Today was a Great Day

Today was a great day. I needed a great day. I have had some good days here and some bad days here, but today was a great day. Two weeks ago, I was lying in the floor of my closet in the fetal position bawling and crying out: “I hate this place. I want to go home!” I have had some hard days here in the Bahamas. No, it is not all frolicking on the beach and enjoying the peace and quiet of island life…but today was…and it was great.

We spent most of the morning and into the early afternoon at Taino Beach Resort. It was wonderful. We went there for breakfast two weeks ago, but a storm rolled in while we were eating, and we were unable to enjoy the resort. If you patronize the restaurant, you can use the resort. We went back today to “cash in” on our breakfast deposit we made two weeks ago.

Our first stop (with rain coming in slowly…boo) was the pool. Found a shady spot for Will to nap, found a covered area for me to lounge and read, and Donny went exploring the pool area with the big kids. It was great. I got to relax in the shade in the middle of this beautiful resort, and it was wonderful. I am made for resorts.

The cloud cover started to clear after about an hour, so we headed to the beach. Again, wonderful. We found a shaded umbrella/hut/cabana-like area where we could park our stuff. By the time we got out to the beach, Will was ready for nap #2, so I laid out a towel, and off he went into “La La Land.” I wasn’t too far behind. The boys headed out to snorkel, Millie played happily on the beach, and after playing with Millie a little, I set up shop in a lounge chair with my book.

The beach was pretty. The water was beautiful. It was a postcard moment.

Then my postcard changed…to one of those sketchy ones you seen in a run-down beach trinket shop, because the gal in the cabana next to ours decided to tan topless. Really? The boys stayed out in the water the whole time, so there was no harm done, but I really could have done without topless Tammy. I understand that it’s culturally acceptable in some places, and that’s fine, but it does not seem to be the norm here. It’s funny. I felt like a mother hen making sure that I was ready to hop up to ask her to cover up if Donny and Hunter headed back. Unfortunately, I felt a little stressed about it, so I wasn’t as relaxed as I would like at that point. Oh well. It was still a great day.

We headed from the beach to the supermarket to get fun beverages for the family. In the States my post-beach routine is to get a Slurpee from 7-11. Since that is not possible here, we went to the market, I took the kids in, and they got to choose their very own 20oz. bottle (a very special treat in our family). Millie chose Grape Fanta, and Hunter chose Strawberry Fanta. I, of course, got a Diet Coke and got Donny a Ginger Ale. It was fun to let the kids pick whatever they wanted. An added treat on this very great day.

Once home, we declared no naps and let the kids watch a movie. They chose a “Tom and Jerry” video (they LOVE Tom and Jerry), we put Will down, and I headed to the grocery. Not my favorite part of the day but oh so much better when I’ve been relaxing resort-style all morning.

We had dinner together. The kids are in bed, and here I am blogging. Thankful for days like today. I have had some hard days and some good days. Today was a great day.

Really sweet...but they never hold hands like this.

Hunter found a tiny frog at the pool.

Beach Buddies

Donny and Hunter heading out to snorkel

Trying to make it into more pics.
Hunter was the only one willing to pose with me today. Sweet him.

Under our "umbrella" - Will napping on the left, Donny and the kids out in the ocean, and my lounge chair awaiting me...aaaaahhhhh.

The view from my chair. Aaaaaahhhhhh. What a great day.

William Oliver - 6 Months Old

July 2, 2011 - 6 months old

Six months. Still so in love. Even now just thinking about what to type about Will I am getting teary-eyed. Each of my children is so very special to me. My journey with Will has left me the most exposed. It took this third child to break me of my thoughts that I have it all together. Cause I don’t…and I thought I did with Hunter and Millie. If you are reading this and knew me when Hunter and Millie were babies, I’m sorry if I seemed like I knew everything and had it all together. I don’t.

Will is such a sweetheart at six months. I am taking him next week to have him weighed, but I think he is doing well in terms of nursing and growing. I haven’t been truly confident of his nursing/weight gain one single day of these six months, but our pediatrician has always said he is right where he should be. I haven’t been supplementing with anything in this last month, so his weight check next week should tell me if all is well…which I really, really hope (and think) it is.

Just over a week ago Will found his toes. It’s one of my favorite baby discoveries. I think it’s so funny when they get amused with themselves, and right now his toes amuse him. He can reach and grab most any toy we dangle in front of him. He's not a big fan of tummy time. He doesn’t complain. He just assumes the sleep position. That’s how Hunter and Millie were too, so he’ll get around to hanging out on his belly eventually.

Will is still nursing during the day about every 3 hours. That is VERY different from my experience with Hunter and Millie. By 6 months, they were eating every four hours and eating 5 times per day. Will eats every three hours and gets about 6 (sometimes 7 feedings) per day. He doesn’t always wake up to eat, so he could probably go longer between feedings, but I have been questioning my milk supply, so I have been feeding him more frequently during the day to make sure he is getting enough. He has had a hard time falling asleep at night since we moved to the Bahamas, and I have figured out that nursing him to sleep almost always helps. Yes, you read it, I have been (on occasion) nursing him to sleep (gasp)…even if it’s not time to eat (double gasp). And if he wakes up in the middle of the night (which thankfully has decreased in frequency since we got here), I get up to nurse him. There’s not much he’s crying out these days. He’s my third. We’ve had a rough go of it, and I would rather help soothe him with cuddles and nursing rather than letting him cry it out. Will I pay for it down the road? I really don’t think so, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I really could sit and stare at him all day. His eyes are so big and beautiful. His smiles and noises are thrilling. I still feel like I could burst.

Sweet Will, I love you more than I can say. Six months ago right now I was gathering things to head to the hospital not really believing that it was time for you to come. God, in his sovereignty and grace, knew that it was time. He knew that I needed to be broken and have my heart exposed in ways that could only come with you surprising us with an early arrival. I hold you tighter and snuggle with you longer because of our surprising journey. I was going to call it “not normal,” but it has been God’s normal for us. You and your timing was God’s very best for us. As we enter an uncertain time for our family and Daddy seeking a pastoral call, I pray I will draw on what I have learned from God’s timing and plan with you to know that God’s timing and plan for us with this new stage of life will be perfect. I am so thankful I have you to hold everyday as a reminder of his good plans. I love you, dear Will. My heart overflows and words cannot express. I have been surprised by how much love I could feel for you. Happy six months. They have been six of the hardest and sweetest months I have known, and I treasure every moment of your sweet life.

January 2, 2011 - 5 weeks, 1 day early...

...perfect in God's timing.

April 2, 2011 - 3 months old

July 2, 2011 - Hunter - 6 1/2, Will - 6 months, Millie - 4

What a blessing you are to your Mommy. I love you so much.

Bahamian Soccer Camp

(Written on Thursday, June 30, 2011)

Hunter began soccer camp on Monday. It is a Bahamian camp led by a traveling British group. We didn’t hear about it until last Saturday, talked with Hunter about it on Sunday, and sent him on Monday. It lasts from 9:00 a.m. – 3:00 p.m. He’s never done any one activity like that for such a long stretch of time, so we were curious as to how he would like it and handle it. He’s done great! He has made some friends (which is great, because he is the only boy his age at church), so I am looking forward to getting a few phone numbers from those families to try to get the boys together once camp is over. I think he has enjoyed the independence. Even today, on day 4, I still wanted to hug him a little longer before he headed across the field to start the day with his team. I could tell that he was trying to humor me but was also ready for me to go (sniff, sniff).

One of the great benefits of soccer camp has been the quality time I have had with Millie (and Will) this week. While Will has napped, Millie and I have had a great time doing her nails, letting her paint with a new art set, making lunch for Daddy, going to the beach…and just enjoying the car rides to and from camp. Donny had the morning off today, so we took her and Will out for lunch at KFC and then to explore the city a little. It was a fun time enjoying our little girl in ways that you just can’t when siblings are competing for attention.

(continued writing this morning, Saturday, July 2, 2011)

I have been having a hard time finding a groove here in Freeport. The days are hot, and there is not much indoor fun to be had here. Since we did not bring a lot of toys with us from home, the kids get bored easily. My creativity is certainly being tested. Soccer camp came at a great time. It forced me into a daily routine, and it forced me to get into town on a daily basis where I could learn the city and the grocery stores a little better. I even got my gas tank filled (which is different…they have gas attendants that do it for you). I also found a few unexpected sales at the stores which, of course, thrilled my deal seeking heart.

It has been a good week. VBS at church awaits us next week. I will be thankful for another week of a routine. I also look forward to quiet mornings with Will.

I am really proud of Hunter. This was a big week which could have been really hard for him. He had a great attitude all week. He told us all about learning how to dribble and kick the ball better. He enjoyed lunches of pizza, hot dogs, and chicken and rice (random). He got to drink lots of punch and other sugary drinks we normally don't let him drink in such large quantities (very proud he got to have his own bottles of them). He was sure to tell me when he chose to play soccer with the big kids rather than take a break to go swim. He confidently ran across the field on that first morning to join the group of 6-18 year olds. My little boy still needs me...but not as much as he used to...and he'll need me even less as he grows. I know he'll always need me...but he is growing up. I love watching it, and it makes me sad at the same time. Lord, grow my boy into a man who loves you and others. Help him be strong and caring, know right and do it, and rely on you for everything. Amen.

Ready for his first day.

Day 2 - Of course, I had to get a pic in the blue uniform

While Hunter was gone, Millie enjoyed painting...

and getting her nails done...

and going on a date to KFC with Mommy, Daddy and Will.

Hunter with his new friend, Carson.

Hunter and Coach Mary...a great coach for him!

It's Not Totally Foreign but It's Far From Home

I've been eating a lot tonight. It's not been healthy. I knew I had a problem when I was eating the remains of tonight's Mac and Cheese from the pot with the black serving spoon. I am emotional. Not crying emotional. I am past that. It's the "I feel so weird I have no clue what to do next" emotional. I feel a little numb...which seems kinda unemotional. Donny is actually at Wendy's right now getting us dessert. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I had no need for dessert...and I'll probably need it eventually...cause we aren't going anywhere.

We landed in the Bahamas over a week ago on Friday, June 10. We were welcomed wonderfully by a whole host of people from the church where Donny is serving as interim pastor. Truly, the people could not be more warm, hospitable, or friendly. We have been invited to dinner and for playdates at the pool. Our home is wonderful...one of the nicest we have ever lived in...but it's not home. When I walk out the doors it feels so weird. A neighborhood in the middle of the bush. I can buy anything I want to here. It's more expensive, but it's fine. I mean, Donny's on his way home from Wendy's. Life is not hard. But life is also not easy.

I have been so tired. I wish I could understand why. I don't have anything to do. Of course I have my three darling children. I have lots to do with them, but when there is calm or some peace in the house, all I want to do is climb back into bed.

Welcome to culture stress. I think I skipped culture shock. There's not too much that is shocking. The landscape is a little shocking. Unless you are right on the water, Freeport feels like being in the middle of nowhere...in the bush. Small town. Not much around. You can get to the grocery and get what you want, but I have lived the last four years in Orlando (the last year of which I lived really near downtown). Life was bustling. Life was busy. I like busy and bustling. Here we are with not much of our stuff. It was nice the first few days. Now I am trying to figure out what to do with myself and my kids. I have packed up my family for the summer before, but this time feels so different. Not sure why. Trying to find some answers.

Right now I want to take these things to the Lord, but I feel pretty distant. This semester has deepened my trust in him and his power and sovereignty, but I feel like we haven't really connected in so long that I have no idea how to be real or personal with God right now. Whew, how's that for honest? I am stuck. I am stuck on an island in intense heat. With few friends. Only a few places to go. A baby, a four year old, and a six year old that are just hard to take places most of the time. Being in God's will is where I want to be, and I am confident that we are following him as a family...I just am at a loss right now for how to walk with him personally. It's like reuniting with a dear friend but you awkwardly can't figure out what to say...awkward...that's how I feel.

Our stuff is somewhere in a pod in Orlando. We packed it all up. We are officially homeless. And Donny has applications in for full-time positions mostly in the northeast. I'm from Tennessee. The northeast is a foreign land to me. Who knows where we will end up, but any sense of "home" feels very, very far away.

So here I am. The Lord has a lot to teach me this summer. I will go to him and hope he will answer and that I will find him personally as I seek him. I know I belong to him and to heaven, and I will be "at home" someday. For now, however, I struggle with feeling homeless and a foreigner. And I will seek the Lord in the struggle.

For anyone wondering...the Bahamas is not always paradise. At least not right now for me. And so I will work out my faith as I look to a future paradise while living in this unfamiliar paradise.

And I will try not to eat so much.

Done

Donny had his final exam today. His final exam in his seminary career. Final. The End. Nada. It's over. I really can't believe I am typing these words. Graduation is on Friday, and I am sure that will bring with it another blog post, but I needed to write some things now. It's late on Wednesday night. I just put Will down after his dream feed. We have had a hard week of nursing issues again...not gaining enough weight...milk supply low...it's been hard. But that's another blog post (or hopefully just a small blip in this process).

It's done. We will go to RTS tomorrow night for the graduation banquet, and that will be the last time Donny will be on that campus as a student. After Friday night he will be an alumnus. Aaaaaagh!!! I really can't believe it's here.

It is really late, and I am too tired to write very much. I just need the small bloggy world that reads this (and me when I look back on this) to know how very proud I am of my husband. He has worked harder than I have ever seen him work in his life. Throughout seminary, Donny has been an excellent student, husband, father, man, intern, and more. I told him on Saturday while we were on a little lunch date that I as long as I have loved him, I have always loved him...but I LOVE the man he has become over these 3 years...the man God has made him to be. I am excited to step into the next chapter of life and ministry with him. He has proven himself so trustworthy. I will follow him wherever the Lord leads next (which, at this point, could be anywhere from New Hampshire to Miami or somewhere in between...but first with a stop in Freeport, Bahamas).

I am praying that I will soak in every moment of graduation. It's gonna be a rite of passage for me as well. It's been hard being the wife of a seminary student...but I wouldn't trade it. We were told by Mike Milton that seminary is a "tithe of our lives." It would be a time of study and preparation for a lifetime of ministry. This giving of ourselves to this work of preparation for God's call in ministry has been so rich. Thank you, Lord. Praise God from whom all blessings flow...

August 18, 2008 - Donny's first day of classes at RTS

Donny with Hunter (3 yrs, 11 months) and Millie (16 months) before his first day of classes

May 11, 2011 - Donny on his way to his last day of class at RTS

Easter 2011 - And now we are a family of five.
A lot changes in three years, and we could not be more thankful.

The Things They Say...

Just finished disciplining my sweet Millie. As she was preparing to receive the consequences for her disobedience, she declared:

I'm allergic to this part.

Oh, the things they say.

Fighting...

Fighting. That word best describes what I feel the last four months of my life have been about. Fighting. I hate that I feel that way. I would much rather the words "soaring" or "resting" or "enjoying" be the main descriptive of 2011. Nope. Fighting.

What have I been fighting? Really, it's not that I have been fighting anything. It's more that I have been fighting for something...and that something is my boy. My Will. From the moment I started feeling weird on the morning of January 2, knowing that something had definitely changed in my body and in my pregnancy, I have been fighting. I have been fighting for my son and for our bond.

While I was in labor, I was already fighting the grief over being done with my pregnancy. I actually enjoyed this pregnancy, and that's a first for me. I was (and still am in some ways) sad that it was cut short by pre-term labor. I know it's not my fault, nor is it Will's fault. It just happened. But it took something from me that I wanted to enjoy a little longer. And some of that disappointment affected my initial bond with Will. I wrestled with disappointment that he came too early and that I didn't get to finish out this pregnancy that I felt had been so different and such fun. And, in the midst of that disappointment, I began fighting.

Soon after Will's birth after I got to nuzzle with him for a few minutes, the nurses whisked him away to the NICU...and I was left there alone. Donny with Will in the NICU. Me in a recovery room calling one or two people...but alone. No baby to snuggle or nurse. And I spent most of that first night alone. Donny stayed with Will (and went home to get us some things since we weren't prepared), and I sat there with no baby by my side. He was down a floor and a world away. And the fight went on.

As our time at the hospital and with Will in the NICU progressed, I still found myself disconnected from him. I didn't want to change diapers when offered. I mean, I totally freaked when the nurse asked me for the first time if I wanted to change his diaper. Honestly, I think it was on the night when my own virus (similar to what Will had in the NICU) was at its worst, but I froze. My sister actually did that first diaper change. I just couldn't do it.

The separation in the NICU left me fighting for our bond. So many others got to care for him before I really did. Hooked up to the machines, I was left feeling like I had to ask permission anytime I wanted to hold him...much less nurse him. Through this time, I did learn in a new way how my children are the Lord's and are not my own...but the separation I felt from Will was unbearable at times.

Then the day finally came on January 18, 2 1/2 weeks after his birth, when he got to come home. What I had waited for was finally happening. All should be well. I have him home. Let the bonding begin...

And then another fight. Breastfeeding was not taking off like it should. In fact, by one month old, it was killing me. I kept saying that it was just my body getting used to breastfeeding again...but the pain was terrible. But I bit my lip (literally) and pressed on...cause gosh darn it, I was not going to have my breastfeeding taken from me! Not another separation! In my stubbornness to address this problem, however, I began to resent Will (yes, resent my 4 week old) for the pain I was experiencing. Oh, the fight was so hard. I wanted to love and nurture and care for him...but something was going so wrong with the nursing and so much pain was being inflicted...I had to fight not to resent him. More separation.

So I sought help. At the end of February as he neared 2 months old, I went to a lactation consultant. My latch was good. So she took a look at him...and when the words "Oral Motor," "bottles," and "pumping" came out of her mouth as her diagnosis and course of action, I thought I could have shriveled up on the floor in a puddle of disappointment and sadness and despair. To me, Will's "oral motor" problems threatened death to our breastfeeding. And I just couldn't bear it. And bottles were just another degree of separation. So I fought.

The pumping and bottle feeding was awful at first. I felt like a machine rather than Will's mother. It was all so mechanical and didn't feel nurturing at all. Of course, I had to keep telling myself that I was still doing what's best for my son. I had lots of people supporting me, and I would not have continued on this path without them by my side...but those were two really awful months. Humiliating at times...what I had to do for my son. In addition to the work of pumping and bottle feeding, I had to begin a series of oral exercises 3-4 times/day to strengthen his mouth with the hopes that he could return to breastfeeding. With two other children (homeschooling one of them) and the demands of having a newborn, these extra steps were a lot...and I wasn't sure how long I could do it. The best advice I was given was by my lactation consultant and that was to take one day at a time. If I thought too much about the weeks or months of hard work that lay before me, I would have despaired...but to look at today was enough. So I fought...

And it has been a good fight. One of the best (and hardest) of my life. I am tired now, and I am not willing to fight sleep for this blog post, so let me conclude. These four months have been a battle. I have had to fight in so many ways for a strong bond with my son. So much has gotten in the way of a normal, natural, mother/baby bond. But this fight has been worth it.

Last week (April 27) Will began nursing full-time again...two months after I stopped nursing and began this hard journey of bottle feeding and pumping and oral therapy. I still have fears about whether he is getting enough or if it might start hurting again. Hopefully a visit to the pediatrician tomorrow will relieve some of those fears. Will has also started sleeping through the night. He also coos and smiles so sweetly. This boy is so sweet. And he knows my voice. That is one of the most rewarding things about this fight...we have spent more time together than I probably did with my other two in their first 4 months...and he knows me...and I know him. Our bond is special. I had to fight for it. It did not come naturally. It was birthed and nurtured through disappointment, pain, despair, and hard work. And now I find myself bursting when I am with him. To look in those blue eyes and see his sweet grin when I speak...I burst. Burst with love. Burst with joy. Burst with pleasure over the sheer delight of enjoying my baby...this sweet gift who God gave me in his perfect timing and who has walked this journey with me.

I know the journey continues...but this segment of the journey feels at rest. There is a rest in my heart that I have not felt since he was born. He is gonna be ok. I am gonna be ok. We are going to be ok. I am thankful for the fight. I am thankful that, for now, the fighting is finished. I am thankful for the bond with my youngest son. It was worth the fight.

I am thankful for the Lord who fought for me. He despaired over our separation to the point of going to the cross. His sacrifice was ultimate. And I am thankful for our bond...that nothing can separate me from him. Thank you, Lord, for your fight. And that you did not relent. And I am yours. And I know your voice. And there is rest.

Will on Monday, May 2, 2011 - Four Months Old

Before church with the kids on Sunday, May 1.
Still LOVE carrying Will in the Moby.

Doesn't he just make you want to burst???!!!
This is my favorite outfit of his right now - "Mommy's Little Man" - which he pooped on and stained...but he still wears it cause I love it so much.

I mean...really...I just want to BURST!!!

Happy 4th Birthday, Millie!

My Millie. What a dear, sweet girl. Loves dresses (twirly ones if at all possible). Loves life. I am so thankful for this day four years ago when God gave her to us.

Today we had our traditional birthday donuts and presents (Cinderella dress, Pink and Purple Leapster with Tangled and Princess games, a Sleeping Beauty bath doll and gum from Hunter). The gum is something we have told Millie she could have when she turned four. After she swallowed two pieces today we're thinking we may still need to wait a while. We went to Chuck E Cheese and had the place to ourselves...lots of riding the little rides and getting her picture taken for the little cards they print out.

Millie, I love you soooo much. I am so thankful for the gift of my girl. You bring enthusiasm and laughter to our family. You are sweet in your words. I love when you tell me I am beautiful or that my outfit is beautiful. I love your sweet voice that often says: "I love you, Mommy." Our family would not be the same without you.

Here are a few pics from today. To see the birthday photos from past years, go here.

My little girl is 4. Where is the time going? Lord, may I treasure these days.

Sooooo excited about presents!!!

Birthday Donuts...a Friederichsen family tradition that started with Millie's first birthday

Cinderella playing with her new Leapster

Sister and Brother enjoying the roller coaster simulator at Chuck E Cheese

Chuck E Cheese came out right before we left to wish Millie a happy birthday

The Things They Say...

I have enjoyed putting Will in this sleeper of Hunter's. A few Sunday nights ago after children's choir, a friend of mine saw Will in this sleeper and just knew her 4 year old son would love it since it is in the pattern of his favorite animal. We brought her son over to see Will, and the conversation went a little something like this:

Jenn (holding her son close to Will): Joshua, what does this outfit remind you of?

Joshua: Jesus
Jenn: No, what animal does it remind you of?
Joshua (with a big grin): Oh, a giraffe!

Looks like a giraffe, but he just knew the answer had to be Jesus!

William Oliver - 3 Months Old

April 2, 2011 - Will at 3 months old

3 Months ago I fell in love. William Oliver Friederichsen entered the world and changed my life. I look at so many things differently now that he is here. Now that he is in my arms. In our home. Growing. Changing so much everyday. Will, I am so thankful for you. You are making me a better mama. I love kissing your cheeks and trying to get every little smile and smirk I can out of you.

Here are some thing you are doing at 3 months old:

Smiling...finally! You aren't quite consistent, but you definitely give us a few smiles everyday...which warm your mama's heart.

You are now in 3-6 month clothes. I just washed them all up last week.

You just had your first blow-out diaper today. Had to wash all the bed linens, because it happened when you were laying on my bed. Since I didn't notice right away, I moved you from my sheets to the comforter, so the sheets, comforter, comforter cover, and mattress pad all got washed today.

You had your first babysitter tonight. Beckie and Mark Robb came so that Mommy and Daddy could go out to dinner for Daddy's birthday. We left you for 3 1/2 hours, and you did great! Mrs. Robb said that you slept happily in your stroller as they took Hunter and Millie to the church to ride bikes. You sucked down your bottle and stayed wide awake for a while. Then you went to sleep easily and stayed asleep until we got home at 8:30 p.m.

You are nursing better. You are taking full feedings in the mornings which is fun for Mommy. We are still working on the rest of the day. Hopefully by four months you will be back to nursing 100%. That is my prayer.

Sometimes you look like Hunter, and sometimes you look like Millie....and sometimes you have a look all of your own.

You will be baptized next Sunday. We are looking forward to that day.

You are still getting up once in the night. I am longing for the day I can sleep more than 4 hours at a time, but Daddy is feeding you around 11 or 11:30, and then you are up again between 4-4:30 a.m. and then up for the day between 7:30-8:00 a.m. Eating seven times/day.

Will, I can't believe you are three months already. One quarter of your first year has passed...and I will try to breathe in all the moments I can as you continue to grow into the little man God has made you to be. I love you, sweet boy.

Getting a little Big Bro time with Hunter

We went to Park Avenue and the Farmer's Market this morning.
I love carrying you in the Moby, and you love it too. Soooo snuggly.

CHEESE!!!

Still such little toes

Chillin' with Daddy...still loving your paci but not as much as last month

Gonna try to get more pictures with Mommy in them.
Mommy loves you, little one!

12 Weeks Ago...

All is quiet on this beautiful Sunday afternoon (well, as soon as I typed the "A" in "all," Will starting crying...hopefully he'll settle back down). I directed the Cherub Choir as they sang "Rejoice and Sing" as the introit for the church service. They did great. Millie made her Cherub Choir debut (a few weeks before her 4th birthday) and swayed and did a little dance as she sang...but she sang every word. We had a great lunch with the Littles at Tijuana Flats. Sat outside. Aaaahhh...fresh air.

Anyway, I don't have the energy to type for long. I just wanted to make sure I wrote down that I remember where I was this time 12 weeks ago - checking into Winter Park hospital not knowing that on that night I would meet this sweet little one:

The journey has been long with him and continues to be longer and harder than I imagined (more to come on that), but I am loving and getting to know Will more and more each day...and I fall more in love with him each day. I kiss his cheeks more. I examine every hair, every scar from the NICU (not many, don't worry), every sweet little toe, every small grin and every little coo...always seeing little bits of sister and brother in him. It is a joy to endure a trial with a little one...for you love and know him more...and soak up every second. The seconds can be hard and unbearable at times...but they are there...and I soak it up.

Happy 12 weeks, Will. Mommy loves you and continues to walk the journey of your little life with you. It is not what I expected, but it is sweet in both its joys and trials. I always want your face close to mine as it was the first moment they handed you to me. The warmth of your sweet cheeks against mine is and I think always will be a reminder of our unique bond. I love you so much.

Why I Love Martha Speaks

Hunter, in the middle of school today, asked me: "Have you ever played 'Name that Aroma'?"

No, son. Never heard of it.

After further questioning, Hunter told me that it was a game they played on Martha Speaks. "Aroma." A word I don't think I have ever used with him. I love the unexpected words I hear from the kids every once in a while...and most of it is due to a regular helping of "Martha Speaks."

8 Weeks Old

I'm sitting on my couch watching the Oscars, and Will is sleeping soundly next to me wrapped in my favorite fuzzy blanket just sucking happily on his paci (see picture below). 8 weeks ago he was not even an hour old. I was dazed in a recovery room trying to figure out what in the world had just happened. So happy. So scared. Just trying to figure out what was going on.

This sweet baby. What a ride. This morning as I was in church with Will snuggly wrapped in the Moby and sleeping against my chest, I remembered this day seven weeks ago...and I wanted to write it down to remember it.

Raw...that is what described January 9, 2011. One week old. My Dad and sister had just left town. Donny and I had had a hard night. My Mom was at home with Hunter and Millie. Will was in the NICU still, and we were heading to church. Before leaving the hospital, Donny and I stopped by the NICU to check on Will. Most of our visits to the NICU were really, really hard for me. They were such a blur.

Anyway, that Sunday morning was the morning the doctors told us that they were suspecting some kind of virus in Will. I can't remember if they had done his spinal tap yet...I think that horrible morning came the next day on Monday...but Will was sick, and the doctors needed to figure out what it was. Donny was very concerned, but I just couldn't handle another emotional burden to carry. Perhaps it was a bit of post-partum depression or just hormones raging on top of being apart from my baby. It could have been anything, but all I wanted to do was get out of that NICU...let the doctors do their thing, and get to church.

We went to church that morning. Staci had already gotten the kids and taken them to Sunday School. So many of our dear church friends were shocked to see us there...but where else would we go? We needed to be with family...and they are truly family. Of course as soon as I walked through the doors, the tears welled up and hardly left while we were there. People continued to tell us they were praying for us and Will, and a simple "thank you" was all I could muster in most cases. I was walking through the fellowship hall in a haze, but I needed to be there. We both needed to be there.

God really used Will's birth and NICU stay to show us the love of the body of Christ through our church. My strongest memory of that Sunday morning was our dear friend, Justin Borger, who was assisting in worship. When he led the congregation in the pastoral prayer, he prayed first for the marriages of the church and specifically for the recent marriage of Jimmy Crandall of our church. Then he prayed for all the families of the church and prayed specifically for Will. With a crack in his voice as he said Will's name, Donny and I both lost it. Donny doesn't cry. That morning, at the sound of his friend mentioning the name of our son who was too far away in a NICU bed, I reached my hand to Donny's back and we both lost it. Our son was not with us. My arms felt so empty. But his name was spoken and known to our entire church. In a way, God gave me the gift of Will's presence in name as he was mentioned in prayer. Our son, who had not been seen by very many people at all, was known...and that meant so much.

Raw...that's the only word to really describe how I felt that day. My son was a week old, and he was not with me. I sat in church without him, and all was not right. Every song sung, every prayer prayed...it was so raw. Everything had a different meaning, because part of myself was not there...it was back at the hospital. I could have sworn I had an open wound, because it felt so raw to be exposed in my pain and loneliness of not being with my newest son.

But our church was there. Our family was there. And God was there through them. All was a haze, but I knew God was there because of the love of our church family.

Many friends crowded around us after the service for hugs and to ask about Will. I eventually had to sit down, because it was getting to hard to stand (since I was still recovering from my c-section). The crowds dwindled, and our friend Ted and Staci asked if they could take us to lunch. Normalcy. I just wanted some normalcy. So we went to the Olive Garden. We went home, grabbed my mom, and we went out for Sunday lunch.

We then returned to the hospital...still raw...but with newness of hope. We were planning on leaving the hospital the next day to begin long days of multiple commutes back and forth...but we had hope and strength. We were being carried by our God mainly through the love and prayers of our church family.

Happy 8 weeks, Will. I still feel a little raw even with you sitting here beside me. A part of me lives on the outside, and I will continue to trust my God with you.

I will try to chronicle your story as I am able. Please know that I am crazy about you. You have me wrapped around your little finger. 8 weeks and, Lord alone willing, many more weeks, months, and years to hold, love, kiss you, and trust my God in the rawness that comes with giving birth to you and watching you grow.

Now it's time for you to eat...and watch the rest of the Oscars. I'm especially enjoying the movie/musical remix as I finish this post.

Good night. Gonna go hold my little 8 week old...this little piece of myself that is not my own. He belongs to God, and I will hold him even as we are both held by His good arms.

In case I don't get back to blogging for a while...here are a few things about Will at 8 weeks:

• You LOVE your paci...sometimes won't sleep without it
• You are still really squooshy and love to be held tightly and in a ball...very womb-like
• Your longest stretch of sleep is 4 hours...you are getting up twice in the night
• You haven't smiled yet...excited for that day.
• Your eyes are dark, dark blue. Gorgeous...just like I prayed (and have prayed for all of your siblings).
• I think you would sleep all day long if someone would just hold you...you LOVE to be held and snuggled...and I love snuggling you.

One Month Old

One month ago tonight...just a few minutes old.

Our Will...one month old.

It's 5:20 p.m. Will is sitting here in my lap awake really for the first time all day (except for eating...he always wakes up to eat). I can't believe it's been a month. I don't know what he's looking at, but he is staring at something to his right just sucking away on his orange paci from the hospital. He loves that thing. He's wearing a rockstar guitar outfit courtesy of Aunt Jenn and cousin Micah. It's one of my faves so far. Hiccups abound. Life is normal....a new normal but gloriously normal.

This past month has been one of the strangest, hardest, and most wonderful of my life. In a way, Will's first 2 1/2 weeks feel like a dream or movie that didn't really happen to me. I remember things quite vividly but also as if I was watching it happen to me rather than experiencing it myself. Here's a little of the story from my perspective...

Sunday morning, January 2...definitely didn't feel great. We spent Friday night the 31st at our friends the Nolls' house for New Year's Eve. We stayed much later than I had planned because we were having such a good time...laughed a lot. Saturday morning, Jan. 1 we went shopping as a family. We bought the one thing I said I needed for the baby: a changing pad. It's the only necessity that we didn't have before the baby was to come. Saturday afternoon/early evening we went to Sea World to see a few Christmas shows before they ended. Needless to say, it was a really full weekend. That Sunday morning, something had changed. I told Donny that I felt like I was carrying the baby differently. Something was different. Little did I know...

I went to church. Feeling the way I did, I would have normally stayed at home to rest, but I did not have to sing in choir, and Donny did not have to assist in worship, so we got to sit together as a family, and I was not going to miss that opportunity (sorry for the crazy long sentence). I was tired, sore, and just feeling weird. Couldn't quite put my finger on it. I would have said for sure I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions. Little did I know...

The minute we got home from church, I asked Donny to do lunch for the kids. I went back to our bedroom to sit in our recliner. And it began...the all too familiar surges of pain I felt with Millie. With Millie, I had to call my sister to ask if I was in labor (because I didn't go into labor on my own with Hunter, so I wasn't sure). This time I knew what those pains probably were. Sitting in the chair, the pain came with some frequency...but certainly it wasn't labor (I thought). I laid down on my bed to see if a change in position would help alleviate the pain. Not so much. I finally called my doctor (who was on call, thankfully). I had just seen her on Friday for an appointment. When I found out she was on call for New Year's weekend, I told her that I hoped she would have an uneventful weekend on call. Little did I know...

I told my doctor I was having menstrual-like surges of pain every 2-3 minutes. My doctor told me to drink a lot of water and give the pain an hour to subside. If it did not stop, she told us to come in to labor and delivery. Funny thing...I was planning on going to the hospital the next week to tour the labor and delivery and baby hall. So we had to look up the hospital and call and ask where labor and delivery were.

The whole way there, I was preparing myself to be humiliated as one who showed up thinking she was in labor when in fact it was gas or something else. The pain wasn't really increasing, but it wasn't going away either. When we got to labor and delivery, they hooked me up to some machines and confirmed that I was indeed contracting. My heart sank, and I tried not to panic. I was 34 weeks and 6 days...and that just felt a little too early. I would have been fine with it in a couple of weeks...but this felt too early. The nurses said the doctor wanted to try to stop my labor by giving me some tributelene (sp?). Well, my heart sank again. When I went into labor with Millie, they gave me tributelene to try to slow my labor, and it did not make a dent in my labor with her...so I wondered if my body would respond (or not respond) the same way. And it did (or didn't). Two or three doses later, my labor was not slowing, and I was continuing to steadily dilate. We were admitted around 3:15 p.m. in the afternoon. By 6:00 or so, the nurses were preparing us that we might be having our baby that night.

As I prepared to give birth and face whatever having a 34 week and 6 day baby would mean, I needed to see my kids. Thankfully, our dear friend Staci had taken the kids to her house. Really, I could not have gotten through this without her and her help. I had Donny call Staci and ask her to bring the kids. It meant so much to get that last "family of four" picture and to be able to tell the kids ourselves that their baby brother or sister was on his/her way. It was so important for me to hug them and be with them one last time before the baby came.

Around 7:30 p.m., my doctor came in to confirm that we would be having the baby tonight. Lots of deep breaths. Lots of arrow prayers just asking for the safe arrival of our little one. The preparations began and in less than an hour I was in an operating room getting ready for a c-section. Donny isn't allowed in the operating room while I am getting my spinal, so he stayed back to put on his operating room gear...and apparently to eat a bite, because Bud had just arrived with dinner for Donny as I was going into the operating room. My doctor was ready to get started, and Donny had not come in the OR yet. It was the most panicked I felt all day. Turns out Donny, Bud, and his son Grey were praying together before the surgery. I'm all for praying, mind you, but man did they cut it close.

Donny arrived. He made it. I really was unsure. Oh, and did I mention he had the camera? I'm not sure what/who I wanted there more - Donny or the camera. It was Donny, of course, but I really wanted my camera there too. My relief was so great. And there we were...ready for the birth of our child. Oh yeah, and we get to find out if he is a boy or a girl. Just a little detail that kinda got lost in the midst of the other unknown factors of the day.

The surgery was great (as good as surgery can be). My best c-section of the three. No pain or discomfort. No nausea. The drape was higher than the one in Lexington. When I had Hunter and Millie I could see my doctor, but I couldn't see Dr. Moore this time. That was ok...just different. She talked to me throughout...and then he came...a boy. Our son. He cried. Loud. It's the same cry he still cries today. I know his cry will change over time, but I am thankful for that newborn cry still. There was so much that was scary and unknown. His cry was relieving, so I cherish it.

My head was spinning...a boy. Was he healthy? What was happening to him? Was Donny getting enough pictures? 7lbs., 60z. Yep, we make 'em big. Can you imagine how big he would have been if I was still carrying him (considering I'm not due until next Monday)?

I got to hold him for a little while on the operating table. They actually let me hold him. I don't remember getting to hold Hunter and Millie. I just remember Donny holding them up to me. But I got to hold this little one. And I held his cheek close to mine for as long as they would let me. I wanted to feel his warm skin and hear/feel him breathing against my own cheek. He was here. I couldn't believe it...and in some ways I still can't.

He was here. He is here. Happy one month my sweet Will. I will process more of this journey as I am able. I am just so happy he is here. The time following his birth was so difficult, but it has made these days now so sweet.

One month. Not taking a day for granted. Praying for many, many more...

Dear Will...

You're here. I can't believe you are here. I wait sometimes to feel you move again inside of me, and then I remember that you are here. But I'm here on the sofa in our little house on Timor Ave., and you're not here. You're back at the hospital...and I ache. You're not inside my womb anymore. You're 6 miles away while I wait to go back for your next feeding. I miss you so much.

Will you please eat? It's the only thing keeping you from coming home to me. Honestly, my desire for you to get out of the NICU is primarily for my benefit. My heart can't take this apartness too much longer. I can't walk out of your hospital room too many more times without just bursting. I know that God will give me the grace to go in and out of your room as many times as I need until you are ready to come home...but it just feels so unbearable right now.

In the nearly two weeks since your birth, you have changed so much. You already seem like such a big boy. I'm still trying to figure out if you look more like Hunter or Millie as a newborn, but I think you are a mix. You have some "older" features that remind me of Millie, but when you sleep in Daddy's arms, I see Hunter. They are so excited for you to come home. Hunter has already been asking when you can sleep in their room. I can't wait for you to join our life at home. I will wait for that day, but I continue to long for you to be able to live life with your brother and sister. Y'all will love each other. We haven't even gotten a picture yet of our family of five, because only one child is allowed in the NICU at a time. Oh, how I long for all five of us to be in a room together.

I know you are not mine. I had that attitude in the beginning. I was discouraged, because I thought you belonged more to the nurses and the hospital and the NICU than to me...but a good friend reminded me that you belong to no one but the Lord. You don't belong to the hospital. You don't belong to the nurses. You don't belong to me either. The Lord has given you to our family. He knit you together in my womb and brought about your days on the earth by His good and perfect will. Will, I will thank the Lord for everyday he gives us to love and care for you. And I will wait for when the Lord allows that to be in our own home.

I love you, Sweetie. I love your scrunchy face...just how I thought a squirmy one like you might be. I love your little squeaks and squeals. When you start to cry it always starts with a squeal. I love how you look at me for the longest time right as we start to nurse. It's fun to connect with your beautiful, dark eyes in those moments. I love watching you grow. I wish I could watch you right here in our home...but I will watch you wherever God has us. You will not always be under our roof. God is using this time to teach me that you are his and not mine. That has been a major lesson for me. I am, however, ready to learn more with you here with me, snuggling on our old couch on which I have lain and snuggled with your brother and sister.

Will, please come home soon. Your Mommy misses you while we are apart. Lord, please bring my boy home. I will wait and trust you to be sufficient in the ache. I will try not to panic, thinking that I am missing these first few weeks of my son's life. I will embrace these weeks by your grace...knowing that you have things for me to experience in these weeks that I might not at home. Thank you for my son. What a treasure he is.

Will, I love you, and I will see you in a little more than two hours when we return to the hospital for the umpteenth time. And I will continue to come back until we can bring you home. What a day that will be.

With all my love,
Mommy

Dear Little One...

I wish I knew your name. We haven't decided yet. That's one of the hard things of not knowing if you are a boy or girl. There is so much energy and heart involved in picking a name. It's so hard to do it for both boy and girl names. But...you are known. I know you right now as Squiggly McGee, because you are so much squirmier than I remember your brother or sister being. Last night I was sitting and I think you were just thumping your foot or something inside of me, because there was just a repetitive "thump, thump, thump" on my left side...but always near the top. Hunter loves to feel you move. His eyes light up when he sees or feels you move. I can't wait to see how Millie and Hunter respond to you. They express such delight already.

Dear one, I love you. I spend more time wondering what you are like inside of me. How big are you at this point (32 weeks)? Will you be as big as your brother and sister? Will you have their (and my) eyes? Are you a little sister or brother? Hunter most often guesses sister, and Millie most often guesses brother. I think that's funny.

I feel a little fragile as these final weeks of pregnancy approach. Christmas always makes me a little more emotional, but I also know that the full experience of you in this life is not a given. In the past few years I know of those close and far from me who have experienced terrible loss...and I know your life is not to be taken for granted. Perhaps that is why this pregnancy has been different. As Jesus was born at Christmas, he was born to face awful, horrific circumstances. Betrayal and the worst possible of deaths. Although none of us will experience what our Lord went through for us, I am reminded today that you are not promised protection from tragedy. We are not promised protection from horror...but we are promised a Savior who came at Christmas who is a refuge and strength and offers perfect peace.

I pray for a full experience of you in this life...for many, many wonderful years (yep. there's that little kick on my left side).

Seriously, squirmy...what are you going to be like? What will I be like? I want nothing more than you this Christmas...and I will wait patiently and expectantly. I will know you by name and by face and fingers and toes and by the many nuances that are only and all yours. Delight.

For now, I will watch you squirm and wait...and love you more and more.

Love, Mommy

Who Left Me in Charge?

I'm home tonight. The kids are in bed, and Donny is out at a meeting. Thankfully, there haven't been many nights like this lately, but tonight was one of those nights when I was in charge. Daddy didn't come home from work/school, and I had the kids all day. It's funny. When I have days like that (probably because they aren't too frequent), I tend to do ok. I think God gives me what I need for the demands of days like today...and I rely on him more. On normal days I probably fail more miserably, because I put my trust in when Donny gets home or just making it to naptime or whatever.

Anyway, I had one of those funny moments as a parent tonight when I mumbled to myself: "Who left me in charge?" It was 7:00 p.m. - The kids were cuddled up on my bed watching a little of "Beauty and the Beast" before bed. Throughout the day I had schooled them, fed them, yelled at them, repented, gone to Bible Study, had a friend's daughter over for lunch, had naptime (for all of us), afternoon snacks, "Martha Speaks" at 4:30 (a daily ritual), play and clean up, dinner, baths, more cleaning, and then 30 minutes of their video before bed.

Oh...and before the video I tried to pull Hunter's 2nd loose tooth. I think of all the "big girl/mommy" things I did today, trying to pull his tooth was one thing that really makes me feel like a mommy and a child all at once. Really? Am I old enough to have a child losing teeth? I remember my dad taking dental floss to my loose teeth to pull them out...and that's just what I did tonight. I don't really fight the teeth, so we'll give it another go tomorrow, but it just feels so weird to be pulling my baby's baby teeth. Who left me in charge?

As the kids were in my room watching "Beauty and the Beast," I had another "moment." "Beauty and the Beast" was my favorite movie as a little girl/young teen. Belle is still my favorite princess. I had dreams of being Belle in the Disney stage show at Hollywood Studios (MGM when I was younger). Anyway, it was really weird and wonderful to hear those familiar songs (which I still know by heart) coming from my room while my two children watched, snuggled together as close as they could be, one chewing on my favorite blanket (I know because I just got under the blanket and a corner is wet), and I feel like I was just there a few years ago. It's too fun and too weird all at the same time.

Oh, and did I mention that I have a child growing inside of me? Today was the first day that I could watch my belly and actually see a hand/elbow/foot move across my belly. Donny calls it the "Alien" stage. I have been able to feel him/her for a while and have seen the bumps here and there...but today it was something moving across my insides, and I could see it on the outside. There is a baby growing inside of me. Really? Who left me in charge?

Thankfully, of course, I'm not really in charge...but I do sometimes wonder what God is doing entrusting me with so much. I am thankful for the gifts of our children and the time I have with them. Loose teeth, Disney movies, breakfast for dinner - these are sweet memories we are making...and they bring back some sweet memories of my own childhood. For now, God has given me and Donny charge over our family's little life, and I will embrace the responsibility and will hopefully repent when I begrudge it.

Even though I know I am not ultimately in charge, when I have to make a mommy-sized decision when I feel like a little girl myself, I still have to ask myself : Who left me in charge?

What a gift to be the mommy to these three little ones.

But sometimes moments like losing a tooth can make me ask...

...who left me in charge???
(I'm on the left with my sister)

Homeschooling

Yes, I said it...homeschooling. On August 11, 2010, after nearly two years of prayer and research, I began the journey of homeschooling. Not sure how long this journey is going to last...but it has begun...and I actually like it so far.

For those who care, most of my influence to homeschool came from reading the book The Well Trained Mind. I was also intrigued with some homeschooling families on staff with Campus Crusade in Orlando. They were the first families we had ever seen homeschool, and I really liked what I saw. Their kids were normal, a joy to be around, and their family unit was so tight.

Anyway, I really don't want to take the time explaining myself (which is what I often feel like I need to do). I just want to say...I am glad I am doing it, and I really like it already. I love having the time with Hunter, and I love Millie and Hunter having more time together. I am also looking forward to Hunter being home in February when this new baby blesses our home. I am looking forward to giving him and Millie every opportunity to love on and care for their little brother or sister, and having him home for school will give him that extra time.

It's not easy...but it's not awful either. Actually, there are parts that seem easy and are delightful (like when Hunter reads on his own without being prompted and when he shows proficiency way beyond what I am teaching him), but there are parts that are awful (like doing a math lesson with money and having to sit through the clanging coins while I have a throbbing headache). My patience is tried everyday, but I also cling to the Lord for that patience in a way that is new and so good for my heart and sanctification.

And...I love seeing him (and Millie) learn. He seems to pick up reading really well. I was a decoder as a kid, and I think he has some decoding skills as well. As I am writing, he just came in to ask me a question and read "Blogger" on the top of my computer screen. We haven't talked about the "er" ending yet, but we have talked about all the other rules that form that word...and he just figured out the rest. It's really fun watching him get excited about figuring that stuff out.

So...what do we do? Bible, Math and Reading...that's about it. We're pretty simple around here. We start the day reading Scripture. By reading the same passage over and over, the kids start to learn it. We have been working on Psalm 139 for most of September, and it is so sweet to hear those words everyday as we read of being knit together in my mother's womb and being fearfully and wonderfully made. I pray that God is using those verses to teach their hearts about his careful workmanship on them and on their new baby brother or sister. Then we always sing a song or two and pray for our day. No real Bible curriculum...just the Word, song and prayer...and it's a good start for me as well.

Math. We use Saxon Math which was passed on to me by my sister when she did a little homeschooling with her oldest before he entered Kindergarten. I began to use their Kindergarten program last year just to dabble in it with Hunter a little, so we began our year finishing Saxon K. We will finish it up in a few weeks and then move on to Saxon 1.

Reading. Confession: I am not a reader. I haven't read to my kids very much through the years. I only read what I am required for the few seminary classes I have taken/am taking. I don't like to read. BUT...guess what my favorite part of school is? Can you believe it? Reading.

I have "snack time" with them between math and our formal reading lesson. To start the year, I read them "Stuart Little" which showed me immediately that my kids needed to learn the discipline of sitting and just listening to the reading of a good book (without pictures). Once we finished "Stuart Little," I felt indecisive about what book to pick up next (because it is quite a commitment for me...since I don't like to read), so I started on page one of their Jesus Storybook Bible and started reading...and they love it (and so do I). I'll probably go back to a more traditional piece of literature once we finish, but I just love their attentiveness and their requests for more when I read their story Bible to them. Sometimes I feel fanatical about having Bible time and then reading to them from their story Bible later in the morning...but isn't that what school is about anyway? Math, reading, science...it all is about the one true God who made the world and ordered the world and how we learn so that he could reveal himself and his glory to us. That's what I pray with the kids every morning during our prayer time: that as we learn different pieces of information that we would learn about the God who put those things into place.

Back to reading. I am fading now, so I'll finish with highly praising the reading primer I am using. It's The Ordinary Parent's Guide to Teaching Reading, and it is wonderful. Again, no major curriculum...just a very simple, methodical way to teach basic phonics in which the rules build on each other day by day. Millie has done a lot of our reading lessons with us, and she (almost 3 1/2) can recognize all the letters and tell you the primary sound for all the consonants and the short sound of all the vowels. We even do a "spelling bee" at the end of our reading lessons, and I have Millie tell me the first letter of the word and then have Hunter finish the spelling. I don't tell you this to brag on my daughter. I tell you because I have been so impressed with the quality of this book and its methods.

If you know Hunter at all, you know that he loves to make things...especially books. I feel for the kid. His mom (and teacher) neither reads nor does crafts. He has asked me every few days since school began when we are going to do a craft or make something, and my response has been the same every time: "No, not today. Maybe sometime in the future Mommy will plan a craft." It's been 6 weeks or so. No crafts. So there are some definite deficiencies to my home education program. He still makes his books...which has shown me the need to begin a more formal handwriting curriculum. So that is next on my list of things to add to our day.

Ok, I'm done. If you have stuck with me this far, kudos to you. Since school began in August, I just haven't gotten a chance to process my life now as a home educator, so this was helpful for me. For the skeptic, I hope you are intrigued by something (even if you are revolted by other things). For the inquirer, I hope you are inspired to consider it (although I absolutely know it's not for everyone). For anyone else, I don't know why you read this far, but I hope you have gained a little peek into my days. It's nice to feel known, and you are known sometimes by what you spend your time doing...and this fills my mornings. And they are treasured hours...often trying...but always treasured.

First Day of School Smiles.
Our "classroom" is set up in our entryway from our front door to our kitchen.

Hunter during a math lesson on covering a shape in different ways.

A family dinner of green eggs after Hunter read "Green Eggs and Ham."