Category: Archives

This morning, with proud strides, Micah walked into the kitchen and announced that he had taught himself to ride his bicycle.

“Wanna see?” he asked, his cheek-dimple showing from his wide grin.

He didn’t have to ask me twice.

—

Update: The night after this was filmed, Micah set his bike next to the garage, instead of putting the bike inside of the garage. It was stolen. He’s heartbroken. With a new understanding of the importance of caring for bikes, and his promise to do so, we’re looking for a “new” bike for him. If you live nearby and see a decent one for for $20 or less, will you let me know?

Evel Knieval had a mother, too. There are days I wonder how she coped when her son was doing daring things that surely had her scrambling to help him or clean up after him at some point in his youth.

Today, my Evel Knieval decided to put a large wad of paper on top of a lit candle and walk away from it. The candle was on the sill of a window, and the flames were as high as the bottom of the open wooden window. Another child saw it and screamed for help.

Last week, Evel decided to walk home after being dropped off at a babysitter’s and break into our locked house to get his new rocks from the Natural History Museum to show to his friends. Tom called my cell phone to say he’d received a call at work saying that the motion sensors in our house had been set off and that the police were on their way. I was almost to my destination, but turned around. I came home to find my child sitting on our front porch, crying, and a police officer walking up our steps and asking him if he was okay.

My child is brilliant when it comes to taking things apart, even if the deconstruction only occurs in his mind. When we were on the Shinkansen on the way to Hokkaido, he located the emergency door-control panels, fire extinguisher, English guide to the route, and bathrooms — all within the first ten minutes of boarding.

He also quickly wanders off on his little quests of discovery. My first good scare occurred when he first start crawling. We were at a wedding and he swiftly crawled away from the kids’ play area. My son had found a hidden door and crawled up the stairs leading to the balcony where the sound and lighting systems were housed. The reception dances screeched to a halt as a woman started yelling that there was a baby about to fall through the bars of the balcony. A whole story above us, my son was teetering between bars wider than his chubby little body, laughing. It took several moments for us to find the door to even get to him to rescue him. Another time, when he was all of four, he got lost in Tokyo and walked over a mile to find us on the other side of a very large park. I’m thankful that he seems to have an innate compass, and that while he wanders away, lost in thought, he at least can find his way home… although we did have a pretty close call with him when he disappeared and ran off to see where the train tracks went. His guardian angels certainly have to work for their paychecks!

But, he also has a very tender heart… if you can get to it. When he finally humbles himself and fesses up, he becomes a big puddle of tears and blames himself harshly.

Today I had to explain to him that he has a pattern of doing things without thinking them through. The answer cannot simply be, “I don’t know why I did that!” In the case of the candle fire, and in breaking into our house, and a few other named problems he’d caused (for instance, a hole in the plaster wall hours before our house was to be shown by a Realtor) that these things warrant being confronted. I’m not trying to personally attack him — it would be wrong for me to turn a blind eye to them. It’s for his own growth that I must talk to him about these things!

In response to his sobbing and his saying things like, “You think I’m stupid! You don’t love me! You hate everything that I do!”, I told him that I appreciated his mind, and that I am proud of him for wanting to understanding how things work. His skills are such a help to me for mechanically related projects — like taking apart our vacuum to thoroughly clean it out. I pointed out that, out of all of my children, he is the one for whom I have bought nice tools (not just plastic hammers, but the real thing — and nails to go with it!) and building toys designed for children way older than his age group. My goal is to encourage him in his endeavors… but with some boundaries.

I told him, “It’s not enough to simply ask, “I wonder what would happen if….?” He must also stop and ask these two things:

1. Could my actions endanger myself or someone else? (Yes = Need to ask permission!)
2. Do I have permission from the owner to tinker with this object? (No = Need to ask permission!)

And… if he is not sure of those two answers to please ask his parents.

For those who are tinkerers or have children who are — any advice or encouragement for me? :D

So… what are you doing this summer?

June 6 was the last day of homeschool for us. We loved our evaluator at Upattinas School! Home Education Director Kim Coffin thoroughly went through our portfolios and took an interest in each child. She asked about their hobbies, favorite reads, and their observations on Japanese culture amongst other things. The Upattinas campus is beautifully landscaped with gorgeous flowers as well as wild honeysuckle and berries. It has an atmosphere of peacefulness. Kim invited the children to sample the edibles and assured me that no pesticides were used on their property. If you looking for a homeschool evaluator who combines academic excellence with common sense, and who has a genuine heart for children and families, please do give Upattinas a call!

This coming school year, we’re switching to K12, with Pennsylvania Virtual Charter School as our local anchor school. My hope is that the prepackaged, goal-oriented program, and activities organized by someone else besides me , will streamline our schooling and make for more cheerful school days. We will still continue our family devotions (we are currently going through the Shorter Catechism and its proof-texts as a guide) as a Biblical education is important to us. Although the curriculum itself is secular, our children will still be at home and we will certainly have the opportunity to discuss materials together as a family as they are being taught.

The big news for this summer is that Tom will not be going to Afghanistan. Although he had his weapons training, a bazillion immunizations, and dog tags made, a botched filling from Japan kept him from being deployed. It’s absolutely bizarre and strange to have to regroup after having gone through such extreme mental and physical preparation, but the door was clearly slammed shut. The kids and I had planned to go to Indiana for three months while Tom was away, so we are regrouping as well. However, I can’t be happier. Tom was laughing today in the living room, and his laugh, as always, is the kind that makes everyone come running in to see what is so funny. I’m thankful he’s home.

Our house is still for sale, after nearly ten months. While it passed inspection and is approved for rental by the City of Coatesville, renting it out would not provide the down payment needed for the purchase of a new home. God is gracious, though. Last week, Tom’s boss gave the “okay” to work remotely from Pennsylvania. He will not have to be in D.C. as frequently. Hopefully, without having to pay out-of-pocket for gasoline and hotel expenses, we’ll be able to replenish some of our savings as well as pay off the necessary repair of our front porch.

Recently, we started cracking down on kids’ chores in our home. Lack of self-discipline is one of my biggest sin areas, and post-chore inspection as well as keeping the kids on schedule for chores is pretty grueling for me… so much, that I have a goal-defeating habit of doing all the chores myself, when I should be holding kids accountable for their work. After about two weeks, though, it’s paying off. The work ethic in our home is improving, and I’ve also noticed that the kids are taking care to make less mess, as they know that it will increase the amount of time it will take for them to be done. Tom pointed out that clearly defined chores help the kids to know when they will be done, vs. a never-ending ambiguous sorta-list that changes every day. This morning, my friend Perry reposted Jay Adam’s confessional pray on discipline, and it choked me up a bit. (I never did make it all the way through Elisabeth Elliot’s book Discipline: The Glad Surrender (because it was too painful to read!) but I’m thinking I should probably pick it up again.)

After a recent ear infection, we discovered that Aiden is allergic to penicillin. He was a trooper as he endured a terrible head-to-toe skin rash that lasted for nearly two weeks.

I, too, had a fun little medical scare. After a physical where I mentioned irregularities in my cycle, a complex ovarian cyst, which had solid mass and fluid build-up, showed up in an ultrasound. I’ve never received a call so quickly with results as I did from that ultrasound, along with the insistence on getting an MRI to determine if the cyst was malignant. What an ordeal, and relief to hear the results. Not only was it benign… the cyst was just plain gone. I’ve had my share of issues with my crazy body, and that doesn’t even include my pregnancies! I’m thankful that I’m okay.

Speaking of pregnancy, I’m excited to be teaching Bradley Method natural childbirth classes again this fall. This week, I updated my affiliate website. I love and teach the Bradley Method because it prepares the body for an optimal birth. For four out of five of my pregnancies and births I used the Bradley Method. After seeing excellent results first hand, I’m quite passionate about helping others to have good birth experiences. If you know of a natural-birth minded expectant couple, please do send students my way!

I’ve also been asked to do some tutoring in writing for students who could use a little nudging. The age group will be tweens. Again — feel free to send students my way! I love to help people learn to express themselves through writing.

In other news, I now have a gym membership and have been going several times a week. I’m getting faster (15 minute mile down to nine minutes!) and stronger and it feels really good.

Last weekend, we went to Penn Lake and had some quality R&R with our extended family. One of the highlights was floating on the lake, tethered to an large booze-filled cooler, with 20 other women. Oh the conversations! What fun!

Finally… if you love apples, you need to make a Whiskey Apple Crumble (preparation process photo shown above) with the recipe from Bubby’s Homemade Pies. It’s the kind of dessert that inspires a backyard party with friends.

Well… the motorcycle is done being inspected. Time to go pick it up.

I’m still here.

You are loved.

As I quietly observe a dear friend as she gets ready to move to a retirement community next week, there is one thing I have noticed that is happening that seems to silently pain her.

It is jarring enough that I feel that someone needs to put this cautionary thought out there for others to consider:

Do NOT clean out the “junk” in the house while the elderly person still lives there.

It can wait.

It has sat there for years, and it’s not going anywhere.

There is no rush.

Really.

Many elderly men and women have lived through a time when saving non-perishable food and little bits of scrap used to fix things was critical for their survival. Respect this.

When younger generations throw away “junk”, they are essentially throwing out their elderly relative’s security blanket.

What conversations can even be generated from an in-your-face mass purge?

Not very productive ones.

“Why do you have all this STUFF?”

“Look at all this expired food!”

“These parts are too old to be used to fix anything. They belong in the trash!”

Take it to heart that a person’s possessions are part of them. They are the items that their owner has hand selected and stored for whatever reason. Thoughts and feelings went into their acquisition. There is an emotional attachment. Cleaning out a person’s house of these items is a privilege — not an episode of Hoarders.

As the elderly person stands in their yard, helplessly watching as boxes of items they can no longer lift are being thrown to the curb, it has the potential to send a very terrible message to them. They may already be burying feelings of worthlessness, and it’s very easy for them to project that their relatives feel the same way about them.

You’re expired.

You are too old to be useful.

You belong in the trash.

Furthermore, elderly people hate to feel like a burden. While younger generations are used to networking to get jobs done, elderly men and women — especially the strong ones who live alone and who are very reluctantly being moved — feel very frustrated when others have to labor at their expense. “It’s my fault my family has to be working so hard to clean up my mess on this hot day!”

Instead…

Help them say goodbye to their house, as if they are saying goodbye to an old friend — because they are are.

Ignore the dusty canned goods and boxes of rusted nuts and bolts and instead focus good memories that have occurred in their house.

Praise them for all of the years they have cared for the house. Help them to select important items to bring along to their new home, and offer to take items — no matter how silly they may seem to you — to people whom they want to “bless”.

Leave with them with the lasting impression and hope-giving thought of, “I have done well in my former home, and I will do well in my new home. I am valuable. I am loved.”

Later, when they are settled, go ahead and rent that dumpster. Throw things away with a clear conscience. When they ask about their house when you visit them at their new place, just lovingly smile and say what they would humbly say to you, “Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.”

As the holly groweth green
And never changeth hue,
So I am, ever hath been,
Unto my lady true.
– Henry VIII

I have a love-hate relationship with holly trees.

On our property, there are three of them: two males and one female.

I love them because they are tall and beautiful – a green friend in the winter – and smell like honeysuckle when they bloom in late May.

I hate them because they drop their prickly leaves in spring — just about the time when I have a hankering for kicking off my shoes and going barefoot in my yard.

This photo was taken this morning. Holly blossoms are about as big as a pencil eraser. Observe that the stamens and anthers are nearly as big as the blossoms themselves!

(I plan on picking some as soon as I get the chance, and pressing them in my flower book.)

Did you know that holly wood is traditionally preferred for making bagpipes? Until today, I didn’t either. Thanks, Wikipedia.

For as long as I can remember, my dad, who owns a furniture restoration shop, has been imagining things and building them. Everything from a treehouse with dragon along the ridge pole to one-of-a-kind furniture designed by elite customers to intricate woodcarvings that take months to make.

He has always been drawn to a steampunk style, long before it had a name.

As a side project from his furniture restoration and design, he recently began making airships out of salvaged parts for himself and a few lucky people.

Maybe you’ll be one of them?