Emergency Room Visit

 Warning: if blood makes you squeamish you may want to skip this post!

On the way to the hospital last night, Phil and I remarked that in nine years of parenting we felt pretty blessed that this was our first trek for stitches.

Right as we were getting ready to start our small group study I heard Wesley screaming.  It sounded like his pain wail so I felt it best to investigate.  As I reached the stair well I heard one of the girls say quick go get mom.  I raced up knowing that if they felt it appropriate to interrupt our group that it must be bad.

I entered the girls room to Wesley screaming with a washcloth pressed up on his head and blood streaming down his face.  I lifted the rag and saw a deep gash and knew this was going to require more than a snuggle and bandaid.  I swooped him up and hustled down the stairs.  As I entered the family room I said Phil I think this is going to need stitches.  The buzz of activity stopped and Phil confirmed that yes it did.  Our friends quickly gathered up their belongings as we deliberated prompt care vs emergency room.  Given the lateness of the hour it had to be a trip to the hospital.  Our friends were so sweet and helped the girls get ready and took them back to their house.  I quickly changed Miles and packed a diaper bag while Phil got Wesley calmed down and out to the van.

Once they had a chance to take his vitals and get him settled in they took a look at the gash.  'I think we can glue it' was the doctor's opinion.  Tripping and falling into the leg of the loft bed left a clean edged gash.  The doctor and nurse were so amazed at how calm Wesley was.  I told them to be thankful that it was past his bedtime and that sleepiness was playing a large role in his good patient demeanor.  Usually Wesley will scream at the sight of blood, and will continue to scream until it has stopped.

They got all the blood cleaned off his face and numbed up the wound.  The doctor came back and glued it shut.  Lo and behold it stuck!  Yes, bad joke, but you gotta make light of a not so fun situation.  After chilling for a bit longer to make sure it dried we were on our way.  Picked up the kids from our friends and went home to go to bed.  Wesley was very excited about the stickers and rubber duck the nurse gave him and chatted about it the whole way home.  Then the girls asked about their own previous emergency room visits.

One dose of pain medication and a good night sleep and you'd never know the experience Wesley had.  Well, other than the glued gash on his head!

waiting room

poor baby!

being a good patient

slightly terrified of the whole process

resting while waiting for numbing agent to do its magic

numbed up and ready to be glued

passed out waiting for the glue to dry

today he's good as new!

Meeting with a General Contractor

Yesterday late in the afternoon we made the next step toward our dream.  We met with a general contractor.  We were armed with a page full of questions and an almost completed set of drawings.  I spent half of the afternoon getting the house ready and attempting (unsuccessfully) to relax the nervous knot in my stomach.  I internalize stress and it wreaks havoc with my tummy.  When the G.C. came I was still a bundle of nerves, and just sat and listened to him and Phil speak.  Phil has quite an intense stare.  It really comes out in debates and questioning (I'm guessing his students are subjected to it frequently) and usually makes me uncomfortable.  I was impressed with how the G.C. fielded all of Phil's inquiries (with an equally unnerving stare).

We had lots of good conversation.  G.C. thinks our plans are pretty neat in an oddly workable way.  We learned that a leech field is better for our situation than a septic system given the flood plain issue. Different types of foundation were discussed.  G.C. helped us figure out who to contact for getting power and a culvert out there.  The stomach sinking portion of the conversation was when he said that plans always change during a build, it's inevitable.  Inside I thought 'please no, we've been working out the details for almost six months!' and 'we are going to have to be super careful with the changes we make so our house doesn't cost us a fortune'.  The cheer worthy parts happened when we found out that building in the country is a lot more lax than in the city, and when G.C. said we had done 90% of the work already.

Our next step is figuring out exactly what we want the G.C. to do.  He knows that we are DIYers and want to do as much of it that we can ourselves.  There are obvious portions that we cannot do such as the foundation, plumbing, and electrical.  We know we can do the finishing touches like trim work and painting, which will save us a few thousand dollars.  It is the gray areas of knowledge and experience in framing and drywalling that we will have to decide who is doing it.  I have a hunch that there will be many hours of deliberation coming up for Phil and I as we hash out the details.

As I sit here and type, my nerves are strung up tight. It's getting so real to me now.   We are rapidly leaving the dreaming zone for the working reality.  In one month we will be listing our house.  Getting a bid from the General Contractor.  Woah, yeah, it's getting real.  I think I better go and breathe for a bit.  As the days fly by and we dive even deeper into building our own little homestead I'm going to need to breathe more and more.  Best get to practicing!

The Little Boy Who Didn't Like Cake

Once upon a time there was a little boy.  He was a big fan of nursing, but real food was hit or miss.  He loved his vegetables but would normally pass on the fruits.  One day he had a birthday.  Birthday's in his family meant celebrating with something sweet.














His mama wondered if he would like his cake or not.  He was such a trooper and kept trying his cake over and over again.

















But it turns out that he really did not like cake and kept spitting it out while giving the lemon face.





































The next day he celebrated again.  This time the mama gave him a popcorn ball that looked like a snowman.

He liked the chip nose.  After trying a nibble of the popcorn ball he threw it, after all it was ball shaped!


















His sisters tried giving it back to him time and time again.  Alas the little boy still did not like to celebrate in that style.









Finally the mama gave up and let him open his present.  Then he was a much happier little boy.  The end.

Words

Today is the day that I don't have anything noteworthy to write.  Yet I yearn to 'pen' something.  So instead of racking my brain I'm turning to my archives.  The folder full of poems I wrote in high school were found so I leafed through them and decided that this one fit the day quite nicely.  I struggle daily in speaking life and not wounding those I love with my tongue.  This poem is a reminder of my quest to say lovely, peaceable, and pure words.

Now the question that is flitting through my head is this--I penned those poems under my maiden name, do I change it to my married name or leave it as is?  I suppose until I mentally resolve that issue I'll just leave either last name off.   Irregardless, here is the selection titled Words which I'm fairly certain was inspired by Shakespeare.

Words

Alicia Lea

Oh words, do not fail me!

Do not leave my mouth open, gasping, looking for you!

How many numerous times hast thou been by my side and then quickly departed!

Must you besiege me with your humiliations?

Must you equip my tongue with sharp, hurtful, pride wounding phrases?

Oh words, why must thou mock, shame, deliver, and praise?

Where is thy unity in being true to thine own self?

Miles Nathanael's Birth Story

Today is a momentous day.  Miles is one and I am letting you into a very sacred place in my heart.  I have deliberated sharing this for the last year as intentionally giving birth at home is a very controversial subject.  However, it is a wonderful story which needs to be shared.

Regardless of your feelings surrounding the topic, please keep any comments positive.  Thank you and enjoy!



Dear Miles,

Your story actually starts a day earlier than when you finally began to come to our lives.

Heartburn during labor, just couldn't escape it.

On Friday I had been having contractions and bloody show sporadically through the day and at 2:30 they picked up in rhythm and intensity.  When Abi came home from school I realized I was not handling noises well, so at 3:30 I called Phil at Westridge and told him to come home.  He got home and I went and laid down in the dark and quiet.  I had my last contraction at 7pm.  We optimistically thought that my body was just taking a break and things would pick up later in the night.  Nothing happened except painfully crushing heartburn that kept me awake until nearly 3am.

I awoke Saturday, exhausted, angry, and put off that once again my body had stopped.  I told Phil to field all phone calls and I decided I was going to pretend that I wasn't pregnant for the day.  We spent the day snacking, napping, and watching movies.  It was peaceful and just what I needed.  As we were putting the kids to bed together that night, I had a pain, Phil asked if it was a contraction to which I replied 'no I don't think so'.  We started watching the movie Captain America when I realized that, yes, they actually were contractions.  Phil timed them for a while on the pocket watch that I gave him for Christmas one year and to my surprise they were about 6 minutes apart.  At 8pm we called Heidi and Rebecca and gave them a pre-notice that maybe something was going on and we'd stay in touch.  At 8:30 Phil called Heidi and asked if she was ready to braid some hair and then called Rebecca.  When Heidi came, she braided my hair into two french braids.  Rebecca arrived shortly after Heidi finished.  They were surprised at how upbeat and in good spirits I was.  As my back and hips started to get achy, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to get in the tub for some pain relief.  But I knew I couldn't get in yet and risk stopping labor!  Rebecca started using the contraction timer app on her phone around 10:30 and finally around midnight there was a general consensus that I could get in the water.  Oh what bliss and relief!  Felling light and in less discomfort I labored for quite a while in the tub.  Phil woke the girls up at about 12:30 when I stated I was feeling pushy and that it might not be much longer.  They were quite excited that you were finally going to be born!

Rebecca squeezing my hips for contraction relief.  Lovely low lighting

I have to back up for a moment and remember that earlier in the night at the end of a contraction you would wiggle and it would tickle me internally so I would end up laughing, which I think startled those who were there.  I loved the atmosphere we had created with the dim light of the salt lamps glowing and the electric fireplace 'flickering'  it was so calm and peaceful.  Also, as a knitter we prayed that God would bind you off and be born to us soon.

This man has been by loving champion through four births and one miscarriage.  Words can never express what the heart feels in those moments.

At 2:17am while laboring in the tub my water broke.  There was no popping sensation like I had with my land births, it just felt like I was peeing and peeing.  Shortly thereafter things really picked up and started to get intense and I tried breathing you down.  I had been hoping to breath you out and use the fetal ejection reflex that I had read about.  I started to get really hot, so I stood up and did some semi squats through the contractions.  Phil looked and could see you, but I couldn't when handed the mirror.

I got out and labored on the bed and then on the toilet.  I found the hip and back pain to be more intolerable there so I opted to get back in the tub.  But soon I was much too hot and got out again.  Back to the bed I went.  By now I was getting exhausted and I realized that the only way I was going to get out of this was by pushing, not breathing.  So I started pushing.  It was not the welcomed relief that it had been in the past.  It was hard and it hurt and I didn't want to do it!  Thankfully everyone really upped their encouragements and verbal affirmations.  I flipped from hands and knees to semi-reclined.  And then I pushed and screamed and I pushed some more.  I didn't think you would ever crown, but I wasn't going to quit pushing until you did.  Finally your head came out, it looked massive over the peak of my belly.  I held you head and waited.  Then I felt you rotate and with another loud shriek and push I got you out.  For that first second I saw you laying there white (due to vernix but I couldn't see that since I wasn't wearing my glasses) and not moving I thought you were dead.  But when daddy picked you up to hand to me you jerked and my split second of sheer terror vanished.  I couldn't believe you were covered in vernix as none of your siblings were, and how slippery that made you.  I looked up at Abi and said 'what time is it, what time was the baby born?!'  In her excitement she stumbled trying to get the time out of her mouth, but finally exclaimed '4:17!'

He's here!

First family shot

You took a few lusty cries and then promptly settled down as I gently rubbed in the vernix.  Soon we took a peek to discover you were a boy!  I remarked that I thought I had felt little boy parts in my hand that was supporting your bottom.  Then Abi ran upstairs and woke Wesley up so he could meet you.  In about 10 minutes after you were born I felt the placenta detach.  I told the gals to fetch the bowl.  On the first push just some blood and clots came out.  Pushed again in another minute or two and voila there came the placenta.  We broke out the sparkling juice and toasted your birth.  I found it humorous that you wouldn't nurse on the right side which has been everyone else's favorite side.  As the adrenaline started to wear off, we realized that you needed to have your cord burned.  Lizzi decided she was too scared and tired, so Phil took her place.  It was beautiful watching Phil and Abi burn your cord to sever the link between you and the placenta.  The smell reminded me of our last camp fire.  Once that was completed, and I had eaten my eggs and toast, was washed and checked for tears, none-hooray!

cord burning

Miles so attentive during cord burning

first weighing

We got you ready to be weighed and measured.  Phil put you in the sling and then hung it on the digital fish scale.  The math revealed 9lbs 8ozs.  None of them believed it as they thought you were around 8.  So Phil hopped on Heidi's scale and then again with you in his arms.  The original amount stood as once again it weighed you at 9lbs 8ozs!  then we pulled out the tape measure to find you were 21 inches long.  Your head was 14.5 inches and you chest 14 inches.

second weighing + some snuggles with daddy

Finally we could settle in for sleep.  The girls were tucked in upstairs, Wesley's mattress was made near the bookcase, you were snuggled up on daddy's chest shortly after 6am.  And so began the start of our newly revised family.

falling asleep on daddy

Miles, it is my wish, just as I stated for your toast, that you will grow into your name.  May you be a soldier for Christ, loving many people to the Lord, and may you be a gift in other's lives like you are to us.  May you also be a hero to your wife, and support her in a dream, whether you share it or not.  As a a friend said--you were worth it all--and I love you my sweet son.

Surviving The Stomach Flu

This has been a week of survival in our home.  Sunday night was met with Wesley throwing up throughout the night.  Monday morning I grabbed my dusty coffee pot and made a pot of half regular and half decaf so I could sip some energy throughout the day.  Tuesday Miles joined the puke fest.  Wednesday Lizzi lost it in the hallway, and Phil came home sick.  Yesterday was my turn.  Blessedly I never spewed but felt the full effects of this stomach bugs force and was confined to the couch the whole day.

The kids were awesome and helped each other out.  Abi took it upon herself to cook for them, and although they never had any vegetables yesterday, they ate.  They mothered Miles as much as possible and let me nap whenever the need arose.  This was the first time that I can remember that I've made it through the flu without Phil or Rose coming in and tending to the children.  Sure the house is in shambles from them playing (nicely!) together the whole day, but we made it.  I've only washed my bedding three times this week and all of our towels at least twice.  If Abi gets through unscathed it would be a small miracle.  I always wonder how larger families make it when member after member falls prey to such icky viruses.  I think I may have just had a glimpse with all of the teamwork that happened this week!

Guest Post--Sucked In!

I am so very pleased to have Abi as a guest poster today.  She has been hard at work on this story for the last week.  She really enjoyed taking the picture for the story, and typing it up even more.  I hope you enjoy her short story Sucked In.

                                Sucked In!

  Help! Help!

  It all began on January 13, 2014 9:13.  It all ended on January 13, 2014 at 7:30.

  I was feeding my fish Ethen. Not just me, me and my teddy bear.  Just then my teddy bear was sucked in my clock!

  

   Help!  Help!  While we were getting sucked in we were getting smaller. We went though my clock that took a minute.

  At 9:14 I was one inch tall.  My teddy bear was alive!  She can jump 2 feet and one inch.  She did not shrink!  That was the beginning of my not so small adventure!  Actually my teddy bear was five inches tall!  Soon I was on my teddy bear back.  By the way my teddy bear's name is Olivia.  We went down the hall, down the stairs, and out the door, to the airport and on a plane that goes to China!

  Twenty three hours later we landed.  We tried to get off but a Chinese girl grabbed us!  "Mommy!  Mommy! A teddy bear!  "Wow we'll keep it."  They said this all in Chinese.  "Daddy!  Daddy!  A teddy bear!"

  Abi wake up it's 7:30. It was all a dream!

                                     The End!

  

         

Showing My Imperfections

I am a first born.  I am raising a first born daughter.  We both have an overwhelming desire to do everything 'perfect'.  Today I was given the opportunity to show that I'm not perfect.

Today Abi sat there seething about how much she hated handwriting.  Every little mistake compounded her frustration.  The grunts of exasperation were getting louder until she blew her top.  After forgetting to double space a line (self imposed) of her story she lost it.
 "It's my best sentence I don't want to have to erase it and start over again!  Argh!"
I pulled her aside and let her know that I wasn't expecting it to be perfect, just the best that she could give me.  No one's perfect except Jesus, we all make mistakes.  How you react to them and what you learn from them is what's important.  When I told her that everything I've made has an imperfection she was astounded.  I showed her Miles' doll.

See the nose?

Yes.

Do you see how it's smudgy?

Yeeeees.

I took a pen and drew on a nose but didn't like how it turned out so I tried to erase it and now his doll will forever have a smear near his nose.

But it's still so cute!

Right, but I could have gotten mad at how I didn't use a pencil first and ruined his doll, or I can just enjoy it mistake and all.  Would you like to see some of my other projects?

No, I get what you're saying (insert grumpy voice).

I went on to explain to her that the more she practices the easier it will get.  I should probably tell her how much I disliked cooking when we were first married...

Home schooling isn't all daisy and roses, there are a lot of brambles along this path.  I don't always remember to talk so lovingly, it's why I pray for patience and wisdom daily.  I am grateful for all of the learning experiences we are having together that aren't scripted in my curriculum.  These are moments that she will remember more over anything poured out of a book.

Getting There

Instead of lamenting over how much sleep I lost last night on the account of sick little people, I'm choosing to fist pump the accomplishments of the weekend.

1. We got the ping pong room painted.  Three years after crayons were drawn upon the wall and unsuccessfully removed (stinking builders paint!), the room has met its match with our roller brush.

2.  We purged and packed up the game closet outside of those few favorites that are used frequently.

3.  We sorted through all photos and have selected the ones to be digitized.  Now a whole entire bookcase of photo albums won't have to be moved, and the tv will be used as one giant digital photo frame.

4.  All holiday books, scrapbooks, and extra devotionals are packed up.

5.  We replaced the faulty light in the entry way.

6.  We fixed a (just discovered) leaking pipe

I know it doesn't seem like much on paper, but it gives a huge sense of accomplishment and a feeling of perhaps we really will make our deadline.  The only places left to sort and purge are the laundry room, my craft room, and the garage.  Go us, we really are getting there!

Miles' Birthday Present

In eleven days my baby turns one.  I'm not sure how that happened.  This last year has been one love filled blur.  Usually for the first birthday we purchase our kiddos a doll.  For Abi and Lizzi we found some handmade ones that didn't cost a fortune on ebay.  Wesley was so into Legos that we got him a plush lego man doll.  I had contacted a few gals on a facebook group.  Their prices were well beyond our budget.  Then I remembered that I had one of my Grandma's books on making plush toys and dolls.  I decided to at least give it a shot.  If it turned out horrid then buying would become a backup option.

It was nice to revisit my fabric and sewing machine, a luxury not seen in too long to remember.  I found the pattern and decided that while the directions were vague I could probably figure it out.  It was so lovely to look through Grandma's odds and ends to find something that would work to make an outfit.  All was going smoothly until it came time to attach the head.  I didn't want the poor lil' guy to be floppy so I left the book behind and searched the internet.  After perusing some various ways I opted for an old baby washcloth rolled up to give him some support.

As I worked I had my doubts.  He looked like a gingerbread man to Wesley.  When I was attaching his head there were pins sticking out everywhere which made him look like a voodoo doll.  I was almost ready to throw in the towel right then and there.  Who would want to receive a creepy doll?  It was almost painful to look at him as I labored.  After completing his hairpiece I decided that things were looking up.  Phil agreed that he was looking more gift worthy.  Last night I made the outfit and I have to say, he looks super cute in a Raggedy Andy sort of way!

I'm looking forward to seeing Miles' face when he opens the package.  I'm sure it won't be met with as much enthusiasm as it was made, but that's ok.  I know that when he gets a bit older and into imaginative play his baby will take a shining role in his adventures.  I just hope that the doll will hold up to the love that will be lavished upon him through the years!

Playground In Winter

Every Sunday on the way to church we drive by the same park.  One time I glanced out and was struck by the haunting beauty of the play equipment against the stark bleak winter landscape.  The poem that follows was inspired by that drive.  I tried to continue it through the seasons but in the end decided to keep it short and sweet.

Playground In Winter

A. L. Zlomke

A playground in the winter

is like a stately widow

peeking through tattered lace curtains

hoping someone will come over and visit

Chinese New Year Dragon

Today amidst many grumpy family members (the mama included) I made the executive decision to quit the formal studies and hit the couch for some reading and playtime.  Ms Frizzle's Adventures in Imperial China was selected.  We started reading about the Chinese New Year and when we got to the dragon in the parade I just knew that was our ticket to some much needed light heartedness.  We found a sheet and grabbed Grammy's Crocheted Dragon hat out of the closet.  A quick search on youtube found some music to set the mood.  A quick rehearsal proved to amp up some needed giggles.  We took a short video (which won't upload here despite my many efforts) which ended with Wesley getting bumped, turning around and slugging Abi who in turn clunked heads with Lizzi.  Thus my efforts ended in tears with three crying children.  Miles proceeded to join in the display of sadness when I set him down to try and comfort the others.  Thankfully, the tears switched to laughter once they saw the video of themselves as the Chinese dragon.

Later we made paper lanterns which surprisingly was a craft they all could do (located here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeZKYGmuZn0 if you want to do it with your kids).  We are currently brainstorming ideas on how to light them up without using candles.  Some current solutions are hiding flashlights inside, borrowing Grandmas flameless candles, and christmas lights.

We are really enjoying our studies of China and are pretty excited about the geography fair we'll get to participate in later this spring.  The kids are a fountain of ideas of what they'd like to do--serve tea, water, rice.  Have the lanterns lighting up our table.  Show the books that they have read.  They are even hoping to know how to write some characters by then.  I'm unclear as to whether they want to show others how to write the characters or just have it on display.  The flurry of ideas was quite rapid fire this morning.  It will be quite the adventure for us as we prepare for the fair!

Fleeting thoughts o'er our house

We have started cracking down on getting the house ready to sell.  I have found that there is something profoundly sad about erasing the personal touches to ensure it's neutral winsomeness.  As I removed the bed from the closet, unscrewed the support frame and started painting over the green black paint that wisp of sorrow touched the edges of my heart.  Part of me screamed inside, if they can't love this house the way we made it out to be then they don't deserve it!  The other part of me was sad at the end of an era.  After all we doubled our family size in this home.  The hours, sweat, blood, and money that we've poured into this place to make it what we like isn't countable.

 We've lived so much in this space in a short four years.  I cannot imagine how much angst the previous owners suffered having been here for 28 years.  It's sad to me that I (most likely) won't have any more guests stay the night before we sell this house.  As the days are flying by to our 'list it' goal I wonder do I pack this item or donate it.  Will we really miss not having it once relocated?  How much stuff does one family need?  How do I convince my family that we don't need everything they think we do?  We are a big lot of sentimental fools over here with a propensity to keep anything with a memory attached.

Letting go is hard.  When I have company over I realize that there won't be many more times where they will sit on this couch in this space.  Will they come to our new place since it will be 16+ miles away?  I am guessing 'pop over' visits are a rarity in the country.

As sad as preparing to move is making me today, the excitement (and bloody terror if I'm honest) of the next adventure keeps me pushing forward.  So for now, I guess I'd best quit my sentimental typing and get back to swinging that paintbrush.  Those walls aren't going to paint themselves.

Pillow Fights

Yesterday at the Doctor's office the kids all had fun weighing themselves while waiting.  After Abi added their combined totals she enthusiastically asked me to get on so she could compare if they weighed more than me.  To which Lizzi responded 'she better not or the scale might break!'  A good laugh later I told Abi that the last time I stepped on the scale I was only 8 pounds more than they.

Driving home I heard chatter from the backseat and Lizzi say 'I don't want to be like Mom'.  This was surprising to me as she's always talking about how she wants to be a mom just like me when she grows up.  I ask her what part about me doesn't she want to be like.  'I just don't want to have your hair since you don't have very much'.  Yeah, I don't want you to have my hair either honey.  The conversation shifted to marriage and at what age did I marry Daddy.  When I responded 20 years old there were flurries of wow you were so old when you got married (ha!  Not what everyone else thought).  When the answer to their inquiry of my current age came out the din was enough to make me want to roll the window down.

Last night Phil thought he would be funny and take my pillow.  I'll let you in about a neurotic part about me.  I'm super anal about my pillows, they all have to be juuuuust so in order for me to fall asleep.  When we first married I didn't even flip it over and he thought it was hilarious to flip it over just to watch me fuss over the darn thing until I had it the way I liked.  I asked him for my pillow assuming that he made the error blindly in the dark.  When that boyish grin lit up his face and proudly declared that it was his pillow for tonight I knew the game was afoot.  A few moments later we were wrestling on the bed, and then off of the bed.  Soon we were laughing and trying not to play dirty as tiredness set in.  I commented on how much fun this was and how much younger it made me feel given the comments of the day and the weariness that so often accompanies motherhood.  We realized that we hadn't done that in years, perhaps not even since moving to Grand Island.

Hopefully the next pillow fight doesn't take as long to come about.  When it happens, I'll be ready to fight 'till the end.  I always win, it's just a matter of how long Phil is willing to put up with my antics until he gives in.  The battle is fierce with lots of peals of laughter, mostly from Phil as he delights in my pathetic attempts to muscle away my fluff.  The victory is even sweeter as I get to lay my head on my pillow snuggled up in my beloved's arms.  The joy, vitality, and closeness it brings to our relationship is the best part of all.

Digging a hole to China

After months of prayer and contemplation, we choose to take Abi out of public school to resume her education at home.  Granted, today is day three of her home based learning but I feel it has been a big blessing to us both so far.  She has been eager to learn and soaks up everything put in front of her.  Today has been a good test for the system as we let them go to church last night.  Abi's been a lot more edgy and testy, but I came into today knowing that might be the case.  I asked the Lord for wisdom this morning in how to handle the situation.  Tears and a full blown melt down were averted by snuggles and hushed tones.  In fact, after that, she was back to her bouncy self and asked to make lunch.  When I thanked her for that act she replied that it was an honor.  If this is our new normal, woohoo!

The curriculum I'm using temporarily (http://allinonehomeschool.com/grades/fourth-grade/) until mine comes in has Ancient Egypt as the history to be studied.  Abi was less than thrilled and vocalized those opinions.  I had her sit down and write out different portions of history that she would prefer to study.  A short list was produced with China being her top interest.  I asked her why she wanted to study China as this interest hasn't been mentioned before.  Abi told me that 'well mom if I'm going to be a missionary in China someday, I figure I should know everything there is about China beforehand'.  That blew me away.  This isn't the first time that she has mentioned wanting to be a missionary when she grows up.  For her to say where she feels led to minister (at the tender age of nine no less) when she knows nothing more than its name is enough to well up some tears in my eyes.

We went to the library and gathered up most of the books pertaining to China.  I'm looking to hopefully find a free program for her to learn Mandarin.  Whether this is truly her calling (who's to say it's not, my dad received his call to ministry at the age of 8) or a childhood interest only time will tell.  In the interim, we're digging a hole to China through the stack of books loaned by the library, and I'm going to nurture her calling to ministry.

Lego Land

The highlight of our Kansas City trip was Lego Land.  I loved how it was family friendly and reached everyone at their level.   There were toddler pits of duplos at every station for Miles which was a huge relief for me.  A few rides which the kids loved just as much as building with blocks.  A build your own race vehicle and track that kept Phil's attention most of the day.  The 4d movie theater was a nice reprieve for me, a few moments of not keeping track of everyone's whereabouts while getting to mentally check out twenty minutes at a time.

The big surprise for the kids was getting to pick out a lego kit courtesy of my parents.  I'm not sure which was the bigger shock that we were letting them pick out a 'souvenir' or that they were getting to pick out a lego kit of their very own.

Now without further adieu....lego land!

Abi building Miles a house

Miles inspecting Abi's creation

it's off to the races for Lizzi and Abi

and he's out of there

Phil's spot for most of the day

helping Wesley race their car

the car survived the race track

Abi trying a new model of racing vehicle

Miles getting in on the racing action

created sans 'helpers'

lego karaoke anyone?

Miles helped by pointing out the words they should be singing

 

Daddy and Miles at the earthquake machine

Lego giraffe--crazy huge!

Daddy and Wesley on the ride

Which kit do I make first?

What's inside?

oooooh

so excited to do his 'puzzle'

he looks just like Phil when deep in thought

Legos is exhausting

My 'legos'.  Thanks mom and dad for fueling my hobby.  A lace vest is in the works!