as wonderful as he’s dreamed it to be. We all enjoyed the lakeside hot tub. We got water in our ears. The sunscreen worked like a charm, so it’s obvious who didn’t use it [*cough* Ryan *cough*]. I read a whole book. We packed games and movies and books in case of rain, but every single days was sunny.

There were lots of “I love you”s. There were also lots of “Thank You so much, God”s.

[more pics]

a little bit of everything

Beatrice, out on Kevin and Liz’s boat

July 17th is a big deal this year: Beatrice is eleven months old today, and next month, we start counting by years. We are all so in love with this happy, spunky, silly girl. The feeling is mutual, of course. She loves her brothers and adores her daddy. The funny thing about being the mom is that love is simply assumed. She crawls after the boys and works so hard to get a laugh from Ryan, but me? She just knows I’m here. Being a mama is such a privilege.

Watching this afternoon’s storm come in

It’s raining.* This is also a big deal. Our grass is so dry that walking on it hurts. Worse, crops are dying of thirst. Needless to say, the sound of rain as I woke up thrilled me. I do not begin to have the emotional stamina and resiliency needed for farming, but the closer I get to my local farms through greater dependency on them for food, the more I get to share in those ups and downs. Hats off to them.

Pretty breakfasts are one of my favorite things

I got to read through Animal, Vegetable, Miracle again, since one of the moms groups at church decided upon that book for a fun summer read. Second time through, I caught little things I missed the first time. One thing Kingsolver pointed out was that while Good Eating is full of positives in many cultures (think Provence, Tuscany…), Good Eating in the States is a food culture of negatives: you can’t have dessert. Drink skim milk. Low sodium cold cuts for you. Freezer meal while your family eats KFC. And largely, I think that’s true. If my friends and I have a conversation about healthy eating, what gets talked about? What we can’t eat. I realized that part of what I’ve so enjoyed about creating a home for my family has been defining a good and positive food culture. Instead of depriving ourselves of yumminess and calling it healthy, we’re eating delicious food that celebrates taste and health. Guess what? God wants us to be healthy, and He didn’t bother creating a Crystal Light plant in the Garden of Eden — so maybe there are actually yummy ways to be healthy. Right?

Of course, that idea of “good” being a concept riddled with negativity made me think about so many other things. How often does our meditation on a “good and holy” God turn into thoughts of what isn’t holy instead of what is? After mulling this over for weeks, and thinking about how I want to live a life of “I get to!” in front of my kids, I read C. S. Lewis’ words on the subject. He, naturally, says it much better than I ever could:

If you asked twenty good men to-day what they thought the highest of the virtues, nineteen of them would reply, Unselfishness. But if you asked almost any of the great Christians of old he would have replied, Love. You see what has happened? A negative term has been substituted for a positive, and this is of more than philological importance. The negative ideal of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love. The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self-denial as an end in itself. We are told to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire. If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. [more…]

Pirates, sleeping in our very own yard!

Today I dropped off my IHIP — required by the state of NY for home schooled children. All spring and summer, thoughts about next year’s school has occupied a place on the back burner of my mind. Now, heading into summer’s end, it’s time to move thinking into planning. Not that first grade is terribly complicated or taxing — but still, there are priorities to sort and Big Rocks to put in first, because how quickly our jars fill with the pebbles of life.

I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to teach Jameson at home. The further along this road called Family that I find myself, the more I realize how much there is to reevaluate, and how much lives outside the box. Another brief side note Kingsolver makes in her book is the observation of the school year: children originally had the summer off because their families needed their help during planting and harvest. Yes. School doesn’t need to rule our lives; it should fit into and enhance our lives. That made me stop and ask: How do our children fit into this family? And how does school fit into that? We have the incredibly daunting responsibility of shaping and equipping children to become young men and women of ethic, honor, and function. I’m so very thankful to know that God has called us and God has anointed us in this endeavor.

*I wrote this post this morning, and then the rain returned in force this afternoon. Hopefully the farmers were blessed, and the people in Potsdam certainly had a fair share of excitement!

bits

Since the beginning of May, I have only eaten dessert, or sweets of any kind, a few times on a few special occasions. This is amazing for me. I feel like I’ve climbed Mt. Self Control for the first time ever.

…and then tonight I had to make dessert for our church picnic and caved. I ate a cookie.

Those cookies get me every time!

*****

One special occasion was last week when we went strawberry picking. All three kids, in the middle of the afternoon, trying to find a place I’d never heard of. Beatrice decided to try out a new facet of her personality and cried her head off, William cut his finger on a blade of grass and joined her, and Jameson sat happily in the middle of strawberry plants declaring how much fun he was having. That kid is a keeper.

We brought home 4 quarts — not much, but enough, given the howling that was our soundtrack.

And Jameson helped me make a strawberry cake to celebrate strawberry season. (Since they’ve been deprived of baked goods since my attempts at cutting out dessert, they were especially excited about this cake!)

*****

That night, I also made Ina Garten’s grilled chicken. It was, as all of her recipes are, fabulous. Full of flavor, and really easy. Mashed potatoes (with plenty of whole milk and butter, of course!), and salad from right outside our door finished off the meal. It really was a wonderful celebration of summer’s beginning.

*****

Another big hit? Jamie Oliver’s Chicken Tikka Masala — or at least a version of it. I used chicken thighs and cooked it in the oven at 250* for a couple of hours, but otherwise followed the recipe fairly closely. The cilantro lime rice is a must.

Did I mention that cilantro is taking over my little herb plot? It is. And we love it.

*****

I’m so proud of William. He’s not quite as adventurous as his brother, and that’s putting it mildly. Last year, he spent the entire summer watching people swim from the comfort of dry ground. This week, he went from barely being comfortable dipping his feet in, to being happy climbing in and out all by himself, and letting me help him “swim”. Most of all, it’s fun to see his eyes shine and realize how proud he feels to have accomplished so much.

*****

I pulled out a Copland piece today for the first time in…years. Jameson heard me, and quickly assembled an eclectic assortment of household items that he transformed into percussion. I couldn’t believe how quickly he understood the (modern, sounds-like-chaos to most people) music and figured out how to appropriately add strums and cymbals and such.

*****

Meanwhile, Beatrice is busy getting callouses on her feet — on the tops of her feet, that is. Crawling babies get so dirty, too! She has a self-appointed roll as household floor cleaner, and very seriously picks up every speck and fuzz and eats it. She’s also been introduced to some real food (so, really, shouldn’t she realize that dryer lint is just not worth eating anymore?) and has loved it all. Chicken, salmon, snap peas, lettuce from the garden that she picks when I’m not looking… She’s very eager to be included in our meals. And I just think, Really? Really, you weren’t just born?

*****

Long days of sunshine, long days of work for Ryan, long days of pools and walks and watering thirsty plants. Living the best we know how, loving that He upholds us.

He is good.

busy? oh yes. we are.

June’s calendar is so much emptier than May’s. Somehow, though, the days just fill up. Maybe not quite so much scrambling. Maybe a bit more of the sprinkler-running, bike-riding, kid-training, home-being variety. Not to mention the all-consuming growing-up busyness. These kids grow like weeds, hit new strides, try new words, learn new tricks EVERY DAY. I love ’em bunches.

Breakfast with my boys while Daddy was busy working.