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Exploring Countries and Cultures MFW

MFW ECC: Getting Ready!

MFW ECC: Intro Week 1

MFW ECC: Intro Week 2

MFW ECC: United States Part 1

MFW ECC: United States Part 2

MFW ECC: Mexico

MFW ECC: Canada

MFW ECC Brazil

MFW ECC: Norway 

MFW ECC: France

MFW ECC: Germany

MFW ECC: Kenya

MFW ECC: Middle East

MFW ECC: India

MFW ECC: China

MFW ECC: Japan

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@Farmhouse_Schoolhouse

Today we left speech therapy feeling pretty down. We decided to stop off for haircuts and groceries before heading home. The older boys were bouncy and energetic. I was reading labels and feeling the weight of a hundred things on my shoulders. A voice broke through, “I always feel so sorry for mothers today,” it said. I looked up and blinked stupidly at the woman beside me. “Pardon?” I asked, wondering what terrible holiday or anniversary fell on October 9th. A school shooting? A bombing? She laughed and jerked her chin towards the boys who were trying to arm wrestle in the middle of the aisle. “No school today. I feel so bad for all these mothers stuck with their kids all day in the middle of the week.” She gave me a sympathetic smile as if to say, “I see you zombie mom of 4.” My youngest had been standing close to me all this time. His sensory sensitivities were on overdrive between the haircut trimmings left on his skin, the exhaustion from working hard at therapy and the painfully bright lighting in that aisle of the store. He looked up at me and smiled. SMILED. I turned the smile back at the stranger. “I didn’t realize school was out today. We homeschool and I love getting to be with my kids every day. Not all moms get to do that and I don’t take it for granted.” Then I leaned down and looked him in the eyes and said it again, “I love being with you.” She found us half an aisle later and commented again, “I loved being with mine too. It’s just all the unpleasantness that grated on me. Kids. You know how it is.” She waved goodbye. I turned to the boys and said it again, “I love being with you, even if you act in unpleasant ways sometimes.” My third born didn’t miss a beat, “mom, we love you, even if you act in unpleasant ways sometimes.” I laughed so hard. I WAS the unpleasant one today (and yesterday). We came home, read aloud and played with the kitten. I snuck in a call to a friend about how hard some days are and that rascally third born overheard our conversation. “Mom, habit training is tough, isn’t it? I’m praying for you. We’ll get there together.” ❤️ no, I am not stuck, I am resting in grace, especially on the hard days. ✨✨
It’s been well over a year now that we’ve been going through our daily practice of closing board. We gather together and everyone shares a bit about what they gleaned that day, what ideas they heard, what beauty they encountered. We listen, we talk, we write it up on our white board—ending our days with the same intention that we start our days with. It was realllly hard to keep up this habit. Mostly because at the end of the day, I. Am. Done. 😂 But this practice has yielded so much goodness. Enriching relationships, creating opportunities for more conversation and giving me a window into what they are really thinking through and processing. We recently began “The Lawgivers” which is David Hick’s translation of Plutarch’s Lives (Lycurgus and Numa Pompilius) and the boys are really connecting with the language, layout, helpful notes and breaking points in the reading. It is incredibly reader friendly. (You can catch my eldest sharing a bit about Lycurgus in my stories today!) I am enjoying that dash of Plutarch in the afternoon closing board and soaking up our study time in the mornings. I am really loving the story of Lycurgus. ❤️Today we are giving away TWO copies of this new book from @circeinstitute. To enter 1) Follow @circeinstitute 2)tag two friends in the comments below. Giveaway closed! Congratulations @reformedfarmerswife and @herbanhomestead 🎉🎉🎉
We are home from the @wildandfree.co conference and our family road trip🚐 Natural springs, a yurt, stick insects, a canyon, a red shouldered hawk devouring a snake, an orchard, a hellbender, crayfish, hot chocolate, birthday candles, donuts, the list of memories made goes on and on. The bags are yet to be unpacked and I have several dozen emails yet to be read, but that doesn’t matter right now. There is a window for processing and conversing about everything we saw while the dew of wonder is still fresh and it must be seized, preferably over tea and a handcraft. 🙌🏼 #pajamasallday ☕️ 🧶 Sunday morning we went to Biscuit Love for breakfast, to enjoy conversation and remember our dear @jennifernaraki. Jeff and the boys came at the tail end and sat around the table and jumped into conversations. My boys fell hard for @talltimbersacademy @leahvboden @kristinrogers @jendydees @maandpamodern @jenniferpepito. The walk out to the car turned into a mini nature walk before we said our goodbyes. Later that day one of the boys shared, “You know, I can tell by mom’s friends that when all the wild and free kids grow up, I bet we’ll all find each other. I’ll see someone who stopped to really look at a caterpillar on the sidewalk and we’ll start talking and then we’ll recognize eachother’s childhood.” 🐛🦋🐞🌿🦎🕸While standing backstage Friday night, I closed my eyes and thought of my boys and my mind drew up the image of an hourglass. I still remember a card I received at my first baby shower that featured an hourglass with the sand running out and some cheerful admonishment to enjoy motherhood before it was gone. One of the reasons why I love @wildandfree.co is that it never tries to scare me into focusing all my energy on the top of the hourglass. The women and families that make up @wildandfree.co remind me of what is being built up in small increments each passing day. Grains made of stories and laughter and tea times and rounding up chickens and working through hard things and salamanders and poems. These women remind me that childhood is just one phase of the relationship with my boys. I am so grateful for that reminder. I’m so thankful I get to witness it.
Something happened in the doctor's waiting room a few weeks ago and I've been turning it over in my mind ever since. My son was sitting in a chair reading a book, when a stranger came and sat down beside him... Stranger: "Do you like reading? My son: "Oh, yes. I love to read." Stranger: "I should get parenting advice from your mom so my kid will love reading." My son: "Oh, no. My mom hates parenting advice. She loves reading though." Stranger: "I was hoping for some good advice." My son: "Just love reading for yourself." Stranger: (laughing) "Ok, where do I start? What book? You like Diary of a Wimpy Kid?" My son: "Um, no, I don't think you should read someone's diary like that. I think you should read 'The Wind and the Willows.'” He rambles out a general premise for a solid thirty seconds and continues: My son: “...then if you visit with the story enough you'll see parts of yourself and maybe you'll know what to do next. Ratty and Mole and nature are great like that." 🌿🍄🌻 The stranger laughed and said, "You are so cute," which immediately killed my son's desire for further conversation. He returned to his book. A day later he brought it up and asked, "Was that supposed to be funny? I don't know why any of it was funny." I asked him, "What did Wind in the Willows tell you?" Turns out, somewhere along the way, my boy became a close reader of books. Not because of book reports, not because of special programs or curriculums, but because he found a story that he really loved. He found a story he loved and he read it often. In the grand scheme of things, he hasn’t read that many books by himself. He’s only read a few. But he’s really lived with those stories and it’s made all the difference.
Many hours of training and tending and shaping and instruction and follow up and repeating and reminders and reinforcement went into this one moment. It doesn’t (and didn’t) happen overnight. There is no suitable replacement for faithfulness or diligence. It takes a lot of work and that work isn’t always, shall we say, visually appealing? This is not simply a picture of three brothers reading, washing and cooking together. It’s a past, present and future all at once. You see, I look at this and remember the broken glasses and the dishes stored away while still a bit dirty. I remember the minor floods beneath the sink. I remember the overly salted food, the shrill voice of the smoke detector echoing down the hall, waking younger siblings from their naps. I remember my grumpy moments and theirs, I remember nagging instead of reminding and how hard it was to work through that. I remember the congealed egg yolk on the tile floor and the failed chore chart. I remember the letter tiles scattered around the dining room, the hours spent listening as words were sounded out oh so S-L-O-W-L-Y. Even today, after I took this photo, I looked over one boy’s shoulder and helped him sound out a long word. The youngest looked up and asked “does it look clean, Mama?” I responded, “Almost there!” Then the boy at the stove smiled and said, “I think I seasoned it right!” Many more hours are before us yet. Further faithfulness and diligence are required. The work of many yesterdays, the encouragement of today, and the work yet to be done tomorrow. This picture reminds me to stick with it! There ain’t nothing instant about this instagram.
We are home. We are tired. We are thankful. We are soaking in the goodness of tea cups and biscuits, familiar stories and glorious unfiltered sunsets. We are grieving for the Bahamians and all that they are enduring. Taking the next few days at a slower pace to help the boys recover from the stress of evacuating and the anxiety of wondering whether or not the storm would ever reach our shores. If I need a day (or two) they most definitely need a day too. Thankful once more for the flexibility and gentleness of homeschooling which makes more room for our strengths and frailties. ❤️

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