Little Botanists

 



We are well into our study of plants this year (using Apologia's Young Explorers series--botany). I must say that we have learned some amazing things. For instance, you know how when you fail to mow the grass and the lawn starts to resemble a wheat field? Well, those are little wheat thingies are actually flowers. Who knew?

 

I won't spoil the rest of the book but let me just say that it's a fantastic study on plants. Initially I was sorta like "Eh." but it's proving to be just fascinating. There are so many outdoor activities that go along with this lesson and I know I will never look at all the greenery in my yard the same.

 

We picked up a little Venus Flytrap today at the store. Of course we spent waaaay too much time this afternoon trying to feed the plant tiny insects we collected from the yard. So far, no luck on getting the flytrap to close but I'm thinking the little plant might need some time to get used to us.

 

The M&Q Spirit

We did all end up getting sick. Even Jason joined us and then he went one step further and developed pink eye. Yesterday was the first day in over a week that there was no fever in this place and I am thankful for a healthy household again. I'm hoping the demon red eyeball germs do not spread or else we'll be looking at being on lockdown again.

This week we escaped to the carwash--thrilling really, after being in the house for days--and since it was evening and Jason was with us I ran into the bookstore. I came home with a few jewels and one is "Homeschooling with a Meek and Quiet Spirit" by Teri Maxwell. I am a fan of the Mawell's "Managers of Their Homes" and have wanted to get my hands on a copy of "Meek/Quiet Spirit" for awhile now.

I thought I was pretty successful at having a gentle spirit with my kids. Not perfect but a far cry from the impatient, snappy, often overwhelmed, prone to yelling mom I was even 6 years ago. However, after reading this example that Terri provided from her days as a mom to 3 school aged children and 3 children who were aged baby to preschooler, I was convicted not about my actions or words but my spirit:

"I walked into the bathroom, in the middle of a busy school morning, to discover the toilet paper had been unrolled all over the floor. Do you know what I did? I sat down on the floor and cried! In frustration, I raised my heart to the Lord, "Lord, there are just too many of them and too few of me!" Of course, unrolled toilet paper was not the only thing that had happened in our home that morning, but it was the straw that broke the camel's back...

I wish this had been my reaction instead: 'Lord, those little guys are at it again. Thank you for giving them to me to love, teach, and train. Please, Lord, give me the energy I need to deal sweetly with them. Also, grant me the courage and wisdom to discipline them. I love them so much, Lord!' It would have characterized a meek and quiet spirit despite discouraging circumstances."

That right there really convicted me. Now, I am not one to sit down and cry but I have definitely seen some little (or big...) mess on a day that has not been going smoothly. Frequently in this situation, I am slammed with feelings of "I can not do this anymore." I usually don't say anything nasty to anyone but my happy feelings tend to shrivel up and die at this point.

I don't want to live that way. I don't want to be satisfied with simply not screaming at people when I feel like it or gritting my teeth so hard that I've develop a tension headache b/c my kid is going thru a "testing phase". Sure, I'm human and I'm not going to be pleased when I find a 50 pound bag of dog food dumped on the floor (true story) or discover my toddler no longer has curls thanks to her scissor-wielding 5 yr old sister (another true story). But I don't want to be sitting there conjuring up an ulcer.

What I want is this:

 "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:4-7

What I want is true joy and peace. I'm going to steal this definition of "joy" from our "Who Is God?" textbook b/c it is so simple and yet profound:

Joy: A delight that comes not from our circumstances, but from living in fellowship with God as His child.

I am grateful that true joy does not come from our circumstances.

I highly recommend this book. Of course, no book is going to "fix" a problem. Only God can do that. But I do believe that this book is a good one to encourage those of us who are desiring a "meek and quiet" spirit and who are looking to the Lord to complete the good work He started in us. I know already He has used it to bring up areas of my life that I need to further submit to Him.

Baby Fever

 

It's hard to say who suffers more when Baby is sick: Baby or Momma. I think I could have fifty babies and I'd still be a somewhat fretful mess when I notice Baby is running a fever.

This morning our baby woke up with a fever. I said to my husband, "The Baby. Is. Running. A. Fever." Jason, being equally excitable about these things, says "Oh noooooooo. Oh pooooooooor Baby." All plans for the day were immediately canceled.

Yes, yes, I know fevers are nothing to be afraid of (right?). I know they help to flush out the bad germs (yes! Fevers are good!).

But there's something that tugs (yanks) on my heart when I see shiny, feverish eyes that are looking at me seeming to beg "Help me, Momma!"

 

I lose all reasoning capabilities. Yes, Baby, I will carry you until my arms feel like they are going to drop off from fatigue. Yes, Baby, I will nurse you constantly so that by the time you are well I have bulked up my milk supply enough to feed a litter of children. Yes, Baby, you can sleep with your snotty face inches away from mine. When you cough into my face it reassures me you are alive.

But please Baby, remember all of this in a few days when your parents are stumbling around half dead from the virus you gave them.

Dogs of our Lives

It's been over two years since we had to send our beloved lab, Summer, to doggie heaven.  It darn near broke my heart to lose that dog. She was about four years old when I got her from the shelter and we had her for ten years. She was my first big dog.

My life was (and still is) very full and I think I hardened my heart to really loving another dog again. Every once in awhile Jason would bring up getting another big dog and I'd quickly remind him of all the inconveniences a dog would bring to our househould. And I would remind him that we do in deed have a dog. Allie, our aging dachshund, has always been a very interesting creature. She's sort of like a "cat-dog" and by that I mean she's deficient in the loyalty quality that makes a dog a really good dog. She's also aloof and independant. Actually quite perfect for our family. We can say we have a dog and frequently the only sign we have one is the food disappearing from the dog bowl and the tiny dog poos littering the corner of the yard.

So fast forward a little over a week ago and I was at a friend's baby shower. Two friends were sharing the joys and trials of raising puppies. Mostly what stuck with me where the miseries of puppyhood and I was relieved I didn't have the task of teaching manners to yet another creature. Phew. Allie wouldn't be living forever (most likely...you never know...she's a strange dog) and after her exit from the world we probably wouldn't even get another canine. Why risk it?

A few days after the baby shower one of the friends who was discussing puppyhood gave me call and presented me with an offer I would have immediately refused had it been even two months ago. They needed to find a home for their 8 month old golden retriever puppy, Oggie. My common sense screamed "Hells no!" but my affection for my friend caused me to say, "Let me talk to Jason about it and I'll get back to you." I figured that together Jason and I could talk each other out of even thinking of adding this dog to the family.

We failed to argue the "con" side of just trying out the dog and two days later my friend brought Oggie over to our house. "Don't get attached!" my hard heart screamed. Well, either my heart wasn't made of stone as much as I had thought or Oggie is just really wonderful b/c it didn't take 24 hours for that orange boy to work his way into my heart.

Oggie is everything you want in a dog. If it's possible for a dog to be self deprecating, he is. His mood flows with mood of the family. If the kids are running around and hyper he is all game and ready to play; when it's time to for us to work on our school work or if Jason and I want to crash in front of the t.v. Oggie will collapse on the floor nearby and take a snooze. He wants to be inside and involved in whatever is going on but he's content to just sit there and be with you. He is not annoying and demanding of affection. He does not jump. He does not whine. He does not bark unless he has a real reason to. He does not steal food. He does not dart out of the door. Honestly, he is just about the perfect dog. And when he messes up (a chewed item here and there, too much enthusiastic licking of the baby, covert couch napping), you just can not be mad at him.

I've decided Oggie is just that wonderful. My heart was indeed quite hard towards getting another dog. Sometimes part of me thinks "Don't get attached...you've got 12-14 years max with him and then what? Another heart break." But one look into those chocolate brown eyes followed by him stealing a quick lick of my face and I know there isn't a chance of a hard heart returning.

While the cat's away (or deceased)...

Lizards and birds come out to play!