Encouraging Words

I did not write the piece of writing I'm posting today - it came to me in my e-mail, from a homeschool e-group I'm subscribed to. The author was not identified. I just copied and pasted from my inbox, and I tried to get it to look right, but I don't know anything about HTML, so I couldn't do it. So forgive the one-word lines, etc! Anyway - I thought the message was nice. At least it hit home for me. Enjoy:

Encouraging words

Homeschooling moms are the same way.

Mrs. Jones prefers packaged curriculums, and every year her children work through their grade-appropriate textbooks right to the last page. Her homeschool seems so nicely structured and orderly!

Mrs. Smith loves to write her own literature-based unit studies and her children wear out the numbers on their library cards. Her children's unit study notebooks are very impressive and her family seems so well read.

Mrs. Thompson is more of a classical homeschooler and can't imagine a day without Latin, Greek, and logic. Her budding Rhodes scholars seem destined for academic greatness.

Of course, Mrs. Peters is something of a free spirit and really loves to do hands-on projects and real life learning with her children. Last year they recreated the entire city of Rome using Sculpey clay and her children all won blue ribbons at the county fair with their homemade cheese, hand-knit afgans, and their beautiful jams.

Then there is you. You go through each day doing the best you
can. While you pray for God's guidance and really do want the best
for your children, you can't help but think that if you were more
like Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Smith or Mrs. Thompson or Mrs. Peters, your
children would be better off. After all, they each have very good
reasons for doing things the way they do, and they can each make a
case for their methods being the best for children.

Let me let you in on a little secret. If the textbook mama had to
write her own unit studies, she would probably tear her hair out. If the laid-back mama tried to follow an intense classical program, she and her children would all be miserable. If the classical mama tried to just relax and fly by the seat of her pants, she would come undone. If the literature and unit study mama got hit up with a stack of textbooks and workbooks she would feel like she'd been thrown in jail! You see, all of those methods are good - just different.

There was a time that I would end up in tears some nights after
happily settling in with a stack of new homeschool catalogs. There
were just SO MANY ways to educate children! It seemed like whatever I did, my children would be missing out on some essential method or
plan or approach. Just like Jeff had to revamp everything to be a
good "mom," and just like I couldn't function well until things were returned to my ways, we need to remember different families will educate their children in very different ways. God isn't in the business of creating cookie-cutter children, and it is truly
beautiful to realize that He will equip each of us to teach our
children in the way that is best for them and for us.

The whole system works well until we start comparing ourselves to
others in ways that defeat us. If we allow ourselves to be blown
about with the winds of every homeschooling method we discover, our
inconsistency will harm our educational efforts instead of helping
them. Please don't misunderstand - as our seasons in life or our
circumstances change, we will find our homeschooling endeavors
flexing, changing, and growing with us. If God calls a textbook mama to turn Charlotte Mason (or visa-versa), it will be a GOOD thing because God did it . . . . but if that textbook mama goes CM because she feels guilty about not having nature studies, she will just frustrate herself and her children.

Seek your husband's council and surrender your dreams and plans
to the Lord. Ask Him what he would have you do with your children,
then move ahead obediently and don't look back. (I Cor. 15:58 -
Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmoveable, always
abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your
labour is not in vain in the Lord.) Re-evaluate your approach
periodically, but if you feel that panicky, guilty need to do more or do things differently, take the time to wait on God before trying to be just like someone you aren't. (Proverbs 3:5,6 - Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.)

If you allow God to direct your children's education, they may or
may not ever learn Latin, bake with freshly-ground wheat, or take
weekly nature walks, but they will receive the education they need to be equipped for God's purposes in their lives!

I'm a little sad . . .

that A and C have gone to a Bible conference without the rest of us this weekend. Not that I didn't want them to go - I did. But it just didn't work out for the rest of us to go this time.

J has taken a lot of time off from her part time job at the grocery store for other trips, and for an upcoming trip in July and she just took 2 weeks off this month for an exchange program to Toronto for school (which I should post about another time). So J couldn't come.

If K and I went, we would have to miss all the meetings on Monday and drive home that day, missing the picnic, too, because K has a follow-up appointment with the surgeon who set her broken arm early Tuesday morning. I tried more than once to change the appointment, but was told she must come that day, first thing in the morning.

Besides that - I've been dealing with a cold for over a week. Right now I'm in the irritating dry cough stage, where you cough until your eyes water.

So - it was obvious that it was not the Lord's will that we go as a family this time. I'm really glad that A & C got to go though. C has been looking forward to it for months. They left at about 5:20 this morning, so should be getting there sometime this evening. Hopefully A will stay awake - I stocked the car well with caffeine and crunchy munchies. And he says it should be easier than usual to stay awake, since I'm not along to depend on to keep him awake. Not sure about that logic, but I can kind of see it. :o) I hope they (and everyone there) have a real encouraging weekend.

Not again!

On Sunday, K was outside running towards the soccer ball and tripped on the screw-in thingie for tying the dog to. She landed on her hand, but had a lot of pain in her forearm. Poor kid! I hate it when my kids are hurting! This is the same arm she broke her elbow on when she fell while ice skating just over 3 years ago. I took her in to the hospital right away, and the doctor said that yes, it was broken but it was a straight break. She got a half-cast, held in place with a tensor bandage. He wanted her to come back the next day to see the orthopedic surgeon in case it needed to be pinned. So, off we went, back to the hospital on Monday morning to see the orthopedic surgeon. He said it was not straight, but out about 17 degrees, and that she needed to go to the operating room to get it put back into place (it's called a closed reduction, meaning there is no incision). K didn't like to hear that news! I tried to assure her that she would be given medicine to put her into a deep sleep, and she wouldn't feel a thing, but it was hard for her to believe. We were put on the bottom of the OR list for the day, and since she had eaten breakfast (they told me to go ahead and let her have breakfast, since we didn't know when her appointment would be) she needed to wait until at least 4 p.m. anyway. It was a loooong day of sitting around in waiting rooms, trying to keep her comfortable and occupied enough to not think about food or going into the OR too much! At 5 p.m. it was her turn, and off she went. She was out by 5:45. When she woke up she said, "Is it over?". She said it felt like she went to sleep, turned her head, and woke up a second later, but she couldn't figure out why she was in a different place. The surgeon said it was not easy to get the bone back into place - it took a lot of force. She has a cast for 6-8 weeks, and is to see him again for a follow-up x-ray a few days from now. They had 5 unexpected OR cases that day, and we were the last to leave the outpatient surgery department. The nurse there was working her regular 12 hour shift - she was supposed to be done at 6:45 or 7:00. We didn't leave until 8:45, so I wonder what time she got to leave - what a long workday for her!

K is collecting autographs on her cast.

The Home Stretch with Painting / Garage Sale Finds / Gardening

Ahhhhh - I think this long drawn out painting process is ALMOST over. Whew. So many interruptions with working the weekend, errands, chauffering, etc. We decided on a light green for the hall/entry - it's not what I originally envisioned, but it's growing on me. What I envisioned just does not look right with our woodwork. Which I would have known from the beginning if I had better color sense. Interior decorators are for people like me.

Last night I started on the trim painting - we have painted baseboards and casing. Let's see - there are seven door frames and one window frame to paint, that have edges that require a little craft brush to get it to look right. It's going fairly well, but it's time consuming.

Thankfully we've had no big boo boos such as spilling a can of paint. (That happened when we were first married - a can of oil-based paint got tipped over on the carpet one morning in our rush to get ready for work. I called in to work to ask if I could have the day off to try to save the carpet, and he said yes, and I worked on it ALL DAY. I managed to get it looking good again, using thinners and a lot of elbow grease. Not the way I like to spend a day off. But at least the carpet was saved!)

On a different note, I came across a garage sale last Friday and there were perennials for sale. I bought some yellow irisis, a lily, an anemone, and an Annabelle hydrangea - they grow these big white mophead flowers. Yesterday I planted all except Annabelle - needed to find out where to plant her. It seems she needs morning sun, so I guess she'll go in my front bed. I also bought a 2 gallon Red Wing crock in excellent condition for $12. That was a steal of a deal, I think.

I was going to add some pics of my new baby perennials, but they look pretty boring. So here are a couple of pics from last summer. This one is my south bed:

And here are some containers I had by the front door. I can't wait until things are in bloom again!

Update on Prince the Pony

For a couple of weeks now, Prince has been at the 4-H leader's place. I mentioned in an earlier post that she kindly offered to take him for a while and try to teach him some manners. It was NOT a Fun Experience for A and Cindy and the neighbor kid to get him into her trailer. Her trailer is not the step-up kind, but had a ramp, and it was just too spooky to him. He was rearing a lot, and bumping his head a couple of times on a corner of a trailer door (the ramp goes up to close, and then there are two little doors above that close). K was in tears and I was worried he would slash his head open. This went on for quite a while. Finally I went and sat in the truck (it was so cold and windy) and prayed about it. Once I warmed up I got out expecting to see more of the struggle (O faithless heart!) and he was in the trailer! Kind of makes you wonder why we don't just ask the Lord for help first thing.

It seems he has settled in nicely at Cindy's, and she's making big strides with him. He's looking at her (before he would just turn away), he's leading nicely, not nipping, etc. I'm quite pleased that it's going so well - she said he's learning very quickly. He's also established himself as head of the herd, or whatever you call it, which is quite funny, because he's sooooo little - he looks like a midget horse next to her two horses.

Here's a picture of him from last summer - he's sticking out his tongue. Goofy little pony. Check out the white markings on his face - to me it looks like a tornado. Maybe we should rename him Twister?

Mom

If my mom were still living, yesterday - the 17th - would have been her 70th birthday. It's hard to believe. She died when she was only 46. I had just turned 17. She's been gone for over 24 years.

Let me introduce you to my mom.

Where to begin? I guess at the beginning. Marlene Ann Haugland was born on Easter Sunday, 1938, in North Dakota, where she lived all her growing up years.


She was the daughter of Alice Isabelle Rhodes and Melius Sigurd Jorgan Knute Haugland (S. K. for short.) Her dad was the county treasurer or something, but when she was 9 they moved to the country and my grandpa started farming. She had one brother.


She graduated from a country school in a class of 9, and was valedictorian.


She went to teacher's college in Valley City, North Dakota, where she met my dad, who lived in Valley City, and was also going to teacher's college. They married in 1959,



and had 2 children, both girls.



They lived in North Dakota for a time after they were married, and moved to Minnesota in the late 60's.

Mom taught elementary school for many years - 4th grade, sometimes a 3/4 split. She was a very good teacher - many have told me that she was their all time favorite teacher.


Her hobbies were reading (big thick books like James Michener - she was a very fast reader, and seemed to stick with historical novels), knitting (I still have and treasure a pair of pink mittens that she made), sewing (she made many of her own clothes, and in several of my elementary school pictures I'm wearing outfits she made), baking (I remember her telling me that she could make a cake from scratch by the time she was nine. We ALWAYS had dessert.), researching the family tree (we made a trek to Salt Lake City one summer so that she could do research at the Mormon complex there. I have 2 binders full of information that she dug up. She used to keep all her family tree papers in a box from the grocery store that said "Mixed Nuts"), she had a good sense of humor, she enjoyed going for bike rides, tennis, camping trips (we had to stop at pretty much every museum we came across - her favorite diversion on those trips), writing letters (she wrote both her mother and her mother-in-law every single week for years and years and years, and a separate handwritten letter each Christmas to each person on her Christmas card list, which contained dozens of names). She took Norwegian language lessons, was part of a card club - (they played hearts, I think) - and a study club - they took turns researching a topic, and presenting it to the club.

Most importantly to me, she was a wonderful mom. She was loving, kind, understanding, had a wry sense of humor, and was a good listener.

In 1976, at age 38, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy and went through chemo. It was really scary to a 10 year old kid. I had a horrible fear that I wouldn't always have her, and I came to really treasure Mom. She was unable to finish that school year, but went back the following fall, if I remember right. Life resumed a fairly regular course, but with lots of medical appointments. I remember the day she came home with a wig - they told her she would go bald, but she never did, and never had to wear the wig, to her relief. It was a mercy.

In 1979, we were on a camping trip in Manitoba and she got sick - very weak and tired. When we got home we found out that she was very anemic because the cancer had spread to her bones. She went back on chemo. She continued to teach when she felt well enough. The waiting rooms at the hospital and clinic became very familiar places. She had a few hospital admissions for different problems that arose, and also had to have occasional bone marrow biopsies, which were excruciating. She did not have "easy" veins, and had to endure a lot of painful pokes for weekly blood cell counts during chemo treatments and for the chemo drugs themselves. After the veins in her arms got too scarred, they started drawing blood from her ankles, but after a nasty bout with phlebitis, she got a Hickman catheter installed right into a vessel in her chest, which gave her a much-needed end to the pokes, but also required daily cleaning and injections of Heparin, which she learned to do herself.

One evening when she was hosting the study club group at our house, she lost her vision in the upper half of one eye. She continued hosting, but she had suffered a stroke in her eye, as a side effect to one of the drugs she was taking. I remember this being a big deal, because it could happen again, but in her brain. This was a worry, but I guess her cancer was bad enough that the drug was really needed, and she continued taking it. In January of 1983, she did end up having a major stroke. I woke up before 6 a.m. that morning to the sound of very loud voices and commotion in the house. I got out of bed and looked out the upstairs window onto the driveway and saw the ambulance parked there, and my heart filled with dread. Dad came up the stairs soon after, telling me that mom had fallen and could not move or speak clearly. It was an awful day. I remember her doctor showing us the CT scans of her brain. There were huge dark areas on the scans where there was lots of bleeding in her brain. Mom went into a coma for weeks, I think. She slowly came out of it, and had to learn to talk all over again, but was never able to speak totally clearly again. I remember sitting with her on her bed as she read Reader's Digest to me, stumbling over the words, and I would correct her and it felt like such a strange role-reversal. She never regained use of her right side at all, and was wheelchair-bound. She was admitted into a nursing home, where she lived her last months as the cancer continued to spread, and she died the end of November, 1983.

There is a big hole where Mom used to be, and I still miss her very much. I know she would have been a wonderful grandma.

Painting Project Update and Eating Bugs

We've now finished painting K's room - actually finished a few days ago - and she's now moved back into her bedroom. She's loving how it turned out. We used Pratt & Lambert paints. Three walls are Airway - a light blue, and the fourth is Spectrum Brown, a rich brown. We matched the colors to the horse wallpaper border pictured in a previous post.

Also painted the upstairs entry, hallway, laundry room, wall above basement stairs, rec. room, and downstairs hall in Dulce, which is hard to describe - kind of peachy/yellowy/orangey (the kids are calling it skin-color, but anyone with skin that color would not be healthy). Sounds gross, and actually looks gross upstairs in the entry/hall/laundry - it's way too dark for the hallway up there. We will be redoing that another color. But decided to leave the downstairs Dulce - our woodwork down there is brown, and it coordinates fairly well with that. We have big windows down there that let in lots of light, too. We did a feature wall in Red River in the rec. room - kind of a brick red, which we are all liking.

I am NOT good at choosing colors, and felt pretty bad about picking the wrong color for upstairs, after A's hard work putting it on (and it is expensive). But it was giving me a stomachache looking at it, and he was kind enough to say we could choose something else for up there. So - back to square one. Funny, because it's the last area to get finished, but actually the area I wanted to get painted the most. And I STILL don't know what color to paint there. It's hard to find something that will look nice - we were never quite happy with the color our woodwork upstairs turned out - it's more orangey than I wanted. Plus our linoleum and carpeting upstairs don't match each other all that well, so to match woodwork and two un-coordinated floor coverings is proving tough.

Okay - I know that in the grand scheme of things, this is a minor matter, but I do want to get it right, because I know it will be a few years before we paint it again. I'm feeling silly for having so much angst over such a thing as a paint color. Especially after talking with a friend yesterday, whose family recently got back from a trip to Uganda to help in a Christian orphanage. They just received word that one of the workers that they had grown to love during the two months they were there has died. She also told a story of how a child there gifted her with two grasshoppers, which was half of his afternoon snack - this was a sign of his love and acceptance of her. She knew that refusing to accept his gift would cause him much sadness and confusion, and to do so was not an option. So she ate a grasshopper, and handed the other to her son. There is not much to eat, so bugs are food there, and the children are thankful for them. (She said it wasn't bad - it had been fried in oil, and sprinkled with salt - it was salty and crispy. And she lived.)

Such excess and such need on the same planet . . . what is my response? Searching question.