In 2013 we had a theme for the year, something we had never done before. Since 2012 had been a very stressful year we had concluded that our goal for 2013 was to be the "Year of Rejuvenation". Throughout the year, we continually reminded ourselves of this and sought to rejuvenate our minds and bodies.
We found this to be such an amazing way to focus our family and spur us on to positive thinking. As we look ahead to what 2014 may hold, the word that continually came to mind was "busy". Trent continues to have significant responsibility at work and at church, both of which require a fair amount of his time. I have the girls to teach, a baby to care for, and my small painting business that I hope will grow this year.
We have decided that our theme for 2014 will be "Joy". This word came to mind because regardless of how busy we are, we can always find time to be joyful. This will certainly be a good reminder in these first few months of 2014 where winter can seem to drag on and on and on. When the girls are restless and I am frazzled, I can and will find joy. And in those beautiful, beautiful Spring and Summer months when life is bliss, and it is easier to find joy, I will hold on to those moments to get me through the long and dreary days.
I hope you all have a joyful year and have found a way to focus your thoughts and energy into positive thinking! One sure way is to look to our Heavenly Father and bring praise every day and in every situation. the "sacrifice of praise". Cheers to another beautiful year!
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Four Daughters
Four daughters. Four precious little women. God has given me a huge task in giving me these four ladies. Raising four girls in an American culture that screams at them: DIET, EXERCISE, ORGANIC, GLUTEN-FREE, YOU'RE FAT, YOU'RE TOO SKINNY, DON'T EAT THAT. Not to mention the images of women that will be portrayed to them through media; magazines at the check-out counter, the internet, movies. And of course, the most influential and damaging of all, friends and family.
We love our family. Really and truly, we do! But even the most loving family member can say words that can injure a child, especially a female child. Some things that I have heard said to my children are, "You're too skinny, you need to eat more." "Look at your fat belly."
I then heard my child repeat those things about herself. "I'm fat." And I run in and try to do damage control. NO, you are NOT fat!! You are three-years-old!!
We live in a society obsessed with body types. Thick, thin, skinny, fat, obese. Any of these can be unhealthy.
For two years I lived in Mississippi, the "fattest of the fifty states". While living there I became disgusted with a culture of gluttony and all-you-can-eat buffets. Then I come back to living in Pennsylvania, and many of my Facebook friends are the complete opposite - super-skinny, gym obsessed females.
I am trying to teach my daughters that there is a happy medium between these two extremes. I try to feed my children healthy food, a variety of fruits, vegetables, meat, dairy, and grains. But we also eat fast food on occasion, and we eat something sweet after almost every dinner. Moderation is key.
Also, please don't pick yourself apart in front of my children. If you are really that concerned about your "chub" sticking out over your pants, do something about it. Don't mention it in front of my little girls. I have no desire to have my six-year-old stay in her size 6 pants. She is growing! She NEEDS to find that her clothes are too tight or too short so that she can grow appropriately into a young woman.
What are ways that you find helpful to raising daughters to have a healthy body image?
We love our family. Really and truly, we do! But even the most loving family member can say words that can injure a child, especially a female child. Some things that I have heard said to my children are, "You're too skinny, you need to eat more." "Look at your fat belly."
I then heard my child repeat those things about herself. "I'm fat." And I run in and try to do damage control. NO, you are NOT fat!! You are three-years-old!!
We live in a society obsessed with body types. Thick, thin, skinny, fat, obese. Any of these can be unhealthy.
For two years I lived in Mississippi, the "fattest of the fifty states". While living there I became disgusted with a culture of gluttony and all-you-can-eat buffets. Then I come back to living in Pennsylvania, and many of my Facebook friends are the complete opposite - super-skinny, gym obsessed females.
I am trying to teach my daughters that there is a happy medium between these two extremes. I try to feed my children healthy food, a variety of fruits, vegetables, meat, dairy, and grains. But we also eat fast food on occasion, and we eat something sweet after almost every dinner. Moderation is key.
Also, please don't pick yourself apart in front of my children. If you are really that concerned about your "chub" sticking out over your pants, do something about it. Don't mention it in front of my little girls. I have no desire to have my six-year-old stay in her size 6 pants. She is growing! She NEEDS to find that her clothes are too tight or too short so that she can grow appropriately into a young woman.
What are ways that you find helpful to raising daughters to have a healthy body image?
Monday, January 6, 2014
Caroline Rose
December 20, 2013 is a day to be remembered.
I woke up at about 5 am to take a shower, being sure to wash with Hibicleanse. Trent carried the girls out to the warmed up van in their pajamas and covered them with blankets. We were on the road by 6ish. We drove to Trent's parents house and dropped the sleepy big girls off to spend the day with Grandpa and Grandma.
Trent drove me to the hospital. We were very excited to meet our fourth baby and prayed for good health. We arrived at Women & Babies Hospital shortly before 7 am. My cesarean section was scheduled for 9 am. Check-in went smoothly and I waited patiently through the routine procedure.
I was very vocal about my previous negative experience with the spinal, and wanted to be sure that the same mistakes weren't made again. I talked with the anesthesiologist and he assured me they would do their best. Before I knew it they were ready for me to go to the operating room. Trent waited outside as I walked down the hallway into the operating room. As soon as he left my side I could feel myself start sweating. The walk down that hallways brought back a flood of memories regarding Magdalena's c-section.
As they prepared me for the spinal the nurse joked about the fact that I was sweating and I told her how nervous I was. Everyone was really fabulous and patient with me. She tried one spot and I could feel pressure on my spine. Instead of continually trying the same spot (which is what happened last time), she took the needle out. The doctor came and had me sit differently. Because of my scoliosis when I arch my back it made it more difficult to get a wide space in my spine, and it actually closed off a space that would normally be open. The doctor recognized this and adjusted my body accordingly. The nurse anesthetist was then able to get the spinal in with no problem. I was praising the LORD!
Trent came in and the surgery began. I felt like everything went much quicker this time than it did before. When they pulled the baby out one of the nurses said, "Ah, he's peeing! I mean - SHE's peeing. It's a girl!"
It was quite humorous because I was very confused as to the reference to "he". Even though we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl I was pretty sure we would have another girl.
Caroline Rose Hess entered the world at 9:09 am, was 19 inches long and weighed 4 pounds, 14 ounces. She is lovely and perfect.
Immediately after being born the NICU nurses who were in for the delivery began giving her oxygen. She had fluid in her lungs. They took her over to the NICU and Trent went with them. I went into recovery alone. As strange as it may seem, I was extremely grateful that I had a previous experience with a NICU baby. I was much more confident and sure of her safety than I was with Maggie.
Trent came back to recovery to give me a Caroline update and to call our family. First up were big sisters. Trent called his parents house and asked to talk to Anne.
Anne said, "What is it?"
He said, "Well, her name..."
And Anne excitedly said, "HER?!?!"
and Grandpa and Grandma (who were on speaker phone) said, "Her??"
Anne said, "Well, what is her name??"
Trent said, "Caroline Rose Hess."
Anne said, "Caroline.... what a nice name."
The girls were all excited to hear about their baby sister.
Trent also called my mom who was waiting very impatiently at work to hear the news! She contacted my dad and siblings for me. A little while later we put the announcement on facebook to spread the word more quickly.
I'll try to write more about our 10-day NICU stay on another post!
I woke up at about 5 am to take a shower, being sure to wash with Hibicleanse. Trent carried the girls out to the warmed up van in their pajamas and covered them with blankets. We were on the road by 6ish. We drove to Trent's parents house and dropped the sleepy big girls off to spend the day with Grandpa and Grandma.
Trent drove me to the hospital. We were very excited to meet our fourth baby and prayed for good health. We arrived at Women & Babies Hospital shortly before 7 am. My cesarean section was scheduled for 9 am. Check-in went smoothly and I waited patiently through the routine procedure.
I was very vocal about my previous negative experience with the spinal, and wanted to be sure that the same mistakes weren't made again. I talked with the anesthesiologist and he assured me they would do their best. Before I knew it they were ready for me to go to the operating room. Trent waited outside as I walked down the hallway into the operating room. As soon as he left my side I could feel myself start sweating. The walk down that hallways brought back a flood of memories regarding Magdalena's c-section.
As they prepared me for the spinal the nurse joked about the fact that I was sweating and I told her how nervous I was. Everyone was really fabulous and patient with me. She tried one spot and I could feel pressure on my spine. Instead of continually trying the same spot (which is what happened last time), she took the needle out. The doctor came and had me sit differently. Because of my scoliosis when I arch my back it made it more difficult to get a wide space in my spine, and it actually closed off a space that would normally be open. The doctor recognized this and adjusted my body accordingly. The nurse anesthetist was then able to get the spinal in with no problem. I was praising the LORD!
Trent came in and the surgery began. I felt like everything went much quicker this time than it did before. When they pulled the baby out one of the nurses said, "Ah, he's peeing! I mean - SHE's peeing. It's a girl!"
It was quite humorous because I was very confused as to the reference to "he". Even though we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl I was pretty sure we would have another girl.
Caroline Rose Hess entered the world at 9:09 am, was 19 inches long and weighed 4 pounds, 14 ounces. She is lovely and perfect.
Immediately after being born the NICU nurses who were in for the delivery began giving her oxygen. She had fluid in her lungs. They took her over to the NICU and Trent went with them. I went into recovery alone. As strange as it may seem, I was extremely grateful that I had a previous experience with a NICU baby. I was much more confident and sure of her safety than I was with Maggie.
Trent came back to recovery to give me a Caroline update and to call our family. First up were big sisters. Trent called his parents house and asked to talk to Anne.
Anne said, "What is it?"
He said, "Well, her name..."
And Anne excitedly said, "HER?!?!"
and Grandpa and Grandma (who were on speaker phone) said, "Her??"
Anne said, "Well, what is her name??"
Trent said, "Caroline Rose Hess."
Anne said, "Caroline.... what a nice name."
The girls were all excited to hear about their baby sister.
Trent also called my mom who was waiting very impatiently at work to hear the news! She contacted my dad and siblings for me. A little while later we put the announcement on facebook to spread the word more quickly.
I'll try to write more about our 10-day NICU stay on another post!
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
8 Years of No Regrets
Eight years of marriage. I am grateful to God for each day, each moment, of these eight years.
This past year Trent and I have been to funerals of people we believe died too young. People in the midst of raising their families. People who could be us.
Through the tears during the funerals and after, we think of their loved ones left behind. Left to carry on in the midst of their pain. To raise their families without the support of their spouse, but with the help of God.
I imagine myself in their shoes. What if something were to happen as unexpectedly as these deaths occurred to my dear Trent? Would there be anything I would do differently with the time we have?
No.
Both Trent and I realize how precious life is.
James 4:14 says, "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."
I don't intend for this post to sound sad and morbid, but this is something that needs to be thought about, if only to remind us to celebrate the little moments. So we celebrate the little things, a child loosing a first tooth, a girl learning to read, a chubby hand writing her name all wobbly, each smile, each hug, each whispered and exhausted "good night". Because this is life. As each of these small moments pile on top of each other, always stacking higher and higher, they create this beautiful, precious life. Eight years of moments. Is there pain in the midst of these moments? Of course! A frustrated word, an irritated look. But those are followed with forgiveness, with love, acceptance, sometimes tears. And always, always, the love of God in the midst of all we do.
So today as we celebrate eight years, we are grateful. Grateful for each of these tiny moments stacking ever higher. Giving praise to God for the beauty of life He has blessed us with. We strive to find beauty in each day, as exhausting as it may be. Because whenever our time comes to meet our Lord, we want to have said we lived a life of no regrets.
No regrets. Only love.
This past year Trent and I have been to funerals of people we believe died too young. People in the midst of raising their families. People who could be us.
Through the tears during the funerals and after, we think of their loved ones left behind. Left to carry on in the midst of their pain. To raise their families without the support of their spouse, but with the help of God.
I imagine myself in their shoes. What if something were to happen as unexpectedly as these deaths occurred to my dear Trent? Would there be anything I would do differently with the time we have?
No.
Both Trent and I realize how precious life is.
James 4:14 says, "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."
I don't intend for this post to sound sad and morbid, but this is something that needs to be thought about, if only to remind us to celebrate the little moments. So we celebrate the little things, a child loosing a first tooth, a girl learning to read, a chubby hand writing her name all wobbly, each smile, each hug, each whispered and exhausted "good night". Because this is life. As each of these small moments pile on top of each other, always stacking higher and higher, they create this beautiful, precious life. Eight years of moments. Is there pain in the midst of these moments? Of course! A frustrated word, an irritated look. But those are followed with forgiveness, with love, acceptance, sometimes tears. And always, always, the love of God in the midst of all we do.
So today as we celebrate eight years, we are grateful. Grateful for each of these tiny moments stacking ever higher. Giving praise to God for the beauty of life He has blessed us with. We strive to find beauty in each day, as exhausting as it may be. Because whenever our time comes to meet our Lord, we want to have said we lived a life of no regrets.
No regrets. Only love.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Restricted and Released
At our sonogram last Wednesday we learned that we officially have another "Growth Restricted" baby. Intra-Uterine Growth Restricted is a term to define any baby below the 10th percentile. This percentile is the average of two measurements: the head and the abdomen. December Baby is now in the 8th percentile (head was 12% and abdomen was 2%). I was not shocked to learn this.
Our doctor has amazing bedside manner and was extremely kind. We really don't know why this happened again. Where we go from here is to the doctor, weekly sonograms with the specialist, and two or three more appointments with my OB before delivery. We will be scheduling delivery for the week before Christmas. It all seems somewhat cold and strange, but we are excited. Other than small size the baby is totally healthy. I cannot ask for more.
Also this week I had this urgency to learn something of our foster children. I debated whether or not to contact the foster mother who they went with after leaving our home. I finally decided to take a chance and hope that she didn't think I was a creepy stalker.
I will be forever grateful to her for her kind response. She told of our foster daughter doing well in therapy and in preschool. Of our foster daughter having fewer outbursts of tantrums. She told of our foster son "asserting his independence" and I could just picture him getting into all sorts of mischief like only a soon-to-be two year old boy can. She told of him still enjoying snuggles after his nap.
My immediate response was hard to describe. In some bizarre way I was hurt. I had pushed for our foster daughter to be in some sort of therapy or counseling and was rebuffed by the caseworker. I was told that "not all children in foster care are in therapy". I was sad that I was not the one who was snuggling this sweet boy after his naps and disciplining him when he misbehaved. More than anything I realized just how sad I was, and how much I really missed these kids.
After praying about this while I painted that evening I was hit with two things. First of all, I was being selfish. Second of all, I had not released this irrational hope that some day our foster son would return to us. The selfish part was easier to let go of. By the time I went to bed that evening I no longer held onto those feelings, but was instead SO SO grateful for the improvement in our foster daughter and grateful to her new foster parents for working hard and poring so much of themselves into her. The second part was not as easy for me. I had never dealt with grieving for someone I loved so dearly, let alone releasing them into an unknown future.
As I fell asleep that night I was praying for release.
And I dreamed.
Those of you who have read my blog before know that I have occasionally had dreams that I believe have significant meaning. This was my dream.
I was in a sort of hospital waiting area for adoptive parents. Many babies and children were being brought in but I was not being chosen for any of these children. Then a call came in that a newborn baby was going to be dropped off. I rushed to the entrance of the building with the "director" of this program.
It was cold outside and as the automatic doors opened a blast of freezing air rushed into the building hitting me in the face. Lying on the ground was a newborn baby, naked except for a heavily soiled diaper and a blanket that the wind had whipped off of him. I rushed outside to scoop up to the baby and comfort him in my loving arms.
The director and I went back to his office. He sat at his computer and began searching for a family for this baby. As I stood holding and comforting this precious baby who I already loved I got so angry!! Didn't the director see that I was the perfect mother for this baby? Didn't he see how much I loved this little boy?
When I shouted something along those lines in my frustration at the director he just calmly turned and looked at me. He said, "No. I have already chosen a child for you. But this is not him. You need to wait."
I think even within my dream I realized that this director was no ordinary man, but God, or an angel of God.
It dawned on me that this is what I was doing with our foster son. I rushed in to take things into my own hands and ended up hurt and resentful when things didn't go my way.
I woke up with an amazing feeling of peace and a "God-like" understanding of the situation. Eight months after our foster son left us physically I was finally able to release him emotionally.
I won't even look into what the messenger in my dream meant when he said he had already chosen a child for me. I am just so so grateful to God for this dream, to the foster family who has had the children longer than we did, and am trusting in the Lord to be with them wherever they go.
Our doctor has amazing bedside manner and was extremely kind. We really don't know why this happened again. Where we go from here is to the doctor, weekly sonograms with the specialist, and two or three more appointments with my OB before delivery. We will be scheduling delivery for the week before Christmas. It all seems somewhat cold and strange, but we are excited. Other than small size the baby is totally healthy. I cannot ask for more.
Also this week I had this urgency to learn something of our foster children. I debated whether or not to contact the foster mother who they went with after leaving our home. I finally decided to take a chance and hope that she didn't think I was a creepy stalker.
I will be forever grateful to her for her kind response. She told of our foster daughter doing well in therapy and in preschool. Of our foster daughter having fewer outbursts of tantrums. She told of our foster son "asserting his independence" and I could just picture him getting into all sorts of mischief like only a soon-to-be two year old boy can. She told of him still enjoying snuggles after his nap.
My immediate response was hard to describe. In some bizarre way I was hurt. I had pushed for our foster daughter to be in some sort of therapy or counseling and was rebuffed by the caseworker. I was told that "not all children in foster care are in therapy". I was sad that I was not the one who was snuggling this sweet boy after his naps and disciplining him when he misbehaved. More than anything I realized just how sad I was, and how much I really missed these kids.
After praying about this while I painted that evening I was hit with two things. First of all, I was being selfish. Second of all, I had not released this irrational hope that some day our foster son would return to us. The selfish part was easier to let go of. By the time I went to bed that evening I no longer held onto those feelings, but was instead SO SO grateful for the improvement in our foster daughter and grateful to her new foster parents for working hard and poring so much of themselves into her. The second part was not as easy for me. I had never dealt with grieving for someone I loved so dearly, let alone releasing them into an unknown future.
As I fell asleep that night I was praying for release.
And I dreamed.
Those of you who have read my blog before know that I have occasionally had dreams that I believe have significant meaning. This was my dream.
I was in a sort of hospital waiting area for adoptive parents. Many babies and children were being brought in but I was not being chosen for any of these children. Then a call came in that a newborn baby was going to be dropped off. I rushed to the entrance of the building with the "director" of this program.
It was cold outside and as the automatic doors opened a blast of freezing air rushed into the building hitting me in the face. Lying on the ground was a newborn baby, naked except for a heavily soiled diaper and a blanket that the wind had whipped off of him. I rushed outside to scoop up to the baby and comfort him in my loving arms.
The director and I went back to his office. He sat at his computer and began searching for a family for this baby. As I stood holding and comforting this precious baby who I already loved I got so angry!! Didn't the director see that I was the perfect mother for this baby? Didn't he see how much I loved this little boy?
When I shouted something along those lines in my frustration at the director he just calmly turned and looked at me. He said, "No. I have already chosen a child for you. But this is not him. You need to wait."
I think even within my dream I realized that this director was no ordinary man, but God, or an angel of God.
It dawned on me that this is what I was doing with our foster son. I rushed in to take things into my own hands and ended up hurt and resentful when things didn't go my way.
I woke up with an amazing feeling of peace and a "God-like" understanding of the situation. Eight months after our foster son left us physically I was finally able to release him emotionally.
I won't even look into what the messenger in my dream meant when he said he had already chosen a child for me. I am just so so grateful to God for this dream, to the foster family who has had the children longer than we did, and am trusting in the Lord to be with them wherever they go.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
A Turn of Events
At my 20 week ultrasound we saw an awesome baby in the 43rd percentile. The Maternal-Fetal specialist doctors said we couldn't have a more perfect looking baby. Because of my history of Intra-Uterine Growth Restriction (IUGR) with Magdalena they recommended we come back in another 6 weeks just to be on the safe side.
Last week I headed into my ultrasound appointment excited for another peek at our cutie. I saw this amazing baby, so perfect with it's little heart thumping away. The tech gave our baby an estimated weight of 1 pound 10 ounces which sounded great to me! After the routine check the ultrasound tech said that one of the two doctors will be in to chat with me shortly.
The doctor kindly informed me that unfortunately our baby has dropped to about the 12th percentile. I was very shocked and very disappointed. Not crushed. Not devastated. I now have to go back every 2 1/2 weeks for ultrasounds to check on baby's growth.
The doctor suggested that I add about 250-500 calories to my diet. I have added about 350 by drinking Ensure boost (I really feel like an old person), but I'm willing to do it for baby. The bummer is that the doctor said it may not even help, but it is worth a shot.
At this point they have no idea why the baby would drop so drastically in percentile. We already knew the baby would be on the smaller side since the baby will be delivered around 36 weeks. Our prayer for baby is similar to our pray for Magdalena, "Grow, grow, grow!"
As strange as it may sound, I am grateful for my experience with Magdalena because so much of my pregnancy with her was spent in fear of the unknown. Since she came through the pregnancy and delivery small but mostly healthy I am not fearful for this baby. More than anything the thought of all the extra appointments just makes me feel tired.
I am remaining optimistic and joyful despite the small size of the baby and the fact that the baby is breech (another wild one?). We were prepared for the fact that we will be having another C-Section so that also takes away a lot of the fear that I had in preparation for Maggie's birth. All in all, I am grateful for the opportunity to carry another child and am trusting God in all circumstances.
Last week I headed into my ultrasound appointment excited for another peek at our cutie. I saw this amazing baby, so perfect with it's little heart thumping away. The tech gave our baby an estimated weight of 1 pound 10 ounces which sounded great to me! After the routine check the ultrasound tech said that one of the two doctors will be in to chat with me shortly.
The doctor kindly informed me that unfortunately our baby has dropped to about the 12th percentile. I was very shocked and very disappointed. Not crushed. Not devastated. I now have to go back every 2 1/2 weeks for ultrasounds to check on baby's growth.
The doctor suggested that I add about 250-500 calories to my diet. I have added about 350 by drinking Ensure boost (I really feel like an old person), but I'm willing to do it for baby. The bummer is that the doctor said it may not even help, but it is worth a shot.
At this point they have no idea why the baby would drop so drastically in percentile. We already knew the baby would be on the smaller side since the baby will be delivered around 36 weeks. Our prayer for baby is similar to our pray for Magdalena, "Grow, grow, grow!"
As strange as it may sound, I am grateful for my experience with Magdalena because so much of my pregnancy with her was spent in fear of the unknown. Since she came through the pregnancy and delivery small but mostly healthy I am not fearful for this baby. More than anything the thought of all the extra appointments just makes me feel tired.
I am remaining optimistic and joyful despite the small size of the baby and the fact that the baby is breech (another wild one?). We were prepared for the fact that we will be having another C-Section so that also takes away a lot of the fear that I had in preparation for Maggie's birth. All in all, I am grateful for the opportunity to carry another child and am trusting God in all circumstances.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Perfect Parenting
Since school has started and the "back to school" excitement has worn off for most parents and children, I've started to hear a lot of complaints about what is expected on the parents' end of schooling. Things like: each child has a different colored folder that they are supposed to bring back to school on a certain day of the week; the child has to wear a specific color for a specific day of the week; they don't to any Science, History, or Geography until 3rd grade; there are so many papers to remember to sign every night; we are so busy with AWANA, sports, gymnastics, music, etc.; once you have multiple kids in school the paperwork seems to be insurmountable; and the list goes on.
I am the only mom in my mom's group who homeschools. When the other moms are talking of these things they look at me and throw up their hands and say, "I don't know HOW you homeschool!!" They go on to list things that I must be in order to survive homeschooling: super-organized, extremely patient, "super-mom" to get everything done, practically perfect.
The fact is, I am none of those things! I don't have to remember for my children to wear a specific color for "spirit week", I don't give them different colored folders for each day of the week, and the only extracurricular activity we do currently is piano lessons one day a week and our piano teacher comes to our house. We do Science, History and Geography every day in addition to Bible and a Bible memory verse for each week.
I'm not super-organized, but I do try to have some semblance of order to our day. The kids are responsible for their own papers. I will punch holes in them but they are responsible for putting their papers into their folders.
I am not extremely patient. Just the other day I got frustrated and yelled at Anne for repeatedly saying that 1+1=11. I showed her physical objects and said, "If you have one bottle of paint and I give you one more, how many do you have?" And she said, "11". AGGGHHHHHHH!!!! So frustrating!! I definitely yelled at her in my frustration. No, certainly not patient.
I am not super-mom. If you could peek into my house this morning you would find dirty dishes, dirty bathrooms, toys and books all over the floor, unmade beds and a very untidy house. Because the reality is this - I can't do everything. Today we are going to be starting school late in order to catch up on housework.
I am not practically perfect. I have many parenting flaws; I have many teacher flaws. All that to say that I am glad that we are homeschooling. Despite the frustrations I really do enjoy teaching the children. Yes, our home is messy. Yes, I get frustrated. Yes, I am tired.
Before school started I made a sign that said, "Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord. To Him be the glory." Has our Hess family done that so far this school year? Yes, I believe we have. We still have a long way to go to complete the year, but I have seen progress in our lives so far. I am hopeful that we will continue to grow closer to the Lord throughout this year. We don't know what the future holds, but we do know that we are enjoying living life together in these simple, everyday moments.
I am the only mom in my mom's group who homeschools. When the other moms are talking of these things they look at me and throw up their hands and say, "I don't know HOW you homeschool!!" They go on to list things that I must be in order to survive homeschooling: super-organized, extremely patient, "super-mom" to get everything done, practically perfect.
The fact is, I am none of those things! I don't have to remember for my children to wear a specific color for "spirit week", I don't give them different colored folders for each day of the week, and the only extracurricular activity we do currently is piano lessons one day a week and our piano teacher comes to our house. We do Science, History and Geography every day in addition to Bible and a Bible memory verse for each week.
I'm not super-organized, but I do try to have some semblance of order to our day. The kids are responsible for their own papers. I will punch holes in them but they are responsible for putting their papers into their folders.
I am not extremely patient. Just the other day I got frustrated and yelled at Anne for repeatedly saying that 1+1=11. I showed her physical objects and said, "If you have one bottle of paint and I give you one more, how many do you have?" And she said, "11". AGGGHHHHHHH!!!! So frustrating!! I definitely yelled at her in my frustration. No, certainly not patient.
I am not super-mom. If you could peek into my house this morning you would find dirty dishes, dirty bathrooms, toys and books all over the floor, unmade beds and a very untidy house. Because the reality is this - I can't do everything. Today we are going to be starting school late in order to catch up on housework.
I am not practically perfect. I have many parenting flaws; I have many teacher flaws. All that to say that I am glad that we are homeschooling. Despite the frustrations I really do enjoy teaching the children. Yes, our home is messy. Yes, I get frustrated. Yes, I am tired.
Before school started I made a sign that said, "Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord. To Him be the glory." Has our Hess family done that so far this school year? Yes, I believe we have. We still have a long way to go to complete the year, but I have seen progress in our lives so far. I am hopeful that we will continue to grow closer to the Lord throughout this year. We don't know what the future holds, but we do know that we are enjoying living life together in these simple, everyday moments.
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