The Next Adventure

I survived another school year.

Which is a good thing, because I had run out of school lunch combinations. (Would you like crackers or cheese with that PB&J?)

Our daughter has attended a small Christian school the last 2 years. We have loved it. Fantastic teachers, fun & educational field tri

ps, an overall well-rounded education.... What's not to love?

Well, tuition comes to mind.

Actually, we felt it was money well spent. We received an excellent return on our investment. But it became a bit of a stretch for us financially.

So a germ of an idea began to grow.....

HOMESCHOOL.

The more we thought about it (and we REALLY thought about it, because we were really looking forward to the 2nd grade teacher.), the more excited we became with the possibilities. We found that it became less about the lack of finances and more about customizing our girl's education.

As I considered it, here are the conclusions I came to:

1. Ultimately, the responsibility to educate our child is up to us, the parents. As Christians, we feel this strongly and find instruction for this in the Bible. (Deuteronomy 6:6,7; Deuteronomy 11:19; Proverbs 22:6 and Ephesians 6:4) I do not feel that others cannot teach my child, but the main responsibility lies with us.
2. By homeschooling, we will be able to customize our daughter's education. In a traditional classroom, students are "contained" at their grade level. I've found that students tend to be at different places in their learning journey and by homeschooling, I can meet my daughter where she is in any subject and nurture any specific interest that grows along the way.
3. It will help to nurture our family as a whole. Our extended families are about 8 hours in either direction. When in school, we are locked into traveling only when school is out for holidays (if the holiday is long enough and coincides with a weekend.) This greatly limits visits with family and opportunities to travel together on personal family trips.
4. We just love our girl and enjoy being with her! I realize daily that she is growing up soooo quickly and want to take advantage of every moment we can spend with her.

I realize that not everyone can homeschool or even wants to. It is not my intent to become a crusader and evangelize everyone to the homeschooling method.

But that day may come.... :-D

The Gift of Friendship...No Matter How Brief

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.
Joseph Roux

I knew her 3 weeks and 4 days and then she was gone. Taken by a rare form of thyroid cancer. Although I physically only spent time with her twice, I feel as devastated by her death as if she'd been a lifetime friend.

I met Mary Ann in NYC March 5th. She was at Hope Lodge for cancer treatment. I was traveling with someone who knew her and worked with her. Although she is from my town, I didn't know her so I went along to visit her as a nice gesture.

She appeared, looking the very picture of NY chic in her knee high riding boots and flowing coral cardigan. She gave us a tour of the Hope House, (that is, the areas where visitors are allowed) which gave the sense of a home-like hotel. An institution that offers many lovely home-like touches, but is still way to perfect to be home.

We then took a walk to get water at the corner store, which led to an amble through the streets. We visited a vintage shop, Saks, she lit a candle at St. Patrick's Cathedral, we watched the skaters glide across the ice at Rockefeller Center, and shared a hot dog from a street vendor.

Nothing remarkable, but it changed everything.

It was one of two life changing meetings that happened to me that weekend.

About a week after returning home, I received news that she was returning home for terminal care. The cancer had taken over and there was nothing to be done. I was anxious to see her and prayed that I might. My friend called me and said that she was given 3-10 days to live...and that she wanted a haircut.

For pity's sake...a haircut?

This I could do.

We arranged the time for Saturday after I finished a wedding and went to Mary Ann's house. She was considerably weaker in that short 3 weeks; tan from jaundice and a bit wobbly on her feet. The cancer, which had now spread to the brain, left her momentarily foggy when searching for words, but I could still see the woman who captured my heart.

We spent a wonderful 2 hours visiting, hugging, crying and laughing. It was wonderful, but I was achingly aware that I had most likely given her her last haircut. (And she rocked it!)

The following Tuesday, I received a call at work telling me that she was in Hospice. As soon as I finished work, I went over. I doubt she knew I was there, but I met her sister and visited with her husband (of 30+ years) who touched my heart as he tenderly attended to Mary Ann's needs.

The call came the next day that she had died at 2:45 am Wednesday morning.

I've been amazed at how deeply her death has affected me since I've knew her for such a short time. I feel I almost don't have a right to grieve her as deeply as I do.

But in spite of the pain, I am grateful for the gift of her life which touched mine, no matter how briefly.

Ride 'Em Cowgirl!

Summer seems to be sweeping me away...

We have been busy with day-to-day things that somehow consume every available moment so that there is no time to blog about potential bloggable moments.

I have a new worry that has developed in the last two days: my oldest cat, Tiger seems to be very sick. I took him to the vet Saturday and he has fluid in his abdomen. Why or where it came from seems to be the big question. Could be anything from an inflamed liver, to a virus called FIP, which is untreatable. He has refused food since Saturday. I lost Tiger's half sister a few months ago to some dogs who attacked her in our yard.

To say my heart is heavy and distracted would be an understatement...

Yarden Bounty

This weekend my husband took a stroll through our yard and this was the result. While others with more decorating savvy would have pulled out the cut crystal vases; hubby, always resourceful, pulled old drink bottles and small bowls from the cupboard. (Perhaps this also speaks to the fact that there are NO cut crystal bowls in the house?) So this week, as I've fixed lunches and grabbed dishes from the cupboard to piece together meals, I've caught the gentle fragrance of roses wafting up.

It somehow adds a bit of gentility to our otherwise helter-skelter lives.

For My Husband...

Sometimes you make me angry. So much so that I can’t see straight. Can’t see past the moment.

Recently, I’ve just been looking at you and thinking how happy I am to be married to you. One day, I was walking behind you in the hall and we were having a disagreement and oddly, I wasn’t angry or frustrated at that particular moment.

All I could think was:
Damn. You are so fine.

Right Here. My Heart Laid Open and Exposed.

Sometimes I wish I had the luxury to follow my heart...

If I didn't have to eat, if I didn't have obligations to others, if I had all the time in the world...

I would just sit--holding her, staring at her, running my fingers through her silken hair. Begging time to stop.

Just let me hold my heart for a little while longer...

The Reluctant Graduate

Sorry for my lackadaisical blog entries. It's not for lack of desire. I even have a few things I'd like to write about, one of which, I'm trying to do research on.

We are down to one computer. "My" laptop. I say "my" because it was bought with the intention that I would use it for work and keep client info on it. Ideally, no one else would put "their stuff" on it. BUT. When you are married, everything is "ours" so I can't very well say--"Keep your stinkin' paws off my laptop, I gotta blog to update!" now can I? (O.K., you may be braver than I, but I can't say it OUT LOUD.)

School is out. I am now the proud mother of a preschool graduate. A preschool graduate who is wise beyond her years.

Case in point:

The morning of her graduation as I was getting ready I said to her, "I know kindergarten will be good, but mommy will really miss (preschool teachers and director) Miss Julie, Miss Beverly, Miss Jill and Miss Ann at your preschool." To which she sagely replied: "Mommy, don't be sad because Miss Julie, Miss Beverly, Miss Jill and Miss Ann will still be at preschool. And Miss Coffey (kindergarten teacher) is so sweet!"

You're right.

But mommy doesn't wanna graduate.

The Highlight of Some One's Saturday.

So proud in my soccer gear. Check out my shin guards! The hair in a rare ponytail. It's the official soccer ponytail.

Look Cousin! I do the dance of joy!

I just love this look of exultation!

They Didn't Cover This in Pre-Birth Classes

Never mind I didn't take those classes to begin with. I delivered her just fine, thank you. Something about my body being naturally equipped to do these things. (As long as "naturally" includes a hefty dose of epidural, I'm all over it.) Except I don't do much of anything naturally. Not even my hair. Especially not my hair.

But they don't tell you --in the hospital, as delivery is imminent--that you will be delivering your child for the rest of life. You will deliver her into the hands of others over and over. Last summer I delivered her into the hands of a preschool staff. With much fear and trembling. And I paid dearly for the privilege. And I continue to write that check every month.

We began the delivery process again last night as we took her to kindergarten registration. There was less hand wringing on my part this time, watching her thrive in preschool has lessened the anxiety in that regard, but my heart filled and threatened to spill out through my eyes as I looked around at the classroom and realized...my girl is growing up. So fast. Kindergarten. Real, unadulterated school. There's no turning back now. No vestige of babiness left. I have a little girl who is blurring the line between little and big at an alarming rate.

I wouldn't change this. Not for the world.

But.

Why am I forced to let go more often than I'm ready?

Merry Christmas Everybody!!!

Hey ya'll, just wanted to pop in and say my internet access is going to be spotty, so if I'm not around for awhile, don't worry.

Hey, have a very merry Christmas and remember...

Christmas is not about the presents.

It's about the GIFT!

"Behold a virgin shall conceive....and you shall call his name Jesus and he shall save his people from their sins."

Life Flashing Before My Eyes

Usually, as you watch children grow on a day to day basis, it's a subtle affair. But yet, it seems to happen so fast! I laughingly tell people, "I put her to bed one night and she was 4 months and when she got up the next morning, she was 4 years old!"

Other times, they accomplish all sorts of things in a single day! Like yesterday, she rode her bicycle (with training wheels) with confidence after discovering she's just about outgrown her tricycle.

Also, while at gymnastics yesterday, she walked on the balance beam without holding teacher's hand! (Never mind others have been doing this awhile, my girl is cautious.)

At 4 1/2 she is trying very hard to read. She occasionally surprises the daylights out of me by reading a word I had no idea she knew. Last night, she really set us back on our heels...

My husband makes movie montages from still photos, music and uses it to illustrate a Bible verse or two. He's done this with John 3:16, a verse we've been saying to our girl as part of her nightly bedtime routine since she was born. This particular movie montage has photos of her in it and so he showed it to her yesterday when she surprised him by saying the verse along with the video. Yes, she has it memorized, but he only puts a fragment of the sentence up at the time and she paused at the appropriate times, waiting for the next part to show up!

When we read our Bible story at night, she is anxious for me (or daddy) to "tell me the words". It's so neat to pause at a word and hear her say it!

This thrills me to no end since I LOVE to read. I don't remember the process of learning to read, but I do know that momma always got on to me for reading at the table. When she made me put away the book I'd brought to the table, I'd grab the cereal box.

Looks like Part II in the saga of my life is about to take off!