Where the wild things are

I am still not sure what we were thinking that morning as we pulled out of the drive with the rain beating down and not a single umbrella among us, but that we did.  We had reservations for some classes at the Banham Zoo in Norfolk so rain or shine we were headed that way.  You would think that it would have occurred to one of us to grab a brolly though. 

The upside of visiting the zoo in the rain is that you have the place virtually to yourselves.  We wandered in peace through nearly deserted grounds. The rain mostly let up early on leaving plenty of puddles to jump in. 

 Abbie Rose announced she needed a restroom rather immediately while Dad was getting the bigs to their class so she and I made a mad dash for one of the few facilities that were open. Since I have no appreciable navigation skills we managed to circle the place twice before we found the rest of our group again. Hence I do have pictures of every.single.animal.  I mercifully culled before uploading. : ) 

The classes were split into age groups so once again I have little people pictures while the bigs were off on their own learning about zoological careers and the particulars of the zoo nurseries.  It was encouraging to me to watch them in their workshop.  I am not sure how much they retained information-wise but I watched them wrestle with and ultimately conquer their own squeamish fears.  The zookeeper brought out progressively "yuckier" species to pass around.  Each time I saw their eyes grow wider as they quietly assessed their options.  Each time they opted to touch and hold the new creature.  Snakes, rats, cockroaches.  In the end they said they were not that scary after all.  

I want to be like them when I grow up. 

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can you dig it?

 A morning at the dig site. The children got a tour first where they showed some of the Roman and Saxon artifacts that have been unearthed locally to include a Saxon warrior buried with his horse.  Then we headed out to the current dig site.  Since the area has been rich in archeological finds the local government requires the archeologist team to come in during excavation and remove anything significant before building begins.  

The area is divided into squares which are shoveled off in thin layers with trowels.  Then they sift into buckets.  Overandoverandoveragain. My hat's off to them because 20 minutes in this job gets a little tedious.  Abbie Rose hit jackpot however.  She  pulled up a tiny piece of Saxon pottery.  (not what she is holding)  

In case this is starting to look like the little people are the stars of the show I should point out the site organizers split up the kids into teams and we had to stay with the littles. This happens alot, so they get the most press.  Moira, Aidan and Kieran were on the other end of the dig site though.  

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Of tears on tulips and just doing it

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There are many pictures piling up here.   Archeology digs, pond dipping, soccer games. One girl is driving.  A future being speculated upon.  And work.  Lots of work. And more play.  And then sleep has to happen and the day is all gone and the pictures languish.  (Actually they aren't languishing long because I am working on albums.  The paper and glue sort.  All old school and low tech.)  

I have talked with moms young and no longer young in stolen minutes in between. As I have listened to exhaustion and exasperation I remember my own. What women want to know is where to find these answers, those strategies.  The right consequences to make kids behave, choose well. Clean stuff. : )  I know this.  I did that.  And it wasted much time, only postponing what really needed to happen to create peace and progress.  That bit was me being all those things I wished they would be – orderly, peaceful, diligent, merciful.  It was about getting UP from my projects, my book, whatever and being present and accounted for.  Right in the thick of things as often as possible.  Doing it all together.  The laundry, the dishes, the ball games too. 

(on a side note: A friend shared a fabulous site called GOYBP – get off your butt parenting.  It sums up what many of us figured out.  You just have to get up and engage. Be the grown up. Follow through.  Fix the breakdown.  Prevent future breakdowns by being there before it goes south, since most kid problems happen when they are left unattended.) 

Lest it sounds like I have arrived in this journey I am humbling admitting that daily I have to remind myself how this dynamic works.  And why it doesn't when it isn't working. It is nearly always the same.  Getting off my bum and engaging.  So that's where I am right now.  Stuff is cleaner this way. : ) 

Two things have happened that brought it into focus.  A younger mom friend was saying how she met two 'workhorse moms' at a camp and how well their families worked.  I remembered workhorse moms in my past.  They spent most of their waking hours well, working, except they never gave the impression it was work.  They were reaping so many blessings by their efforts that it was clearly benefitting them as well as their families. Peace.  Joy. Progress.

We got word last night that one of those moms from our own past died this week.  She was just a few years older than I and tried to tell me these things in a long ago and far away life, when I had just three little boys, really wanted a nap, and lived for mom's nite out. She pressed ahead modeling that diligence, raising nine kids, mentoring women, and moving with her military husband.  They welcomed grandparents into their home.  They sent kids to seminary. And then a rare cancer struck and in her early 50's with elementary school kids still at home she was gone.   I sincerely doubt she had many wasted days to her name.  She left a strong team behind. 

Coincidentally today we read a euology in our book:

"…he simply did his duty in all things, and did it so cheerfully, so faithfully, that it kept him patient and brave, and happy through poverty and loneliness and years of hard work. He was a good son, and gave up his own plans to stay and live with his mother while she needed him. He was a good friend, and taught…much beside Greek and Latin, did it unconsciously, perhaps, by showing an example of an upright man. He was a faithful servant, and made himself so valuable to those who employed him that they will find it hard to fill his place. He was a good husband and father, so tender, wise, and thoughtful, that Laurie and I learned much of him, and only knew how well he loved his family, when we discovered all he had done for them, unsuspected and unassisted."

He never asked help for himself, though often for others, but bore his own burden and worked out his own task bravely and quietly. No one can say a word of complaint against him, so just and generous and kind was he; and now, when he is gone, all find so much to love and praise and honor, that I am proud to have been his friend, and would rather leave my children the legacy he leaves his than the largest fortune ever made. Yes! Simple, generous goodness is the best capital to found the business of this life upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is the only riches we can take out of this world with us."  Little Men

That first line holds the secret – doing it all cheerfully, kindly, and generously kept him patient, brave, and happy.  

The very things we balk at turned out to be the very things that make life better. Make us happier.  So it seems so much easier to just do it.  

fledgling

"Mama, come quick!" 

The children were playing in the garden when they came upon these fledglings, a bit stunned by their rude introduction into the big world.  They were spotted when they had wandered out onto the open grassy area, a bit stunned.  

We talked about mamas, who linger nearby ready to help. We talked about not touching them and playing in the back garden, giving them time and space while they worked it out.  We talked about how hard it is to trust that it will be ok when it doesn't look like it will be ok. 

If you have ever had a fledgling person of your own, you know how much easier that all is in theory.  

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Here's to fledglings everywhere, eager to spread untested wings.  Here's to their mama's – hovering closeby, watching, praying, coaching, hoping. 

Maytime

"Winter is many months of the year
But now at last Maytime is here;
And birds sing from a leafy screen
In the trees and hedgerow freshly green;
And the wood-anemone is out in the shade,
With its blushing petals which too soon fade;
Once more the bracken is unfurling there,
And bluebells gently perfume the damp air."

-  Veronica Ann Twells, Maytime

A very happy May Day to you from our woodland fairies. 

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daily – now

 

"Forever is composed of nows." Emily Dickinson

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right now:

The garden is carpeted in flower petals.

We are moving furniture around making room for a new piece.

The little dog is being weaned off his steroids. (fingers crossed!)

Moira is teaching piano to the younger children.

Soccer (seasonal)  is in full swing. 

Ditto field trips.

I am trying to remember the difference between what calls to me and what I am called to do – and where those things overlap, and where they do not. 

Staying up too late.  See line above. 

Awaiting a smallish dental procedure this week. Sigh.

Planning to play with patchwork. 

Creating order. 

 

 

 

A treasure – free this week

 

It's still one of those unusually vivid memories of mine.  It was 1997 and I can recall exactly what the living room of the townhouse we were staying in looked like.  It was colonial style with dark wood furniture and Wedgewood blue accents.  I wanted to stay forever.  Except it was a hotel and we had just had our fifth baby and a cat and so that wasn't within the realm of possibility. ; ) 

I was standing in that blue room when Maureen and Rachel were emailing about a book project.  A really good book project.  In 1997 there were not entire sections in bookstores devoted to homeschooling.  You were hard pressed to find anything in print that related to Catholic homeschooling at all.  This very good idea was to remedy that by publishing a collection of experiences and advice from real live Catholic homeschool moms.  

Fast forward 17 years.

Although there is one kindergartener left in my living room these days I have found myself discussing preschool anew with my daughters and daughter-in-law and new homeschooling moms.  It is still a subject that is so very near and dear to my heart.  Increasingly I have thought back to that volume of stories from years ago.  It occurred to me that I actually had my thoughts collected in one place and would not change a thing about what I wrote despite having journeyed through those early years with five more babies since then.  Problem was I could not locate my original volume and had lost the chapter notes in a computer crash over the years.  Maureen to the rescue.  

Maureen has graciously uploaded the entire volume to Amazon and it is free through Friday.  Mine is safely in hand once again so I am prepared when someone asks, "What about the little ones?"  There is also a whole lot of ground covered in the rest of the book.  It was written by moms (and a Dad or two!) in living rooms during an era where there were not co-ops in every city and internet connections began with a dial tone.  You did not need a fortune then but you had to be really dedicated and committed to hang in and thrive.  There stories are ready to download right now.  They are still relevant and today they are free. : ) 

A Catholic Homeschool Treasury