Spring has arrived!

She wanted bunnies.

So the Builder and the animal lover built the ultimate bunny hutch.

He asked for chicks to take care of.

And everyone enjoys their soft cuteness.

What's more fun than trying to keep a toddler from breaking your Christmas ornaments? How about trying to keep your toddler from smushing the chicks?

Yeah, she's cute.

flying kites

Up, up and away!

You need just the right amount of wind for it to fly. Too much, and the kite is overwhelmed. Too little, and it won't lift off the ground.

Concentration

Pure joy

“True courage is like a kite; a contrary wind raises it higher”

John Petit-Senn quote

Why I love to "Spring forward"

Dan said, "Let's go outside after dinner." So, spaghetti consumed, table cleared, dishes loaded, boots on, they headed outside. And Sarah was just one of the gang.

Twirling on the swings

Throwing the

football

Climbing

Smiling

Eating random things from off the ground

I love having daylight left after dinner!

A place for everything, and everything in it's place

Being a parent is not easy. It's a huge blessing, and I love being a mom. But it's a hard job. And I don't always know how to go about it. At least 100 times a day I get barraged with questions, such as:

"Can I play video games?"

"Can I watch tv, or a movie?"

"Can I have a snack?"

"Can I have a friend over?"

"Can I skip school?"

"Can I go here...or there?"

"Can I buy that movie, that game?"

Often, my first answer is "I don't know" or "maybe" or "later", because I'm trying to buy time so I can think about my real answer. And often what happens is the question is asked enough times that I say yes just to make the question go away. The squeaky wheel gets the oil. Except, I'm often left dissatisfied with the outcome. And mostly because I know it's a double mindedness I'm dealing with. I second guess my instincts and get blown around by the gales that blow when I half-heartedly say "no." The kids know when I don't really mean it.

After some discussion with Ken, I decided to just say no to video games. Not because they are bad. But because I think there will be more peace in our house if I do. And I meant it. And the kids know it. And the gales turned into breezes--no begging, crying or fits. The certainty with which I made my decision left no room for argument. And there was peace today. The kids played with each other and entertained themselves, or their younger siblings. Instruments were played, school work was done, conversations were enjoyed.

And so I am thinking about the lack of structure in my life-and consequently, in my kids lives.

Because sometimes it's questions like

"Where does this go?"

"Where are my socks...underwear...pajamas...shoes?"

"Where is the bathroom cleaner..snow shovel...ice scraper?"

"What are my chores today?"

A place for everything, and everything in it's place.

I'd like to say that at 39 years old, that's my motto. But it's not. I tend to gravitate toward what's easy at the moment. I have a hard time sticking to routines. But I want to try to be a bit more routine, more structured. So that when I get asked, "Can I watch tv?", I can point to the structure, the rule, and say "no" or "yes" with certainty--lest I get blown about by the winds of doubt and uncertainty. So that when we walk in the house everyone knows where to put their shoes so they know where to find their shoes later.

It's a management issue. Things have gotten a bit loosey- goosey around here. I'm ready to start writing down some ideas for routines and structure that will help.

But first, one more question.

"Where can I find a pen?"

:>)

Homeschool snow day!

The snow really is quite beautiful as it falls.

At least 12" of heavy, wet snow. A friend in a tractor kept the shoveling down to a minimum.

So they had time to play king of the mountain.

And cuddle up to watch movies and eat popcorn.

She washed it down with some fresh, cold snow.

The snow has been fun. But I think we've all had our fill. Spring is more than welcome to pop in any day now!

I know the mice would appreciate it. One went from door to door here on our porch looking for someplace warm to spend the night. Can you see the tiny footprints?

A walk through the cemetery

As I watched the kids run off through the cemetery to the hill in back, I cringed a little. The juxtaposition of life over death was startling, and I hoped it wasn't disrespectful. I comforted myself with the thought that most of the people who had been buried there would approve, had they been aware.

Cemeteries are a thoughtful place. I walked a bit to read the names and dates on each headstone, and couldn't help but wonder what the stories were behind the names. Must be my age, with 40 just around the bend, causing my mind to wonder about my own end, the end of those I love. I confess it has caused occasional panic. Not that I'm afraid of death, mind you. It's the dying part that scares me a bit. And the unknown of when. And if, at the end of my life, it will be good enough to say that I loved God, loved my husband, loved my children, loved my neighbor....and then her headstone. Her name was Ann. She died in 1873. She was 16 years, 6 months and 18 days old. They counted her every last day. Like they all mattered. As if to honor every moment that she lived. Which includes the days she swept the floors or cared for younger siblings or milked the cow or washed the laundry or studied her algebra. Epiphany! Every day counts, every day should be counted as an opportunity to be remembered. And so I record and number the gifts- the great Love Dare-and try to be a gift to those around me. Loving God, loving my neighbor. And I think in the end that will be enough, perhaps warranting a "well done". Because honestly, my life is full with laundry and making milk and shepherding children and sweeping floors, and it all can seem a bit pointless. No trips round the world for me these days. No greatness beyond a cup of cold water for the least of these. But if every day matters, is worthy of being counted, then these days matter. And somehow that makes everything seem easier. These days are not to be gotten through so real life can begin. This is the real life! My kids ask me each morning, "What are we doing today?" And most days I laugh and say, "We're doing it!" There it is. I'm doing it. Life. And it matters, and will hopefully be worthy of counting each day when I'm gone.

About 100 years from now.

;0)

Sweet moments

Some moments are sweet like this...

lazy and cuddly and everyone getting along.

Meaningful conversations

and hearts unfolding happen in the unhurried. When I sit long enough in one spot, they gather round and I listen...and talk..and listen....

Connections are made, though there be 16 years between birth-days.

Time. Loving one another. Getting and staying connected. Smiling. Laughing. Focusing on what we like about each other.

Some moments are like this.