Ah, To Be All-Knowing!

Drew has been having trouble getting to sleep lately, probably because, as I've explained to him at least once before, when sleep descends in his room, he's not there to benefit. He pops up every few minutes to tell or ask us something. A couple nights ago, he got up to tell me something in particular.
"I'm going to tell you this," he began, "and I'll bet you don't know it. Did you know," he went in, in his typical dramatic fashion, "that dinosaurs are reptiles?"

"Yes, actually," I replied brightly, trying just not fuss at him in typical mom fashion about going back to bed, "and did you know that 'dinosaur' means 'terrible lizard'?" (Acutally, I thought we had already known all this for some time, so I wasn't sure why he would have thought it was a revelation.)

His dejected figure instantly informed me that I had made a dreadful mistake. "I'll never get her," he muttered as he walked back down the hall, head hanging. I had to call him back and assure him that there will be plenty of things he'll be able to tell me in the future that I won't know, and since then, he's been trying to "get" me. We've had quite a few conversations that have begun "I'll bet you don't know...", and have found me struggling to nuture his self-esteem without lying. "Wow, that's neat! How did you find that out?" He is not fooled, of course. "But do YOU know it already?", followed by more frustration when he forces me to admit the truth.

I remember asking my dad once how grown-ups just knew everything, because it always seemed to me, too, that there wasn't anything my parents didn't know. How funny that it's come full circle now, my son wracking his brain to be able to stump me. When I was a child I think I imagined it would feel different to be on this end, that it would be invigorating and empowering to have all answers would come so easily. I certainly didn't realize that there would still be so many things I wouldn't know, but I guess I can still revel in my wealth of knowledge about things like dinosuars and mummies.

I've posted about Drew three times in a row now, but of course the other kids are still here, by the way! Ryan finally had his adenoids removed last Thursday (after we had rescheduled the surgery twice), and he's very proud of it. Before the surgery he talked about it constantly - "I can't wait until I get my...what are they called? Oh yeah, I can't wait until I get my adenoids out." He also asked if they would be cutting a hole in him, and was dissapointed to find out there would be no holes or brain probing. Post-surgery, he greatly enjoyed the all-you-can-eat popsicle and ice cream diet, and had an amazing recovery overall.

Chase is as...spirited...as ever, and has learned a new phrase or two. When we ask where one of our dogs is, he replies "I don't know. Prob'by just...runned away.", or "Prob'by just...in the kennel." One of my favorites, though is when he sits in front of the TV and asks earnestly, "I watch Star Wars Cwone Wars, too?" He definitely thinks he's one of the big boys.

And there's always Aimee - fiery, long-limbed, beautiful, and growing up Aimee, who has never once in her life had any doubts about already being bestowed with the knowledge of anything there is too know...and whose cute moments I can hardly share anymore because she would be mortified. :-)

And all of them are sleeping, so I should join in that slumber back there. Ryan and Chase have been waking at the very first hint of my stirring in the morning, and whether it's like some kind of radar or magic, it is leaving me very tired at the end of the day. Good night, all!

Something Worth Remembering

How Deep the Father's Love for Us
Stuart Townsend

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
And make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the man upon his cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

The Really Important Questions

I gave Drew his math page yesterday (don't worry - this isn't another obnoxious mother moment!), on which he was asked to write an addition word problem, called a "some, some more story" by Saxon. Drew started on it without hesitation, and he actually wrote most of it himself, only dictating the last few words, which he delivered with the indicated emphasis - "There were 3 clones [presumably of the Star Wars variety]. Then 5 more came out of nowhere." The next part asked him to write a question for the story. Of course, Saxon meant something like "How many clones are there now?" But Drew looked up and said in dramatic tones with innocent seriousness, "How did clones appear out of nowhere?"

I started to say that's not exactly what the math page was looking for, but we sure did write that question down!

First Day - Drew's Moment in the Spotlight

Despite my lack of preparation - and the understanding that we wouldn't be able to jump headlong into a full school schedule, such as it is around here - we did pick up some of our schoolwork this week. I did just a very, very little with Drew on Monday before deciding to try again the next day. Yesterday morning Aimee was still in bed (she's such a good little patient!), and after I allowed Ryan to tuck himself away in my room to play computer games quietly, I I started on some math with Drew, Chase playing with some play-doh at the table with us. We were working with some money, and pretty soon Chase decided to get in on the fun, which meant dropping/throwing coins on the floor, and it was hardly any time before the constant "plink, plink, plink" began to get on my nerves. Then he moved to throwing clumps of play-doh off the table, then sweeping everything off with both arms... Ah, I had almost forgotten how much fun school time is! I tried gently redirecting him while trying to instruct Drew, then finally my patience gave out.

"For heaven's sake, STOP!" I implored, and while I am not by nature a shouter, I admit the volume of my voice was proportionate to my exasperation. Chase was, thankfully, unpreturbed, but Drew looked at me dissaprovingly.

"Mom, you lost your temper!"

Sigh. Thank you, Jiminy Cricket!

Eventually Chase found something else less destructive to do, and Drew and I finished up. I had meant to do some review here and there over our break, but that didn't happen, so I wondered if we might have regressed in some skills, and I was pleased to discover that Drew hadn't lost anything at all. Indeed, his handwriting, which did need some work, had actually improved, and his easy comprehension of math skills still amazed me. We were working on adding two-digit numbers with trading using dimes and pennies. I assumed he would understand the concept fairly easily once we tried it, but was unprepared for his reaction when I wrote the problems on the board.

I wrote 37 + 23 first. "Okay, Drew, let's use dimes and pennies to figure this out. Put the dimes on the left and the pennies on the right. Then we'll see if we can trade any pennies for dimes..."

"I already know the answer to that," Drew said causually. "It's 60."

It was the same with every other problem, and while we did the little exercise anyway, it was clear, once again, that he grasps this kind of thing instantly. It doesn't come so naturally to me, and I think it just amazes me still that someone who came from me can have his own talents and skills. Actually - and do forgive a proud mother, as I know this may be obnoxious - but there isn't much at all in school that Drew doesn't find fairly easy, unless you count the ability to sit still. :-) He reads with ease, has a terrific grasp of language ("Sometimes I have dreams, Mom, but there's always a portal to get out of them - waking up."), has an great memory, and has a mind for math. I think in a formal school setting his lack of focus would be a problem, and we might miss how smart he is. So while sometimes Ifeel like homeschooling drives me to the edge, I really am enormously grateful to be able to participate so closely in Drew's learning path and to watch his incredible little mind at work.

Plans

Note: I began this on Sunday, but only finished it today, on Wednesday, hence the reference at the end to Monday...

We have been stuck in a vortex of sickness for the last two weeks now, hence no touching birthday/Christmas/New Year's posts. (Perhaps that's better, since I was becoming a little maudlin over my 30th birthday, and it's impossible not to go over the top with thoughts about the close of a year and the start of a new one.) Really, nothing has gone as planned the past month. I have always arranged our school schedule so that we can take all of December off (reasoning that we won't get much of anything academic done that month anyway, so it might as well be planned so that I don't have to feel bad about it!), and my plans for this December break were to make the month a deliberate time of refreshment, renewal, and...house-scouring, the last of which sounds dreary, but the cumulative effect was supposed to be an orderly environment ready for a re-established routine of happy learning and pleasant cooperation around the house.

In my head, on December 1, this didn't seem so unrealistic.

We might have had a little of it, though, if we hadn't completely derailed. It all began around the middle of the month when Dave had to go to Cincinnati to work for a week. We had suspected he would have to go, and rather hoped for it, since it was either work there, or hardly work at all, but we thought he was going early in the month. When we heard he was going to be gone the week before Christmas instead, we crammed in some frantic Christmas shopping, and I tried to do what I could to be ready for a week on my own. And I was looking ahead to not just any week, mind you. Because I had thought Dave was going to be gone earlier, I had previously volunteered for a variety of things for the very week he actually had to leave. ("Sure, I'll make a cake for the AWANA Christmas party!" "Why don't we have Girl's Club here, and make it a cookie decorating party!") It turned out there were a couple of days that week that I never sat down (unless it was in the car) until late in the evening. (To make it even a little more interesting, just half and hour before all the Girl's Club members and their mothers arrived for the aforesaid cookie decorating party, there was a lightsaber incident that involved a good deal of blood and a black eye - thankfully a few butterfly closures were all that was needed.) By the weekend (with Dave still gone and not scheduled to arrive back home until two days before Christmas), I was definitely ready to head up to my mom's to celebrate my 30th birthday and to have our family Christmas get-together. Of course, sometimes the big push to get away somewhere is harder than it's worth - I had to pack for five people and get all our animals settled for the weekend (which involved a last minute chase after our beagle, who was enthusiastically chasing some escaped chickens). But I wasn't about to spend my birthday cleaning, cleaning, and cleaning my house some more, so even if just for escaping that, the trip was worth it. :-)
The last day we were there, however, Drew had a fever and malaise that was the beginning of our descent into a haze of sick days. For three days he had no energy and no appetite, which finally prompted me on the fourth day, Christmas Eve, to take to him to the doctor. The doctor suspected he had adenovirus, which, it turns out, feels just like strep throat, only without the possibility of taking antibiotics to feel better. But by Christmas morning Drew seemed to be doing better, and everyone else was well, so we decided to go ahead and drive up to Dave's sister's for the afternoon, reluctantly breaking our vow to stay home on Christmas day. Having done our duty, we returned home that evening exhausted. The next day, I began to feel a little under the weather, but insisted that I would be okay for our scheduled trip to Atlanta, for an extended family reunion, the next day. I didn't feel at all well the next morning, but we piled in the car and drove down anyway, visiting Zoo Atlanta as planned (I'm sure it would have been great if I hadn't felt like death!) When we got to our hotel later that afternoon, I crawled into bed, and Dave wrangled with four restless kids. That night, Ryan spiked a fever, and we considered just going home that morning. But we had pushed through so far, and so we dragged ourselves to my uncle and aunt's house that afternoon, and made an appearance for a few hours, before finally getting back in the car for the four-hour ride home. Ryan was supposed to have had surgery to remove his adenoids the following day, but of course that was out of the question, so Monday (when Chase also became feverish and fussy), and then Tuesday, and then Wednesday were a blur of sick days. I finally began to feel a little better on New Year's, but the little boys were ill all through the weekend. They also developed a cough, which Drew then caught, putting him back in bed on Saturday. All this time, Aimee remained unscathed, until Sunday morning, when sitting in church with me, she took a downward turn rather suddenly. I
brought her home and put her to bed, where she has been since.

So much for my plans for December. Of course I didn't get a thing organized, planned, or cleaned, and was dismayed to realize that Monday was the day we were to start school again, when I had nothing at all ready. I couldn't - and still can't, in fact - even see my dining room table (so called because it was my grandmother's dining room table, not because we actually dine on it!) on which we usually do school. And with the kids still sick or recovering, I can hardly expect much from them (we have done a little with Drew, though - more on our first day later). I should have learned by now not to make such grand plans, but at least I think I've learned to take it all in stride - somewhat! Ah well, life goes on whether I'm ready for it or not.

Life

I have been reminded a couple times lately of the story that is famous in my extended family - the one of my great-grandmother, who was born, as I understand it, prematurely and presumed dead at birth. She was placed in some sort of tea kettle which was slid under the bed while everyone attended to her mother. There, in those quiet, undisturbed moments, future generations were poised on the brink of existence as a tiny baby gradually began to breathe and warm all by herself. Evenually her aunt pulled out the tea kettle to examine her and found, undoubtedly with amazement, that she was alive. That baby lived into her eighties, and her numerous descendents have always considered those first precarious moments of her life with awe, since without them, of course, we would not be.

I posted last year about the young mother I know who went into labor with her apparently healthy, full-term son, only to discover with horror and sadness that he was never even to draw his first breath. The answers given her in the following months were less than conclusive, and so she may never know for certain what happened. Of course she trusts in God's sovereignity, as do I, and I am not questioning Him in the least - only marveling at the mysterious nature of the life he has given us here on earth. How can it be that it can be at once so fragile and yet so strong and resilient? Even farther past the reach of our human understanding is when life that seems to be weak is given inexplicable strength, and life that seems to be full of vigor is blown out in an equally unexplained moment.

One of the times I think about all this iswhen I get together with my good friend Lisa and her brood. I posted about our most recent visit to them, and when she sent me a picture taken at that visit - the traditional one we pose all our kids for - I was struck again by how amazing is this Life that God has given us. I always remember our days as girls, and then as teenagers, full of dreams, hopes, and expectations for our lives, and both completely unitiated in the mysteries of that life:

Years later, these are the souls, the life, God has given us among our two families, each with a place in this mysterious and wonderful tapestry:

A Quick Check- In

I had a post in the works reviewing our Thankgiving week, but time has rendered that one rather irrelevant by now - and anyway, how interesting could the saga of a stomach bug during a holdiay be? Then I kept thinking I would review the following week, this past one but that wasn't anymore interesting, just a whirlwind of park dates, a little schoolwork (as we anticipate taking the rest of December off!), and the usual antics of life with young children. Today, in concluding that week, we took some of our bunnies to a rabbit show (which was rather dissapointing, actually), then went to "choose-and-cut" our Christmas tree from Harmon Tree Farm. Everyone was SO tired, but fortunately, we found our tree almost immediately, quickly visited the animals, and even rode the train (it was impossible to resist Chase's earnest and carefully articulated plea, "I ride train?"). After dinner later, we enjoyed the somewhat frantic event that is our tree decorating tradition, and now, with all that over and the kids visiting the Land of Nod, I find I am too tired to write any of the posts I've been meaning to write!