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Monthly Archives: October 2011

Continuing in my effort to actually delve into all those pictures I take month by month . . .

Last August we were pretty much doing the same thing as now, climbing trees, playing on rocks, etc. Over a year and so much is the same yet so much has changed, not the least of which is the baby man who now joins us on our adventures. Also we have a solid year of school under our belt so we know a bit more about all the bugs we see on our walks!

I love these little boys so much and it’s so fun to see how close they are. I don’t deserve them and I wish I could be the perfect mom for them. God holds them though and I am thankful he has given me these sweet days of childhood with them.

Today was one of those magical days of homeschooling where tedium and striving fall away into pure delight. I wish we could redeem every day like that, but I just soaked it in and then went on a long, lovely walk with my little men. It was fun to come home and dig through photos and see that as they keep getting bigger we can make time stand still a bit by just being outside together, learning, climbing trees and rocks, and doing whatever comes next in a little boy’s day.

August 2010

Back when FroYo was a novel idea to us . . . When we moved here a year ago the kids got such a kick out of self serve Fro Yo. Now we have moved onto bigger and better things as we search out and sample SoCal’s authentic gelato. Cali you’re in our blood and in our soul. Our clan hasn’t actually lived here that long, but two were born here. It’s hard making a home when you don’t know how long you can stay, but that’s not stopping me for falling head over heals.

mmmmm frozen gummy worms covered in melted frozen yogurt. Now that’s delicious.

August 2010 . 24-70 . outdoor shade . just learning my new camera

This is a doll I made my neighbor’s daughter a year ago during the end of my pregnancy with Jeremiah. Now here goes with the philosophical ramblings…

I started making dolls shortly after I lost Joshua. I made them for little girl’s birthdays. I made them for little girls whose mommies were sick. I was kind of obsessed with making them. I kept making them as Jeremiah was formed inside of me. I made them as I waited, hoping to hold him and afterward with him snuggled on my chest nurturing his fragile little life. Looking back I see it was a way to create without the chaos or fear of failure. A sure fire way to make something I could hold, to see a child’s smile.

As my little Jeremiah grows and toddles now I have little time to snuggle and sew. Still I string scraps on banners and deck the halls. I drape curtains and buy fabric for Grandma to sew outfits with love stitched right into them. Is this why we sew? A generation of women pulling out dusty machines searching for patterns, sharing skills, printing fabric, reviving traditions.

Because stitching our love has always been a way to care for, protect and delight, to tell them we are their mothers, grandmothers, friends. To cover them in our love, like no machine made, money bought thing can. We give them our handsewn hearts to play with, wear and sleep under. We try to construct a future from a patchwork of well worn wishes, passed down. Health and happiness I hope for my children just as every link in the chain before me. Mother’s and parents with busy hands, we pray for our children’s bodies, hearts and souls.

We sew our hopes and wishes into the very fiber of their world. Wishes for the magic of childhood to last, for the bloom of adulthood to be strong and beautiful. In a world we can’t control we form fabric, bake, garden, paint because theses are things we CAN do. Working in needle and thread we craft our deepest desires.

I shot a session with my friend’s  family before her husband deployed recently. Her boys are friends with mine and just as full of energy. It was fun to give them a beach, baseballs and shovels and watch them leap into action. I was swept along with the sweet energy of their family, running from one game to the next. I saw it in her eyes though and I remembered. That soft sigh, holding each moment in, treasuring it, knowing you have to let go soon. Savoring each minute together to give you the strength to make it through the months apart.

The sun sank low and the images grew even more beautiful as the light fled. I thought about how it’s those times of adversity that bring the beauty, that show the real stuff of life, what holds a family together. The love is pictured clearer in the dusky moments. And the coming home, oh the coming home . . . It’s glorious and maybe even worth every second apart . . .

Thank you for letting me share this night with you, boys running and dad playing. Thank you for your sweet open spirit, it was a joy to sketch your family. And hello, does girlfriend have gorgeous eyes or what?!

I love seeing his thoughts come out on paper. I love that he can ascribe letters to what’s on his mind now. Boiling it all down to words he can spell all by himself. More than the crudely formed symbols and charming pictures, I love that these words are written of his own initiative. He takes a moment from all important bug catching, bike riding, Lego building, soccer playing, brother wrestling, noise making mayhem, and sits down to write in his spare time. Of his own volition, letters build words, string together into sentences, and on to form paragraphs. Miracle of miracles, haltingly he reads and writes. Of caterpillars and Christopher Columbus, crab catching and shelter building, he muses prosaically.

This is why I tread lightly the dance. Not wanting to drill the joy and wonder from learning, still desiring to equip them with all the tools they will need. Let them play, lay before them a feast of knowledge, skills and reason, then when the time is right . . .

What use is a man with a mind full of facts if he has no desire to make his mark? What good is a man full of fire if he has not the tools to light a spark?

So many days I feel I am only stumbling along. And then there are the days when all systems are go, we are firing on all cylinders and I perceive that at the end of a long, beautiful journey we may just make it to the moon and back. Anything might be possible. The days when the school room is bathed in light, building blocks click, and phonics rings out a harmonious melody. Yesterday it was conference day, and there were murmurs that the steps to the dance are going well. IT in all it’s indescribable wonder is there and we will hang our hats on that immeasurable success as we run and trip, march slowly along and dance!

“The question is not, — how much does the youth know? when he has finished his education — but how much does he care? and about how many orders of things does he care? In fact, how large is the room in which he finds his feet set? and, therefore, how full is the life he has before him?”                             ― Charlotte Mason, School Education: Developing a Curriculum

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