Sentimental Bennett

Our children have just now started experiencing and/or noticing the joys of country music. Neither Chuck nor I grew up listening to country music (unless you count 'Alabama' for a short stint in 1983 - and that was completely by accident). As kids, you kind of just listen to the music your parents listen to. All that to say, that our kids have just now realized the 'coolness' factor of our music.

Everytime we get in the car, they always ask me to put in a cd. Now that they know the names of many of these country singers, they think they're hot stuff. Today Bennett asked for Tim McGraw. He's my favorite. On the particular cd we were listening to was one of my favorite songs titled, "I Know How to Love You Well." It's a beautiful, romantic, sappy love song. Chuck and I dance to it all the time.

Well...it seems Bennett had different notions in his head when he listened to the song today. He asks me, "Mom, can we repeat that song over and over. I like it." Sure, honey. No problem. Isn't that a sweet song? It makes me think of Daddy every time I hear it. He answers me with, "Well...it makes me think of Elizabeth." Seriously?!

If you will recall, Elizabeth was the wild, crazy, obstinate dog we had for 9 short months before finding her a good home. It has been over 2 years since we've had her. He rarely played with her. This is as much contact that he had with the fuzzy furball. As an infant puppy, she was quiet, cuddly and slept alot (the only way to have a dog if you ask me). As she grew, she became a menace. She dragged (literally, he was being pulled while on the ground) Bennett down the street while he was holding her leash, she attacked Gavin while he was walking to the table with his cereal bowl, she bit me every time I cleaned her paws, she chewed Chloe's doll head until it was a distorted monster baby. It is this very dog that Bennett has such fond memories of. That he sees himself loving so well. What a beautiful ode to the memory of Elizabeth.

A Schedule After My Own Heart

To appreciate this post, you need to know a little about me. I grew up an extremely scheduled person. I loved knowing what and when I could expect for my next meal. I lived by my bed-time. A schedule was a comfort for me, it was my security. I knew what to expect. That's why, it made perfect sense while in college, that I had a "Plan Board". It was divided into two sides, one for my room-mate and one for me. On it we would write out our plan for the day so we knew what to expect (why...I have no idea). There was not much spontaneity going on, obviously. Also, that may explain my lack of consistent room-mates. It appears that not everyone appreciated the "Plan Board" as much as I did.

Eventually, I became an adult (in age only) and my little scheduling tendencies followed me. It came in awesome when I jumped into my career. I was in charge of meeting with clients and arranged my own calendar. As far as jobs go, it didn't get much better than that when you're an efficiency, schedule freak like myself. It was pure bliss, actually.

Then I graduated to parenthood. Another scary foray into the future unless you're armed with a comforting schedule. Poor Gavin. He bore the brunt of my need for organization (read 'control' here). I was flabbergasted that the hospital would actually send us home with this new person without guidance or a nurse. The only piece of advice was, "Just make sure you feed him every 4 hours". Well then...that's all we needed. Chuck designed the best little spreadsheet ever to keep track of every and anything new little baby Gavin would need. We woke him up precisely every 4 hours to feed, whether he was hungry, awake or not. This is what the authorities told us to do and we will not waver. At each feeding there was the spreadsheet to fill out...we marked whether he peed or pooped, what time the feeding was, how much he ate, when we started and stopped. It was horribly anal. We did this for 3 months. Mercifully, our pediatrician told us, "Stop. You don't need to do this anymore." What a relief. Gavin grew up asking, "So, Mom, what's the plan for today?" Enough said. He was a kindred spirit. He knew that a good plan, made for a good day.

Once Bennett entered the picture, any semblance of organization or scheduling was utterly lost. That was the beginning of freedom for me. For the first time in my life, I realized I didn't have to stick with a bed time - for myself. I could eat when I was hungry, not just when it was time. The kids could nap before and/or after lunch. By time Chloe came, I was only a shadow of my former self. I still love efficiency, but can't stand being locked into a schedule. I NEED flexibility. I NEED freedom to change my mind. This blows Gavin's mind.

Now...knowing the rigidity under which Gavin's earliest, developing years were formed, you can have a slightly better understanding of what and why and how he does some of the things he does. The boys have a neighbor that they play with every day of the week. They have really developed a neat relationship. Evidently, they were tired of coming up with what to play on what day. So, they all decided to make a schedule in order to ease the brain drain caused by thinking so hard during the summer.

I walk into the gameroom to see them all sitting at the computer with Powerpoint up. Gavin has made a beautiful chart and each of the boys were contributing to all the blank spaces. They were all equally excited with this genius idea, it seemed. They excitedly asked if they could print three copies so they could all have one to tape to the place of supreme importance in their rooms. Here is what all the commotion was about:

Obviously, it's encoded, but I think I might could crack it for you. 'Kung Fu' refers to role-playing ninjas and having hours of fun doing karate moves on each other. But just in case they get bored of that, instead of taking a break from each other and retiring to their own rooms, they still have 4 more options to choose from - it's just pure genius. Once Kung Fu looses its initial thrill, then they can morph into Jedi's, complete with robe and light saber. This includes full scale battles with extremley life-like and realistic sounds emmanately forth from each jedi. Since there's more time to kill, why not play the game "Scene It" a few times, at least until you've memorized all the answers and it's no longer fun to play. Then I suppose Legos comes in 4th on the list of fun activities. That could get a little quiet and still of a game...but I supposed even boys need some 'quiet time' to their long, grueling days of making boy noises and running. Lastly, and if Mommy is in the mood, 'water' would refer to 'going to the pool'. This is normally a given on any day, as long as its not raining...which, why would it rain? It's Texas, in July.

Thus you can see the pride bursting forth from my bosom as my eldest carries on the beauty of 'the schedule'.

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Point in case:
This particular invention was due to Gavin's need to continue applying 'ice' (i.e.- a frozen bag of peas) to a bump on his head that he just got (I promise, I did not give him the bump...or the peas) yet still be able to have a hand free to eat his snack and read a book simultaneously. As the next picture proves, you can still read comfortably while applying pressure to a bump and eat a granola bar ALL AT THE SAME TIME while pretending everything is normal.


Prior to this invention, he was in tears, upset, because I was sitting there reading and eating a snack and he wanted desperately to join me. But that darn 'ice pack' was hindering his deepest desires. He didn't want to miss out on the fun I was having. I told him he was a smart boy and would figure something out. And, voila...the rest is now history.

Bike Issues

It has become rather apparent that we have some major bike issues in this family. We went on a family bike ride the other night. Instead of looking like a sweet, little family enjoying a nice little ride through their community, we looked a little more like a motley crew / freak show.

First of all, Chuck and I received our bicycles as gifts 10 years ago. Read into that what you like. After multiple moves across the metroplex and the country, our bikes are witnesses to the fact that time and moving trucks are our enemies.

Chuck's bike has one wobbly wheel (the back one). He believes this was due to poor handling by the movers. I take the position that he has done maybe one or two too many 'pop-a-wheelies'. Either way, he can't drive in a straight line to save his life.

My bike has brakes that prefer to stay forever in the locked position. Nothing I do seems to loosen the grip my brakes have on my wheel. So I have to pedal very hard on consistently flat tires just to go.

Gavin had a wipe out a few months ago and ruined his gears somehow. Miraculously, Chuck was able to get the gear thingy back together. But the only problem is that now, out of the 18 gear positions Gavin's bike boasts of, he can only use 1 of them. If he tries to change gears, his bike will possibly implode. Plus, since a professional bike fixer didn't fix his bike, it makes a rather loud noise every time he pedals.

Bennett actually has two bikes, Gavin's old one and his own. Both the same size. Both too small for his 'enormous' body. The one he prefers has pedal issues. Both pedals have broken in half. So, he has two half pedals on either side. You can imagine how this improves his balance while bicycling. He is a constant accident waiting to happen. I don't think he believes in brakes. When he feels he's about to fall, he lifts both legs and arms up and just glides with bike to his final wipe out spot. Chuck even had to give him lessons in 'how to fall off a bike like a boy'.

Chloe received her little princess bike when she turned 3. That was 2 1/2 years ago. Since then, she's grown almost 4 inches...all in her legs. She looks ridiculously big for her baby bike. Plus, her tires are 1/8 of the size of ours, so she has to pedal at the speed of light to keep up with the rest of us.

Just another fun, family, bike ride through the hood during a lovely 98 degree evening in Texas.

Wouldn't You Want To Be Our Friends

Some great friends of ours have been so kind to watch our kids for us over and over again. We really wanted to show them how thankful we were and how much we appreciated them. So...it made perfect sense to invite them over for dinner...Dress Up For Dinner, that is. In all fairness, we let them pick out the theme for this special occasion. "The Rain Forest" was agreed upon by all.

You know you're friends when you can dress up like a fool and all laugh at each other. We have been lucky enough to share this tradition with most of our family and a few of our friends. So far, no one has rescinded our friendship (and thankfully, you can't rescind familial bonds)...we're taking that as a good sign. If you are our friends and have yet to enjoy this special festivity...just wait...I can promise you, your turn IS coming.

Remember the rules: You have to make your costume with anything you have lying around in the house. The kids get no adult help. You may use face paint. No underwear on your head. What luck that I actually had 2 fake bananas laying around the house? It was that fact alone that inspired my lovely design.

Chuck the Piranha

David the Red Eyed Tree Frog

Garrett the Vampire Bat

Gavin the Poison Dart Frog

Grayson the Piranha

Bennett the Jaguar

Chloe the Purple Flower

Me the Banana Tree

The Volcano, Brynn

Too Much Nature?

We were thrilled when we finally found a house that was surrounded by nature. Instead of the minuscule plot of land we used to live on, we now have a large backyard, huge green space of land on one side of our house and a bona-fide creek right behind our house with trees and all. It's the 'and all' part I never actually really thought about.

I love nature. I love walking on sidewalks or trails around wooded areas with gobs of bug spray on...I mean, I'm practically an outdoor enthusiast. I even learned how to camp last year. So, now that you understand that me and the outdoors are getting pretty cozy, you can understand why we were so excited to find this house with all this great outdoorsy stuff around it.

But what I hadn't bargained on, or either chose to remain completely naive about were the snakes. Snakes are a part of nature. And they're all around our property. It's too late to reconsider the house. It is now ours for the next 30 or so years. So...how did I find out that snakes also lived in my beloved suburban nature? I'm glad you asked...here's the story:

It was dusk, maybe around 8:30pm, and Chuck asks if I wanted to go sit on the front steps with him. (See, more proof that I love being outside around nature). I was sitting with my back to the house facing the street and Chuck was sitting in front of me facing the house. We were enjoying the cool part of the day, talking about how our days went and yada, yada, yada...when out of the blue he grabs my arm in a vice grip and calmly says, "Cori, why don't you step over here with me for a moment" and then proceeded to yank me from my current spot.

My first thought was, "Oh my gosh, there's a spider on my shoulder, isn't there?" But outloud I said, "What it is babe, what's behind me?" It all happened so fast...one second I'm sitting less than 2 feet in front of a snake and the next second I'm looking at it from 6 feet away and on the verge of puking. TOO MUCH NATURE FOR ME!!! GET ME IN THE HOUSE!!! But I couldn't run into the solitude of my own house because the snake was slithering right in front of the front door. I asked my rescuer in a panicky voice, "WHAT DO WE DO NOW???" And he replies with the ever so comforting, "I have no clue." So we sit there and watch it slither around our house.

I refuse to step off the sidewalk. There is no way I'll ever be stepping on the grass again without lace up combat boots and long pants. Then Chuck has a genius idea. He leaves me ALONE outside with our new friend and runs inside for the camera and Gavin. I knew he would come up with a plan...but what kind of crazy plan is this???

Gavin comes running out in his boxers anxious to see what all the commotion is about. He and Chuck proceed to throw rocks at the bushes to try and lure snakey-poo out of his hideout so Chuck can get a good picture of him. When the coast is clear, I make a running leap into the entry way, dead-bolting the front door lock behind me. There is no way that snake will enter my house now.

I am SOOOO FREAKED OUT. I can't turn a corner without looking first to make sure snakey-poo isn't curled up in the corner. The heebeejeebees plauge me the rest of the night. I can barely keep the contents of my stomach in place. UGH! I decide to take comfort in the solace of my bathtub (after checking the drain, tub, hamper and closet throughly for any 'new friends' first).

Meanwhile, Chuck is googling snakes and trying to find out what type we have lurking around. He was thrilled with his findings. He informs me that it is a harmless rat snake and that we should be comforted by his presense. He says, "Trust me. We'd much rather have a rat snake than rats." Alrightly then....how can I argue with that.

I still go outside during dusk, but now I go out back and sit on a chair and keep my feet off the ground. I choose to be thankful that we have no rats and spend a lot of time looking at the birds on the bird feeder...that's my kind of nature.

The Advocate

Chloe asked me what she could do to earn money today. Vacuuming out the car is always a good stand-by. So I told her I would be happy to give her $2.50 for vacuuming out Daddy's car. She was thrilled. I asked her what she wanted to do with the money she earned and she simply replied, "Give it away."

Bennett was with us when we were in the negotiation process of this exchange and piped up after about 5 minutes of listening, "Mom. I don't think it's fair that you only pay Chloe $2.50 for doing a very hard job. I think it's worth more than that. Last week when we all vacuumed out the big car it was very hard. And she's going to be doing this all by herself."

"That's a good point you bring up Bennett. What do you think a fair about would be?", I reasoned with him.

"I think you should pay her $5." was his reply.

I asked Chloe, "Did you see what your brother just did for you. He got you more money to a job you agreed to do for a little bit of money."

"Thank you, Bennett." she sweetly said to him. Since she has no concept of monetary value, the amount didn't really matter to her. What mattered was that her brother stood up for her and for that she had stars in her eyes.

Bennett cannot sit by and watch when he feels something is happening unfairly. He must speak up. This has its negative qualities, to be sure (as in, when we're asking something of him that he feels is unfair, quite the 'discussion' ensues). But I feel that the positives out-weigh the negatives in this instance. I'm proud of his character choice. He didn't benefit from this in the least bit - but he spoke up anyways. Way to think of others, Bennett. May you always stand up for the underdog, the down and out, the unloved and un-noticed.

Reading Habits

Even though this was in our old house, it's very representative of the love affair all in this family share of books - both old and new. Not only do we go to the library at least once a week, we also have a habit of raiding the local Half-Price Bookstore and stocking up on the most random stack of books at dirt cheap prices. I guess in a way you could call us "book rescuers". It is our philosophy that every book needs a good home and every home needs a good book (or 10 or 327).

I guess all this started back when I became pregnant with Gavin. A good friend, who was a teacher, gave me one of the best books you could ever give a new parent. It was titled, "The Read Aloud Handbook", by Jim Trelease. From the moment Gavin was born we were reading to him. Little did we know then that reading would be his favorite past time. When he was only weeks old he would study those little black, white and red board books like he was going to have a test on them at the end of the week. I even remember reading Dr. Seuss books to him at 3 months old, specifically "Fox in Socks". I had never read this book before and was laughing hysterically through it as I was reading it and watching Gavin's confused expressions.

The children will always drop whatever it is they're doing if I come in the room and ask if they'd like me to read aloud to them. Even as they age and are all able to read on their own, they always still love it when I chose to read to them. I actually love to sit and listen to someone read and allow my mind to wander and just enjoy the sweetness of the person's voice wash over me as I day dream. So it is with them. It is a time of bonding for us.

Tonight before bed, Bennett asks if he can read to me. An unusual request since the kids mostly want me to read to them before bed. But I absolutely love to hear them read to me and the cute little inflections in their voices. He chose a book typical of his favorite genre. Ever since the time he could walk up and down the library isles, he has chosen the exact same type of book, non-fiction, animal books. The kid has a passion for anything animal. He has read every book on cheetahs available at our library. He craves facts and repeats them every chance he gets. He is very sympathetic towards all animals. He even gets upset with me when I chase the squirrel off the bird-feeder; he thinks I'm being unfair to the squirrel. It's so sweet to see his passion for reading follow this road. And not surprising, he also LOVES "Hank the Cowdog". He knows good humor when he reads/hears it!

Chloe is a hoot. She taught herself to read at 4. Kindergarten readers were beneath her. She felt the need to start out with Berenstain Bears. But what cracks me up is how she actually tries to use different voices and inflections as she's reading. I don't think I understood or applied this concept until adulthood. She's especially good at the 'mommy voice'. She also adores all the Little Men books, Junie B. Jones and American Girl series. She has already read the entire isle of 'princess books' at the library but insists on reading them over and over and over. I guess repetition is how they learn and absorb so much at this age.

Gavin is my sci/fi, fantasy guy. Daddy started reading "The Chronicles of Narnia" to him at age 5 and he's been hooked on that genre ever since. He also LOVES books in a series. However, he also exhibits a little of my OCD by not being able to start a series of books unless he starts with book #1. He refuses to read books out of order. And once he's finished an entire series, he goes back and starts it all over. I've never known anyone to re-read a book again so fast. Personally, it would bore me, but he loves it. He loves all the Star Wars and Bionicle books as well as Hardy Boys mysteries and Box Car Children mysteries. I guess the sci/fi, fantasy type books are what fuel his imagination and help him not feel boxed in to the rules and limitations of this world.

Isn't it amazing how what type of books we favor reflect our personalities so perfectly?

I have learned sooooo, soooo much through reading. I have learned to be more understanding of other cultures, to be more open-minded and not so intolerant. I have learned so much about compassion, love, risk, adventure, death, fear and the human desire to survive and protect. I adore historical fiction. I love feeling like I'm back in whatever time of history that I'm into at the moment. It makes history come alive. I also love Holocaust stories. I know that seems a bit dark and morbid, but I've been fascinated by the stories of those who could live through such atrocities and live to tell about it ever since I was a teenager. I also love biographies - just another silly, female way to connect and relate with people.

Chuck used to hate reading - it was a chore. But he noticed how much I really enjoyed it and wanted to see if he was missing something. So he jumped back into the 'book reading world' and has never left. He became fascinated with books about other cultures and racisim and conflicts. He realized how much bigger the world was than our little, ego-centric view. He also enjoys a good war story and anything about the 1960's. We sometimes read each other's books, but not often. But we always enjoy sharing what we're learning with each other and talking about quotes in our books that meant alot to us. It's a fun way to connect and learn what's going on in someone else's brain.

I'm horrible about remembering good quotes from what I've read. I wish I had a quick wit like that. But, thankfully, there's Google who is there to do what my mind cannot. I wanted to end with a few good quotes on reading and books and these jumped out at me. Please feel free to share your own favorites. You know I'd love to learn more!

"Tell me what you read and I'll tell you who you are" is true enough, but I'd know you better if you told me what you reread. ~François Mauriac

If you resist reading what you disagree with, how will you ever acquire deeper insights into what you believe? The things most worth reading are precisely those that challenge our convictions. ~Author Unknown

The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A house without books is like a room without windows. ~Heinrich Mann

Aspirations

Gavin and I were discussing his future employment options this morning. He insists on being an acrobat. This is the answer he will give anyone who asks the inevitable question, "So, what do you want to be when you grow up?" I'm learning to accept this answer because its better than the garbage man career he was pursuing a few years ago. I mean, really, what kind of activities do you put your kid in as they're growing up to help prepare them for this line (garbage man) of work?

But Gavin also loves to invent things. So, it occurred to me today that I could throw in a new job sequence into the list. I'm sly. "Honey, since you love to invent things, you might really love molecular biology."

"Huh?! What's that?"

I felt I gave him a very precise explanation of this most interesting field while avoiding really going in too deep (since I'm not really exactly sure what it is). I thought I made it sound very appealing.

But it seems Gavin has higher aspirations. You see, his other dream is to live in an RV. He also wants to be "World Traveling Gavin" when he grows up and is just not 100% sure how to earn money doing it. That's where his genius idea for becoming an acrobat came in. He believes he can be a traveling acrobat in his own RV. Perfect. So...the only obvious question from him in response to my molecular biological future pursuits for him was, "Well Mom, how does an RV fit into all that?"

"You know honey, you got me there. I don't see how or why you would need an RV in that profession."

So. We're still going for acrobat. I just pray that if he makes it all the way to Cirque du Soleil in Montreal, that he promises to give me good seats for the show and lets me travel around with him in his RV.

An Accident Waiting To Happen

That's my Bennett boy! If someone can get hurt doing anything...9 times out of 10 it will always be Bennett. That's why we weren't surprised, while on vacation recently, that Bennett called me into the bathroom in tears.

How about I set the scene first. We were in a very nice Hampton Inn. We had just come back from being out all day and were all relaxing in various parts of the room. Bennett just happened to be in the bathroom during this time. When all of the sudden I hear his little piggy squeal and know something happened. I figured he just closed the door on his finger. How else could one get hurt in a bathroom?

Turns out he was getting up from the toilet and bumped his head on the vanity (evidently he was looking down while standing up). This startled him so much that he decided to sit back down to rub his head and have a good cry. That's when he fell into the toilet. And no, he hadn't closed the lid yet or even flushed.

I run in there, not knowing what to expect, but knowing he needed my comforting. As he's standing there crying and explaining what happened, all I could do was laugh - there was no hiding it. As he was talking, he was trying harder to cry than laugh as well. It sounded absurd even to him.

I asked him if his pants got wet. He was still standing there just holding his head looking forlorn. He turned around to show me - it looked as if he just jumped into the pool with his clothes on. I told him I couldn't hug him until his 'potty pants' were off. He finally was able to laugh at the whole event, even though he was madder than heck.

Seriously, who does this happen to? I've NEVER heard of someone bumping their head and then immediately falling INTO the potty.

Then, as if I needed bonus material, the next day he was walking back into the hotel with daddy from the parking area outside the hotel. It had an automatic arm that let cars in and out. Guess who was walking unaware, with his head down, watching his feet and not what was in front of him? Yep...Bennett boy. Conveniently for him, he's the exact height of the automatic arm. He walks dead center into it. Once again, Chuck hears the piggy squeal (Bennett's cries) and turns around to see him holding his head. He can't figure out what could have happened. As Bennett explains, Chuck is desperately trying to show compassion while laughing his head off.

Just the other day we were all reading the warning sign posted on this automatic arm and joking about how anyone could ever not see it coming and get hurt by it. It even warned that it could bonk you in the head and showed a little graphic. We thought it hilarious. And of course, it happened to Bennett.

I think I need to attach a warning sign on Bennett: "Watch Out - I Could Get Hurt At Any Minute For No Reason".

Pit Check

No one ever informed us that we would ever have need of something called a "Pit Check". Why would anyone ever want to smell someone else's pits on purpose??? That is the most important question here. I guess love and personal responsibility for younger people you brought into this world makes you do things you never thought you would.

Take for example, Bennett. He can spend all day in the shower and never even use soap. I truly don't understand. He was hugging me goodnight one evening when a noxious fume came between us. I kept smelling him until I located the origin of the odor. It was his pits - and this was after he had showered. Ughhh! Daddy made him get back in the shower and gave him detailed instructions on what to with the soap and where!

I can't even tell you how many times Bennett has gotten out of the shower, Chuck given him the 'pit check' (which includes smelling feet - because the water at the bottom of the shower doesn't automatically clean them) and marched him back into the bathroom for his second shower. At what age do you just assume they can adequately clean all their bodily parts?

Oh the joys of parenthood that no-one warns you about. But if they did, do you really think you would believe them? You'd probably think...not my child, that would never happen to us, we know how to raise clean kids...and then you become a parent and all thoughts of perfection fly out the window. Especially with boys.

The old saying is true afterall:

What are little boys made of?

Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of !"
What are little girls made of?
"Sugar and spice and all things nice

That's what little girls are made of!"

Changing Times

I was at a park today where I've taken the kids to play since they were all babies. I saw lots of moms there today with little ones at the stage of life we were at a good 5 to 7 years ago. It made me melancholy wondering if I enjoyed it to the fullest as much as I could. I'll never get those years back. Was I too worried about 'the schedule' or making sure I packed everything in the diaper bag or too frantic from the exhaustion that life with toddlers brings? Or did I sit there and smile as I watched them play, giggle and explore their new little world with excitement and energy? I really miss that time of mommy-hood.

In the same vein, I've also been wondering if I'm enjoying my kids enough at their current ages: 10, 7 and 5. As much as I miss their teeny, tiny toddler voices and needs, I also love where they're at now. They are super fun. I love who they are as individuals. I love how they see the world through this age. Everyone is still good, there is no bad in the world - at least nothing that a superhero couldn't fix (yes, the line is still fuzzy with reality vs. fantasy). They are so, so innocent. They are not self-conscious - yet. They do everything with abandon. Playing is by far the most important priority in their little world.

Even though I never dreamed I would ever homeschool my children, I've enjoyed the challenge and excitement the past 5 years have brought us on this journey. I think I've learned more than they have. I never realized how much work it would be; how much I would love it and hate it simultaneously; how rewarding it is; or how much I would stand in awe as I watched them learn and the exciting process that is.

But the challenge, for me, has come with juggling my time with the kids. Many moms are able to work out a routine that fits their family's needs wonderfully. I, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with this non-stop. It's understandable being that 'time' is one of my strongest love languages and I value it greatly. Feeling like I had to choose between the kids and who got my time when, started weighing very heavy on my heart. It started taking away all the advantages that homeschooling seemed to be giving to our family. And most importantly, it started taking away my joy in them.

We always said we'd take it year by year to see what God wanted for the kids and their education. This has been a very humbling road for me. As wonderful as it has been academically for the children, it has also been a huge growth in my heart and way of thinking. I love the challenge. I love the research. I love having the freedom to pick and choose topics my children have an interest in and watch that knowlege expand as we learn through it together and go as far as we want. But, as with all things, there is a season. And the season to walk off the homeschool path and walk onto the public school path has come.

I was very surprised by the timing. I thought God was preparing my heart for a year from now. I was already excited about a charter school I had looked into for the children. But he knew they and I needed the separation even sooner - even though I wasn't able to admit it. And I have to say, I'm soooooo excited about the prospect of just being mom again. The line between 'teacher' and 'mom' became so blurred. I know moms are always teaching their children in life lessons, but also teaching academic lessons can at times be challenging. Don't get me wrong, the rewards of homeschooling have been numerous and I would do it the same way all over again. I thought I'd homeschool forever, actually.

We're walking into this new path with excitement, optimisim and a little trepedition of what lies ahead. But we trust God in all this. He's been in control from the beginning. But most of all, I feel I can finally get back to just enjoying my kids again...not feeling like I have to divide my time up equally between them all and still find time to get lessons prepared, dinner cooked, house cleaned and everything else.

Chloe and I are planning on having a wonderful year of playing dress-up and makeup everyday and doing whatever it is girly-girls do. She's probably born the brunt of the lack of my time in this whole venture. Granted, she didn't know what she was missing (time with me), but I did and my heart was very heavy because of it.

This is just one of the many changes life brings. I'm glad for change...other wise life would be boring and predictable and we'd never grow.