I see the moon, Mommy!!!

and it's small!  and it's white!
Mama's in the clean plate club...
Head on my shoulder, leaning into my arm, gentle touches and soft pats...
MOMMY! Are Nana and Papa going bye-bye's in our car?
MOMMY!!  Are we painting our pumpkins today?
MOMMY! Are we going bye-bye's today?  Are we going to a bouncy house today?

I cannot possibly make this stuff up...

EVER.
Mondays. are. stupid.
When I get to heaven, I'm going to have a good long talk with the Lord and tell Him that I think He should have just skipped right over day 1 and gone to day 2.
I am so not kidding.
I'll entertain you with the Monday before last, better known as...
HORRIBLE RED HALLOWEEN MAKE-UP DAY.
I bet you think there are pictures forthcoming.  Nope. Not one.  I was entirely too traumatized to even consider it.
For those of you that know me well, you are well aware that my sweet little children (or anyone for that matter) talking to me or expecting my attention first thing in the morning is essentially the same as the president pushing the little red button that sets off a nuclear holocaust...
Now, imagine that type of personality waking up to the following:
Red. Halloween. Makeup.  ALL OVER MY TWINS.  Smeared on their sheets, ground into the bath towels, swirled across the cabinets, dotted onto the CUSTOM MADE bedskirts and quilts, and finally, last but not least...ON THE FREAKING CARPET.  IN MY HOUSE.  RED HALLOWEEN MAKE-UP.
Oh, it gets better.
I will spare you the details of my reaction, lest one of you call CPS, and keep you distracted by the REST of the event.
Apparently Mercy & her loyal sidekick Max had awoken at TWO-THIRTY in the morning and had spent the 4 hours between that and 6:30 when I awoke to my own personal holocaust doing the following:
Stealing Eva's iPod and watching BRATZ on Netflix. (Truly, this was worse than the stupid make-up.  Bratz are simply disgusting and make me vomit in my mouth just a little...)
Raiding the pantry for candy, eating it, leaving the wrappers and detritus ALL OVER THE BLOODY HOUSE...
Retrieving a step stool to get Eva's make-up and nail polish basket, then using ALL of it...
Conducting their own "School Day" with markers, paint, tape and glue...(I will say they actually did their letter activity...)
Pouring, then dumping under their beds, Cheerios.
Lollipop sticks STUCK to my carpet.
And, finally,
WAKING ME UP TO THIS.
Many loads of laundry, showers, carpet cleaning, vacuuming, sweeping, trash collecting, deep breathing exercises later...
I have realized that my child and her sidekick are frighteningly resourceful and bright and I am simply TERRIFED of the teenage years.  And all the years in between...and after!
I told you I couldn't make this up.

Shall we move on to the following monday?
I was a little frustrated with my day.  Well, let's be honest here...
My day was in the proverbial crapper.
So, I decide this would be a good time to take apart my nasty barstools to drop the cushions off to be cleaned, as I have reached my tolerance level for the nastiness factor.  (That is an understatement.  My level of Type A is probably in the DSM IV as certified lunacy...)
On my way there, I happen to get caught in the afternoon traffic of the high school letting out.
Take a moment here.  Sit down.  Do NOT eat anything before you read this, as you my spit it out or choke and I have no desire to be responsible for your mess and/or choking...
I'm just tooling along in my SO NOT COOL mom van, watching the traffic as all these kids try to figure out how to merge onto Queens Creek Rd.
Well, one IDIOT in particular decides to careen into the turn lane while HIS STUPID IDIOT PASSENGER is hanging out/sitting on passenger side window goofing off and yelling at the car behind him.
Uh, I think not.
So, what does this SO NOT COOL mom van driver do?
She stops traffic.
And yells at said STUPID IDIOT kid.
And the driver of STUPID IDIOT kid.
And the kid behind him.
What teenager thinks it would be wise to argue with a crazy lady driving a van with FIVE kids who stops traffic to yell at him & his friends?
That one.  This leads me to my favorite part of this story.
When the stupid kid FINALLY shuts up and puts his seat belt on.  After I've told him I can wait ALL DAY and that I'm not the least bit concerned about the traffic (including school buses) that is backed up to 24, he put his seat belt on.
And that was really all I wanted.  Because that stupid boy has a mom, one who loves him.  One who doesn't want to have a state trooper show up to tell her he isn't coming home.
SO, this crazy mom stopped traffic.  And I'd do it again.

Mondays.
Dear God,
Please remove mondays from your schedule.  They stress me out.
Love,
Crazy Clan Mac Mama



 

Dear Mom,

I know you think birthdays just aren't all that exciting anymore...Truthfully, you'd probably rather they not come at all.  I know you feel that way, but...we don't.
We love your birthday.  It reminds us every year of how grateful we are to have you as our Mom/Nanny.  We love to celebrate and sing, eat cake with you and remember all the fun ways we have celebrated in years past...you know, like the year we surprised you with a huge party by Mark telling you he just had to go home because he had to POOP.   I will never forget the look on your face or how much fun we had celebrating YOU.
Without you, Mom, there would be no us.  No Mark, or Sam, or Me.  No grandkids to love on, laugh at/with and spoil.  There would be no late night kitchen therapy sessions, no marathon shopping days, no Disney memories (E rides & grandkids!,) no movie saturdays or pedicure trips, no Turkey day feasts with all the trimmings, (we'll just bypass the septic tank year in that memory....,) no Christmas rosettes or holly cookies, no tiny little Santa presents under our trees, no jingling of the sleigh bells as Santa rides away, (well...that was Dad, but I'm sure you were in on it!,) no Easter baskets overflowing with treats, no marathon pool days and crazy parties...
Without you, Mom, the world would be just. so. boring.
You are the glue, the sticky tac, the stitching...that which holds us all together.
For that, my Mama, I am just so thankful. I am thankful for all the memories, the laughter, the tears, the joys and sorrows, the good and the bad.  I love you more than I can ever put into words.
You're the best, Mom and we wish we were there to see you cry while you read this.  But...since I've been making you cry since 1971, I've got a pretty mental image of you right now.  :-)
Happy Birthday to my....beautiful, amazing, wonderful, marvelous, fantastic, inspiring...
Mom.
We love you!!
Tiffers, Charles, Eva, Charley, Mercy, Max, & Sam
p.s. this just happens to be on my blog....  :-)  

I am Abraham...

just a WHOLE LOT LESS PATIENT.  Abraham got Isaac, I got Eva writing a paper JUST BECAUSE SHE FELT LIKE IT.
I think I win.
Seriously, if you had ANY clue what the last 3 years of our homeschool journey had entailed, you would agree.
Last year was 24 weeks of sheer grammar and writing torture for both of us.  (No, I don't only do school for 24 weeks, that is how long our writing/grammar class lasts.)   I was so exhausted by May that I just completely dropped my pack mid June and didn't TOUCH anything even remotely school related until we actually started school in late August.  (This is NOT a wise idea...especially when adding 2 more pre-school students to your school on 2 days and 3 more on the other 2 days.  And one of the 3 actually counts as an entire class of pre-schoolers with ADD on a sugar high..."*sigh* sweet Sam...)
Slight explanation...last year was our first year of Essentials, the writing class that is a part of our homeschool program.  It is highly classical, challenging and time consuming.  I cursed it every moment I could last year.  And then...
My child went up EIGHT grade levels in reading comprehension last year.  EIGHT.  The tester re-checked the results twice.
EIGHT.
That is some serious validation.
THEN.  School started again and the first week was great.
And week 2 stunk.
Week 3 made me drink a lot.
Week 4 made me want to play in traffic while drinking a lot.
Week 5 made me want to face plant in a dark chocolate factory while drinking more wine, playing in traffic and snorting caramel.
THEN.
We had our fall break.  That stunk too.
Today, on the 2nd to last day before we start back from break, my child wrote an UNASSIGNED PAPER, using ridiculously cool vocab words, who/which clauses, prepositional phrases, www.asia.because.whatever clauses, narrative language and a whole bunch of other crap that I really didn't think she understood.  Well, clearly she does!
And it was GOOD!!!  (banned word. SHUT UP OTHER ESSENTIALS MOMMIES.)

In addition to said paper, the other kids mostly did school without me yelling, several cool art projects were produced, dinner was made and I didn't wreck it, my kids are clean and hell has not frozen over.

Oh, and Eva got her cast off!
In addition, we have not been late for church in about a month.
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY FAMILY?????
I'm sure it will all fall apart first thing tomorrow, but it was great while it lasted!
Abraham, I know you got Isaac and and you were blessed with a great nation and all that jazz, but seriously?  I win.
Jesus, you rock.  Thanks for being faithful when I am such a loser.
Love,
clan mac mama

p.s. disclaimer about Essentials...anything with a 4th grader involving grammar and writing is torture.  It was one of the best decisions our family has made educationally for Eva and I wouldn't change it if you paid me.  Well, maybe if you paid me A LOT.

Mondays just suck.

Well...mostly.  I would venture to say that I am waxing a bit pessimistic at the moment.  Having to replace the head of your oldest child's American Girl doll to the tune of FORTY dollars, plus shipping, because your middle child just has NO boundaries...
I did not yell.
I did not berate.
I did have to send said middle child to the spare room ALONE for about an hour so I wouldn't yell, berate or otherwise act like a really p*ssed off mama.
I did have to realize that this was probably my fault.  I was just stupid enough to believe that she would actually rest when I told her to and NOT get out of bed and wreak havoc on her older sister's room.  Mind you, she is in Eva's room because I can't let her & Max rest together anymore because THE WONDER TWINS just cannot SHUT UP during quiet time.  So separate them, I must.
Now, the optimist is just screaming that I must post the following...

We finished school today... for all 4 schooled children.  We painted, dot to dot marked, read, made letters, advertised a dog walking business, diagrammed sentences, parsed sentences, learned spelling rules, discussed peacemaking, laced beads, matched numbers, rhymed pictures, reviewed memory work,
My preschool child also made it to school on time, dressed, with a snack and with his picture form.  In the interim, I actually picked up and dropped off 2 MORE children to preschool, ON TIME.  (buy your lottery ticket now... this is a miracle moment...)
I sat in the grass and sucked down half a bottle of wine with my friends while my kids got filthy and my husband had some quiet time.
I wrapped up a fundraiser that raised a good chunk of change for our homeschool group.
My kids were ON TIME for all activities today.

Finally...I just woke up and realized I was in the TWILIGHT ZONE...

Seriously, when your pastor asks you to give him 2 day advance notice for when you plan to be on time for both life group and service, so as not to unduly surprise him during a busy sunday...I AM NOT KIDDING...you know you are epically late...

Well, maybe Mondays don't suck...

That is all.

clan mac mama

Sam's soft little hand...

caresses the side of my face...
His sweet voice declares, "I love you too!"
His gentle little fingers run through my hair...
We rock, to and fro, to and fro...
And I cry.

Mercy's quiet whisper..."Mommy, I'm never ever gonna wipe your kisses off..."
A soft whimper as she cries that she never wants to grow up...
"Mommy, I want to stay with you forever..."
We rock, to and fro, to and fro...
And I cry.

Softly falling grains of sand, slipping through my fingers.
Every moment, every thought, I beg of it to linger.
The sweetness of the end of day,
to recall it all, I pray and pray.
Early morning sleepy boys,
Quietly playing with their toys.
Morning light surrounding each,
For my hand I wish they'd reach.
To feel their velvet baby skin,
And snuggle them gently once again.

"Mommy, you sing to me?"
"Mommy, you rock?"

Tick, tock, tick, tock speeds that clock.

Hold me tight and don't let go,
far too quick, too soon you'll grow.

Softly falling grains of sand, you are slipping through my fingers...
the imprints of my five sweet loves on my heart will linger.

And I cry.

love,
clan mac mama

 

Homeschool Mondays are like a box of chocolates...

you just never know what you're gonna get.  (Picture me, half a bubble off, slowly drawling this out while sucking wine out of my sippy cup with a straw, shoveling in said chocolate and covered in dry erase marker...)

So, the day started innocently enough...  Up at 5 to work out, (mid workout, my little men decide to visit with me and question me EVERY FIVE SECONDS while I am STANDING ON A 14 INCH STEP HOLDING WEIGHTS...) devotions with the hubby & kids, off to pre-school with the little man, patting myself on the back as I pull into the church parking lot an entire FIVE MINUTES EARLY.   (And I haven't forgotten any of the kids today.)  Anyone who has known me for even 5 minutes is aware that FIVE MINUTES EARLY for me is the equivalent of some people achieving the goal of writing a dissertation and receiving a Ph.D.  Seriously.
The many mini Macs unbuckle and begin popping out of the rockin' mom van I drive...(just making sure you understand how NOT COOL I am...) to walk Sammy into school.  As he pops out and lands squarely in the parking lot, I am suddenly aware that he is wearing, *gasp,* FLIP FLOPS!  This is a serious pre-school NO NO.  In addition, I am fully aware that if he does not wear himself out on the playground during school, my big beans will not have math during nap time, as there will be no nap time...thereby causing a loss of essential math skills/mommy sanity, and exponentially increasing my wine intake for the later part of the day, which is NOT in the budget and for which I am NOT prepared.  (I've had a few too many napless days lately, so my wine stores are depleted and my kids are getting stupider.  Yep, that's a word.  I said so and I'm the teacher.)

LORI VINSKUS...are you dying from my ridiculously ranting run on sentence yet??????? bahahaha!

SO.  I determine that I am going to run home to get his shoes and drop them at school.  Meanwhile, I've somehow blamed Eva for the fact that Sam is wearing the wrong shoes, so she is ticked and pouting, I'm fuming and muttering, the littles are in the back YELLING at full volume, and Charley is attempting to discuss her playdate with the other Charlie and is asking me every bloody question under the sun in relation to said playdate.  ARGH!
Ah, but ding, ding!!!!!!  I realize that Sam actually has shoes in his backpack because his GENIUS MOTHER put them there last thursday in case his new shoes were too big.   Wow, I am just so awesome.  NOT.  If I had stopped being a terd to Eva long enough to take a breath, I might have realized this BEFORE I made my oldest feel like poo.    SO, needless to say, I called the school and informed them he actually did have shoes, they just had to switch them out.  Should be smooth sailing from here, huh?
Not.
Wondering what could possibly make my day go awry now???????
Well, just let me tell you.
NAPTIME.  Stupid NAPTIME.  Stupid, stupid, stupid naptime.
Actually, it's really my fault naptime is stupid.
I had the audacity to think that my youngest child should move into a toddler bed because he FINALLY uses the TOY-let and, well, he IS 3.  
This was a really stupid thought.  (No thesaurus used here.  Stupid is just the perfect word for this tale...)
It took all of about 3 days for him to figure out that he didn't HAVE to stay in the bloody bed when I put him down.  This has resulted in the now removed crib side being firmly BUNGEE corded to the toddler bed, thereby preventing the little terd from escaping.  Thereby also keeping me from going insane.
Well, the bungee process did not go well today.  I snapped the stupid cord, scratched the bed and couldn't remember for the life of me how to get the stinking thing done.  Once I finally did jury rig it, I got the other 2 laid down.  WELL, Miss Mercy doesn't really DO nap time.  She just tortures the crap out of me by getting up every 10 minutes or so, which is the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard to me...
Finally, little people decided to rest.  Ahhhh, this MUST be what heaven feels like!  Math gets *almost* done, so off we go to dance.
I have sent Charles to the commissary...so in the midst of all this, my phone is BLOWING UP with texts that query the location of the weird food items I must now eat on my annoying and weird diet of gluten and dairy free food...(this is NOT a choice, I mean, seriously, who chooses to NOT eat fried mushrooms or ice cream?????)
Dance goes well, I pick up Eva and we motor back home to have some outdoor play.  The littles commence fighting over the blue jeep, Charley checks out and starts riding her bike and Eva hops on her scooter....
Fast forward approximately 5 minutes...one scooter mishap later, my oldest bean is whimpering on the grass, holding her wrist, exclaiming, "Mommy, it hurts, it hurts!"
Mind you, my children scream at EVERYTHING.  It doesn't matter if it's a paper cut or a bat over the head (NERF BAT...,)  they are screamers.  Just a few days ago I had given the typical Mom lecture, you know the one.  It's when you tell them that one of these days they'll really be hurt and you won't be sure if you buy it...Well, I'm here to tell ya, when they are really hurt, you just know it.  My screamer was whimpering and I just knew that little wrist of hers had sustained some damage.
A flurry of phone calls to my fantastic friend and pediatrician later and we had come to the conclusion it was most likely broken.  Since we live in the midst of a huge marine base with an overabundance of people who use the ER as regular medical care *ugh,* we conclude that we are splinting and waiting for morning for x-rays and an ortho visit.
One set of x-rays, one buckle fracture, and one Carolina blue cast later....

 SO.  Like I said, homeschooling mondays are like a box of chocolates...you never know what you're gonna get!

love,
me (yep, stuffing my face with chocolate and sippin' my wine...)

A Beautiful Legacy...

3 weeks ago today, on what I though was just an ordinary day, I stood in Cathy's driveway.  Shaken to my core.  Shocked. Sick. Heartbroken.  The unthinkable had happened.  2 of my oldest friends, people who knew me "when...," one of whom stood with Charles and I as we swore our love forever, had just lost their sweet son.  Inexplicably, without warning.  The shockwave that tore through our tiny community was palpable and heavy.

Although the funeral weekend that followed was a blur, one thing stood out in my memory as I prayed for the Hansill family in the ensuing weeks...a video of Kyle teaching a class full of our SBA students about the Salvation we can find ONLY in the sacrifice that Christ made for us.   He had educated the kiddos in the most simple of terms, using stick people, a bridge and the cross.  That was the beauty of it.  Salvation in Christ is just, well, SO SIMPLE.  It doesn't require anything more than faith and acceptance of the ultimate sacrifice that was made so long ago.  

Today, on what I thought again was yet another completely normal, simply ordinary day... I sat in Eva's homeschool co-op class, absentmindedly watching presentations & whispering with the other moms.  As Jacob Caldwell was up for his turn at presentation, Kerry & I stopped chatting to watch.  My heart skipped a beat and we stared at one other in astonishment as it dawned upon us both what Jacob had chosen to share.

He was standing at the board, giving the lesson he had learned from Kyle.  He remembered it, word for word, picture for picture.  His sweet voice was clear, strong, and convicted.  When he finished, he turned, pointed to the 3 people (one fleeing God, one who knows God but doesn't pursue His love and one who accepts His gift of salvation) above the bridge that signifies Christ and said, "I only have one question for you? 

Which one are you?"  

Once Kerry had picked her jaw up off the floor and dried her tears...she exclaimed, "That was NOT what he had practiced!  It was not the story he was going to tell.  I had NO IDEA he was going to get up there and do that!"  (I think she repeated this at least 3 times...)  I was too busy sniffling and staring to even respond...

Today, that boy that loved the Lord with every ounce of his heart spoke through the heart of another boy.  His inspired actions proving once again, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the love of Our Lord is forever, eternal, and omnipotent.

That, my friends, is more than a beautiful legacy.  It's divine.

            love,

            me.

the death of me...

I swear, it's going to be Mercy.  There is a compelling reason God gave me that name for her.  It is because I need an arsenal of HIS GRACE & MERCY to keep her alive until she turns 18.  

That child.  

Seriously.  I could say just that and it should suffice.  All of you have raised/are raising/are related to (have disowned...) a sweet little thing like Miss Mercy.  

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."  Is it bad that I want to yell that at her at least 10x daily?  Probably.  If I was still Catholic, I'd probably hit confession for that one.  (Shoot, I was for 36 years, I can still confess, right?)   

"MERCY ELAINE MCCAWLEY..." followed by a barrage of questions in regards to the latest adventure she has embarked on that results in the demolition of my MAC make-up, the destruction of my beloved school whiteboard, the flurry of salt on the school room floor (mixed with glue...), the PERMANENT stamp ink on the floor/wall/her clothes, the defacement of my walls..furniture...schoolroom...YOU GET THE POINT.  

Oops, I should have named her IVY MARIE WETHERILL!!!!

Ha.  

2 peas in a pod.  

But, stink.  She is so sweet, precious, loving, complimentary, gracious and cute.  I just can't stay mad for longer than, say, 23 out of 24 hours.  So, that ONE hour that I'm not ready to jettison her to boarding school?  IT more than makes up for all the crazy that is my Mercy.  

Occasionally, I'll be so up to my eyeballs that I'll actually make her lie down for a nap.  (I do this knowing full well that she will be a pest when I put her to bed for the night, but I do it to SAVE HER LIFE.)  The other night, after she had napped, I was innocently watching brainless TV.  I hopped up to go borrow some milk from my neighbor and, as I turned to leave my room, I just about died.  There she was...a little statue, silent as stone, sitting in my doorway.  SCARED the stink out of me!!  

"MERCY ELAINE!," I hollered.  Then I picked that sweet little bean up, tucked her back in bed and changed my drawers, since I think I might have peed my pants...

I love that child.  

love, 

me

"Charley, Charley, Charley, CHARLEY...

look at that big, big cloud. It's SO BIG!  Charley, Charley, Charley....LOOK!" hollers Sam from his seat as we're backing in the driveway, heading in from bible study.  His arms pointing, his face alight with the thrill of discovery, unbridled enthusiasm in his voice.  My sweet baby is so grown up... *sad face...*
He potty trained himself in the last few days.  I didn't use a timer, I didn't have a party, I didn't do a single thing except bribe him a bit with M-n-M's and convince him that since he was wearing Scooby undies, he shouldn't poop on Scooby...
That conversation went a little like this...
Me: "So, Sammy.  Look!  Your underwear has Scooby on it!  I have a question...Would Scooby poop on you?"
Sam: "NO!"
Me: "Well then, you certainly shouldn't poop on Scooby then!  It would be really rude."
Sam:  shaking his head yes and looking very serious...
Me:  "Where do you put your poo poo?"
Sam: "In the toilet!!!" (pronounced emphatically...TOY-let!  love this kid...)
Me:  "Will you poop on Scooby?"
Sam:  "NO!"
Me:  "If you go the whole day without pooping on Scooby, I'll buy you a light saber!  And I'll buy Max one too so you can battle each other!"
Sam: "Mommy, I have my light saber now?"
Me: "Only if you don't poop on Scooby!"

End result?  One whole day of no pooping/peeing on Scooby which resulted in $40 spent on light sabers...
Today?  Scooby got pooped on.
I am laughing my butt off right now, since I was happily shopping alone at the commissary while my sweet, unsuspecting husband was trapped in the PX food court bathroom with our 2 sons, one who had pooped on Scooby and the other one who just has to poop in public.  (Flashback to yesterday when I was trapped in the Rack Room Shoes bathroom while both my boys AND MERCY had to poop.)

I am seriously not making this up.  I could not possibly make this up.

I really do love my life.  Especially now that it doesn't involve diapers...
Maybe it's time for #6 & 7?
I'm leaving the little years kicking and screaming, so if anyone would like to send me #6 & 7, please feel free to drop them off with a change of clothes and lots of little angel kisses.

I think I am officially insane.

Happy August! Enjoy the last moments of summer, they'll be gone in a flash!  Just like my little years.
*sad face*

love,
tiff

Homeschooling is...

a funny thing.
I know, I know.  I say lots of things are funny things.  Well, having 5 kids has robbed me of my ability to use a thesaurus correctly, and despite my year of teaching my child to write rather eloquently, I can't seem to find a better way to say it.  SO, Homeschooling really is a funny thing.  (Note the use of the capital H, indicating Homeschooling as proper noun.  As it should be, since I consider homeschooling to be a special, properly crazy thing to do...)
Well, let me begin again.  We are fixing to head into our 4th, (yes, I made it this far...) year of learning at home.  Ironically, it will be the first year I am teaching 4 students.  Yup, just like my family expansion, I am doubling my number of students...Does this mean I can double my wine consumption?  (Well, that's a given.  DUH.)
Having just wrapped up our 3 day practicum with our homeschooling group, Classical Conversations, I find myself in an unexpected place.
I actually didn't NEED this practicum to get motivated this year.
Huh?
Now, let me just preface this by saying that I am not going to write one of those irritating, "Oh my goodness, homeschooling is just the best thing ever and I am just so lucky to be doing this!!!" blogs that make most of us homeschooling harpies want to vomit.
Homeschooling is HARD!  Exhausting, overwhelming, frustrating, time consuming, expensive!
But...it's also pretty stinkin' wonderful.  I (mostly) love spending my days watching my kids learn the things that God designed them for.  I love watching the "lightbulb" go on when they get it.  I love the fact that Charles & I determine the rhythm of our days and the priorities of our lives.  Most of all, I love that I get to follow God's design for raising "arrows."
But, I'll be truthful here...it's taken me almost 4 years to get to the point that I don't need anyone to motivate me, I don't need to dissect the classical model into 800 little parts and I certainly don't need to understand the Quadrivium, (I'm still trying to figure out the bloody Trivium...) to get me all pumped up so I can survive another year.
I'm good.
We (Charles & I) do this because we feel called to!  And... I finally accepted the fact that because He called us to it, He is seeing us through it.  He has surrounded me (& my family) with an extroardinary community of Christian families who endeavor in the same way, for the same reason, to the same end.  We do this because we believe God has called us to.
We do this to raise our children to know God and make Him known.
And, finally, we believe that raising children to love to learn and have the tools to learn whatever God leads them to do is our greatest calling.
Somewhere along the way, in this slightly odd summer, I got it.
So, thank you, Classical Conversations, for your wonderful parent practicums and your amazing staff...but...
This time, I could have just gone to the beach.
And that, my friends, is the best feeling ever.

love,
tiff
p.s. disclaimer here...I love the CC practicums, I love the community, the wealth of knowledge we share, the time with my friends, the joy of a common goal & the time to refresh and recharge, I'm just super pumped that, for the first time ever, I was motivated anyway! HAHA!

Saving Samuel...

for her 7th birthday, Charley gave a gift I couldn't have fathomed in my worst dream...She saved her brother.
Indoor Pool.
Echoes of voices, din of shouting, steam rising.
Mommies chatting, kids playing.
Spiderman everywhere...
littles sitting on the steps.
Shouting!
"Mommy, Sammy is underwater!"
Charley, goggles on, gasping for breath as she pushes him up.
Tolly, pulling him out, flipping him over, making him breathe.
Sammy, pale, eyes glazed, lips blue.
Gasping.
I'm frozen.
I can't write the rest of it without dissolving into tears.  Suffice it to say this.  Charley saved her brother.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, God for giving her eyes to see and the wisdom to know what to do.  Thank you, Jesus, for saving my sweet baby boy.

Amen.

Spring Snow!

Mercy, in wonder at the snow pouring from the sky in late march at my parent's house.  :-)
"Nanny, the frost is coming down!"

Max, my caveman of few words... "I like the snow!".

Sammy..."Mommy, they put snow on your car!" 

He just took me out...

Apparently, I needed a TIME OUT.  

Well, I got one.  For a WEEK.  An entire week of sick.  An entire week to realize how little time I really spend WITH my kids.   This week I taught sewing, watched movies, played games, built Lego cars, assembled puzzles, read stories....

And I loved it.  Thank you, God.  This time out was....

Perfect.  

Now if you'd just take the cough away...I've got the point. :-). 

Outtakes from sick Mommy's Say Yes to the Dress Marathon...

prefacing this with...
I got SO sick over New Year's that I was actually in bed for almost a week.  THAT NEVER HAPPENS. EVER.  So, I coped by watching 8 million episodes of Say Yes to the Dress, which resulted in the following conversation...

Eva:  "Mommy, I know exactly what I want my dress to look like!  

No strap on one shoulder and a strap on the other with pretty, fluffy flowers on it.  Then I want the middle to fit me and then it will flare out here (pointing to her hips) into a BIG skirt." 

very cute, but following by this laughably disturbing exchange after I failed to notice the gaggle of male "bridesmen" accompanying a particular bride...

Eva:  "Mommy, what's a gay bar?  

Me: it's a place where people celebrate & are really happy!  

Finally...

Charley, piping up from her spot on the couch where she is ignoring the show and playing a music game on Eva's iPod:  I'm not wearing a dress when I get married!  

Me: are you going to wear jeans?  

Charley: no. 

Me: cargo pants?  

Charley: No.

Me: well, what ARE you going to wear?  

Charley: a tuxedo!  And I'm going to make alll the boys wear dresses!  

Meanwhile....max is snuggled in next to me taking this entire thing in....

They need to stay little.  For a long time.  

love, 

tiff