Cracked Cantaloupe Do-Over~City Mom

A neighbor gave us a melon. A perfect, garden cantaloupe she had grown over the Summer. My husband and I not being fans of the fruit had set it in the back hall to take along for a day outing and sharing with my parents. (that sounds really selfish. we commonly share things we like as well, but we didn't want this to go to waste knowing the children would likely not eat the entire thing themselves.)

I turned the corner and a small boy who had been told to put on his shoes and get in the car was barefoot and holding the cantaloupe over an even smaller boy's head and messing around.

Something came over me. I kind of snapped. I gave "the look." You know what I mean. Remember the look you got as a kid that made you go, "uh-oh, I'm in for it now." And then...

catastrophe.


the cantaloupe fell.


and, the world stopped.

Instead of taking my own often shared advise of holding back, breathing/praying/taking stock...I charged. I gave the "you know better than this, I'm so disappointed lecture." The kind of lecture that you swore before you were a parent you would never give to your kids. Then came in the reinforcement. My husband took off on my disappointment lecture and picked up the guilt lecture "we can't give a cracked cantaloupe to your grandparents now...and oh! how horrible to do this when our neighbor was so thoughtful to give us a melon!"

Result? Crocodile tears. And I watched my almost 7 year old blessing, put on his shoes with his head held low and get into the van. (Yes, I'm crying as I type this.)

I asked my husband if he would be willing to chat for a moment. Still fired up from his charge he reluctantly agreed. I carefully laid out the situation and confessed my sin. "He was exhibiting childish behavior...and besides it was a melon! And look at our son! He was shamed and guilted and is drooping in his spirit right now."

David gave me the green light to invite our boy back inside.

I pulled that precious child on my lap, wiped away his tear and cuddled him a moment. I asked him if there was anything he would like to say to us. He shook his head no. Then I said, "Darling, Mommy was so wrong in communicating that a melon was more important than you. You didn't hurt your grandparents or our neighbor by what happened. I chose to be self-serving in my sinful nature and for some crazy reason, I chose a melon over my dear-beloved son! Please forgive me and know that this is not the mommy I want to be to you."

A similar repentant attitude was then expressed from father to son.

That sweet child reached out and hugged us both and offered his forgiveness. He also said that he would have been better employed obeying us by having put his shoes on and gotten into the van, than messing around with the cantaloupe.

This is grace. This is love. This is forgiveness. All found in Jesus. The ability to humble ourselves was not in ourselves but from the Holy Spirit. That cracked melon, produced a crack in our son's little spirit. But, something beautiful happened. Love covered over a multitude of sins, and our son saw feet on the gospel.

As we parent, we strive for gentleness, peace, patience, kindness, self-control. Ultimately, we often fail. I think the striving for those qualities speaks volumes to our children. But, I'm praying that the ability to humble ourselves and repent will speak highly as well. Following Jesus is not about being perfect. It's about being forgiven.

I Peter 4:8
Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.

The Newest Country Mom~by my favorite Guest Blogger, Tam-Tams

Yesterday I told my friend Michelle I am homesick. This whole hobby farm gig is beautiful but its also been hard. It feels like we’ve been on an exhausting vacation and I am ready to go home. She encouraged me to make a memory with my children to make our new house feel like home. I thought about her advice and what we might do throughout the day. At 4:30 PM, quite by accident we got our memory. Gillian ran into the house alarmed and announced “I think the neighbor dogs did something to the chicks!” I dropped everything and ran. Sure enough, they did.  Seven dead baby chickens were strewn about the yard. This was not what I had in mind.

Amidst the tears, shock, disbelief, and carnage a thought kept running through by mind, “I have no frame of reference for how to handle this.” I didn’t know what to do. I wanted in that moment to go back to my easy carefree life in the ‘burbs. Where we never would even have chickens let alone worry if a predator would get them. The most I ever worried about there was a nuisance barking dog. But here I was, needing to tend to the mess, tend to my kids hearts, and tend to an awkward situation with my neighbors.

 Thankfully the hubby was home. He dug a grave while Gillian and I searched for a nice big rock for the top. He dug it nice and deep so our new hole-digging puppy couldn’t get to the bodies. We let the kids watch him dig. We let them ask questions. We let them see the dead chicks. We hugged them and consoled them and explained animal instincts.  He called the neighbors to say what had happened. They felt awful. We felt awful. It was awkward.

 Of course in this day and age an event like this warrants a facebook status update. Well meaning friends offered encouragement. Folks said this was a good opportunity for a lesson in farm living or death or animal food chains. I suppose you open yourself up to everyone’s thoughts and advice when you post things on facebook but I was challenged. I think those lessons were inherent to what happened. They could plainly see the chicks were dead and they knew how it had happened and why. They didn’t need a lecture to drive home how sometimes life is rough, especially on a farm.  They were experiencing it. And lets face it, three weeks of living out in the country on a hobby farm doesn't make us farmers. Not even close.

 In my heart I sensed that there was probably a more meaningful way we could coach our kids through this other than talking about the obvious or the negative. I prayed for some assistance in figuring out what that was. I am oftentimes amazed at what the Holy Spirit accomplishes in spite of me and how God has a way of using imperfect people to accomplish beautiful lessons in life.  He proceeded to use Dave and I to teach some important lessons to all of us.

 It started when we talked our oldest daughter through how she might handle it when the neighbors came by to apologize (which we sensed they would do.) We explained that they never ever meant for this to happen and to try to think about how she would feel if our dog did something like this. We reminded her that it was an accident and they probably felt awful (which they did). We gave her verbiage and told her to be gracious. It was a lesson in forgiveness and grace.

 And when the neighbors came with their kids in tow and tears in their eyes to apologize she did great.  She smiled graciously and said it was an accident. We told them of course they didn’t mean for it to happen and of course we accept their apology and tried to put them at ease. They asked what they could do and offered to buy us new chicks and we had a moment of comic relief when all realized we have no idea how or where to get chicks. Our kids and their kids watched all this play out between the grown ups. It was a lesson in understanding and empathy.

 Later that night when we were tucking the kids in bed we prayed and thanked God for such great neighbors. We talked to the kids about how while it is very sad that the chicks died,  the relationship we have with our new neighbors is more important than dogs behaving badly and chickens dying. That people are more important than animals. Always. It was a lesson in perspective.

 So yes, we did have ourselves a memory and it turns out we got some beautiful lessons in as well. I sense that we and our neighbors will all laugh about his someday. I might even be ready to now. And I am so thankful that God in His wisdom whispered into my spirit to look for a better lesson. And I am thankful that God made sure I learned these lessons right alongside my children.

RIP: Shoe, Tricky, Isabelle, MacKenzie, Sunshine, Shadow, and Oreo

Madame Blueberry~Guest Blogger: Inbetween Country and City Mom

My sweet friend Tammie is moving from a City Mom to a Country Mom this week. Enjoy her reflections on leaving the home where she brought home (most) of her babies...

My mom moved us from our childhood home my freshman year of college.  She told me that after all the boxes were out she sat in the silence and cried. She said she could literally see the four of us kids running through the house at various stages of our lives and hear our voices as if it were real. I thought she was crazy and blew her off as any normal 18 year old would. How wrong I was.

 Packing up this house has been harder than I ever imagined it would be. Though I trust Gods timing, this is where my memories are. I brought one toddler and 3 babies home here and raised them. I watched them take their first steps, heard their first words, cheered on their accomplishments, prayed with them, homeschooled them, ran behind them as they learned to bike, celebrated 22 birthdays, and 9 Christmases here.  Just like my mom I can see them playing and running and hear them giggling. It’s eerie and wonderful and sad all at the same time. Oh how I have cried. I've cried and I've cried and I've cried.

I remember how excited we were to buy this house. We thought the place was ginormous compared to our tiny old home. 

But after we got here it was a let down. I longed to go back. That was our first home and it was darling and fixed up the just way we liked it. We had dear friends as neighbors. We brought our first child home there as well as grieved the loss at birth of our second.  Here our fridge broke the DAY we moved in. Our furniture (what little we had) was all hand me down and didn’t look as cute in this house. I looked at my new walls that were not the colors I liked and the dated fixtures, old appliances and ugly flooring and the kitchen sink which was disgusting and the ugly landscaping and I was miserable. We could barely afford our mortgage and I knew I would have to live with all this  . . ugliness. I wished we had never moved. And I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried.  (Mind you I was very pregnant as well as still grieving a loss. I am not really that much of a basket case. Only sometimes.) And then the Lord spoke to me. Through Veggie Tales.

One day two year old Gillian was sitting on the couch watching a Veggie Tales and I was working in the kitchen. I glanced up when Madame Blueberry started singing:

I'm so blue-hoo-hoo, Blue-hoo-hoo, Blue-hoo-hoo hoo!

Bob and Larry: She's so blue she don't know what to do!

My neighbors have nice things, I've seen them myself

In fact, I keep pictures up here on my shelf!

Look at this new flatware of Monsieur LaGoon's

And Monsieur DesPlanes has twelve Franklin mint spoons!

And Phillip Van Pea went and bought a new sink,

Why, he even has a disposal, I think!

And look at this crock pot of Madame Lacrosse's

And ceramic jars where she keeps all her sauces!

Nice sauces...

 Just look at this sofa of Edward and Tammy's,

And lovely armoire where they keep all their jammies!

I really can't stand it, I think I may die!

Now where was that hanky? I'm going to cry!   . . . . .Too late! Waaaah!

I thought to myself, “Yes! This berry can RELATE!” I plopped down next to Gillian to watch. The story unfolded as one where she learns to be THANKFUL for what she has. It ends with the ditty "Because a thankful heart is a happy heart! I'm glad for what I have, That's an easy way to start. For the love that He shares, 'Cause He listens to my prayers, That's why I say thanks every day!" The message hit me like a ton of bricks. And I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried.

From that moment I purposed to be thankful for the gift God had given us in this home. I daily thanked God and reminded myself of what we loved about this house. It was on a beautiful quiet street by a park and a lake and had more than enough space. We slowly but surely made it our own and eight and a half years later it looks nothing like it did when we moved in.  It is now exactly how we want it with new flooring and baseboards, paint colors I have chosen in every room, new light fixtures and appliances, new bathrooms, new furniture and a beautifully finished basement. I am thankful.

God has been so faithful to us. He has directed each step of this moving process as we felt Him lead us to wait in the past when we thought we should move and nudged us forward to purchase our new home. It has been my dream to raise my kids on a hobby farm and God saved me one. It had been on the market for two years at a price we could never afford but dropped in price the very day we sold our home. HIS timing is always perfect. It literally has EVERYTHING I had ever wanted in a hobby farm. It looks like a doll house and He made sure it had some of the features I love in my current home.  He even made sure I still had a toddler to watch grow there.  What a God of details.

As I pack up and grieve I am committed to not let myself fall into despair and ingratitude after I move into our new home. I know I will miss the wonderful people, convenience and features of this neighborhood. I will miss this house that we have lovingly made our home. I will be consoling my children whose little hearts are heavy to leave the only home they have ever known as well as best friends and their beloved park.  And I surely have my work cut out for me to make the new place feel like ours. (God thought we could deal with the cosmetics of the new house ourselves. It needs a little TLC.) But I am committed to being thankful.

I am excited for our new adventure as a family. I am so so so grateful for the opportunity to give my children room to roam. I pray that I will honor God by opening my home to friends, family, and strangers alike. I am excited for the future and trusting God as he has never ever failed this family. Dave keeps reminding the kids (and us grown ups) that the memories come with us.  And as strange as it seems to be hearing and seeing my children’s sweet faces in the stillness and quiet, there is one more voice I can’t get out of my head. That pesky berry. She is coming with me, too.

Toy Storage Rotation~City Mom

I've been praying that God would give me the ideas for this blog. I do really like to "express myself" so I find blogging is a nice outlet. I'm hoping in the midst of my "self expression" that I can bring some kind of encouragement/help/hope/life/light to anyone who may stumble across my little blogspot. 

I've been hesitating whether or not to share my "toy storage rotation system" with the world. I finally decided I would share...with this caveat: PLEASE do not compare your own system to mine (unless you feel that yours is superior...than by all means...feel free). I do not want to share one.single.thing that will make you as a mom (or dad for that matter) feel burdened or less than. My point in sharing this TOTALLY SIMPLE MINDED system, is that you may see it and go "light bulb!" and let it be an opportunity to get your own creative juices for storage going. Or just copy it. Or, share an even better system. Just don't put yourself down or lift me up higher than I should be lifted.

Deal?

OK...so, here it is!

My cooler than cool friend Amanda asked me to meet her at Ikea one day. We had been talking about the Ikea Expedit for awhile and how she had put nearly ALL of her six children's toys in it. We ate meatballs and roamed the store for a few hours and by the time I left, I knew I had to get the Expedit. I sold my Trofast and was saving money...when City Dad came up with his brilliant idea: "Look for it on craigslist." Not only did that brilliant man save me money on taxes, we (he) didn't have to set it up the shelving unit. He simply had to borrow his brother's truck and pick it up. Much better!

***(in case you are wondering...the blue and pink bins to the left and right of the Expedit are the Target "Itso's" and I love them more than I should. They can be re-configured into different shapes for different spaces (and oh have they been through many different stages in our home) and they are so cute. (The kid's school stuff is in there, so I won't say anymore about them now.)

I have books in the upper three shelves of the expedit. This is nice. Books aren't ALWAYS thrown all over the place all of the time anymore (hint*toddlers can't get to them as easily~don't freak out moms...I make them available to my JoJo, just not ALL of the books at all times). The top three shelves will look different once I get all of our school things for next "year" ready, but for now, they are a nice book spot. 

The bottom two shelves are filled with gender biased colored bins that I got from the Target dollar aisle. Maybe they were $2.50/piece but that's still kind of a steal. The children VERY EASILY put the "girl toys" in pink bins and the "boy toys" in blue ones. I don't label them (and you'll see why in a moment). 

You would be A.MAZED at how many stinking toys fit into 10 bins! These bins are on the main level of our house and can be moved to the family room or office or a bedroom if need be. But for the most part these are the ONLY toys accessible to the children. They have special things in their rooms (American Girl stuff and legos mainly--that could be entire storage blog post in itself). There is also a play kitchen in the above picture which you can not see. And the basement has gross motor toys that are available at all times (but most stay downstairs). 

This lovely storage shelving pictured above is in the basement. I got it on (ta-da!) craigslist. It is STURDY. And it holds...a LOT! All the rest of the kid's toys are in these bins. The idea is that every two weeks or so, we bring the canvas bins from the main level, down into the basement and swap out toys. In each bin you see, there are toys (grouped in plastic Target bags). You empty the "current" week's canvas bin into a plastic bag and put it in a downstairs storage bin. Then you take out a plastic bag of toys from a storage bin, empty it into the canvas bin, bring it upstairs and wa-la! your toys are swapped! Simple, isn't it?

This is a LIFE saver for me. When kid's are home all day it is nice to change up the flavor of "tools" for them to use in play time. It is also nice to not always have access to every tool (toy). We value things being "tidy" while also valuing the idea of actually using what we have.

This is my way of "subduing" (as Sally Clarkson would say) our toys in the home. 

It is fun to go "toy shopping" with the kids and pull things out that haven't seen the sunlight in awhile!

How do you store/subdue toys? Do you have a "toy rotation"? How does it work? Just ask JuBe, I'll be changing this up in about four months (I have ants in my pants!)...so share your ideas so I can store them away for future needs! 

On another quick note...

I did wake up on Mother's Day to a BEAUTIFUL perler beaded heart. I've gotten a lot of perler bead hearts for Mother's Day over the years...but this one has such a special story attached to it (Mommy, she broke my heart!) that I had to share the pictures of the surprises I was blessed with first thing in the morning.

His Version of Four~City Mom

I got home from the gym tonight and this is how I found my Odes. Standing in the back yard, blue shorts too big for his body, a batman night shirt inside out, complete with bike helmet (he does not yet know how to ride). I felt a lump rising in my throat. I know exactly why.

There's just SOMEthing about a four year old.

Odes was an extremely content baby. He nuzzled into the Moby wrap and the Ergo carriers almost like an extension of the womb. He never cried. Ever. He laughed. He smiled. He let us pass him to nearly anyone at church. He began talking early. At a year he was a bullet running around the house and his mouth went faster than his feet. The pediatrician asked me at his yearly check up, "how many words does he say?" I laughed and said, "everything!" She looked at me doubtfully and then her jaw dropped when he began to sing, "The boys are back, yeah, the boys are back" (from High School Musical).

Years 1.5 to 3.5 were blurrishly exhausting with this boy. He'd say cute things like "Mommy, can you get my winter on?" when he wanted to go outside. But, I also had to come up with ways to keep him from destroying EVERY MOMENT of our homeschooling efforts. We'd put him in a gate with a snack and the ipod or a special toy. That worked for a short time. We tried to encourage him to sit on my lap. That never worked. He was often making some kind of offense toward me or one of the other kids. We'd strap him in his car seat to keep him in a "time out" (don't get nervous, I didn't leave him in there alone). I called my parents in Florida saying I simply did not know what to do! We'd school during his nap, but by then, we were all so exhausted by our attempts at "play" from the morning that none of us wanted to sit down and focus on anything. He got kicked out of the church nursery at the church we visited when he was not even two. The workers thought he'd do better with the pre-school aged class. We found him with the pre-schoolers, charming the teacher and participating in the little study.

I need to say...during this time Odes brought us delightful gifts as well. He decided at 2.5 one day when he woke up that he was "done" with diapers. He walked over to the toilet, used it, and never wore a diaper or pull-up afterward. Not even at night. He just potty~trained. The end. He made us laugh...unendingly. At DisneyWorld, he'd get measured to see if he was tall enough to go on a ride. After the ride, he'd beg to go on again and would go up to the worker to get measured again. When they said he was tall enough he'd jump up and down and say "I'm big enough! I can go on!"

But something happened when Odes turned four. First of all, his eyes began to open up to Jesus. During communion in church he began asking things like, "Am I *in* Christ mommy? How do I know if I am saved or not?" He told me he wanted Jesus to pay for his sins and to follow Him. Even tonight as he sat on my lap, he felt the need to check in with me again to make sure that it was simply Jesus payment for sin on the cross that helped him receive eternal life, and nothing in himself which he had to do. And whether it is his new found love of Jesus or turning age four, there is something in me that wants to slow down the clock a little and keep him right here...just for a little longer.

Life these days with my four year old Odes looks like this:
~When he got up just a little earlier than everyone else, and couldn't find me because I was in the shower, he sat in the play room, looking sad. When I found that he was not in his room, I searched and found him there. His tear stained eyes looked up at me and said, "I'm so glad you are MY mommy!"

~He runs to me when I come home from the gym or an errand like I'd been gone on vacation. He leaps into my arms and hugs and kisses over & over.

~Odes says, "please mommy, can we read "I'm Special, I'm Me" one more time? And will you change the names in it to our family like you do?

~When he goes to the Dr. and they offer him stickers he picks one out and then asks, "But would it be OK if I picked one out for my brother and sisters?"

~He curls up in my lap after naps, or any chance he can get and asks me to hold him.

~His heart longs to be kind toward others and obedient to me. When he messes up, he readily submits to a "do-over" as long as I am empathetic and understanding of how it is he is feeling.

~Odes was working on perler beads...his very first "big" project all on his own. He asked me not to look at it. I told him I *might* have to peek at it just a bit, if I was going to be the one to iron it. When he finished the project, he came up to me with the pink heart behind his back saying, "pink IS your favorite color, right?" and a few minutes later, "I have only ONE thing for you for Mother's Day mommy." And that night when his new little friend found the heart and it broke in her hands he came running to me saying "She broke my heart mommy!" He is still four, fortunately mommy can still take care of things like that. (At 10 pm I got out my iron, adhered the parts back together and left presumably my Mother's Day gift next to his spot at the table with an "I love you Odes" note next to it.)

~Odes asks me nearly every day, "Mommy, let's play guys, just you & me." And I do. Because, and oh, I'm getting choked up thinking this...but he won't be asking me to be playing "guys" for much longer.

You see...I didn't understand, when JuBe and Peebs were four, that there is some kind of turning point when a child turns 5. They begin to separate more. They begin to form friendships. They don't get quite as excited when mommy comes in the room. They don't want to be on my "team" anymore when we play Sequence. They won't put on silly clothes with no thought of what others think. They don't hold my hand quite as readily in public. They may still sit on my lap, but their long legs and gangly bodies don't fit quite as comfortably for long periods of time. They don't tell me EVERYthing on their mind. They don't like toys as much and aren't quite as enthralled with things like "Rescue Heroes" or stuffed animals.

But my little four year old...he's still all mine. At least for a little while longer. I plan to cherish each day of this year with my Odes...and all my babies and the sweet phases they are in. Today, I just can't shake "there's just something about a four year old." Makes me want to go run over and curl up next to him and cuddle him just a bit before I head to bed. These sweet days pass so quickly.

Is there an age or stage that you've really loved with your children? I'd love to hear about it!!!

Smiles & Laughter~City Mom

I laughed a lot today.

I remember when Jube was two, reading or hearing something about how many times a toddler laughs during the day. It's sad to think that you laugh less as you age.

As parents we have so many opportunities to laugh (these were from just the last 45 minutes of our day):

During devotions when JoJo interrupts over and over saying, "Ummmm, Daddy, I know! GOD! No, no, Jesus!"

When one kid repeats "shake your booty" over and over until the baby starts saying it but mis-pronouncing the word.

Hearing Peebs giggle uncontrollably.

Reading "Richard Scarry" books and watching Odes laugh hysterically when Ma Pig's car gets crushed in a construction worker's arms.

Putting JoJo to bed and listening to her saying "Buzz Lightyear, buzz buzz" and then letting out fake laughter 15 times in a row.

JuBe & Peebs sharing jokes: "Why did the Chicken cross the playground Mommy?" To get to the other "slide."

There are so many times to SMILE as well. The other day I was looking at my children as they were telling me little tid-bits of things going on in their hearts and I realized how sober my face was. Sober and maybe a tad "distant" as well. I shook myself and put a big smile on my face as I asked a follow up question to the story. Peebs face lit up and he kept talking and pouring more of his heart and ideas out to my softened face that looked at him with adoration. In fact, my demeanor change affected him so much, that he literally followed me around the rest of that day, talking, sharing, hugging, and engaging me.

When is the last time you evaluated what your face looks like to your kids? Try it! What kind of non-verbals are you communicating?

Here's a time when it's really hard to smile...but very important: when they mess up. I got this concept from Jim & Lynne Jackson from Connected Families: SMILE when they do something wrong? Yes! Smiling, hugging, getting down on their level when they've done something sassy or trying or frustrating.

I started doing this a few months ago. I remember one particular day, Odes was having a really hard time and every time I pulled him aside to talk about what was going on in his heart, he'd look at me a little funny until he finally said, "Mommy, why do you keep smiling at me when I mess up?"

Here is why sweet little boy: I sin in my heart often. I resist God's leading in my life. I think bad thoughts. I lose my temper. I make rude comments. And you know what? God looks at me, and through His kindness, draws me to repentance. God has a righteous anger toward sin...but Jesus lives in me and that's what He sees! He is ever so kind and gracious and merciful.

If God can look at me like that with my adult sins that should be more tempered...why should I look at YOU, precious little one who is still learning right from wrong, and scowl when you mess up?
When I smile at you, you open your heart to me. You feel safe. You feel loved. You feel like you can trust this Mama to process through the issue. If I frown and scowl, will that lead you to heart change? Or will you just simply learn to try to please me with actions? Or turn away from me because I never seem to have empathy or understand?

So, I smile. I hug. I kiss...when they are funny, when they are naughty, when they are silly. I hold them to a standard of high ideals...oh yes! After all, I'm looking to shape their hearts~not just let them have their own way without accountability. My goal is to accomplish that "shaping" with love & tenderness ~ (more and more every day...this is NOT easy for me and I don't have it down perfectly).

My questions for you today: Have you noticed your face while interacting with your children? Or spouse? Or friends? Or co-workers? Or acquaintances? What are you communicating with that face? What would you like to communicate? Try a smile and see how much of a difference you can make!

Homeschool Lyceum~City Mom

I need to preface this by saying, "yes, I know how extremely blessed we are!"
One of the things that can be difficult about the choice of the homeschool lifestyle is the perception of things missed. I have thought of the elementary school lyceums or little parties or holiday programs and at times wondered if my kids were really missing out. However, there are so many ways to make life "special" or "stand out" when your kids are home. Sometimes you need just a little creativity or ingenuity. Sometimes you just need some AMAZING parents/grandparents to kick it in gear!

Last Thursday was National Day of Prayer. My dad called early in the week and said he wanted to do an event with my kiddos and my brother's kids. We sat around our kitchen table while Papa taught us a bit about the constitution and the history of the day. We talked about our freedoms in this country and some of the beliefs of the founding-fathers. Dad came awesomely prepared and we enjoyed the content, with a few giggles inserted here and there from the little's antics. I think we all especially loved when little JoJo went on & on & on about President Obama. I mean, it really is fun to say his name!

 

Then...we prayed.

pre.cious

 I know many homeschooling families do not have the support of people in their lives. So believe me, it brought me to tears more than once, to realize that my children and I were sitting in my home with my brother's homeschooled kids and his wife, and our precious Papa & Nana as they poured their lives into us. I loved that dad picked the "National Day of Prayer" to honor...but to be totally honest, it could have been ANYthing and I would have been just as moved. To know we have their support is amazing. To know they want to pass on the legacy of Christ to their grandchildren is a blessing beyond the description of words.

The kids wore all of their new "Arizona" t-shirts they got in Easter baskets from Papa and Nana's recent visit.

Oh, I love these boys so much! 

Sweet cousins

 Mom/Nana brought over pre-made lunches for all the kids...complete with drink boxes and fruit leathers. First they provided us with educational material based on values we desire to promote and then FEED us too?!?!?

Thanks for lunch Nana/Nan/Nanny/Neena/NewKnee/Hannah

As I watch my parents interact with the world, I'm challenged. I want to look at their example and reach out and serve and give to others. I want to live selflessly in my home with my own children. Thank you Mom and Dad/Papa & Nana for shining your lights for us, for loving us, for encouraging us and investing your lives in us. It means more than you will ever know!

So, blog readers...I'd love to hear from you! What do you do in your home to make certain days stand out more than others? Are their significant people in your lives that give of themselves in your homeschooling efforts? Is this something you desire, but lack? How are YOU shining your light to encourage others in their home educational efforts? Share the LOVE ;)
Thanks for reading!