tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51046333605574395202024-03-02T22:43:46.828-08:00Smith Moments"Find your eternity in each moment."
--Henry David ThoreauSmith Momentshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303776989990873897noreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-9351987733981075512013-11-30T19:18:00.000-08:002014-12-26T18:12:01.022-08:00An Explanation of My HiatusWhile I've certainly been a busy-body lately, I haven't posted in an eternity and thought it might be time to provide some insight...<br />
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As change wafts through the branches of northern Illinois and has painted us beautiful pictures of God's creations, we Smiths find ourselves letting the natural seasons of our lives dictate how our days look as well...even if that means letting some of our favorite things that just don't fit into the current season fall to the ground.<br />
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Since my last post, 3 areas of my life (that all rank higher than blogging and even brain development) have shifted dramatically enough to beckon for more of my attention for now.<br />
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<i>Supporting my Husband: </i>Brent and I are so grateful for the months God gave us to focus on miscellaneous projects while Brent was out of work for a year, but about the time I last posted, Brent jumped back into the saddle with two hard-working, successful feet (like he always does when he starts anything). His new full-time job as a facilities manager for 22 of our church's northern Illinois buildings is keeping him busy, but is a huge blessing for us. It feels comforting to have long-term work that pays for our basic needs and I'm especially grateful I can now send my husband out the door each morning to a lower-stress, service-oriented job that he truly loves.<br />
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Although most work is done by contractors, Brent enjoys getting his hands dirty and fixing breaks and leaks to his heart's content. He occasionally brings our kids along in "Daddy's gay tuck" (that's what MaryAnn calls the grey pick-up truck he uses for work) to visit various buildings, which makes them each feel grown up and very happy alongside their Daddy. Sometimes towards the end of the day, I drop the kids off at Dad's office (which is at our local building that's within walking distance on fair-weather days) to play basketball in the gym while Dad wraps things up...and then joins them for a game of HORSE. And whenever necessary, Brent customizes his schedule so he can serve those in need in our church congregation and community, attend the millions of recitals, games, and concerts our kids keep having, OR report to the home-front if I raise the red (or white) flag. Even though it's a major pay cut from Corporate America, it's a dream come true type of job that we hope to enjoy for a long time during these precious years of raising our children together.<br />
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Brent supported me so graciously in getting a good start on writing up <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/" target="_blank">Present Parenting</a> and in sharing more on this blog during his lay-off period...but now the winds have shifted. Of course I like to soar once in a while, but probably because I absolutely adore my husband, I also find great joy in lifting him as the wind beneath his wings. <br />
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<i>Educating my Children: </i>Since my last post, Carefree Summer ended and a new school year is in full-swing, which swarms me with learning and practicing and extra-curricular activities all day...every day. We continue to maneuver between a combination of home-school mixed with several public school classes.The few short minutes of computer time that I might squeeze into a day are consumed with communicating and coordinating with teachers and coaches and directors and principals. Juggling schedule conflicts feels like a full-time job...as does the taxiing that's required to keep all the balls in the air. And oh, how feeding everyone in a timely manner keeps me literally twirling on my toes.<br />
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<i>Creating Life: </i>But most of you already know that what's keeping my body the busiest right now is something far more meaningful than making it to a ballet class on time or reviewing that violin piece once more or getting a gym suit washed before tomorrow.<br />
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I'm creating another precious human being and it's exhausting. I need more sleep. I need more time to sweep the floor. I need to sit and just breathe more often and take the time to entertain lots of "Is the baby about <i>this</i> big now?" and "When are you going to be <i>this</i> fat?" questions while little hands connected to giggling bodies rub and poke at my belly. I need to retire to bed by 9, which wipes out any potential for evening hobby time.<br />
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While my energy goes to our new little miracle, I need to take the time to soak in my children's overflowing energy because whenever I start to wonder if it's all worthwhile, it is the simple, but focused attention I give to my children that make it so. I simply can't afford to spend very many minutes self-absorbed behind a screen...it would eventually drain me completely.<br />
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Prior to getting pregnant, I imagined that I would very much enjoy documenting my thoughts on pregnancy throughout these blessed 9 months and sharing why Brent and I continue the eccentric tradition of adding yet another child to our family. I do hope to still get to a journal entry on the <i>why</i>, but I can clearly see now that a daily or weekly or even monthly update is too far beyond my energy level. And because my biggest battles in pregnancy are typically not gagging over food and leaning over the toilet (I'm so lucky!!), but instead include frequent washes of fatigue and a thrilling emotional roller coaster, my posts would probably just be a big alternating mix between "This is the most glorious time in my life! These years won't last forever..." and "What was I thinking?!! If we could turn back the clock, I would vote for a different path..." anyways.<br />
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And this world already has enough drama methinks.<br />
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So...While we both feel that Brent's new job came as a divinely inspired career move packaged personally for us at this time in our lives AND we deeply value our children's education and the attention they each need every day AND we jointly feel inspired about adding another precious bundle to our brood, each of these pieces all naturally add up to less opportunity to play around with our <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/" target="_blank">Present Parenting </a>site and this here blog for now.<br />
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We still love those projects and we still look forward to setting aside time to answer specific parenting and discipline questions received over <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/about/contact" target="_blank">here </a>on our site. Please feel free to drop us a line--it was a joy to interact with a couple who asked about sleep issues with their 3-year-old recently. I would <i>love</i> more parenting and brain development and discipline questions and insights from friends, family, and readers! It keeps my mind moving in useful directions and makes me feel like I can positively influence the world beyond the walls of my own home occasionally...and that's important for a mama...even one who sincerely loves giving most of her minutes to her little ones 24/7.<br />
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But overall, we must feel content with our lack of cyber-space time during this current season.<br />
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We expect that spring may emerge again for a more detailed sharing of our parenting moments, philosophies, and tactics here and at <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/" target="_blank">Present Parenting</a> (because my love of brain science and emotional regulation and the potential parents have for spreading world peace through present-minded discipline is still burning bright inside my heart), but we will wait patiently and see.<br />
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And we trust that dormant seasons have a divine purpose as well. <br />
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**But do check back occasionally because posts may sneak out here and there...I'm not sure I can keep from posting about our big 20-week ultrasound that is scheduled just in time for Christmas on Dec. 23...We're having a family debate about if we should discover Baby's gender that day...we probably will...<br />
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-57815128223399741642013-09-04T09:24:00.001-07:002014-12-26T18:14:17.646-08:00Final Road Trip Re-cap + a tribute to Aunt DorothyI just have to take a few final minutes to re-cap something that keeps running through my mind regarding our recent road trip: Exchanging emails and texts and sharing blog posts and Facebook statuses and even Skyping or video-chatting are all such lovely ways of communicating when miles separate us from loved ones. But creating opportunities for gatherings and making the effort to visit face-to-face (even if it means traversing 1000s of miles) reigns supreme!<br />
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Nothing beats the real live physical and emotional presence of family and friends.<br />
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This concept is even more near and dear to our hearts because:<br />
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Less than two weeks after returning home from this trip, we received the tragic news that <a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/lifestyles/announcements/obituaries/dorothy-smith-gillespie/article_6edd46ea-08d6-11e3-a902-0019bb2963f4.html" target="_blank">Aunt Dorothy</a>, the primary organizer of the big Smith family reunion, died suddenly from heat exhaustion while hiking in southern Utah on August 15. She was only 56 and was the first of all 8 of the Smith siblings to return home to greet their parents on the other side despite the fact that she was the second youngest and healthiest one. We are heartbroken for her husband and seven children, one of which is away finishing up his mission in Chile. But, how grateful we are for the opportunity to have seen her and her family--in person--so recently.<br />
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The Utah reunion--which greatly influenced the existence of our 2013 Summer Road Trip and all the lovely memories we accumulated because of it--may not have happened if it wasn't for Dorothy. She happily took on the stress of managing all the details so hundreds of family members could enjoy a day together. And now she is gone. I still can't believe it. Her influence will surely be felt for generations.<br />
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She left such big shoes to fill in order to plan for the next gathering...but shoes worth filling (it will probably take a few people to fill them) because gathering people together for real life time together is a very worthwhile endeavor. You just never know when you're going to see them again.<br />
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Thank you, Aunt Dorothy, for your example, life, and light!! You are very missed already and will be for years to come. We love you and your family!!</div>
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A few final road trip thoughts and memories:<br />
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<Seeing pictures of Mount Rushmore or the Hoover Dam or the St. Louis Arch doesn't convey the same emotion or stir the same thoughts as a real life encounter. ></div>
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<As we were driving through the mountains, Brent, who normally feels quite determined to get us to our next location in a timely manner, suddenly stopped the van and jumped out to smell the roses for several minutes. He threw a stick upstream and shared his boyhood joy of watching it dance along the water while his children huddled up next to him. Knowing Brent would start a new job and the kids would begin new school years upon returning home from our trip, I sensed the symbolism of this quiet, still moment and felt grateful for the strength and refreshment that such moments give us if we take the time to have them amidst all of our daily and weekly and yearly rushing around. We don't have to take the time for these moments. But I'm always glad when we do.> </div>
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<Without our road trip, when else would MaryAnn get the chance to monkey around on the toddler chair in Nana's kitchen that every other one of her siblings, Smith cousins, her uncles and maybe even her Daddy(??) have already fallen in love with when they were her age? MaryAnn felt very blessed.><br />
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<I wonder how many other lucky dolls got to explore the country this summer...I smiled when I found their church clothes tucked in neatly next to ours the first time I opened the Sunday Bag down in AZ. Everything else they brought along was stashed in their individual doll suitcases. Watching my girls care so completely for their girls was a true treat.></div>
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<We enjoyed Roadside Cereal during our western route to use up the remaining milk that would've spoiled back home in our fridge because we're frugal like that...my dad would be so proud..><br />
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<GG didn't get to see Kenny in person, but because we were with her in AZ and we Skyped with Kenny regularly while he ventured around up in Utah, GG and Kenny connected nonetheless.><br />
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<My older kids took turns leading Christopher around during our journey home. "Seeing" the world through his blind eyes is a very insightful experience and one that truly enlightens us all.></div>
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<And this is my confession of how we actually endured 70 hours on the road with a 2-year-old.></div>
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I will be forever grateful that we took the time, energy, and money to live out of our van for two weeks so we could travel to places we don't see very often, but especially so we could visit with family and friends who mean the world to us, but just live a tad too far for us to cross REAL paths (instead of just virtual paths) often enough. </div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-71047451056703470342013-09-01T18:43:00.000-07:002013-09-01T18:43:22.920-07:00Part 3 of the Ol' Western Road Trip 2013As part of our big loop around most of the states that sit west of the Mississippi River, we had the very unique and inspirational and quite adventurous opportunity to travel home with another family from IL who had similar plans this summer.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrfRIPghdu05-4jso6Ig3TCcm7nGdkXatBNDLQjMnkLWNJnMV7AxrAzZuSnIhOAiEDyVT0FvG9ClvbAVU0qT0Bz0gHZnTLTcy4UZ_VknmO-IcX2iR6nJ5oFpLKWTn1236XUZ0MLOtPwOz/s1600/IMG_5548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrfRIPghdu05-4jso6Ig3TCcm7nGdkXatBNDLQjMnkLWNJnMV7AxrAzZuSnIhOAiEDyVT0FvG9ClvbAVU0qT0Bz0gHZnTLTcy4UZ_VknmO-IcX2iR6nJ5oFpLKWTn1236XUZ0MLOtPwOz/s1600/IMG_5548.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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Meet Celeste.<br />
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Celeste is an incredible woman from our church congregation who has 10 children. Her youngest six line up with our six kids quite nicely; they are compatible both in ages and in personalities.<br />
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Celeste and her husband Les' parenting situation is extremely unique because 4 of their 10 children have been diagnosed with a rare genetic degenerative disease called <a href="http://www.bdsra.org/" target="_blank">Batten's disease</a> that includes severe seizures, blindness, dementia, and the gradual loss of motor skills. Two of them (ages 15 and 11) have digressed so dramatically that they cannot travel. So while Les stayed home to care for Elizabeth and James, Celeste packed up the remaining 6 children (including 16-year-old Christopher who is blind and 6-year-old Samuel who is nearly blind) and drove out to Utah in a caravan with another family and then journeyed home with us. (Their two oldest boys are away from home serving missions.)<br />
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During our Utah stay, we met up with Celeste and her kids to hang out on a mountain lake for a day where the kids enjoyed tubing and Brent impressed us all with his wake-boarding skills. After lots of fun in the sun, we started our homeward eastern trek all together a few days later (3 adults, 12 kids and 2 vans).<br />
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<Though he couldn't see them, Christopher kept asking about other motor boats he could hear in the distance. He enjoyed the job of warning them when we had someone in the water.></div>
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<Brent was a 6-and-under magnet for the entire trip...a role he takes very seriously and with lots of love.></div>
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<Celeste says all the effort it took to brave this trip was worth having Samuel see his grandparents because by next summer his sight will likely be completely gone.></div>
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<The Littles had no desire to go out on the tubes, but boy did they LOVE riding on the boat!></div>
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About halfway home, we stopped for a camping adventure in Mount Rushmore. Besides viewing the majestically carved faces after a thick fog thankfully lifted that morning, other highlights included multiple dutch oven meals, a chain of severe thunderstorms, wet sleeping bags, no need for bug spray the entire time (I couldn't figure out where all the mosquitoes were, but was so happy not to meet any), a peaceful picnic by a lake, a drive through a safari park, and hundreds of thousands (literally) of roaring motorcycles engines who were gathering for an annual Harley Davidson pow-wow near Mount Rushmore the same weekend we happened to be roaming through the neighborhood. (They were very kind to us...a few of them offered rides to Christopher and eventually to all the rest of our kids who swarmed over to them.)</div>
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<Eggs in a bag...yummy and almost no clean-up...courtesy of my Eagle Scout husband.></div>
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<This is what we saw after our climatic entrance into Mount Rushmore National Park. I admit I was a little nervous about the memories we'd take away from this historic site.></div>
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<About 20 minutes later, we caught this outlining glimpse...but with patience, we eventually experienced the full clear breathtaking view.></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><For the first time in my life, I noticed that George Washington's statue also incorporates his old fashioned jacket as well (because someone pointed it out to me). MaryAnn noticed that all those big faces had really big noses.></span></div>
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<These two were determined to make peach cobbler...it was delish!></div>
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We experienced the beauty of the earth in places we'd never visited before.<br />
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We experienced the opportunity to deepen friendships with such an awesome family (in other words...we gratefully all still like each other despite how camping and road-tripping naturally encourages the entire spectrum of emotions to shine brightly for all to see).<br />
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We also experienced a few bumps along the way...with the bumpiest part being when Celeste and I and the 6 youngest kids were riding in Big Blue (their 15-passenger van) and the back left tire blew out while Celeste was driving at 70 miles/hour somewhere in South Dakota. It was scary. I'm still shocked and thankful that angels guided Celeste as she carefully pulled the van to a complete stop without rolling us off the road into a messy heap. Brent, who was driving behind us with the older kids, felt a knot in his stomach when he saw the tire fly away and then was so thrilled that we got safely to the side of the road that he came running up to our van with big cheers only to find that most of the occupants in our vehicle were crying hysterically. After lending his shoulder for teary eyes, Brent changed the tire and the big kids thoughtfully offered to ride in Big Blue after that. But the spare was not in much better condition than the blown tire, so we stopped for the night in Parkston, SD and continued on our way the next day after hitting the tire shop...to finally cross the finish line into our driveway after 10 pm on Sunday, August 4.<br />
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What an accomplishment for Celeste to take such a journey without her husband's rock solid support right by her side. I'm so proud of my friend!<br />
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<When we arrived in Mitchel, SD, there were no rooms in any of the 5 or so major hotels because bikers had already claimed them all. So we had to drive 20 miles off the freeway to Parkston, SD (a town of 1488 people) where we got the last two rooms at the quaint Rainbow Motel...pictured below.></div>
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<Our final day's journey occurred on a Sunday. We decided to dress ourselves in prep for attending church somewhere along the way; however, we never got to a building in a timely manner. But the Lord was in our hearts as we thanked Him for our safe and enjoyable trip.><br />
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It was a good trip.</div>
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We would totally do it again.</div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-2667086410952114102013-08-24T06:28:00.000-07:002013-08-24T06:28:06.175-07:00Part 2 of the Ol' Western Road Trip 2013(road trip 2013 continued...first installment is <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/08/part-1-of-ol-western-road-trip-2013.html" target="_blank">here</a>)<br />
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Upon leaving Arizona, we journeyed on up to Utah, but with only half of our children. Kenny was already up there spending Bear Lake time with the Ron Smith family. And Kirsti and Allison decided to spend one more night with Nana and Papa in Mesa and then drive up to the Utah reunion with them.<br />
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Brent and I felt a little strange traveling with just 3 kids. When we stopped at Hoover Dam on the way up, I just kept thinking about how half of my children were missing this experience. Sure they would see pictures when we all reunited again, but there's just no substitute for face-to-face real-life time...a theme that clung to my heart throughout our entire trip.<br />
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Our carload also stopped in St. George, Utah and spent the night with one of Brent's high school buddies who is an optometrist there...and I'll say it again, "It is soooo great to catch up in person!"<br />
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At the Oliver and Barbara Smith reunion we had the privilege of mingling with this lovely group pictured below at Grandma Smith's old home (overflowing to the park across the street and the church building behind her house). As I spotted a cousin I hadn't seen in ages, I kept wishing we could just look at each other and know and feel everything we'd want to share about the last several years because time marched on too quickly those couple of days and didn't give us enough minutes to speak all the words I would've loved to hear.<br />
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<Now I have picture I can whip out next time I find myself explaining to fellow grocery shoppers that having a large family isn't that strange in our neck of the woods. Brent and I and our six kids are nestled in the middle of this huge crew (in grey shirts). Among the 53 cousins (of which Brent is one), there are 138 children so far and many cousins have yet to even start on the next generation. Having 4, 5, 6, 8, or 10 kids was quite normal at this party. Personally, my mothering has been greatly influenced by this inspiring Smith family. They are all incredible people and it was a pleasure to be in their presence again.> </div>
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<The Ken Smith crew (that's us) was in charge of flippin' burgers for lunch on a 90+ degree day. Way to go guys! Pictured above are Brent and his three brothers + his nephew Trevor.></div>
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Reunions that involve lots of talking among adults who haven't seen each other in a while can be difficult on their children who in most cases have never met one another. But a bouncy house, a rock wall, a slip 'n slide, card games, a slack line, and Uncle Kevin's (Brent's younger brother) big bus did the trick for all ages. </div>
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<That's my Allison way up there!></div>
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MaryAnn kept herself busy by hangin' around on the rock wall (a couple of feet off the ground) for as long as we'd let her</div>
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or filling up her water cup (whenever I wondered where MaryAnn had wandered off too, I learned quickly to check the water jug station)</div>
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and my favorite...sliding down the very slide that her Daddy (and probably his Daddy) used when he was about her size.</div>
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<Thanks for having such a cool family, Papa!></div>
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<Random side note: Enormous snow cones are very IN out in Provo. We could see why. Loved them. Anxious for the trend to spread east.></div>
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A visit to Temple Square is always on the agenda when we're in Utah. There's a magical feeling there. And even more memorable this time around...Brent had a job interview (for the facilities manager role of 22 church-owned buildings back here in northern IL) while the kids and I roamed the premises--hence the reason he's looking so handsome in that suit. A day later, right when we were driving by Temple Square on the freeway, the job offer we'd been patiently awaiting months to receive, popped up in his email and we promptly accepted. :) </div>
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<"Choo Choo!" and "Yellow!" MaryAnn kept calling every time the transit system passed by.> </div>
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One of my favorite parts of this whole western journey was visiting my brother and his family who live in Utah. We just don't get a chance to see them very often and we love every minute of cousin/aunt/uncle bonding time when we can get together...AND we rolled into town just days after Baby Brynlee joined their family, so our reunion was an extra special treat!!<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Our visit to Brian's house coincided with the initial digging of the hole that will soon become a swimming pool in their back yard. Very exciting and quite entertaining...and now we're seriously considering another visit next summer.</span><br />
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**And not pictured in the Utah installment of our trip (because I was too busy talking)...I had a glorious visit with <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/06/her-erica.html" target="_blank"><i>my</i> childhood best friend</a> who happened to be in Utah from Texas visiting her parents. Brent let me stay out until midnight with her even though we were getting up the next morning to drive 11 hours to Mount Rushmore...talk about true love (both for my BFF and for my sweetheart...I feel so blessed)! </div>
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-77790452970963369292013-08-22T19:50:00.000-07:002013-08-22T19:51:56.847-07:00Part 1 of the Ol' Western Road Trip 2013<div class="MsoNormal">
"Honey...about the big reunion this summer...what's our plan?"</div>
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"Well, Utah IS a looong drive away."</div>
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"And it's a lot of gas away." </div>
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"Remember how stinky the van got the last time we took a hot summer road trip?" </div>
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"Do you think any of the kids would get car sick this time?" </div>
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"How would MaryAnn handle the 'all day and all night in your carseat' concept?"</div>
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"Hmmm. Staying home might feel more like a vacation for all of us..."</div>
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Bottom Line: Is a family-reunion-based road trip worth the effort it would take to get there?</div>
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"We hope so," Brent and I concluded during both random and structured discussions about what family memories we should make the effort to create this summer.<br />
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And now that we have gone, seen, and conquered, I can boldly declare, "Yes. Yes! YES! Cramming our lives into our 8-passenger mini-van to spend nearly 70 hours traversing over 4500 miles of our nation’s highways and mountainous roadways on a journey that took us through IL, MO, OK, TX, NM, AZ, NV, UT, WY, SD, MN, and WI was absolutely worth the face-to-face family and friend time we received in return."<br />
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Less than a week before our planned departure to Utah, we realized we wouldn't see 87-year-old GG (Great-Grandma Louise--Brent's maternal grandmother) during our westerly trip to Utah because she needed to stay in Arizona for health reasons. It had been 2 1/2 years since we'd last seen her in person and we don't know when we'll be headed out west again...so it became obvious that we should change our route and take a special southern jaunt to AZ on GG's behalf.<br />
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The following pictures show a hint of how happy I am that we added 12 hours and another thousand miles to our agenda just so we could sit face to face with our GG again and experience life in a way that simply can't be done via Skype. </div>
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<After driving for 27 hours straight through to Mesa, AZ, we all soaked in GG's special spirit for 3 whole days. Our only regret is that Kenny was already in Utah and therefore missed this portion of the trip.></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><In person Tablet 101 instruction provides such perfect generational bonding moments. I wonder what my grandchildren will teach me when I'm 87...how to fly? how to read brainwaves?> </span></div>
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<I have many pictures of my children alongside great-grandparents who are gazing at them instead of at the camera...and they are some of my all time favorite pictures because I sense wisdom, appreciation, and compassion in the eyes of the elderly as they seem naturally compelled to admire the youthful energy of children. If I could remember to ditto that same serene expression when my children our bounding through the kitchen at dinner time each night, I would do well as a mother. Thank you G.G.> </div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The majority of our family memories of GG revolve around visiting "GG's Pool" which is located at the retired folks' trailer park close to Brent's parents' home in Mesa. Though she no longer lives there, she still owns her trailer in the park, so we simply had to take a nostalgic dip while we were in town. After watching us from the sidelines for over an hour, Brent carefully and genuinely insisted on helping GG "swim with us"...something her very active body used to do all the time. </span><br />
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<Our special AZ detour allowed these two to finally meet for the first time and gave MaryAnn the privilege of making memories with such an amazing lady.></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><Cliche or not...I've decided that I would walk a thousand miles...and I would walk a thousand more...and I would sit in a crammed van for 27 hours again...just t</span>o see my husband care so tenderly for his dear Grandma King during these fragile years. T<span style="text-align: start;">he experience made my love for both of them grow deeper and stronger.> </span></div>
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Besides our extra-special GG time, we of course enjoyed many other bonus AZ memories: we got to help Nana blow out her birthday candles, hang with all the Smith-side cousins in their home town, visit with friends, cook in Nana's kitchen, and create using the infamous and enormous bucket of Nana 'n Papa Legos. </div>
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Yes. The Arizona deviation was very worthwhile.</div>
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(more trip installments to come...)</div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-32117552232911720712013-08-20T14:25:00.000-07:002013-08-20T14:25:28.151-07:00We're BackAfter gallivanting through the neighborhood and around the country during these last final weeks of summer break (sometimes all together and sometimes in separate directions), we've successfully crammed our hearts and minds with as many memories as we could possibly pack in...and now it's time to start the Fall routine once again. *sighofmixedemotions*<br />
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The boys are starting classes at the local middle school tomorrow. Every day they will head off to prepare a little here and a little there for adulthood (already!). I already miss the carefree days of yester-year as I ponder on the reality that my boys are truly growing up. They are half out from under my wings these days...I miss the joy of having them huddled up near me in the nest with messy faces and painted hands as they beckoned for my attention 100 times a day...yet I'm so proud of them as they stretch their own wings. Kenny is fully immersed in the <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/05/self-discipline-education-blaze-your.html" target="_blank">Self-discipline Stage</a> and Diggy is transitioning into it. Best wishes this year, Boys!!<br />
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The girls and I get a few more years of childhood together. I'm so thankful for this precious time I get to share with them during these early stages of learning in the <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/accountability-stage-education-set-and.html" target="_blank">Accountability Stage</a> and the <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/following-stage-education-mimic-million.html" target="_blank">Following Stage</a>. We (including Diggy for half the day) will settle into our home routine of playing and reading and practicing and cooking and cleaning and crafting and exploring together. I'm pretty excited for some good one-on-one time with each of them. I never tire of watching them absorb new skills at an individual, unique pace. <br />
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And as the kids and I start a new chapter of learning together, my dear Brent gets to begin a new adventure as well. After a year of unemployment, he reports to a new job on August 26 as the facilities manager for 22 of our church's building in northern Illinois. We're quite excited about this paradigm shift in our lives. I'll share a few more details about our decision to accept this job after I spend a week or so re-capping a few of our summer memories...most of which include Daddy because we truly took advantage of his glorious love and attention these last few months.<br />
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<Brent and his brothers don't waste a minute of together time. It is always worth driving thousands of miles to observe their hang out sessions.></div>
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-48500294778311041752013-07-14T13:36:00.000-07:002020-03-18T09:03:18.670-07:00(more than) A Week's Worth of Wonder: Summer 2013I confess that I was looking forward to summer so that less of my time would be consumed with explaining math problems or working grammar concepts into every day play time or carting kids to constant after-school activities...and more of my time could be consumed with one of my favorite pass-times--writing about the people and things that fill my heart and mind up with joy.<br />
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But to my surprise, even though I yearned for more writing time several weeks ago...I'm finding that the warm breezes and rays of sunshine keep calling me away from my computer screen during this relaxed season. I keep finding myself outside...a lot...enjoying this beautiful world with my children while they are young enough to point out things like bugs and flowers and airplanes and the moon.<br />
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So, as much as I'm drawn to document and share the wonder I see inside and outside the walls of my home, I'm even more drawn to experiencing moments one-on-one with each of the members of my family (husband included!). That's what fills me up the most. Whatever's missing on the few blog posts that I squeeze in here and there will at least still be written in my heart--and among my memory cells. ;)<br />
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<i> <We went to a park that had a really really really long tube slide. MaryAnn kind of liked going down with Daddy, but very much hated the echoing screams of kids (her siblings, eh-hem) that trailed down right behind them. I'm afraid of their screaming sometimes, too, MaryAnn.><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IR2WcFiXToWVEggzkUwi3cM3T_5sf8B_0p9zFjJ5e-UgD4QBhL7hs4IgP9JHvLe0asW-G-gEhWxDbSvWXcgZ4GRfEUMac5jBxM6GkSlg2rLacdejOqgLJ0pZBGaRbUJSQs7sHNzPla0/s1600/IMG_20130603_202413_727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IR2WcFiXToWVEggzkUwi3cM3T_5sf8B_0p9zFjJ5e-UgD4QBhL7hs4IgP9JHvLe0asW-G-gEhWxDbSvWXcgZ4GRfEUMac5jBxM6GkSlg2rLacdejOqgLJ0pZBGaRbUJSQs7sHNzPla0/s400/IMG_20130603_202413_727.jpg" width="225" /></a></i></div>
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<i><Backyard baseball turns back the clock for me. We really could have used a good umpire like Uncle Brian.></i></div>
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<i> <And when the surge in baseball playing prompted a search through Dad's old baseball cards, we were in great need of Uncle Brad. I just couldn't keep the who's who in baseball excitement going, so the kids' energy veered off in a different direction...></i></div>
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<i> <Brent and I have accepted a few odd jobs this summer in which our kids can work alongside us...like constructions projects and babysitting gigs. It feels a bit like milking cows in the suburbs. We feel like it is time well-spent and the $$ earned is set aside specifically to fund all of the millions of activities, camps, and field trips our kids hope to be involved in.> </i></div>
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<i><The boys also sold and delivered home-made cinnamon rolls to several neighbors over Father's Day weekend to fund their upcoming Boy Scout camp. The rolls were a huge hit...we're receiving unsolicited orders for the 4th of July. Cinnabon...watch out for the Smiths. *totally kidding*><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHNns_LRbv55negY2_vEUNrawJL8fkO_O9z3LCxLCgdLFu7NIcP-48F-dWyTyMroxj12IEygk64JT8O5IZ8v_H1zMqSd2r5xNx-zpSwwNT-LEj9Kp-IpMmn4oOTkzOush80E54hl33uc/s1600/IMG_20130615_101621_551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHNns_LRbv55negY2_vEUNrawJL8fkO_O9z3LCxLCgdLFu7NIcP-48F-dWyTyMroxj12IEygk64JT8O5IZ8v_H1zMqSd2r5xNx-zpSwwNT-LEj9Kp-IpMmn4oOTkzOush80E54hl33uc/s400/IMG_20130615_101621_551.jpg" width="400" /></a></i></div>
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<i> <I'm glad we still find time to play games and ride big wheels.></i></div>
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<i> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYtWmGx7O8hl5WSmm-vyUnXvzz-nHEbj04kYcW_26Io9s9P_pq9w1nxqUgV22h0HDwYzSYXLlFrRxeY5gSOmo0ycRiz3GoQ2nyU7UORH71aorgMQJgEkm0WtWpSGQllam1svXDP4U_ekA/s1600/IMG_20130615_163801_630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYtWmGx7O8hl5WSmm-vyUnXvzz-nHEbj04kYcW_26Io9s9P_pq9w1nxqUgV22h0HDwYzSYXLlFrRxeY5gSOmo0ycRiz3GoQ2nyU7UORH71aorgMQJgEkm0WtWpSGQllam1svXDP4U_ekA/s400/IMG_20130615_163801_630.jpg" width="400" /></a></i></div>
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<i><My 3 oldest and I had the privilege of accompanying our local choir director as guests at the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's pre-show sound check during their recent visit to Ravinia. It was such a treat to see that even the MoTab has to receive direction about improving tone, articulating words, and sitting quietly until it's time to sing. Afterwards, directors Mack Wilberg and Ryan Murphy chatted up close with us and graciously signed my kids' mini hymn books. The concert was incredibly inspiring!> Note that the choir's name changed since this was first published and is now the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. </i></div>
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<i><Certain things seem to skip a generation...like mending. Thank you, Kirsti!></i></div>
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<i><I have a nice jewelry box that I received back when I was a teenager. It sits on my dresser today and it's still filled with all my 90s jewelry that I've been saving for my kids to rummage through some day (because I used to love sifting through my mom's jewelry box). Watching their little hands pick up treasures and attach new meaning to my old memories is well worth carting that box to our various homes in five states all these years.> </i></div>
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<It is so nice to have scouts in the house.></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-16766549367038015982013-07-08T20:09:00.001-07:002013-07-08T20:09:35.793-07:00Christmas in July--Part 3The day after we celebrated our country's birthday, our Christmas in July present-opening extravaganza came to a close as Kirsti unwrapped her birthday packages first thing in the morning. <br />
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After the flying wrapping paper settled, we headed to the beach with a caravan of friends.<br />
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A few months ago, Kirsti handed me this small piece of notebook paper:<br />
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It reads:<br />
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<i>Kirsten's 9th Birthday List:</i><br />
<i>hand pensol sharpaner</i><br />
<i>preeschool garbej can (for her classroom in our basement)</i><br />
<i>close for American girl doll's doll (mini-Kirsten)</i><br />
<i>cunducter's wand</i><br />
<i>a bike with handol brake</i><br />
<i>a horse</i><br />
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It was a peak inside my spirited girl's mind...I felt like I'd just been handed a present myself!<br />
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Children keep life so full of refreshing ideas.<br />
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As I discussed the list with Brent, it was obvious that we could make a few of her dreams come true...but hmmm, a horse? We've been saying no to a dog for years. How did 'a horse' make it onto her list? Kirsten is growing very mature these days, but I love that she's still young and innocent enough to dream bigger than she knows is possible. I hope the logical side of her brain doesn't catch up too quickly. Her robust imagination balances me out in a beautiful way.<br />
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Brent and I decided that perhaps a little pony ride at the local park district farm would be sufficient. But then just a couple of weeks before Kirsten's birthday, Brent contacted a woman at our church that we hadn't seen in awhile. As they talked about a variety of unrelated topics, he discovered that she cares for an elderly man who owns horses just 30 minutes from our house...and she generously offered to have our kids come over not just for a five minute ride, but to <i>learn to ride</i>...as often as their hearts (and our schedule) could handle this summer. <br />
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So we spent a Friday morning back in June up close and personal with horses...feeding, petting, grooming, saddling, and riding. All the kids were all smiles. Kirsten's horse was even white. After trotting around with a guide for a lap or two, the older ones bravely took the reigns and shared a few very memorable moments of mentally trusting and bonding with and leading another one of God's great creations. I imagine it felt as scary and as glorious as parenting does sometimes.<br />
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<I'll never forget Cienna's continuous gleeful giggle the entire time she was mounted on the saddle...my once nervous-about-trying-nearly-anything child was bold and beautiful and bubbly trotting around the arena.></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<we might as well try for a group shot once in a while></div>
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As parents, we are so thankful for our loving Heavenly Father's tender mercies whose inspiration helped us make impossible (but worthwhile) birthday wishes come true. And a BIG thank you to our dear friend!<br />
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We love you, Kirsten, and feel so lucky to be your parents! You add such grace and adventure and style to our family. For the third time since summer solstice I say, "I can't imagine life without you!!"<br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com121tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-27059131188012450222013-07-02T07:43:00.000-07:002013-07-02T07:43:09.004-07:00Christmas in July--Parts 1 & 2<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Half of our children have birthdays in the middle of summer...all
within about a week.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So we do a lot of celebrating and present-opening and special
meal-making this time of year. MaryAnn is first. Diggy is 3 days later. And Kirsten 5 days after
that. It feels like Christmas.</div>
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My Sweet MaryAnn, you have grown so much since the day we brought
you home from the hospital. I still remember holding you with such care because
your little body seemed so fragile compared to all those older siblings I'm
used to corralling. I remember how your brothers and sisters welcomed you home and exploded with so much love that I thought for sure our
house would just lift off the ground and float up to heaven right back to where
you came from.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I blogged about a few of your early milestones<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2012/04/amazing-baby-brains.html" target="_blank">here</a>. I have very much adored watching you
grow! You have inspired me many times. (examples<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/03/maryanns-helen-keller-moment.html" target="_blank">here</a><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/01/meditating-with-maryann.html" target="_blank">here</a>) I can't imagine life without you!<o:p></o:p></div>
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And now, you can officially be counted among the world's 'Terrible
2-Year-Olds.' Sometimes I wonder where that phrase came from. Is it American? European? (I have no idea.) Does it exist because the unscarred purity of the newborn
days disappear as the average two-year-old becomes a mirror directly reflecting
the drama of each moment in this up and down world? If so, that means when I really stop to look at you at this new age, I get to see a glimpse of both the beautiful and the
not so beautiful aspects of every day life (and switching back and forth between these two countless
times because there are oh so many moments in a day). As your mother, I don't
mind sharing all of life's extremes with you. Your joys and challenges make my
heart grow bigger and stronger as we journey together. To me, it feels more on the "Terrific!" side.<o:p></o:p></div>
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MaryAnn's sisters were worried about sleeping in too late on her birthday morning, so they went to bed early and I heard their pitter-pattering feet at 5:57 am. They decorated the house with streamers while they waited for her to wake up. She joyfully ran through the ones hanging from the doorway...just as they were hoping. They'd been counting down the days to go to the local children's museum because we haven't been there since MaryAnn was a tiny baby. They wanted to show her the grocery carts and the babies...they know how much she loves babies. They thought it would make the perfect birthday present. It did:</div>
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Big Brothers and Daddy missed you on your birthday, MaryAnn. They
were off at a week-long scout camp. They were so sad to be away on your special
day, but felt comfort in calling you and singing to you from afar. Hearing
their voices calling just for you gave you so much energy you jumped up and
down the whole time they sang to you. We were all anxious for their return.<br />
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<MaryAnn had a gigantic 2-year-old hug for Daddy when the boys came home from their very successful camp. Then she spontaneously plugged her nose to confirm that her older sisters' warnings about the boys smelling when they returned was true. I gave Brent a big kiss and like an <a href="http://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/alma/19.5?lang=eng" target="_blank">ancient queen</a> I pleaded my case, "But as for myself, to me he doth not stink."> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><Diggy was thrilled that we'd decided to save MaryAnn's birthday-present-opening until they returned because then they could open presents together.></span></div>
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It's hard to believe Diggy is 11. He's my California baby. He's a
peacemaker. He's a nature and animal lover. He prefers to be barefoot. He picked cheesecake instead of cupcakes to celebrate his big day this year. His LEGO collection is growing...and growing... He adds such creative energy to our household. He adds such love and empathy to
the world everywhere he goes. I just can't imagine life without you either,
Diggy!! You inspire us with your goodness. (more examples of that <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2012/06/kirsti-turns-8-in-one-month.html" target="_blank">here</a>) <span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></div>
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Last year the word birthday had no meaning to MaryAnn and since last year Diggy has shared his birthday list with me during nearly every one of our one-on-one chats. This year MaryAnn repeated 'birthday' for the first time just the day before hers but still
had no concept of why it made the rest of us so bubbly. But after streamers and
singing and presents and learning to answer "Two" when we ask,
"How old are you?" she seems to have a clearer picture that birthdays
are a special time to celebrate that we LOVE having someone in our family!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Can't wait for one more celebration the end of this week... </div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-55891404925451845432013-06-26T06:45:00.002-07:002013-07-12T13:13:15.869-07:00The Bumbo Battle: How a Tantrum Enhanced my Day of Peace and RestIt was Sunday morning--the day of peace and rest I very much look forward to every week. No deep-cleaning, no school work, no shopping, no scheduled activities (besides worship services), and no technological entertainment to weigh us down or distract us from the pure clarity that awaits to fill us up and prepare us for a new week of busyness. If my mind is still enough to take it in, Sunday is the most refreshing and rewarding day of my week.<br />
<br />
I find that my extra hard prep on Saturdays is well-worth the likelihood of feeling that life-giving peace on Sundays.<br />
<br />
But some aspects of peace are out of my control.<br />
<br />
As I fumbled with cereal bowls and spoons a few Sunday mornings ago, 4-year-old Cienna and nearly 2-year-old MaryAnn dashed to the table and erupted into an explosive establishment of who deserved to be heir of the Bumbo throne that sat on one of our wooden chairs. High-pitched shrills filled the kitchen for more than a few seconds...I felt my prospects of peace rapidly slipping from my fingertips. I sensed my own alarm systems (ie blood pressure) alerting me that chaos was definitely destroying my Day of Rest.<br />
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Brent was long gone at early morning meetings before the troops awoke because he is one of the local leaders of our congregation. So...any craziness associated with getting myself and 6 kids "peacefully" out the door for 11 am church rests on my shoulders. After years of experience (and lots of high blood pressure incidences), I expect at least half of us to have a major tear-jerking "issue" before departure.</div>
<br />
Might as well get started right after we wake up, I guess.<br />
<br />
My stomach used to churn during tantrum moments with my children. I've tried all sorts of tricks, logic, and consequences recommended by oodles of parenting books out there. I cringe thinking about those years. Now I (almost) rejoice when a tantrum erupts...because I'm learning to use those crazy moments to wire <i>my</i> <i>brain</i> into becoming the person I believe God intends for me to be (with His help of course).<br />
<br />
Though far from perfect, my body jumps into action with a peacemaking process:<br />
<br />
Knowing that my young girls' natural defense systems had been highly activated in order to selfishly (but innocently) dominate each other in The Bumbo Battle, my biggest goal quickly became an attempt to absorb their immature energy that was clearly bouncing back and forth between them so I could use my adult-sized prefrontal cortex (PFC--the brain area responsible for compassion, empathy, and <i>emotional regulation</i>) to change their negative energy that my body had accurately detected into positive energy again. (yikes...that was a mouthful!)<br />
<br />
Although a few other parts of my brain offered me immediate tension-relieving solutions like slamming the cereal bowls down or out-yelling my kiddos or calmly announcing that they had just earned an extra chore or sending them back to bed until they could control their own behavior or crawling back into bed myself, I resisted the temptation to manage their negative behavior by grabbing a stick or throwing out a carrot...just so I could feel a little short-term control over the situation. While their screeches were truly ear-shattering and peace-destroying, I knew a 'time-out' for their wild and rude behavior was out of the question...it would only put the burden of changing from war to peace on their young shoulders before they have the brain capacity to do something other than strengthen their personal self-defensive walls with it.<br />
<br />
I should explain a little further...<br />
<br />
Let's pretend my child's immaturity (or full-blown tantrum in this case) is a ball of negative energy flying right at my face as I stand at one end of a ping pong table. My natural and normal instinct is to protect myself from it. However, a <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/present/defensive" target="_blank">defensive</a> or <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/present/offensive" target="_blank">offensive </a>or <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/present/absent" target="_blank">absent </a>response on my part doesn't eliminate any negative energy in the room (energy cannot be created or destroyed, only <i>transferred or changed)</i>. If I use a reactive response (including an isolating time-out), it may protect me from the negative energy for a moment, but it also deflects the negativeness that we are all trying to cope with back onto my child's side of the net for his/her underdeveloped brain to process again immediately (with more fear or anger or wildness, etc.) or hold onto as a not-so-pleasant-memory-that-will-some-day-need-to-be-unleashed-in-a-not-so-pleasant-way-in-the-future (using "stored" fear or anger or wildness, etc). What we really all need is for someone to grab that negative ball of energy and change it into something positive, which (I think) is the job of a mature PFC...and <i>then</i> hit it back.<br />
<br />
In other words, a child who is dealing with stress or immaturity (like a big-ol' tantrum) needs the <i>presence of a peaceful person</i> in whom complete trust resides standing at the other end of the table. Otherwise the negative behavioral energy stays negative...and someone will have to deal with it again. If I want true change to occur in my household, I've got to be the mature one that not only notices negative energy flying around, but is also willing to grab it and sit with it long enough to transform it into positive energy before releasing it back out into the room.<br />
<br />
Just thinking about this process makes me breathe a big sigh of relief.<br />
<br />
Now back to what happened next in The Bumbo Battle...<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSsHaAOL0SopKt_fwaXfbGIMr72fBOV7W2zei3Z_F2EWC8eZVv31Ob6JFzJLxTyvzraxINosM3F4dOwWKVnewFGYS47LNua4_zDwpFtk9BeuwgI4YOM4WyP_DSZrp9B9jbDTPD5JurSA/s1600/IMG_20130625_101835_422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSsHaAOL0SopKt_fwaXfbGIMr72fBOV7W2zei3Z_F2EWC8eZVv31Ob6JFzJLxTyvzraxINosM3F4dOwWKVnewFGYS47LNua4_zDwpFtk9BeuwgI4YOM4WyP_DSZrp9B9jbDTPD5JurSA/s1600/IMG_20130625_101835_422.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a><br />
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<photo taken a few days after the dust settled></div>
<br />
After about 30 seconds of attentive listening to their unsuccessful pleas for space in the Bumbo chair, I gently asked Cienna to give up her ground and move to the blue and yellow booster chair and let MaryAnn sit in the fluffy pink chair this time. Cienna did as I said, but feeling defeated, tears streamed down her face. Keeping the front of my brain as engaged as I could, I knelt down to Cienna so our eyes could meet. She angrily dashed her eyes away from mine as I said something like, "When two people want the same thing, we have to take turns. Thank you for helping Mommy do that. If MaryAnn hurt your feelings with her screaming, I'm really sorry. It's hard to work through these tough challenges. We'll keep trying."<br />
<br />
I offered a hand of comfort and Cienna refused it. I didn't 'react' to the frustration that she threw at me...instead I sat at her level for a moment longer and focused my mind on absorbing as much of her sadness as I could without judging her or her actions as bad or good. I felt grateful for the chance to stand as a symbol of peace and transformation. When her eyes finally met mine, I smiled softly and stood up to begin pouring cereal and milk into her bowl. I'd returned the energy she'd flung at me. I'd saved it just for her. Only now it would feel so different to her...much warmer and more peaceful. I sensed relief in her soul. She went on to eat her cereal.<br />
<br />
MaryAnn on the other hand is brand new to this whole transforming immature energy thing. As a nearly 2-year-old, she has enough brain development to recognize negative energy (self-centered intents like the Bumbo take-over threat coming from older sister)...rightfully despise it...and ruthlessly defend herself from it (usually in the form of a counter-attack or a major meltdown). This is an important part of child development and I applaud her for making progress in life. But I also look forward to the day when she will be able to couple this key emotional awareness with the prefrontal cortex wisdom of choosing how to respond to it peacefully. For now it looks pretty ugly.<br />
<br />
Even though she was triumphant, MaryAnn's body was feeling so out-of balance from her battle with Cienna that she still screamed at the top of her lung's capacity...a natural attempt to re-establish a more tolerable chemical balance. When I turned my attention to her, she screamed louder and flailed her arms and legs (which is kind of hard to do in a Bumbo chair, but she managed). I'm glad she felt safe showing her mother just how mad she was. With her back arched and her feet kicking, her eyes searched my body language for answers about what to do with all these wild and scary emotions.<br />
<br />
I showed her what to do by being at peace. I felt my soul open up and reach for her struggles and hold them close to me until we could examine them together in the future...at a much later time when her brain was calm again and ready to comprehend more.<br />
<br />
Because she was in the mood to reject my comforting gaze and hands, I respected her wishes and let her wiggle and scream while I bustled around the kitchen. Though I was attending to other children, I kept the experience MaryAnn was having at the forefront of my awareness and continued to soak in her anxiety as she exerted it out into the room. I accepted her unruly behavior as part of who she is right now in life and simultaneously envisioned the mature woman she'll become when her body (and especially her brain) is more complete. My eyes glanced lovingly in her direction many times and I watched for an opportunity to re-connect with her, but that didn't happen before I heard cries for help in the bathroom upstairs--Allison needed the temperature adjusted on the water that was spurting from the tub faucet. Her shrieks showed me that some of MaryAnn's chaos had likely wafted upstairs for Allison to absorb as well.<br />
<br />
That's okay. We'll eventually get it all processed.<br />
<br />
I motioned for MaryAnn to join me in my jaunt upstairs, because I wanted to show her that I was still very much in tune to her needs. But as I neared her, she increased the volume and intensity of her fit. Most likely assuming I was coming to de-throne her, she clung to the Bumbo chair like her life depended on it, tears streaming down her face. Such confusion she must have felt.<br />
<br />
Again (knowing I'd return very quickly), I respected her status as queen of the Bumbo chair and I let her flail in it for a few more moments while I ducked upstairs to settle my 6-year-old. "I'll be back very soon," I gently told her.<br />
<br />
When I returned to the kitchen a couple of minutes later, MaryAnn was still going strong with her rageful fit.<br />
Only now she had a bigger audience. Diggy and Kirsti (Kenny was still asleep) sat at the table observing her scene and feeling rather helpless.<br />
<br />
"What's wrong with her?" they asked sympathetically. "Why does she keep screaming like that? What should we do? How can you stand it?"<br />
<br />
This wasn't the first major tantrum MaryAnn's older sibs had witnessed...but still. They felt accurately alarmed by her tame-less screams. Her high-pitched screeches and twisting body movements threatened their inner peace. I could read my children's minds. I used to feel vulnerable to toddler tantrums, too. (Sometimes I still do.) I remember feeling helpless...and mad...and then helpless again...when my kids were out of control. I remember attempting to stop the madness by plucking them up from their tantrum spot and planting them down in a corner or on a chair or in their bedroom until they "learned to control themselves". I even had the non-emotional 'your-tantrum-doesn't-phase-me' face down. By the time Allison came around, we made her sit in the basement...by herself...until she stopped screaming so she wouldn't disturb the whole household. (oh if I could turn back the clock!)<br />
<br />
I'll never forget the looks on our older children's faces when they witnessed Mom and Dad isolating an out-of-control child and then pretending nothing was wrong while she wailed away in despair. I saw their trust in us melting away. I saw fear or coldness or both enter their systems.<br />
<br />
So before Allison's brain could develop any further (she was about 24 months old), I changed. I'm a different parent now. I'm learning, by the grace of God, how to give peace during turbulent tantrum times. And I'm discovering that God grants me His peace as I do so. We are all so (with a google o's) much happier!!<br />
<br />
But now how could I explain this peacemaking process to my older children, so they, too, could rest their minds and hearts on this Sabbath day?<br />
<br />
A thought came racing in:<br />
<br />
"Do you remember when MaryAnn was a tiny baby? She did lots of sleeping and even when she was awake she hardly noticed when life around her got complicated? Well, now she's older and more mature. Her brain has more connections now, but she's not completely grown up yet. She's old enough to recognize emotional stress, like a sibling rivalry over a pink chair, and the chaos often engulfs her in darkness kind of like the sun going down at night. She feels lost and confused. She doesn't have enough brains to process the darkness peacefully yet so she seeks for ways to cope temporarily by screaming and fighting. She's in darkness, but she is not the darkness. Do you see the difference?"<br />
<br />
They got it.<br />
<br />
"If I saw her flailing around and thought her light had gone out forever, how would I likely respond?" I continued.<br />
<br />
"You'd be scared. Or mad. Or worried."<br />
<br />
"You're right. Is that how you feel?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah."<br />
<br />
"Sometimes I feel that way, too. It's pretty normal. And sometimes those feelings make me react in a self-centered way so I can settle those unpleasant emotions pretty quickly. But I don't feel scared or mad or worried now because I know MaryAnn is not the darkness that she's feeling temporarily. So, if I know for certain that her lovely sunshine will brighten the world again soon, just like I know the sun will come up every morning, how am I likely to respond to her?"<br />
<br />
"You wouldn't be scared. Or mad. Or worried. You would be okay."<br />
<br />
"Right again. That's how I feel now. I feel very comfortable and confident that MaryAnn's sun will come up again. I also know that I can help lead her back to that brighter place. Young minds are very willing to follow. So, how can I help her find sunshine again?"<br />
<br />
"You could hold her hand and give her a flashlight while it's dark." They smiled at the thought.<br />
<br />
"Exactly. At this age, MaryAnn knows to search for light because she can tell darkness is a yucky place to be. But if I leave her to cope with the darkness all on her own, I would feel a little nervous. She may wander towards a light, but perhaps not the brightest and warmest sunshine that she deserves. And she may gather extreme cloudiness along the way which would make it hard to tell when she's standing in daylight again. Instead of expecting her to handle this on her own, I feel very aware of MaryAnn's sadness and confusion right now, so she's not alone. I'm not ignoring her. I'm happy to lend her my light and gently lead her toward True Sunshine again. I think she can feel my light radiating towards her right this minute because I'm in her presence and even though she's still screaming, she can tell that I'm aware of her in a warm kind of way. As she grows, her mind will mature and be able to handle darkness a little more independently. After many years, she'll not only recognize Perfect Light, but because of all our practicing <i>together</i>, she'll know how to get up and move towards it even if I'm not there."<br />
<br />
By the time my explanation was over, MaryAnn was listening to my voice tell her siblings that "I love MaryAnn. I know I can help her through her dark times by being a glimmer of light for her to follow," and she was quiet.<br />
<br />
It was time to roll out some bread dough. Having soaked in the majority of MaryAnn's out-of-control emotions and having kept them close to my heart as they transformed into peace, I sensed it was time to share them again with her.<br />
<br />
Bending down at her level, I asked, "MaryAnn, do you want to help Mommy spread flour all over the counter so we can make bread?"<br />
<br />
She sheepishly leaned in my direction, testing her trust in me. I scooped her up in my arms and hugged her tenderly, letting the love flow between us, before setting her down on a chair so her eyes could tower over the beveled edge of our dark grey Corian. <br />
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<It was such a lovely moment, I actually asked one of my older kids to snap a picture.></div>
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Working alongside a present-minded mother did wonders for MaryAnn's emotional balance. Sharing the peace that God has granted me--especially during so many of my tantrum moments--with my sweet daughter in<i> her</i> time of need did wonders for stretching my patience far enough to reach a greater capacity to understand, respect, love, endure, and rest. It felt like climbing a mountain...and making it to the top.<br />
<br />
As the morning continued, I could tell MaryAnn's body was still trying to process the residue stress hormone leftover in her brain from The Bumbo Battle. She remained on high alert as simple stress tilted her emotional scale a few more times. I had to stay focused on being steady and strong and patient for her sake as we descended the other side of the mountain. But an hour or so later when I showed her a purple dress she hadn't worn in a long time, she smiled with all the delight of a rainbow coloring the sky as the storm departs.<br />
<br />
I basked in the sunshine with MaryAnn and paused to take in the moment's triumphant beauty. I could not have led my daughter to light without having first received light from the Source of all Light myself. Because of the challenges that face my two-year-old as her brain develops, I have a greater opportunity to commune with Deity. What a blessing! Especially on a Sabbath morning.<br />
<br />
I sent a prayer of gratitude heavenward.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUQuGug9vgsHxpcjlYm0ZBzkewatny0KH4piXQzUJSx2e7trSP_75mC3X1etNsoiM2U8onwSS4tnHM9YjItIuRTDVs5DFqxGUmlBZCfPjG3zQPDw2U33iThIZHiWthMV4SpESGiWeoqI/s1600/IMG_20130623_102942_589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUQuGug9vgsHxpcjlYm0ZBzkewatny0KH4piXQzUJSx2e7trSP_75mC3X1etNsoiM2U8onwSS4tnHM9YjItIuRTDVs5DFqxGUmlBZCfPjG3zQPDw2U33iThIZHiWthMV4SpESGiWeoqI/s1600/IMG_20130623_102942_589.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a><br />
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<b>Epilogue:</b> Just moments before the final mad dash out the door, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror for my usual 2-minute make-up application. All four of my girls surrounded me as they fumbled with makeshift eye shadow brushes and lip gloss sticks. When Kirsten noticed me smearing yellow goop on the dark circles under my eyes, she paused from powdering her face and inquired, "Why do you put on make-up anyways?"<br />
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Without the added strength and wisdom I had gained from the yoga-like concentration I'd needed during MaryAnn's tantrum earlier that morning, I'm sure I would have flippantly rambled about blemishes and whale blubber and good impressions.<br />
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But because my mind had stretched into a greater place of awareness and peace, I paused long enough to remember that my responses to my children's questions have monumental impact on how they view life...and on how they feel about themselves. I felt my heart and mind fill up with a wisdom greater than my own before I casually relayed the response, "I like the way my make-up highlights the natural beauty God gave me."<br />
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I moved on to my eye-liner, but kept my glance on Kirsten as she carefully examined her own reflection and smiled with a joy that melted my heart. Her younger sisters had paused to watch her, too. Having been enlightened, they went back to rummaging through their make-up bags.<br />
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And we eventually arrived at church happily ever after that Sunday morning. Luckily "The Bumbo Battle" went down in the history books just in time for the commencement of "The Bench Battle: 6 Kids on a Pew while Daddy Conducts the 70-minute Meeting." All sorts of peace and rest just waiting to come my way again...<br />
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-36313925191657760912013-06-21T21:02:00.001-07:002013-06-21T21:02:41.952-07:00Her EricaThis post is dedicated to my long-time BFF, Erica Ruth. Today is her birthday.<br />
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Brent and I moved to Illinois with our kids six years ago. My daughter, Kirsten, turned 3 just after our arrival. She met 3-year-old Jennifer at church on our first Sunday. To make a long story short, their friendship has blossomed.<br />
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<Jennifer and Kirsti in Jennifer's back yard.></div>
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Sometimes Kirsti and Jennifer get so excited to tell each other stuff that they disrupt their church class.<br />
Sometimes Kirsti <i>has</i> to borrow my cell phone because she simply can't wait until Sunday "to tell Jennifer _____."<br />
Sometimes I find Kirsti busy crafting something (like a paper doll, or a card, or a doll's quilt) that must be delivered to Jennifer immediately.<br />
Sometimes Kirsti and Jennifer dream about having a slumber party and sometimes they talk and plot and plan about it soooo much that their mothers sigh and finally decide on a convenient date.<br />
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Sometimes I just look at Kirsti and Jennifer and relive my childhood...because I had a Jennifer.<br />
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Her name is Erica.<br />
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As an only girl amidst three brothers, I always longed for a sister. Though I absolutely loved my tomboy time digging for salamanders, collecting toads, creating forts, climbing in creeks, playing baseball in the back yard, and cheering for sports teams with my brothers...I always missed having a sister.<br />
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Thankfully, I have been blessed with many other "sisters" along life's path.<br />
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Erica is one of my all-time favorites.<br />
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Erica and I first met when we were both 5 years old. Her family had moved a mile from our house and I accompanied my mom in taking dinner over to welcome them to our church congregation. Erica's mom gave us a tour of their new house and when it was time to view the attic, Erica warned me not to touch the insulation because it would make me itchy. Her thoughtful desire to protect me from the dangers of her new domain stimulated an eternal connection between us. (But it often feels like we were kindred spirits long before the attic incident.)<br />
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<On the day Erica's family moved to Utah after we'd graduated from high school, she and I posed by the infamous insulation in her attic.></div>
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As the years rolled on during those growing up years and the phone rang during dinner (back before texts could buzz less conspicuously) my entire family would chime, "It must be Erica." I would giggle and jump up from the table to answer. 99% of the time they were right. "I'll call you back right after we finish eating," I'd say with a smile. Then we'd giggle back and forth for a few more minutes while my food grew cold.<br />
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Besides church, Erica and I went to the same school(s). We both remember having Ms. Esser in first grade and I'm sure she remembers the time when I-think-his-name-was-Matthew had stored ice cream in his lunch box after lunch and the melted mess was discovered just as the take-home buses were being loaded at the end of the day. I can't remember if Erica was on the paper towel committee with me during that classroom crises, but she probably was. Erica has always been a very hands-on helpful kind of gal.<br />
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A few years later, we both started band together. Erica played the clarinet and I played percussion...all the way through high school. During both our junior and senior years we were each named Illinois All-State musicians, which meant memorable trips to Peoria, IL in the middle of winter. One of those years our nose-hairs froze (for real) in sub-zero temps every time we walked outside from our hotel to the performance hall. Good times.<br />
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During our high school years, we attended an early-morning scripture study class at our church every day from 6:00-6:45 (except when I came late) and then we'd walk over to our high school across the street together and wait for our first classes to begin. Our lockers were both by the band room and therefore right across the hall from each other, which simplified our desire to share hourly news updates with one another. Erica was the one who decorated my locker when my varsity basketball team had to face the #1 girls' high school basketball team in the country who also happened to be in our conference...even though she knew I probably wouldn't play very much in <i>that </i>game.<br />
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I recently reminisced through old photographs and sure enough, Erica is in most of them...band pictures, jazz band pictures, marching band pictures, church pictures, seminary pictures, Girls' Camp pictures...the trip to Tennessee, the trip to Toronto, the trip to Boundary Waters, the trip to Yellowstone...<br />
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One day, while Erica and I were roomies at a band camp at U of I during our middle school years, 911 was summoned to our rescue. My dear friend had left her curling on high while it was sitting on her bed. Then she had tossed her pillow on top and left the room to go to a concert. Luckily, she was absent-minded enough that she'd forgotten her umbrella and upon returning to our smoke-filled room, she wisely alerted a staff member. When the smoke cleared and the fire trucks departed, we packed our bags and moved to a room that didn't have yellow caution tape across the doorway. I tried hard to convince Erica that her mom and dad wouldn't be <i>too</i> upset..and that some day we'd look back and laugh.<br />
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<ancient evidence of the curling iron incident...after we stopped crying and started smiling about it></div>
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A few years later when we were tent mates at Girls' Camp, we anxiously awoke one day to participate in the beauty and peacefulness of a canoe ride at sunrise. Only the older girls who'd been canoeing dozens of times were invited on this serene excursion due to limited space. Erica and I rose a bit late, so we ran down to the dock. Along the way, I tripped and fell on a (big!) rock. My knee was badly gauged (I still have a scar). The deepness of the wound made my stomach feel uneasy. We decided to go out on the water anyways. But all I could think about was my painful, bloody knee and after rocking in a boat for just a few minutes, I said, "Erica, I think we better go back." Erica stood by my side while I puked in the grass and then walked me to the nurse without at all complaining that I'd ruined her peaceful morning with Mother Nature.<br />
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A couple of year later, Erica was again my canoe partner when we traversed miles and miles of Boundary Waters in Northern Minnesota. We quickly realized that I should sit in back and she in front...we trusted my directional skills and her constant strength. On the last day of the trip, we paddled through a sudden, major rain storm (way before smart phones--or even cell phones) while in the middle of one of the largest lakes up there. White caps splashed over the side of our boat and wind pushed against our every stroke. We both felt weary but had no choice but to continue. At one point, above the sound of thunder and pounding rain, I heard an angel singing "I am a Child of God"...it was Erica. My voice tried to join hers, but her timely reminder that God is bigger than any of life's storms choked my throat as tears from my eyes joined the raindrops that were falling on my face. I began to pray with renewed faith in my heart and I felt a new energy surging through my paddle. I distinctly remember thanking God for Erica that day. It took us more than two hours to journey about 1 mile, but we made it safely to shore just as the storm calmed.<br />
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<We think no-bake cheesecakes should be part of every camping trip...as well as self-timed pictures of campers eating no-bake cheesecake.></div>
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So many of my growing up memories involved Erica.<br />
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Erica joined Brownies in first grade because I was already in. (We both quit a few months later.)<br />
Erica threw me the only surprise birthday party I've ever had. She also co-hosted my bridal shower.<br />
Most of my TPing experiences included Erica as an accomplice.<br />
I tagged along when Erica decided someone needed to be heart-attacked or ding-dong ditched with a plate of cookies.<br />
We took prom pictures near her house.<br />
And Erica patiently endured the hardships of being a third wheel when I decided to like a boy in high school. I don't think I'll ever stop owing her for that.<br />
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<We're smiling so big here because we were just about to meet (or just had--I don't remember which) Donny Osmond back stage <i>in his dressing room</i> after watching <i>Joseph </i>in downtown Chicago. And my aunt had just bought us each one of the biggest desserts we'd ever seen.></div>
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When I searched through my box of high school memories, I found a letter that looked like it was from Erica (because back then we used a pen and paper to share thoughts). Erica and I passed a gazillion notes back and forth to one another. But this particular letter was from Tiffany, Erica's older sister that I always admired. When I saw Erica and Tiffany interact, I always wished I could have an older sister or be an older sister to a fellow female. And even though Erica and I regularly annoyed Tiffany and her friends when we had joint sleep-overs, Tiffany still took the time to write me a lovely big sister kind of letter when she was headed off to college. That's how close Erica and I were. I was like family. <br />
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And then Erica and I went to Brigham Young University together. Because we were pretty much sisters by then and had helped each other mature so marvelously (*winkwink*), we had the wisdom and foresight to live near each other but not in the same apartment...since sisters don't always get along and we honestly might have never met another soul if we had had the perfect friend right at our fingertips already.<br />
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<Erica and I are on either side of the flag.></div>
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Erica watched me fall in love for good and get married to my lovely sweetheart during our sophomore year of college and she gracefully accepted that our lives would take different paths. We both graduated from BYU a couple of years later...Erica single and ready to go out into the world of work and grad school...and me married with with my first baby in my arms excited to embark in full-time motherhood.<br />
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<at my wedding with Kirsten and Erica></div>
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<i>photograph by Hart Photography</i></div>
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When Brent and I lived in MN (where Erica was born) I was pregnant with my first daughter, Kirsten. Her due date was June 28. I thought for sure she would come a week early so she could share a birth date <i>and </i>a birthplace with Erica. It took some emotional regrouping to come to terms that Kirsti's week-late arrival on July 5th was still acceptable in place of my grand and meaningful planning.<br />
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When Erica and her husband were sealed in the Temple, Brent and I packed up our four kids and drove.<br />
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Erica lives in Texas now and I live in Illinois. Whenever we talk on the phone, we agree on why the Lord didn't settle us as neighbors in the same state after marrying twin brothers like we always dreamed of...we would giggle way too much, stay up way too late, and be way too absorbed in our own world of friendship that our children would go way too unattended and the people around us would stare with confusion watching grown women carry on like pre-teens.<br />
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We each have our own missions to accomplish in separate places now.<br />
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But back then was different...back then, the Lord placed us together all those years ago because we needed each other. We each needed a friend who shared the same faith, someone who could remind the other about which path to walk on even if it seemed hard. We each needed a friend who could finish the other's sentences, someone who cared about both the trivial things in life and the grand life-changing events. We each needed someone who would look past personality flaws and love completely, someone who personally sacrifices to be a good friend.<br />
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God knew I needed a sister, so He gave me Erica.<br />
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About a year ago, Erica and I shared a rare phone conversation. We picked up where we'd left off and in the midst of our conversation Erica's words answered a prayer I'd been uttering for several weeks. Once you have a friend like Erica, your life is forever changed and she will always inspire you to reach your potential. God speaks through best friends like Erica.<br />
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Now that I know about brains a bit, I'm even more grateful that I had someone who accepted me and loved me through my strengths and my weaknesses during such a critical time in my life. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you, wonder what you're up to, and feel grateful for how you've influenced my life for good, Erica. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! You will always be "The Wind Beneath My Wings."<br />
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Sometimes I look at Kirsti and Jennifer and just know that whatever life brings and wherever they end up, they will always cherish the bonds that they are sharing and building today.<br />
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So when Kirsti packed her suitcase (not a pillow case or backpack or duffle bag, but a SUITCASE!) full of treasures to bring along on her first sleep over at Jennifer's house a week ago, you can see why I glowed all over...My daughter has found her Erica. A treasure too precious to express with any more words.<br />
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I bet Kirsti and Jennifer enjoyed brushing their teeth together last week. It's something Erica and I always loved doing.</div>
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Happy Birthday, Dear Friend!!Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-35468268913626243472013-06-02T07:34:00.000-07:002020-03-18T07:21:04.885-07:00A Week's Worth of Wonder: June 2, 2013The "school year" is wrapping up around here. Public school is down to the last few days of mostly fun and celebration and Diggy and Kirsti finished most of their year-long math and grammar goals before Memorial Day. So this last week was the beginning of their summer break in many ways. While learning feels a little less structured and we're no longer cramming in short lessons and concerts and practices of all kinds on a daily basis (which gives us more time to just breathe...ahhh), education and adventures still continue just the same:<br />
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<i> <An excellent use for the beautiful Japanese hand towels we now have, yes?></i><br />
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<i> <Pet-sitting a guinea pig, hatching butterflies, and catching rolly-pollies fulfills all my inner desire for sharing my home with a creature. I wonder why my kids don't seem to feel the same way. They still keep asking for a dog.> </i></div>
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<i> <The above picture is the beginnings of the 'log cabin' Diggy's been dreaming about for awhile now.></i><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"><i><Back yard adventures (both the work kind and the play kind) are my favorite summer pastimes.></i></span><br />
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<i> <I married a brave man. I learned to cut hair using his head shortly after we were married. Now, Kirsti's had her first "lesson".></i><br />
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<i> <Look at her go...Training wheels off one day...</i></div>
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<i>and the next day...TADA! Allison holds the record in our family for speediness in learning to ride a bike...and without a single tear (that's never happened before). I'm speechless.> </i><br />
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<i> <span style="text-align: center;"> <"Sometimes I have a battle within my brain...I desperately want to join in...and I desperately don't want to join in." --MaryAnn> </span></i></div>
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<i><After reading a chapter in Little House in the Big Woods, Mary insisted that she and Laura gather fruit and honey and jam to store for the winter. Thank goodness the girls are all over that cause Ma is busy.></i></div>
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<i><After 6 years of elementary school, Diggy sang his heart out (including a solo) in the 5th grade music show. Below he's blurry because he's busy 'working in the coal mine.' I think I've said it a thousand times, but Mrs. O does such an awesome job with all those kids. Her work with them is so inspiring! Diggy's really going to miss her next year in middle school. And see all those sparkly bow ties up above? My amazing mother made them. I feel pretty lucky to be surrounded and supported by so many fabulous people as Brent and I raise our kids. Congrats, Diggy, on finishing another milestone!></i></div>
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-67745988072566236652013-05-26T05:02:00.000-07:002020-03-17T17:27:23.407-07:00Barrier-Breakers: Transcending Spoken Language A few weeks ago when we announced the upcoming cultural opportunity of hosting four 14-year-old Japanese boys in our home, our children couldn't hide their nervousness about having foreigners in our midst...<br />
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"Will they sleep in <i>my </i>bed?...What if we can't understand them? What if they take my toys?..What if they mess up my Legos?...What if they don't know how to flush the toilet?"<br />
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I admit that I had a few worries of my own..."What if they don't like our food?...What if one of them gets sick?...Do Japanese teenagers dare each other to sneak out late at night?...What if they don't speak much English?"<br />
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Now that they have come and gone, I can proudly share that our heart-warming memories far outweighed our worries. In fact, the only legit worry was that they indeed spoke very little English and could understand just a few of our words.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0cEEsNJtAHuGzS_luXXTxlgHZVfyvFaAy6FwRSpdtdtttizpaXUi-mI3Rl4eoDJdpVVGni7BBQz5hyphenhyphenG91x8jmcUbVCZlvyuOTXenXitP_suX-c4j2ZCHghD1QG5GO-zxjFy653gb-TQ/s1600/IMG_20130519_195614_429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0cEEsNJtAHuGzS_luXXTxlgHZVfyvFaAy6FwRSpdtdtttizpaXUi-mI3Rl4eoDJdpVVGni7BBQz5hyphenhyphenG91x8jmcUbVCZlvyuOTXenXitP_suX-c4j2ZCHghD1QG5GO-zxjFy653gb-TQ/s400/IMG_20130519_195614_429.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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So, I got to thinking...Language neurons are only a small section of our brains, but boy did we discover their significance when Nozomi, Takahito, Raigo, and Shinya were here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UO3hjDA0v2Rt0XJqC03owaW8bMQTWxkOrDcncObTub-GS9JcR93YxLCzV7lVByk7E7XD1cd_agoqVjfJpR5IH7CX432FpBBZVzNif8xsbMcqUXa2TBJee_Let02pvyshYHI8gAJFIHA/s1600/language+area+of+brain.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UO3hjDA0v2Rt0XJqC03owaW8bMQTWxkOrDcncObTub-GS9JcR93YxLCzV7lVByk7E7XD1cd_agoqVjfJpR5IH7CX432FpBBZVzNif8xsbMcqUXa2TBJee_Let02pvyshYHI8gAJFIHA/s400/language+area+of+brain.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">image from: <a href="http://neurolove.tumblr.com/post/37133855003/language-areas-of-the-brain-the-main-areas-of-the">http://neurolove.tumblr.com/post/37133855003/language-areas-of-the-brain-the-main-areas-of-the</a></span></div>
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When people grow up in different parts of the world, or maybe just down the street, their brain cells that are responsible for speech align to learn whatever language is spoken in their individual household. As the years roll on, the mouth not only learns how to form sounds specific to certain languages (or not) but also figures out when to use them to communicate needs and wants and observations and feelings. Unused neurons are eventually pruned away to make room for stronger and more efficient communication connections with the neurons that are in highest demand.<br />
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I learned this last week that most of my Japanese-speaking neurons are long gone. The Japanese language uses sounds that our English-speaking mouths could only produce if we were clearing our throats or yawning. We also learned that "Smith" is probably a little less common of a last name over Japan...the 'sm' and 'th' sounds seemed unpronounceable by born and raised Japanese tongues. Our visitors felt way more comfortable calling me 'Amy.'<br />
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Does any one else get goose bumps when contemplating the parenting significance of this neuro-scientific phenomenon?<br />
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Anyways...We realized pretty quickly that even though we wondered what their families were like and what they wanted to be when they grew up, carrying on a conversation much beyond 'hello,' 'good-night,' and 'thank you' was out of the question.<br />
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On a few occasions, I needed to find out some important information like, "Do you want to eat pizza for dinner?"<br />
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Their eyes would narrow as they paid such close attention to the movement of my lips. After a few minutes of exchanging Japanese words amongst themselves, clearly trying to decode and jointly agree upon what I was saying, I resorted to pulling a picture of a pizza up on the computer and started miming what we normally do with it.<br />
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And thank goodness for the Internet...we discovered that <i>our</i> favorite Friday night meal (pizza) was not their idea of a yummy dinner at all. I then wisely used Google Translate to ask them what they wanted for dinner instead of pizza.<br />
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After several more minutes of contemplating the correct American word...Nozomi, the elected spokesman, slowly and bravely uttered, "Hom-bur-ger."<br />
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"Oh, hamburger!" I repeated.<br />
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"Yes!" they all said together. Our eyes shared a mutual excitement and we exchanged a round of high-fives...not because we were thrilled to eat hamburgers for dinner, but because we had successfully skirted around our stubborn native language neurons that threatened to keep us from understanding each other. (When the excitement died down, I Googled 'image of hamburger' just to confirm that we were truly all on the same page. phew)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3fDCqAfYH8_fEtE1Kly2BUk8H5US3tNGA2H4ErVRO1F5pvoo-sWumdJR3zH9MpXMEZrhlVg5Ujl8ILoaWerSpnHo3GF-VD9bwcKN3L5v_yVhhv36iVJjHE0rWazE4U6v27jcBJVOT-M/s1600/IMG_20130516_201942_433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3fDCqAfYH8_fEtE1Kly2BUk8H5US3tNGA2H4ErVRO1F5pvoo-sWumdJR3zH9MpXMEZrhlVg5Ujl8ILoaWerSpnHo3GF-VD9bwcKN3L5v_yVhhv36iVJjHE0rWazE4U6v27jcBJVOT-M/s400/IMG_20130516_201942_433.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<Google Translate became our go to app for the weekend. But even then, we got some pretty confused looks sometimes. I wonder what we told them on a few occasions...></div>
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Despite the huge language barrier that sat like an elephant in the room for four days, we creative humans used the <i>rest</i> of our brains to find alternative ways of socializing and sharing and caring.<br />
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And whenever we discovered a barrier-breaker--something that transcended spoken language to connect us with our new Japanese friends heart to heart--a lovely, very tangible feeling floated through the air and bonded us together.<br />
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For example:<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Music</span></b><br />
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We have a house full of instruments. After lugging their suit cases up to their respective rooms and after the energy level associated with the initial exploration of our American domain returned to normal, we sat down together in the living room. Since we couldn't shoot the breeze, a spontaneous concert erupted.<br />
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Piano, violin, trumpet, steel drum...lots of smiles and cheers and pictures commenced.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZrSTdSXV0RBqfMGlR_sTpkTNqYC3SdE_GPtRvPGV8K_PJjDZ63-EaOP2zY83ClZfSM7hWzhHB80pqSKE4ZxocoisGbaFyaM7nCQr7Eb2Wv7FcbxZ0q7vwjyVIKfdQ34QywkeYL6-DoKX/s1600/IMG_20130516_212030_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZrSTdSXV0RBqfMGlR_sTpkTNqYC3SdE_GPtRvPGV8K_PJjDZ63-EaOP2zY83ClZfSM7hWzhHB80pqSKE4ZxocoisGbaFyaM7nCQr7Eb2Wv7FcbxZ0q7vwjyVIKfdQ34QywkeYL6-DoKX/s400/IMG_20130516_212030_969.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6uJJTfB8y5WKUX1gtKSWRjC9ly_TCr3gDlut3GoAM9e3nMfn8A4yQxIw_dAkItrAIBLiI6jw15Qo5zPk-qTl792fpSGLg-HZiPewI9tB2tRwfQpuQdL9CG9dkaJPzT5pKmo-n9JOJdDX/s1600/IMG_20130516_212304_597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6uJJTfB8y5WKUX1gtKSWRjC9ly_TCr3gDlut3GoAM9e3nMfn8A4yQxIw_dAkItrAIBLiI6jw15Qo5zPk-qTl792fpSGLg-HZiPewI9tB2tRwfQpuQdL9CG9dkaJPzT5pKmo-n9JOJdDX/s400/IMG_20130516_212304_597.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNu8tro1D0YkNlEkH9-RLovIF4adP359bVggX2dyqNfZMziamT_3uN5AFJd16tfSAqYz96fjOeLwf2LkswhncOzMjFQZNUyWXL4gPBBPi309tljlkMiy23iavKnoeEQAP3io2CFFQzfg/s1600/IMG_20130516_212610_475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNu8tro1D0YkNlEkH9-RLovIF4adP359bVggX2dyqNfZMziamT_3uN5AFJd16tfSAqYz96fjOeLwf2LkswhncOzMjFQZNUyWXL4gPBBPi309tljlkMiy23iavKnoeEQAP3io2CFFQzfg/s400/IMG_20130516_212610_475.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZrSTdSXV0RBqfMGlR_sTpkTNqYC3SdE_GPtRvPGV8K_PJjDZ63-EaOP2zY83ClZfSM7hWzhHB80pqSKE4ZxocoisGbaFyaM7nCQr7Eb2Wv7FcbxZ0q7vwjyVIKfdQ34QywkeYL6-DoKX/s1600/IMG_20130516_212030_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZrSTdSXV0RBqfMGlR_sTpkTNqYC3SdE_GPtRvPGV8K_PJjDZ63-EaOP2zY83ClZfSM7hWzhHB80pqSKE4ZxocoisGbaFyaM7nCQr7Eb2Wv7FcbxZ0q7vwjyVIKfdQ34QywkeYL6-DoKX/s1600/IMG_20130516_212030_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZrSTdSXV0RBqfMGlR_sTpkTNqYC3SdE_GPtRvPGV8K_PJjDZ63-EaOP2zY83ClZfSM7hWzhHB80pqSKE4ZxocoisGbaFyaM7nCQr7Eb2Wv7FcbxZ0q7vwjyVIKfdQ34QywkeYL6-DoKX/s1600/IMG_20130516_212030_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZrSTdSXV0RBqfMGlR_sTpkTNqYC3SdE_GPtRvPGV8K_PJjDZ63-EaOP2zY83ClZfSM7hWzhHB80pqSKE4ZxocoisGbaFyaM7nCQr7Eb2Wv7FcbxZ0q7vwjyVIKfdQ34QywkeYL6-DoKX/s1600/IMG_20130516_212030_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
And when we heard their whole group sing in their native language at the farewell party, their voices rang loud and clear and contained more confidence than I'd heard at any other time during their entire trip. I was moved to tears. I'll never forget how universal the language of music is.<br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">Sports and Games</b><br />
<br />
Movement. Competition. Motor skills. Teamwork. Strategy.<br />
<br />
These are global concepts as well. And in most cases, they don't require very many spoken words.<br />
<br />
As 6'+ Trey entered our church gymnasium for a scrimmage game on Saturday morning to help us fulfill our students' wish of playing basketball in America, only ooohs and ahhhs and bulging eyes and dropped chins were needed to communicate. When he did a dunking demonstration, students from several host families lined up at center court to permanently capture the amazement. We think they thought Trey is related to Michael Jordan <span style="font-size: xx-small;">(but he's not)</span>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<Wii fits in the sports category, don't ya think?> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpDpnkf4eEbsIE_SapsiArJBlszYdH6nfbKZAUFZaGCo_JOMNZ9W09e8ED9apkLYsEBV39GKKJmKzE47GYtTjWsfA6fm4KQZb3k906drMmqb6D_ZZVObZEsRTOZPBRdFgRVmyMQnn1mU/s1600/IMG_20130518_125035_718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpDpnkf4eEbsIE_SapsiArJBlszYdH6nfbKZAUFZaGCo_JOMNZ9W09e8ED9apkLYsEBV39GKKJmKzE47GYtTjWsfA6fm4KQZb3k906drMmqb6D_ZZVObZEsRTOZPBRdFgRVmyMQnn1mU/s640/IMG_20130518_125035_718.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<The Boys brought several Japanese games that entertained all ages. It was amazing to see that so many games (both American and Japanese) could be explained and played using so few words.></div>
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">Fire</b></div>
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Fire and humans have co-existed in this world for a looooong time. </div>
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So it was no wonder that a few backyard flames produced grunts of joy and lots of smiles.</div>
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Adding smores offered a very educational and tasty American touch.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Cameras</b></span><br />
<br />
Instead of talking, we took lots of pictures...hundreds of pictures. Their cameras communicated to me what they wanted to remember about America...Trey dunking, the mall elevator, fireworks, street signs, glow lights, quesadillas, the trampoline, and our children singing and laughing and flashing the peace sign...very insightful. (Our children started putting up two fingers in pictures because they noticed that our Japanese friends did that for every picture...Is 'two-fingers' a universal peace sign? Or does it mean something else in Japan? Or is it just a teenage fad? Does anyone know?)<br />
<br />
When cameras flashed and fluttered, so did our hearts. We somehow knew we were all thinking the same lovely thoughts...Life is awesome. We knew the good times were rollin'. We knew we were experiencing bonding moments that would now be recorded forever.<br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">Children</b><br />
<br />
We had it easy at our host house. We have lots of little people to bridge the gap between communication awkwardness and interactive bliss.<br />
<br />
None of our four visitors have a sibling younger than age 11. So, not only were our children worthy of hundreds of pictures because of their blonde hair, but also because they acted like children...a very unique experience for those who don't see it often.<br />
<br />
Our Japanese visitors were eager and kind in interacting with each of our kids. (We feel so grateful for that!!) And all of the Smith kids (even MaryAnn by the end...which would surprise those who know her well) jumped right in with enthusiasm and thoughtfulness to naturally blend cultures. Watching them all interact together, you'd never know that they had expressed any nervousness beforehand.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXjIaKx0az0tk1GgAMxVW9rCHr6sWDp13Sy3vHiO4TmTLSytBJ-hgjDhF5f0wu8o_sgrqigdyXLzl6CE5-l50mzdBG6KZVJ-xoFXCxQtqq6dKgAM7ztVoLmGhkOlSrtwwZiLa_9I-gHxw/s1600/IMG_20130516_204548_940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXjIaKx0az0tk1GgAMxVW9rCHr6sWDp13Sy3vHiO4TmTLSytBJ-hgjDhF5f0wu8o_sgrqigdyXLzl6CE5-l50mzdBG6KZVJ-xoFXCxQtqq6dKgAM7ztVoLmGhkOlSrtwwZiLa_9I-gHxw/s640/IMG_20130516_204548_940.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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After the first night, my 6-year-old Allison said, "You don't actually have to know how to say their names. You can just go up and talk to them." I wish I could've recorded her sweet voice saying that. Those precious words summed up our whole experience.<br />
<br />
Honestly, I think the students truly appreciated that our younger children talked with them often and openly as if it really didn't matter that no one could understand each other...because it didn't. On several occasions, I heard Cienna talking away with one of the boys the same way she carries on conversations with her stuffed animals...imagining a response and continuing onward. The boys always smiled with delight and snapped pictures. So different for them than speaking with an adult...so little pressure when a child is around.<br />
<br />
I think they loved that our older children showed a genuine desire to just hang out with them even though very few words could be exchanged. They could still comfortably play catch or basketball or soccer or frisbee or jump on the trampoline or draw with chalk...the possibilities were surprisingly endless.<br />
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And last, but not least, I know they felt grateful that our children were better than we were at understanding the few words they did try to speak in English.<br />
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As we were saying good-bye, Shinya came running back and through a very jumbled mixture of Japanese and English words and lots of motions, I could tell he was clearly trying to ask me a question. I stared blankly and noticed that my mind was solely focused on the worried thought that I had no idea what he was trying to say. Eight-year-old Kirsti, carefree and open-minded, guessed a few words and finally stated, "I think he's looking for the strap that goes around his suitcase." When I motioned for him to come look in our van, he showed obvious relief that his charades were at least communicable to a child.<br />
<br />
Yes...children are barrier-breakers in a big way.<br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">Gift-giving</b><br />
<br />
Our visiting boys surprised and spoiled us with authentic Japanese chop sticks, fans, games, origami, inflatable paper balls, ceramic cups, and lots of tasty treats. The picture below only shows a small portion of the treasures they brought. I marveled at how humans all around the world create useful and meaningful things...different from each other, but also the same.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3NXeeCt77-QXUcZ_EURiGMTpVBaXdgWNzYKNYBaeUJeCL7uRKLFnhikHWTWYnuJpGKCWV8YVpvje6QrQoWVeKSu7qV57I6nZH3nMqf974PwlP0b8-FNit0_zUrfAI71RCVEb3Ubw0174/s1600/IMG_20130519_065242_745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3NXeeCt77-QXUcZ_EURiGMTpVBaXdgWNzYKNYBaeUJeCL7uRKLFnhikHWTWYnuJpGKCWV8YVpvje6QrQoWVeKSu7qV57I6nZH3nMqf974PwlP0b8-FNit0_zUrfAI71RCVEb3Ubw0174/s640/IMG_20130519_065242_745.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOwxZfLRuiggq39o-N0WfHJyezmIBo4SbwkUQK0xAFeS4T67GnxSiJo7jEziGCbZMOCbNC8y6OFx4QGOZB7BHBuK4uWquRsoilok5BZW5RW0D5ey2E2lKM8Ct36ottUo55kfE9TBE7Iw/s1600/IMG_20130518_150053_818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOwxZfLRuiggq39o-N0WfHJyezmIBo4SbwkUQK0xAFeS4T67GnxSiJo7jEziGCbZMOCbNC8y6OFx4QGOZB7BHBuK4uWquRsoilok5BZW5RW0D5ey2E2lKM8Ct36ottUo55kfE9TBE7Iw/s640/IMG_20130518_150053_818.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<This fan has now accompanied Allison everywhere...including Show-n-Tell.></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikm3VHajCNNgFXJdzwB_eDeD69Wu1umPLmEFWD_i68u_DXP-ilvvsg4M3RXFDOzKzAflRSeYAgB-0x8j5_MsMucVTS9GJS2VyvX_J8Y45PJp6MyU8HsC3uy2tketPgpnWl9b_3XWd4XKA/s1600/IMG_20130519_192207_933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikm3VHajCNNgFXJdzwB_eDeD69Wu1umPLmEFWD_i68u_DXP-ilvvsg4M3RXFDOzKzAflRSeYAgB-0x8j5_MsMucVTS9GJS2VyvX_J8Y45PJp6MyU8HsC3uy2tketPgpnWl9b_3XWd4XKA/s640/IMG_20130519_192207_933.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYt_c-DwRB0785Hj7YTcrGdByGQ12utD5twSVYVYwIlGbwKL-8ILFRkm8_lENcuxuru5OzLX_iGHxhzynlLNxwlzPzEG69yEePGI0gZRekdfFRY8wv-EpNyrIN56s_oE-w5derw3FlRvI/s1600/IMG_20130519_191912_479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYt_c-DwRB0785Hj7YTcrGdByGQ12utD5twSVYVYwIlGbwKL-8ILFRkm8_lENcuxuru5OzLX_iGHxhzynlLNxwlzPzEG69yEePGI0gZRekdfFRY8wv-EpNyrIN56s_oE-w5derw3FlRvI/s640/IMG_20130519_191912_479.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<I think the chop sticks fad will last a long time around here. Personally, I'll never forget how thrilled the Japanese Boys were when we fed them rice. ></div>
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We sent them home with some typical American party surprises:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8gKdlIQ3qRgxcmzktcR19PeuOsDHMp7E6gQjwWQbAbTWlevpM04PKNl8XdWv3ZZt8FbArinSuNdchtJ7GoMBOYwvkZ-ZdgcDEMhwSio70vrgNck-7nePKLpiKTAHd_69x3V7nu0budU/s1600/IMG_20130519_155057_755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8gKdlIQ3qRgxcmzktcR19PeuOsDHMp7E6gQjwWQbAbTWlevpM04PKNl8XdWv3ZZt8FbArinSuNdchtJ7GoMBOYwvkZ-ZdgcDEMhwSio70vrgNck-7nePKLpiKTAHd_69x3V7nu0budU/s640/IMG_20130519_155057_755.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="text-align: start;"><You know those little hollow half-circles that you turn inside out and then they 'pop'? I'm not sure if they have a name...but whatever they are, those little suckers were a huge hit!></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8aSHIr3djUVU42eU7Frg3aQezPmscTfErN_d2mp3sM_DKVlEBwLgrP_hwi_EL-1v9Pwsd1MEDumeH1wu233FInoJXwbYomfpBs9wwVR7fXhXYbhv2OvDjDJL1yaLXapOkbVG7houH-U/s1600/IMG_20130517_202604_795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8aSHIr3djUVU42eU7Frg3aQezPmscTfErN_d2mp3sM_DKVlEBwLgrP_hwi_EL-1v9Pwsd1MEDumeH1wu233FInoJXwbYomfpBs9wwVR7fXhXYbhv2OvDjDJL1yaLXapOkbVG7houH-U/s640/IMG_20130517_202604_795.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<Diggy actually won a scramble for a foul ball at the baseball game we attended. He deeply treasured it for several innings, had it signed by a few Boomers players after the game, and promptly gave it away to the Japanese students to take home as a souvenir. Love was in the air.></div>
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Exchanging gifts with exchange students was a spontaneous way of sharing the uniqueness of our distinct cultures. Words weren't needed. We're not sure if we'll ever see our new friends again. We know they still exist on the other side of the world, going about their daily life like we are doing here. But will we ever cross paths again? Maybe. Maybe not. Thankfully, the gifts we have from each other will keep memories lasting well into the future. </div>
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And we did learn how to say, "Arigato!"</div>
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<b>Conclusion</b></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">I hope our Japanese friends had as much fun as we did. I hope we sent them home with an honorable definition of what America is like. </span>I hope their parents feel very pleased about raising such great boys. I hope our children will long remember what it feels like to discover similarities and create bonds with those whose tongues make different sounds. I hope I will continue to look for and appreciate and use the many language barrier-breakers that are all around us because they can communicate love...often better than words.</div>
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ps: dispensing water out of a refrigerator was very exciting for our Japanese friends and therefore must be very American</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGtbtoljup91vhNIgcsEJAFnap0WE2Fa54yXjxDSM54sAB5QzSAISaXnE3hLoUksFbaodMSF0_oritqJXi9DiWTqB1okGDdK9SKE9Y-45jk_-aCtc8K0n3pXSImLApTDDo1bny2v5uhuA/s1600/IMG_20130517_151849_342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGtbtoljup91vhNIgcsEJAFnap0WE2Fa54yXjxDSM54sAB5QzSAISaXnE3hLoUksFbaodMSF0_oritqJXi9DiWTqB1okGDdK9SKE9Y-45jk_-aCtc8K0n3pXSImLApTDDo1bny2v5uhuA/s320/IMG_20130517_151849_342.jpg" width="180" /></a></span></div>
Smith Momentshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303776989990873897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-32164017689455819642013-05-25T06:00:00.000-07:002020-03-18T11:38:25.859-07:00 A Week's Worth of Wonder: May 25, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Another wonderful week...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExn_ejfNz7koHHunH_R2eY8-Tju1AJVmPV8rMug9LZzm0_tbdqKX6LvJ_OEa169HGGtO3tQ5yVYAk8dkvs_BbwaUFwcbfeYHmtYJwLJM8mAjVBfgEfKzYAPmHsvwabWzdwnKHF21eLAY/s1600/IMG_20130520_172411_917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExn_ejfNz7koHHunH_R2eY8-Tju1AJVmPV8rMug9LZzm0_tbdqKX6LvJ_OEa169HGGtO3tQ5yVYAk8dkvs_BbwaUFwcbfeYHmtYJwLJM8mAjVBfgEfKzYAPmHsvwabWzdwnKHF21eLAY/s400/IMG_20130520_172411_917.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i><We said good-bye to our Japanese visitors this week. Another post will share lots more pictures of their insightful stay.></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenhU31UyweodJU-VZQls-VlbwLuT4sCjuzMg3eCg0fOE5AoaQaoDTzGak6geP6Nvd0vJ4OP3xQ-wXr9yC7nBSvDyl9GQ3wUDvNqLAIuTkkMX7C2EZOBNAzc4ZZfplw7hb-qeFDnIEO50/s1600/IMG_20130519_185015_929.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenhU31UyweodJU-VZQls-VlbwLuT4sCjuzMg3eCg0fOE5AoaQaoDTzGak6geP6Nvd0vJ4OP3xQ-wXr9yC7nBSvDyl9GQ3wUDvNqLAIuTkkMX7C2EZOBNAzc4ZZfplw7hb-qeFDnIEO50/s400/IMG_20130519_185015_929.jpg" width="400" /></i></a></div>
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<i> <Origami captured a lot of our educational attention this week. I still need to snap pics of some of the awesome results.></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKzvzuzK-RFh7LosbPzjSrMATYwmdbyh7IbwvWCGdeq0XoO4NYsTGJyrzNyvrEqNE4qVWL2sis-GlLli0iud_YLsGg8rANVXUkwAf62Dy_2998M77J4DQZa8fOPaPI_Jlzmy8ZVUXMNpg/s1600/IMG_20130518_162620_562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKzvzuzK-RFh7LosbPzjSrMATYwmdbyh7IbwvWCGdeq0XoO4NYsTGJyrzNyvrEqNE4qVWL2sis-GlLli0iud_YLsGg8rANVXUkwAf62Dy_2998M77J4DQZa8fOPaPI_Jlzmy8ZVUXMNpg/s400/IMG_20130518_162620_562.jpg" width="400" /></i></a></div>
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<i><Sometimes it just takes Mom for-ev-er to shop...></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwvkzj34tDNyQ77E8AOygynlWKftPaWtV9VC7QsrtTpQCbBSMEuW4Edgvv8MK8y2bVF9jfwLeP5iNdHoGYySWK2OXZtTSLyDCU0X9Pl3hyphenhyphenH8l90e9RiTwruLKDovOdma-W_Dy0hLi-jA/s1600/IMG_20130518_165119_577.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwvkzj34tDNyQ77E8AOygynlWKftPaWtV9VC7QsrtTpQCbBSMEuW4Edgvv8MK8y2bVF9jfwLeP5iNdHoGYySWK2OXZtTSLyDCU0X9Pl3hyphenhyphenH8l90e9RiTwruLKDovOdma-W_Dy0hLi-jA/s400/IMG_20130518_165119_577.jpg" width="225" /></i></a></div>
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<i><These Wal-mart cars at the front of the store are a toddler's dream come true and the reason a nightmare-ish tantrum erupts upon departure.> </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2I93-DKXDGlmvXBF3zNOb6SGn4wqK5KFOgYV3OlQUUlXEVJ1DqPxMcHP_JZfmCk-dHbDc1oGvI-41VrCe2J7TTykqO7o0taONtiT0v2ujkXn_azgj0TJvWAlaeDJkBHsgvOaFWryiVQ/s1600/IMG_20130519_205352_169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2I93-DKXDGlmvXBF3zNOb6SGn4wqK5KFOgYV3OlQUUlXEVJ1DqPxMcHP_JZfmCk-dHbDc1oGvI-41VrCe2J7TTykqO7o0taONtiT0v2ujkXn_azgj0TJvWAlaeDJkBHsgvOaFWryiVQ/s400/IMG_20130519_205352_169.jpg" width="400" /></i></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1AYyOx0h7k8LHtOVm3CQ7b7Nt9Gl1p2wst6zMYGliZRHUSwsB-O3MaaknP-farfEA9JxEFokoZyRtW11hknKqcEU6GgmA1xyf-XBZ491CB9VnZJ9gi5bqiLJbgc5Ry7OmWElLf9Lu9Q/s1600/IMG_20130521_112938_497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><i><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1AYyOx0h7k8LHtOVm3CQ7b7Nt9Gl1p2wst6zMYGliZRHUSwsB-O3MaaknP-farfEA9JxEFokoZyRtW11hknKqcEU6GgmA1xyf-XBZ491CB9VnZJ9gi5bqiLJbgc5Ry7OmWElLf9Lu9Q/s400/IMG_20130521_112938_497.jpg" width="400" /></i></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YOpX7fqEqG9JbjJIaMOSO52iVle-9K-BawtwYhW2uJZySmjDxkR1xTW2DT1K1Ed0U06httMhNbPyFX7y8a4qdI5po857rhYyQNd08wBQEanViqiCWGNiGq2t0Yr3R5eLSTGm_N7bje8/s1600/IMG_20130521_113822_941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YOpX7fqEqG9JbjJIaMOSO52iVle-9K-BawtwYhW2uJZySmjDxkR1xTW2DT1K1Ed0U06httMhNbPyFX7y8a4qdI5po857rhYyQNd08wBQEanViqiCWGNiGq2t0Yr3R5eLSTGm_N7bje8/s400/IMG_20130521_113822_941.jpg" width="400" /></i></a></div>
<i> <span style="text-align: center;"><We witnessed the miracle of the birth of butterflies. Now our children can never say again that we've never had pets. We will cherish them a little longer and set them free very soon.></span></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosGvB-G95_uDZlHnQsJb8e1Ddh4KEljdZR_ZiE20Ictuh27yIPQtJmsxZnEeisb0vIVF0x2hcx22ertEzDxXiLYWvy3rx6qjLMU2wyd6WMvw91OLgBgxzE_7ttCMchzJg9Pcg7AgB3cI/s1600/IMG_20130521_125438_652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosGvB-G95_uDZlHnQsJb8e1Ddh4KEljdZR_ZiE20Ictuh27yIPQtJmsxZnEeisb0vIVF0x2hcx22ertEzDxXiLYWvy3rx6qjLMU2wyd6WMvw91OLgBgxzE_7ttCMchzJg9Pcg7AgB3cI/s400/IMG_20130521_125438_652.jpg" width="225" /></i></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpxRBpsEpRuDi6i-JCqbFcuaOQrnYAD9G2viFqaOuK94sz01FCM-mrozaiES3PAZTKY22K1F69ccEb_8My4NU1W6omCzUHlrdvjnMO-pSVvT3uQU1kMUHF1Dbn0pHLAiJaQ79TZ_IGa4/s1600/IMG_20130521_165338_866.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpxRBpsEpRuDi6i-JCqbFcuaOQrnYAD9G2viFqaOuK94sz01FCM-mrozaiES3PAZTKY22K1F69ccEb_8My4NU1W6omCzUHlrdvjnMO-pSVvT3uQU1kMUHF1Dbn0pHLAiJaQ79TZ_IGa4/s400/IMG_20130521_165338_866.jpg" width="225" /></i></a></div>
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<i><If I find a rolly-polly crawling across my kitchen counter, it's because their man-made domain just wasn't meant to contain them any longer.></i></div>
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<i><All of the elementary hand-clapping games are very IN right now. When I got to middle school back in the early 90s, I thought those childish rhymes would never be cool again...I guess I was wrong.></i></div>
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<i><We borrowed a Wii from a friend for some good bonding time with our Japanese visitors. We better master as many levels as we can before it's time to return it. Thanks Jeff and Denice!></i></div>
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-53191116945608838662013-05-23T05:48:00.000-07:002013-07-15T04:54:07.683-07:00The Decibel Level: Meditating Amidst My Children's NoiseSometimes the noise in this house drives me bonkers.<br />
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As a mother who tries my darnedest to open my heart to as much energy as my children have to share with me, and as a mother who values the creative clamor that comes from instruments and pretending and singing and laughing and joking, and as the mother of a really ear-piercingly screechy Baby #6 who never took a pacifier and has now grown into a really ear-piercingly screechy 23-month-old...<br />
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I expect a lot of noise.<br />
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But wow. Sometimes...<br />
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And the decibel level follows me wherever I go. I feel like a noise magnet...especially when I'm cooking dinner or on the phone or in the bathroom. I don't think I've successfully ducked away to the bathroom in the last 10 years without hearing, "Mom...Maahuum...!!!"<br />
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I find that the noise level is hardest to handle when my mind is busy thinking and churning over something deep and personal and bothersome. When my brain needs time and space to solve a major (or minor) life issue, I crave quiet.<br />
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But quiet is hard to come by in my neck of the woods.<br />
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So, what's a mother to do?<br />
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The other day I sat in the middle of our living room floor like a zombie because my mind was full of some big, worrisome thoughts. I just couldn't bear to let more chaos into my body and I felt like exploding when trumpet noise and piano noise and "Mom, how do you spell..." noise and "Mom, listen to this" noise and "Mom, can you..." noise and "Whaaaa!!" noise all echoed off my ear drums at once.<br />
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I almost screamed, "Why in the world are we all in the same room together??!!"<br />
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The thought of retreating behind a closed door...for just a few moments (or until Daddy came home)...seemed like the only solution. Instead, I shut down right in the middle of my bouncing children and I built a mental wall to protect myself from all of the noise, noise, and more noise.<br />
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I knew my children noticed (because children always do), so I added guilt to my list of emotions.<br />
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But then an idea came to me.<br />
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Is it possible to meditate in the middle of noisy, needy chaos?<br />
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I summoned my executive prefrontal cortex brain cells (PFC) and together we decided to stop building a defensive protection from the innocent noise surrounding us...and instead welcome it in.<br />
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My natural mind objected and argued that an all-out invasion would threaten my peace in unthinkable ways. It reminded me that self-defense was the only weapon I had complete control over and therefore the only way to fight for personal peace. But my PFC and I felt determined to take a stand nonetheless and try something different...something selfless.<br />
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So I set my personal struggles aside for a moment and...<br />
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I turned my attention to my son playing his trumpet. I watched him carefully. His eyes were focused. His fingers moved fluidly. He struggled on a few notes. He tried again. He smiled when he finished his piece. My eyes softened and agreed with his...success after many attempts IS so satisfying.<br />
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Next, my mind shifted to my daughter playing the piano. Her feet dangled at the bench. Her self-created pig tails swayed gently back and forth. The song she was playing...I clearly recognized it...it was the one that was such a challenge several weeks ago. When she turned to share her triumph with me, I was already watching her.<br />
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"I love listening to you play," I smiled.<br />
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Then my six-year-old...what was she writing anyways? Was it a thank you note? A birthday card? Ahh, this time her creation was a pretend math worksheet. She's been watching her older brother a lot lately. Such diligence in that mind of hers. I admired her fingers for a moment or two longer as she formed a line at the top of the page and wrote "Name" and then I turned my focus to...<br />
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Miss Cienna. A few minutes earlier she had asked me if she could pretend to be my dog in real life. This is a question I'd answered at least a hundred times in the last month, so "Yes" came spilling out of my mouth without me really noticing at all. Satisfied with my half-answer, she was now crawling around on the floor and talking to herself and several of her stuffed animals. She barked occasionally.<br />
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"Cotton," I called. "Come here, Cotton! I want to give my cute doggy a nice back scratch." She bounded over with her tongue hanging out and a very large grin on her face. She panted happily. Wow was it easy to make her day. And having a mind that's quick to forgive, quick to accept, and quick to share simple joy must feel so enlightening.<br />
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Finally, my MaryAnn (Kenny was away at school). MaryAnn squirmed on my lap, making irritating whiny sounds which indicated that she, too, was wrestling with how to digest all of the chaos in the room. (I don't blame her...she doesn't have much of a prefrontal cortex yet to have the option of choosing something other than self-defense.) She could also sense my attention on her siblings and naturally yearned for a piece of it. I rolled backwards onto the carpet and pulled her on top of me. My eyes met hers. Her face lit up. "What is she thinking?" I wondered. The one the thing she cares about most in life is getting her mama's attention. So simple, so sweet, so pure.<br />
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As I turned from my inner noise to truly focus on the noises my children were making, what a houseful of lovely surprises I found. When thoughts of chaos threatened to return and take over during this meditative experiment, I noticed their existence and politely asked those thoughts to wait while I focused on something that would strengthen me in my time of need...my amazing children.<br />
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Later, I still churned over whatever challenges needed churning...but my children's decibel level that I had been protecting myself from became the very healing balm I had needed to sooth my heart and face those tough adult-issues again.<br />
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<i><This is my Mother's Day breakfast in bed. I used to think of Mother's Day as the one day I deserved a retreat...away from my children. But over the years I have noticed the innocent enthusiasm of my children as they climb in bed next to me to proudly show me which part of breakfast their little hands had prepared. Then they naturally reach over to share my orange juice and eat some eggs. They seem to cuddle me with extra hugs all day long to show their gratitude for having a mother. I have realized that isolating myself on a day when my children are bubbling with celebration for </i>ME<i> would cause me to miss out on a whole lot of love. So, now I expect (and love) that Mother's Day is a day where my children are glued to me all the more. I will soak in these types of Mother's Days because some day these children of mine--the very reasons I am called a "mother"-- will be too big to squeeze all together onto my bed with me. I will miss that.></i></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-73385974905448363272013-05-18T20:37:00.001-07:002020-03-18T08:02:53.271-07:00A Week's Worth of Wonder: May 18, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Excitement this week has primarily revolved around something we're still in the middle of...4 Japanese middle school exchange students are staying with us for a few days. We have the privilege of being included in their definition of America. They know only a handful of English words. We're learning to say 'Hello' and 'Thank you' in Japanese. More to come on this cultural exchange next week...</div>
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Most of the other highlights below are self-explanatory (including the one where I'm dressed in the garbage bag that Kirsti designed as part of a mother-daughter fashion show).</div>
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<i><spotting anniversary="" flowers="" house="" made="" me="" my="" scattered="" smile="" the="" this="" throughout="" too.="" week=""></spotting></i></div>
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<br />Smith Momentshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303776989990873897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-20081954310640590702013-05-14T16:51:00.000-07:002013-05-14T16:51:05.086-07:00Wedding PrepSo Kirsti's brain is grasping reality more and more every day. I can tell because she continuously asks realistic questions that have direct impact on her future. For example, "Can Santa <i>really</i> go to every person's house in one night?" (Thus, we've shared the ins and outs of folks like Santa and the Tooth Fairy with her. She gets that parents want to give anonymously from time to time.)<br />
<br />
Kirsti thinks a lot about how she'll handle the future and I can see her wheels turning as she tries to prepare herself for what's ahead. Smart girl. (a sign of being in the <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/accountability-stage-education-set-and.html" target="_blank">Accountability Stage</a>)<br />
<br />
After looking at our wedding album recently and reminiscing about Aunt Bridget's bridal shower, Kirsti had an important question for me this last week:<br />
<br />
"Are there any secrets that moms tell their daughters before they get married?"<br />
<br />
"Uhhh..."<br />
<br />
I sensed a need to summon all my attention for this one. "What do you mean by secrets?" I asked, trying not to sound nervous.<br />
<br />
"Well, I know that the boy and the girl can make a baby after they get married. Are there any other secrets that you're going to tell me before I get married?" She sounded urgent...hoping I wouldn't wait until the last minute to share important information with her. (which I wouldn't do, of course ;)<br />
<br />
[Yep. This was definitely a good time to use my prefrontal cortex to become present-minded as quickly as possible and review a few facts for a split second before answering wisely: I knew she already knows that private parts are important for making babies and that when a boy and girl are mature enough, their sacred, private body parts contain the tiny cells that will create and nourish a new little person. We've scratched the surface on putting the pieces together...and apparently here we go into a much more detailed discussion on human sexuality. I'm okay with that. I'm ready.<br />
<br />
But then I also remembered: A child's brain doesn't think the same way an adult's brain does. Let's make sure we're on the same page. Jumping onto <i>her</i> wavelength to lead her along is always a waaay better idea than whip-lashing her onto mine.]<br />
<br />
I turned my heart and my eyes toward her. "I can tell you everything I know about getting married when the timing feels right. Is there something specific that you're worried about?"<br />
<br />
"Well...if I want to get to someone's house...how will I know how to get there?"<br />
<br />
[Not at all what I was expecting. Her innocence caught me off guard for a second...but then I recalled that she'd asked a similar question while we were driving together recently. Evidently, she'd concluded that married people seem to know where they are going and she didn't want to eventually become the only spouse in the world who was clueless about navigating around town. Makes sense. It is worrisome to feel lost. I should have reassured her that there are lots of married people who still need to ask for directions. But I didn't go there.]<br />
<br />
"Good question," I said. "I use a map. Do you know how to use a map?"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
"I'd be happy to teach you."<br />
<br />
We spent the next 30 minutes typing in addresses on Google Maps, discussing N/S/E/W, and acting out which direction we'd turn at each corner on the way to her friend's house.<br />
<br />
Questions drive much of the education around here. Questions are an indication that the mind is ready to really work at soaking in new information...and actually put it to good use or permanently store it...instead of letting it drift back out into space without hardly acknowledging its existence.<br />
<br />
If I'm not too distracted, I notice my children's questions and jump at the opportunity to foster learning at these keys moments when they are naturally most ripe for it.<br />
<br />
"Now you'll be ready to go anywhere you need to go after you're married," I stated confidently. [wink and phew]<br />
<br />
She was relieved. And we checked geography off our list of weekly goals.<br />
<br />
We'll brush up on human sexuality another day...well before her wedding day, for sure.<br />
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<i>Kirsti's been wedding-planning for some time now. She asked Grandma to make her a wedding dress for her 4th birthday a few years back (pictured above). She googles 'wedding dress designs' regularly and now she knows how to read a map. She'll be a very beautiful (and well-prepared) bride some day.</i></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-6557524505732390142013-05-11T08:55:00.001-07:002020-03-17T15:14:44.919-07:00Self-Discipline Education: Blaze Your Own Trail<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-7bb845cb-46fc-c12f-aabe-df9aedf6fd58" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Compared to the super long posts about educating our <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/03/attachment-lesson-2-you-belong.html" target="_blank">Attachment (ages 0-3)</a>, <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/following-stage-education-mimic-million.html" target="_blank">Following (ages 1-8)</a>, and <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/accountability-stage-education-set-and.html" target="_blank">Accountability (ages 7-12)</a> kids, I have (a little) less to say about educating our Self-discipline Stagers (ages 11-18)...partly because we only have one child this far along on life's journey (Kenny, age 12). But mostly because the whole point of the Self-discipline Stage is to give our children room to test being in charge of themselves...which means I have much less to do with their educational schedule now. It moves to their hands.<br />
While in the early stages, learners depend very much on the people around them for educational success because that's how the human brain is wired. The Self-Discipline Stage is a bridge into a whole new ball-game. By the upcoming Independence Stage, I expect my kids to recognize, seek out, set, and accomplish personal educational goals pretty much all on their own because they'll have a much more mature prefrontal cortex by then (which will increase their ability to think and act for themselves). I'll just be the cheer leader then. So the Self-Discipline Stage must bridge the gap between accountability to Mom and Dad and independence from Mom and Dad.<br />
To accomplish this in our house, we've decided to continue mentoring and guiding our children toward worthy goals (obviously), but we also must find ways to truly let them be self-motivated in managing their time (without mom and dad hangin' on to their coattails as they try to make their way in this world a bit more on their own). We must ultimately let them lead the way in accomplishing their goals alone (in other words no nagging, prodding, manipulating, making up consequences, etc....that's way easier said than done, but I'm getting better).<br />
Here are a few of our current parental strategies for educating our children during the Self-discipline stage:
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<li><i>Let the child create his/her own plan.</i> We continue to hold one-on-one mentor meetings, but during the Self-discipline stage, our child (I could just say Kenny because he's the only one there right now) comes prepared to share his upcoming weekly schedule with us (he uses a color-coded Google spreadsheet that he made). It shows when he plans to sleep, work, play, etc. We may give a few suggestions, but we primarily let him inform us about his short and long-term goals and how he plans to accomplish those goals. We want him to practice thinking for himself so he (and we) can see what happens before he truly is on his own. We don't make the final call on what his goals should be and how to accomplish them like we did during the Accountability Stage.</li>
<li><i>Offer support.</i> We assist our self-discipline child in finding educational opportunities and other inspiring adults to practice being accountable to...via online classes, scouts, community classes, public school classes, activities, etc. But choice of goals, classes, and completion of assignments related to any classes taken is much more (if not completely) on the child's shoulders during this stage.</li>
<li><i>Don't pounce.</i>If we have done our parenting job during the early years of our children's lives (spending lots of time and energy working our way up <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/pyramid" target="_blank">The Pyramid</a>), then they already know our family values by the time they reach puberty. And now it's time for them to begin discovering for themselves if the values we have taught bring happiness...or not. In other words, we don't have to bombard our self-discipline kids with "So, do you have any homework tonight? When are you going to get it done?" as soon as they walk in the front door. They would easily detect that we would only be trying to selfishly resolve our own "I-hope-my-child-understands-time-management-and healthy-living" anxiety and would likely defend themselves against us in some way (various personalities defend themselves in different ways...but it's usually not pretty in any form). Instead, our children would prefer that we respect their current brain development and let them practice self-discipline without getting in their way. To not pounce often takes some serious self-discipline on our part.<br />
Translating this to Kenny's case: After reviewing his schedule with him on Sundays, we simply observe him (in a positive way) throughout the week, drive him to where he needs to be, cheer him on, and accept that his choices are his and not ours. Sometimes he doesn't organize his time the way we would. Sometimes we feel like he wastes time. Sometimes he doesn't follow his schedule. Sometimes he makes mistakes. But we just keep letting him test how his choices affect his life and the lives of those around him. We celebrate with him when things go well. And we keep loving him and encouraging him when he's left to suffer a negative, natural consequence because of his choices (like feeling tired because he stayed up late to finish homework...when he could have prioritized homework ahead of video-game playing earlier in the day).</li>
<li><i>Expect a report.</i> Each week, we ask Kenny to report on his progress and review the natural consequences of his choices (which basically are "Whatever ya' focus your attention on gets accomplished or improves. Whatever ya' don't focus your attention on doesn't get done.") Did he accomplish his goals? Why or why not? What natural benefit or detriment came (or may come) as a result? Our biggest hope is that we can foster a parent-child relationship in which he feels safe being completely honest with himself and with us about his hopes, dreams, weaknesses, and strengths. We find that if our children expect that we will give them endless suggestions, they will sit quietly and not say a word...and their minds will drift far away. But if they expect that we will truly listen to their analysis of their own situation, they will open up and almost always come to the very conclusions we'd hope for them...all on their own. And more importantly, we find that when they come to meaningful conclusions themselves, something turns a light on in their brains and self-motivation (as opposed to extrinsic/parental motivation) gets their heart beating in a positive direction.</li>
<li><i>Review natural consequences.</i> Sometimes it feels appropriate to discuss a natural consequence immediately after an event ("I bet you were thirsty without your water bottle today. I wonder if you forgot it because your mind was busy with your Rubik's cube right before practice and then we rushed out the door so you wouldn't' be late. A little extra planning should easily fix that problem in the future. Let's go home and get you something to drink."). But a lot of times, we wait until the next mentor meeting to review natural consequences so our thoughts don't get absorbed as monotonous lectures. We want both him and us to be in a <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/present/detail" target="_blank">present mindset </a>when we discuss behavioral progress and potential changes. Otherwise defensive walls just get higher and thicker.</li>
<li><i>Don't invent unnatural consequences.</i> In order for our kids to practice self-discipline, we have to put the control of their education in their hands. If we have to make up any consequences to control their motivation toward educational success, then we put ourselves in control of their self-discipline instead of them because we control whether or not that consequence gets enforced. This feeds the impulsive areas of the brain (for both parent and child), which makes long-term self-discipline even harder. For example, Kenny no longer receives an increased allowance from us for educational goals (like he did during the<a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/accountability-stage-education-set-and.html" target="_blank"> Accountability Stage</a>) because he is not accountable to us for accomplishing them. He is accountable to himself, to his teachers, and to God. We are more like facilitators. Final judgement of academic goals and success/failure is simply not in our hands anymore during this natural stage of life that's intended to surge humans toward self-reliance. So we butt ourselves out (even though it's so tempting to stick our noses in to push the mire around sometimes). Instead, Kenny receives an 'A' from his teachers and the natural joy of being successfully in charge of his own education. He knows the importance of getting an education and he is choosing that path for himself. He knows he could sit like a bump on a log on our couch every day if he wanted to. We would really let him (honestly). But he has enough foresight (prefrontal cortex connections) to see that that's not a good idea for long-term happiness. Plus, his brain is not consumed with emotional defensive walls. He is free to choose. And that's very motivating.</li>
<li><i>Be emotionally honest and let accountability rest on the child's shoulders.</i> If a self-discipline child's choices cause stress on others, we let him know it and ask him to reconsider his actions and repair his mistakes. This typically doesn't apply to educational issues (at least for now), but I thought I'd mention it here anyways. As a member of our family, Kenny is still very much accountable to us (his parents) for much of his family-life behavior (like keeping his socks off the living room floor or being nice to his sister). If he irritates us, we pull him aside and let him know it. We don't absorb the natural consequences alongside him like we did when he was younger (less than age 8). But we also don't make him change. He still has to choose the peace that comes with positive change for himself. If he doesn't, the natural consequence is that he and the people around him will suffer more than if he doesn't fix his wrongs and change his course.</li>
<li><i>A note about technology</i>: To truly help our children master the skill of self-discipline (which their brains are quite ready for at this age), we have to let them experiment upon the values we've been teaching all these years. So, when it comes to technology during this stage, we no longer dictate when they can "get on" or when "time is up." They get to choose how much time to spend on their favorite games. This freedom makes for an interesting learning curve (and feels like a parental roller coaster). But we feel that they (and we) are ready for that responsibility during the self-discipline stage. We prefer they practice now...under our roof and in our loving care. The only thing we hound them about is that they must keep an honest record of how much time they do spend on technological entertainment (by signing in and out and adding up the minutes) so we can have an honest and open discussion with them come Sunday evening about how their time in the last seven days was used and how it affected their week and may affect their future.</li>
<li><i>Honesty is the key...but what do we do if our Accountability and Self-discipline age children are not honest.</i> This (of course) has happened...more than once and with various children. Figuring out how to handle sticky situations is a normal part of growing up. Lying, hiding, and rationalizing is one way of "resolving" challenges and it's usually easier than facing the truth in the short-term. So, we're not surprised that our children test the dishonesty method out a bit. It just becomes another opportunity for Brent and I to practice responding in a present-minded way (as opposed to <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/present" target="_blank">defensive or offensive or absent</a>). I'm documenting the details of a current situation in my journal these days in case inspiration strikes to share it publicly. My best advice for now is to seek inspiration out of true love for your child, which requires that a parent sacrifice (or set down) <i>personal</i> worries, anger, frustration, tension, etc, so the focus is truly on<i> how to help the child progress</i> rather than just disciplining the child to settle the parent's raw emotions. Children are incredibly defensive (and can become offensive) when parents discipline just to blow off personal steam. The results are not pretty.</li>
<li><i>Keep inspiring.</i> Even though our teens are much more in charge of choosing happiness or misery for themselves, they are still our children. We still spend lots of physical and emotional energy on building a positive relationship with them. We still seek to inspire them with the light that makes us happy. We still search for positive mentors to introduce them to. We still pray for them and ponder what we can do to influence them for good. Answers come.</li>
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<b>Kenny's Week</b><br />
I know that regardless of whether Kenny gets his education at home, online, or at a school, he will gain the most self-worth if he takes control of his own education (deciding what to take and how much effort to put in) while I take the back seat job of moral supporter as opposed to driver.<br />
We have an excellent, top-rated middle school in the community. After talking with yet another awesome principal who recommended Kenny pick which 6th grade classes he would like to take, Kenny decided to enroll in PE, Chinese, math (he qualified for high honors), science, and creative arts as well as band (saxophone) and orchestra (cello). He is gone every day from about 7 am until 12:30, which includes eating lunch at school. He has choir, scouts, orchestra, musical rehearsals, and sometimes soccer in the evenings.<br />
Because he did 7th grade level grammar with me at home last year and it's not his favorite subject, he's taking the year off in that subject.<br />
During his few hours at home in the afternoons, he reads a lot, does some free writing, is supposed to practice instruments, and still enjoys doing history with us. (And he's pretty good at squeezing in a good 30-60 minutes of video-game playing on the tablet...<i>Minecraft</i> is a current favorite.)<br />
He gets himself up, showers, packs his own lunch, and stays on top of his homework each day without any prodding or pushing or checking or even much helping from us.<br />
He's a straight-A student (all from the public school...I don't give official grades here at home). His teachers have good things to say about having him in class.<br />
Socially...he's happy and confident. He comes home chatting about various teachers and kids. Though middle school can be an awkward time for most, Kenny is navigating the process of finding good friends with much more maturity than was possible during elementary years. He does lots of texting. Past social challenges have decreased...in fact, I would say that his social sensitivity is mostly a strength now instead of a weakness.<br />
Pardon me for all that braggin'. But Kenny really is a good kid. Of course he's a normal pre-teen in so many ways as well...but that's part of who is he right now and I only have a few years to appreciate that part about him, too. So, I like Kenny just how he is.<br />
All in all...I honestly feel that giving Kenny (and our future self-discipline kids) so much lovely time to freely explore in the safety of our family world during his younger years while his brain was still adding crucial connections filled his soul up with security and confidence and has better prepared him to go out into the world to be his own person that can choose wisely for himself amidst all the to and fro peer pressures of middle school.
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-7bb845cb-46fc-c12f-aabe-df9aedf6fd58" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_RD9oqGhYPOUTacrXQX69BAqn4guHaGxUKSLYA43RGUly2f2z4C97fv2xjd4YdBkFL7PdETbAFdO5gXCIPRg4PTnHTq7AG8osyEZ-fQcKBZSs5cGSt5OWQH9qXv9uEsmLphXZEnGeA8/s1600/Oct+Nov+2012+157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_RD9oqGhYPOUTacrXQX69BAqn4guHaGxUKSLYA43RGUly2f2z4C97fv2xjd4YdBkFL7PdETbAFdO5gXCIPRg4PTnHTq7AG8osyEZ-fQcKBZSs5cGSt5OWQH9qXv9uEsmLphXZEnGeA8/s320/Oct+Nov+2012+157.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-7bb845cb-46fc-c12f-aabe-df9aedf6fd58" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><middle school is just one big morph zone></i></span></b></span></div>
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</span></b></span>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-7588375313482386222013-05-11T07:56:00.001-07:002020-03-18T07:03:46.354-07:00A Week's Worth of Wonder: May 11, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week was full of LOTS of learning...</div>
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<i><A horse movie influenced our educational endeavors in a dramatic way this last week.></i><br />
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<i><We also received our caterpillars this week (insectlore.com). They started as tiny creatures and are impressing us with their daily growth spurts. Next week...chrysalides...and then butterflies!></i><br />
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<i><My little interior designers created a personalized eating space one day. They were so pleased that I let them eat breakfast, lunch, AND dinner at their new table.></i></div>
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<T<i>he beginnings of an out-door fort...I'm glad to see the broom included.></i><br />
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<i><I heard, "Can we PLEASE?! have a dog?" shortly after this rendezvous.></i><br />
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<i><Our Fairy Friends from a few weeks ago are still enjoying lots of adventures around here.></i><br />
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<<i>Still lots of yard work to do this spring...but we're making progress thanks to some of our big helpers.></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiqcvafh26R54P38bRqCbHesEEb3Fo3djrpXDV3oA4Knoo71PQnhtV2rNMMR0F_d9S07GFiDf4Md_hFAAdiBgXrxqciyZsDbz5dOhaeQbaOPM963sJMMU8736zhPFk03G_itsdz7lutX0/s1600/IMG_20130504_134838_711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiqcvafh26R54P38bRqCbHesEEb3Fo3djrpXDV3oA4Knoo71PQnhtV2rNMMR0F_d9S07GFiDf4Md_hFAAdiBgXrxqciyZsDbz5dOhaeQbaOPM963sJMMU8736zhPFk03G_itsdz7lutX0/s400/IMG_20130504_134838_711.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<<i>I gave Diggy a kit to make a cell out of plaster and clay since he's shown interest in memorizing the parts of various cells over the last few weeks. But just like any other time I've handed him a "kit", he uses the supplies to create something completely different. He started a panorama of a mountain instead... </i> </div>
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<i>which prompted Cienna to dig our her collection of clay. Naturally.></i></div>
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<i><I love park weather!></i><br />
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<i style="text-align: center;"><Karaoke night to celebrate the end of choir season.></i><br />
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<i><We young ladies are up to our ears in concerts/recitals as the school year comes to a close. About 10 performances since the beginning of April. We like to walk up and down the bleachers. Sometime Mom or Dad explores the hallways with us. But we save our best attention for the songs that include our older siblings because we love watching them perform. We like to clap for them. Their music makes our bodies want to get up and dance. Can't wait for another 4 performances this next week. Woohoo!></i><br />
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<i style="text-align: center;"><Part of living with the rapidly growing mind of a toddler means letting her be one of us big folks as often as possible...this translates into slowing down to live life at pace where she can keep up. MaryAnn learned how to buckle her car seat this week. She wanted to linger longer to practice her new skill whenever I gave her a few extra minutes before rushing off to the next thing on the To Do list. </i><br />
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<i style="text-align: center;">We also wisely scheduled in an extra 30 minutes for our walk to pick up Allison from school because MaryAnn has noticed that big people push strollers instead of riding in them. And when Cienna needs a nudge, big hands will do the trick. A good education takes time.> </i></div>
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<<i>Brent brought home a variety of flowers for my girls to arrange and strategically place throughout the house in honor of our 14th anniversary this last week. Now whether I'm brushing my teeth, setting the table, or folding laundry, I have a visual reminder that my Love loves me.></i> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEqTQDynFbSsOeUqJmP6zAhEdKiCgMX7nkqySxSsmP9Qy-SPo5xRxMhRZTHzJgZrEQnG2CJzL-CX_p7z9ATJYq5L5cqTS-QyAla-bajnisK4GOHHi_FrNQzA7wV6vkMU79BMWiMMhH98/s1600/IMG_20130507_091140_489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEqTQDynFbSsOeUqJmP6zAhEdKiCgMX7nkqySxSsmP9Qy-SPo5xRxMhRZTHzJgZrEQnG2CJzL-CX_p7z9ATJYq5L5cqTS-QyAla-bajnisK4GOHHi_FrNQzA7wV6vkMU79BMWiMMhH98/s400/IMG_20130507_091140_489.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><I wonder if MaryAnn is in there...</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLDWBIkontYMuNbLkJ0X109Ncge-Je8dHTxDsgReOJrjp-cimWkPQBeiVfluakiqFbbqzYB0bQCuPz4KTzOI781oj4l4ROULsslvlY8lIG3_TNnERUIOlzdNlwZVh597z1IbgzEASlpk/s1600/IMG_20130505_203508_387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLDWBIkontYMuNbLkJ0X109Ncge-Je8dHTxDsgReOJrjp-cimWkPQBeiVfluakiqFbbqzYB0bQCuPz4KTzOI781oj4l4ROULsslvlY8lIG3_TNnERUIOlzdNlwZVh597z1IbgzEASlpk/s400/IMG_20130505_203508_387.jpg" width="353" /></a></div>
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<i>There she is! My week feels complete now that I've found her.></i></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-49892525040780300842013-05-04T04:50:00.002-07:002020-03-18T06:49:26.845-07:00A Week's Worth of Wonder: May 4, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Along with all the usual downs (siblings pulling each other's hair...often, two spilled bowls of salsa within five minutes, tears and tantrums in all varieties, multiple late pick-up/drop-offs, yadda yadda yadda) we had some pretty wonderful learning moments this last week as well...here's a peak:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIutnJItgpv9mhIql7-9WNIDZ4plwcQCHhzkd5bllromoYtQ0iffVLHcVplNYq_rcKe6h7BJTEHdJw-lDbnNO8U7l2SNYcKZLFwNuE0PQl__ZloZIRUdSVZGfVaLTHNMLbLAuT1OUpj4/s1600/IMG_20130428_173833_252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwIutnJItgpv9mhIql7-9WNIDZ4plwcQCHhzkd5bllromoYtQ0iffVLHcVplNYq_rcKe6h7BJTEHdJw-lDbnNO8U7l2SNYcKZLFwNuE0PQl__ZloZIRUdSVZGfVaLTHNMLbLAuT1OUpj4/s400/IMG_20130428_173833_252.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijHCpTIuy6-EERhLWqgb-caISI_BWtH2kAG4LS0orkk42PYl3Ech1GPdMDcV301sZQ2S2zkjeNwiZxkbRQoUECp3K7bJOKnJujejs3d9UQUEOMYb-b1kB_u9SafuCw3He-t8FV-nM1En8/s1600/IMG_20130428_173847_634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijHCpTIuy6-EERhLWqgb-caISI_BWtH2kAG4LS0orkk42PYl3Ech1GPdMDcV301sZQ2S2zkjeNwiZxkbRQoUECp3K7bJOKnJujejs3d9UQUEOMYb-b1kB_u9SafuCw3He-t8FV-nM1En8/s400/IMG_20130428_173847_634.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dbshfqRVq2q-ECEkwMi5g3u7cRZSjw_ys-gUzemaZH4SwAPzS46K5XMNeai9onDwSRPo27NoC3DH4k48ACmTVfNfz-_wh1IUklrrYPZmeosbo1SEoLJ5lNDuLBnQ7hpVCOPw62uYlcM/s1600/IMG_20130428_184534_586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dbshfqRVq2q-ECEkwMi5g3u7cRZSjw_ys-gUzemaZH4SwAPzS46K5XMNeai9onDwSRPo27NoC3DH4k48ACmTVfNfz-_wh1IUklrrYPZmeosbo1SEoLJ5lNDuLBnQ7hpVCOPw62uYlcM/s400/IMG_20130428_184534_586.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOPdQmdJ9QnDD3sBTF67xbDsDppmtI1LBYNqH2BAc1bjog_Ma8fWS6hDlc0bIe0qljJVBccL_0VEyHk9OMKFSpEZElusqnrF84NyJLeHewfO2N-RCDXcfeansKDRUFauofOwTzXzZ5Bk/s1600/IMG_20130428_184553_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrOPdQmdJ9QnDD3sBTF67xbDsDppmtI1LBYNqH2BAc1bjog_Ma8fWS6hDlc0bIe0qljJVBccL_0VEyHk9OMKFSpEZElusqnrF84NyJLeHewfO2N-RCDXcfeansKDRUFauofOwTzXzZ5Bk/s400/IMG_20130428_184553_969.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIgq1Qmg8YgD4T0wSNKXsJsqrS1b_Vx81oVz0q7fV7oKnQpSdqxf7dC__n3cKYeR99LC24XTfBUDiZ8eWm8hKBipgSwl7aKKWf-TyxiWkhCwdcOi5ixt0Cn392Oozpvbmf14Wuxt6Fwto/s1600/IMG_20130428_192609_652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIgq1Qmg8YgD4T0wSNKXsJsqrS1b_Vx81oVz0q7fV7oKnQpSdqxf7dC__n3cKYeR99LC24XTfBUDiZ8eWm8hKBipgSwl7aKKWf-TyxiWkhCwdcOi5ixt0Cn392Oozpvbmf14Wuxt6Fwto/s400/IMG_20130428_192609_652.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><Sometimes when I bake bread, I'm alone in the kitchen with only the sounds of my wheat grinder and mixer</i> <i>to keep me company. But last Sunday, the kids spontaneously erupted into acts of baking right along side me...inventing recipes with all the confidence of a pro chef. Kirsti made miniature apple pies, remembering to use the cutest muffin cups she could find (something that would never cross my mind). Diggy made a peach cobbler. Cienna and Allison copied Kirsti as best they could. It was all very delish.></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Gbn2EUbWpjARWhYNrezUjhgKr3iwfnbK0PCr2yuRiPmlMyuN_Qj92L-X5UTwCZOIpjBEnuU6HM9razlVwcSSQfSPg7xNxQWmNt2NQSp9zcFGjZNWREPPEZgXFeCzGNA-XWHKQsRf1dY/s1600/IMG_20130428_202438_926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Gbn2EUbWpjARWhYNrezUjhgKr3iwfnbK0PCr2yuRiPmlMyuN_Qj92L-X5UTwCZOIpjBEnuU6HM9razlVwcSSQfSPg7xNxQWmNt2NQSp9zcFGjZNWREPPEZgXFeCzGNA-XWHKQsRf1dY/s400/IMG_20130428_202438_926.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGQPPJhLRWpXMJNDAFmtVg2ogfOcs-akzpj0qCINoLxZoUEb5CyTkCAx1VoRv2PeFoxGv1w40645kpc9x6NSs32KX0FEAc8YobuLb8quDim1d6qzlUGhcCMWEvzGeiubQ-zTwg3pJA1s/s1600/IMG_20130429_093931_713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGQPPJhLRWpXMJNDAFmtVg2ogfOcs-akzpj0qCINoLxZoUEb5CyTkCAx1VoRv2PeFoxGv1w40645kpc9x6NSs32KX0FEAc8YobuLb8quDim1d6qzlUGhcCMWEvzGeiubQ-zTwg3pJA1s/s400/IMG_20130429_093931_713.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i><The pile of shoes left in the middle of the floor were a sign that dancing was a part of our week.></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAip2gcdqayQmYJwazwuJFSh-H5VMgUYs58xBghiG4TW9l9nsdKiiMCTyOSi5iibZZ_MAcUVtDsu1clTOsNquSPAU_bJrjc6Jc4bjZ5HV11iaDNntMrjJEccoojq1sEDk35Jtvx5mpq8/s1600/IMG_20130429_085418_777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAip2gcdqayQmYJwazwuJFSh-H5VMgUYs58xBghiG4TW9l9nsdKiiMCTyOSi5iibZZ_MAcUVtDsu1clTOsNquSPAU_bJrjc6Jc4bjZ5HV11iaDNntMrjJEccoojq1sEDk35Jtvx5mpq8/s400/IMG_20130429_085418_777.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<<i>After reading that Laura and Pa had discovered a mysterious bird in their barn one day, Diggy's mind gloriously raced until he felt comfortable with his own diagnosis of what species it could have been. A derivative of the Great Auk, he thinks. He's an animal lover, that Boy.> </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrfDO1PowJ9zb5Hq1IkgLL36ds-7lAULtV__hs9PnlAUX8yOwAoa7uzcJjPeX-nKCHHtyrziPWvD-scXzd4HD0FEHw8Gu0MwlD99MIOrt4MudsQZ6XgasdIwxgfdJKohffxrWgxzwQjg/s1600/IMG_20130429_133305_170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrfDO1PowJ9zb5Hq1IkgLL36ds-7lAULtV__hs9PnlAUX8yOwAoa7uzcJjPeX-nKCHHtyrziPWvD-scXzd4HD0FEHw8Gu0MwlD99MIOrt4MudsQZ6XgasdIwxgfdJKohffxrWgxzwQjg/s400/IMG_20130429_133305_170.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwduweLD82q-W9iRcbILV_P623mCEHxcwywPAQvGsBxDsdhWkKcVYMr5Hq61I6mJApyv459coTyfPrLdyiPj_lmDmvzh3g0UbFb3-BBAET5ZaiYbrSdrdzG7fk_oGoQUVltHwjdr7x-4/s1600/IMG_20130429_133318_314.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwduweLD82q-W9iRcbILV_P623mCEHxcwywPAQvGsBxDsdhWkKcVYMr5Hq61I6mJApyv459coTyfPrLdyiPj_lmDmvzh3g0UbFb3-BBAET5ZaiYbrSdrdzG7fk_oGoQUVltHwjdr7x-4/s400/IMG_20130429_133318_314.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<<i>One day this week, Kirsti and Cienna disappeared for awhile. When I discovered them in the bathroom, I needed no explanation...getting little ones ready to go takes forever sometimes.</i><i>> </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LpfMcKDjBVGOKiufy59jkl90hDz8p0p4R7cS-iQnup-GNurEhjQHVrkBPn01OeB_i2xgihKpVXRrtmJuFYP6_YhPCLoh_41D-xXkBnJRKV0LwLfO_AZJdwEpaOBGyW-ZMMrnszVQqgU/s1600/IMG_20130428_101300_869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LpfMcKDjBVGOKiufy59jkl90hDz8p0p4R7cS-iQnup-GNurEhjQHVrkBPn01OeB_i2xgihKpVXRrtmJuFYP6_YhPCLoh_41D-xXkBnJRKV0LwLfO_AZJdwEpaOBGyW-ZMMrnszVQqgU/s400/IMG_20130428_101300_869.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i><Speaking of getting little ones ready...I had a few extra people to dress for church last Sunday. Sometimes we have to get creative in order to get out the door peacefully. (Daddy's always at church for early meetings before the kids even roll out of bed, so the poor guy misses all the drama that Sunday mornings bring. Don't worry...I tell him all about it when we're crawling into bed at the end of the day.) Looks like MaryAnn's missing a pretty hair bow...next time.></i><br />
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<i><Little hands love to play with shapes while older kids are busy writing or calculating.></i></div>
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<i><Kirsti has been trying to conquer multiplication and division facts. Putting numbers into "families" seems to be doing the trick lately.></i><br />
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<i><We all love Starfall.com around here.></i><br />
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<i><These two are troopers at the thousands of older sib activities they "get" to attend. Above they are enduring another violin lesson. Cienna looks sick, but a thermometer just happened to be her make-believe assistant for the day. I heard her having an awesome conversation with it. Way to work those imagination neurons!></i></div>
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<i><As much as Diggy loves animals...Allison loves flowers.></i><br />
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<i><Nice soccer practice weather means visiting the beloved "Lady Bug Park", writing while the wind rustles your pages, fighting over who gets to give MaryAnn an underdog, proving you can do the monkey bars, and climbing a favorite tree.></i></div>
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<<i>We watched a horse movie this week. So, these fellas are our new best friends.></i></div>
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<i><Helping Brent with yard work has the potential to spark a variety of outdoor adventures. That happened this week. Probably because spring is finally here..and because Daddy uses cool tools and creates dust fit for fairies.></i></div>
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<i><i></i></i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmzNOImkpJQWwM7UjGH1_GwTfuBwC9nFhbNiH6_WymVpjgnS3Sr0xZMJH8lElj497tmx9zu-ojPqZL5dGgk-D_uVE_w8c915Dm59z3_zGA9tp9DqNOlJ6NJ6iqrZSAPucryBSogsoNiE/s1600/IMG_20130426_112858_621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmzNOImkpJQWwM7UjGH1_GwTfuBwC9nFhbNiH6_WymVpjgnS3Sr0xZMJH8lElj497tmx9zu-ojPqZL5dGgk-D_uVE_w8c915Dm59z3_zGA9tp9DqNOlJ6NJ6iqrZSAPucryBSogsoNiE/s400/IMG_20130426_112858_621.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33RFzQ0fYgNYHtU6-IXhR919-UdJ8kcEpqx6TRFvtNCeLXOMuKndxihNKK-Wl_GMbi-jiUT3r3nG0oeVZNDc44kXMsbEsR20dXg4l0t9-JhWgVqwMXZhftlmBnKGJjeAZ6RpYg-vt4pU/s1600/IMG_20130503_121715_487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33RFzQ0fYgNYHtU6-IXhR919-UdJ8kcEpqx6TRFvtNCeLXOMuKndxihNKK-Wl_GMbi-jiUT3r3nG0oeVZNDc44kXMsbEsR20dXg4l0t9-JhWgVqwMXZhftlmBnKGJjeAZ6RpYg-vt4pU/s400/IMG_20130503_121715_487.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<<i>And what's a week without a fort?! </i></div>
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<i>I think MaryAnn is hiding in there. I can't find her </i>anywhere<i>. I'll keep looking...</i><i>></i></div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-89296699845921588762013-04-28T07:23:00.001-07:002020-03-18T08:02:21.456-07:00A Week's Worth of Wonder: April 28, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The following pictures are a peak at a few of our favorite learning focuses this past week:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5nHjaiOWn9962BZu740fwyG97dUR7r8DRHuK_jfowdj0KZXhsy87hv9mXu9N0Xhk-df_rG404S1LjutTgjD3gKAWyQp1mlH0OoXGvjbm47olU4h0vdFMapChm-dxXDOHX80TyOxjK-U/s1600/IMG_20130420_105821_332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5nHjaiOWn9962BZu740fwyG97dUR7r8DRHuK_jfowdj0KZXhsy87hv9mXu9N0Xhk-df_rG404S1LjutTgjD3gKAWyQp1mlH0OoXGvjbm47olU4h0vdFMapChm-dxXDOHX80TyOxjK-U/s400/IMG_20130420_105821_332.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<<i>We finally fulfilled Allison's dream of having her friends over to celebrate her birthday (which was almost a month ago, but Spring break, General Conference, etc. complicated schedules enough to continue post-poning the fun until last Saturday).</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_OXO3QMtjcQgDJj1eICTlLONGxswk9g__La7gXMVIi-CFPzI0AMIm87D4wVHTv7p9jEf8qosMIZ3Z3I0pxUuGnUzqIEAOK1PCvt_Syy09soufC86v1jkUJ0E4px1T9Q26JpxZTqxuUo/s1600/IMG_20130420_115851_930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_OXO3QMtjcQgDJj1eICTlLONGxswk9g__La7gXMVIi-CFPzI0AMIm87D4wVHTv7p9jEf8qosMIZ3Z3I0pxUuGnUzqIEAOK1PCvt_Syy09soufC86v1jkUJ0E4px1T9Q26JpxZTqxuUo/s400/IMG_20130420_115851_930.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>The hit of the party was a treasure hunt with a map, clues, and loot....completely orchestrated by big sister, Kirsti.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFJMPBr-ZzTnlgyYR9TG28tlVoPy79rzJv6X8aRN_8g6UeEE-lzFIJZ5EdZ4NKhxzvR7Q7xQhZPLZhCPlcManKtRf_cuBbyeG1dVyQaWv52BR9Yk9ULPddI7_No3nJGqXqn9N07UFSxo/s1600/IMG_20130420_115906_755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFJMPBr-ZzTnlgyYR9TG28tlVoPy79rzJv6X8aRN_8g6UeEE-lzFIJZ5EdZ4NKhxzvR7Q7xQhZPLZhCPlcManKtRf_cuBbyeG1dVyQaWv52BR9Yk9ULPddI7_No3nJGqXqn9N07UFSxo/s400/IMG_20130420_115906_755.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i>The real treasures got dumped on the floor momentarily in order to uncover the princess party treasure.></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvfyjpRbVab1aTDqiBuxouFXL-mm9HxCJ6JZny5beD2TykBIirYhQWuLIbrbad7b2r59SF3DewxfnUHv9rBDJJBgwjSMH3wo70P3XMzqqoGsxFHF24EheFvF5XAK61CMu-tQ4BXK1kJw/s1600/IMG_20130420_113500_938.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvfyjpRbVab1aTDqiBuxouFXL-mm9HxCJ6JZny5beD2TykBIirYhQWuLIbrbad7b2r59SF3DewxfnUHv9rBDJJBgwjSMH3wo70P3XMzqqoGsxFHF24EheFvF5XAK61CMu-tQ4BXK1kJw/s400/IMG_20130420_113500_938.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<<i>After the party, the birthday banner doubled as a volleyball net for several days. And some of the most competitive action I've ever seen amongst my children commenced right here in my living room. They made me be ref.></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvVbpFwJ1fHoUnXYUfzDtJngAimeIhDYqdKoiIvbIf_4bwF_tgPWY_KUAMSnSvokh9fqkhY-L-I4rfO3cvnTZHtZnSVcqsjxlpVFP8X5j92i0aHvvRUbKk9f9KTdJVfIn1nMiXsme05k/s1600/IMG_20130420_141353_545.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvVbpFwJ1fHoUnXYUfzDtJngAimeIhDYqdKoiIvbIf_4bwF_tgPWY_KUAMSnSvokh9fqkhY-L-I4rfO3cvnTZHtZnSVcqsjxlpVFP8X5j92i0aHvvRUbKk9f9KTdJVfIn1nMiXsme05k/s400/IMG_20130420_141353_545.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i><Allison received the above statue (unpainted) as a birthday gift from one of her friends. I have no explanation for the green face.></i></div>
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<span style="font-style: italic;"><Spring is here. We finally dug out flip flops and Sunday sandals...and if you give a girl her sandals, she'll use her tippy-toes to reach the perfect polish.> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwC7lPYt5pD3i6AAXydoX8xVFYmLnwlTO4ckAuHq0ZZivwY8yeRf7Vk-2RBI2EDv3FEaB5s8YmnngCyyd-jMeC_Mrf4ieAOTOCvQZtn49UT2utqnJxIR2vVcBlDjA3sxuNkT-HGvlEWA/s1600/IMG_20130421_083928_444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFwC7lPYt5pD3i6AAXydoX8xVFYmLnwlTO4ckAuHq0ZZivwY8yeRf7Vk-2RBI2EDv3FEaB5s8YmnngCyyd-jMeC_Mrf4ieAOTOCvQZtn49UT2utqnJxIR2vVcBlDjA3sxuNkT-HGvlEWA/s400/IMG_20130421_083928_444.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-5Vt0QTMMGBOKyWR9IZJq7xxGdqMRNHawt4uJNFjSQnkykokHMdPeADKmwHrAfRvk8u3FCOpjqF_YfqWPY5u4UoFDPgzlOEcXbE5_R4ZOsC4wpjBFJ_0ck7je25xCvt1dz75jyfzwot4/s1600/IMG_20130421_084158_191.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-5Vt0QTMMGBOKyWR9IZJq7xxGdqMRNHawt4uJNFjSQnkykokHMdPeADKmwHrAfRvk8u3FCOpjqF_YfqWPY5u4UoFDPgzlOEcXbE5_R4ZOsC4wpjBFJ_0ck7je25xCvt1dz75jyfzwot4/s400/IMG_20130421_084158_191.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<<i>above photo by Cienna.></i><br />
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<i><With spring in the air, Mother Nature helped us enjoy math, spelling, grammar, and bike repair.></i></div>
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<<i>I so love adult places that know how to get inside a child's mind. It's always a worthwhile journey.></i></div>
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<i><Kirsti spontaneously emptied and scrubbed one of our kitchen drawers. I just stayed out of her way.></i></div>
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<i><On our first trip to the park this spring, Allison wondered if she still remembered how to swing. Sure enough...she pumped away for almost an hour straight. Memory cells are awesome. </i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAgeHiHoXndx2eUjmxnnIX_1Ya0CGnK3qRdeo7OWI4zuElPh1xci_1m5bvZIB4UcB2hWrrrBmplbR28AM32azOah5S-HnHoUvU72NnTlo5UVMKJ_UJTl7yBwjyXWe3p8dkRhME5DVXDc/s1600/IMG_20130420_171125_393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAgeHiHoXndx2eUjmxnnIX_1Ya0CGnK3qRdeo7OWI4zuElPh1xci_1m5bvZIB4UcB2hWrrrBmplbR28AM32azOah5S-HnHoUvU72NnTlo5UVMKJ_UJTl7yBwjyXWe3p8dkRhME5DVXDc/s400/IMG_20130420_171125_393.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Kenny...waiting for the Aerobie to float his way...neurons in charge of patience are pretty nice, too.</i></div>
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<i>That's the cute guy who ran around the park with all my kids on a chilly evening...pushing swings, diving for Aerobies, playing tag. I think I'm going to wink at him and ask him for a date.></i><br />
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<<i>Breakfast for two.></i></div>
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<i><Allison is my gardener. She saves every seed she can find. Such potential those seeds store in them.></i></div>
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<i><Diggy decided to memorize the parts of a neuron. Smart boy...he knows how to make his mother proud.> </i></div>
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<i><And the girls will get to neurons someday. I won't lose faith.></i></div>
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<i><Kenny was a busy man this week. He juggled school work, tech week for the middle school musical (he was Mulan's father and a soldier and the envy of many female friends who tried to corner him on 'Which one of us dooo you like?!'...talk about time consuming), dress rehearsals for choir, scouts, church basketball and luckily soccer got rained out.> </i><br />
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<i><"Where's MaryAnn? Does anyone see her? I can't find her anywhere...Is she in the cupboard? No. Is she under the table? No. I'll keep looking..."></i></div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-49897548916403251532013-04-26T08:21:00.001-07:002020-03-18T15:40:34.337-07:00Accountability Stage Education: Set and Accomplish Goals<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">Under normal development, the brain makes some significant changes around age 7 or 8. Though certainly not fully mature, the brain seems much more complete.</span> </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">With a solid attachment in place and years of blissful, innocent discoveries under the belt, a new phase of life begins. Memory and consciousness and logic and reasoning and emotional stability all seem to come together on a more consistent basis in the human brain to create an awareness that life does not just exist in this lovely or even terrible moment...but it continues on into the future. <i>My</i> existence and Future Time's existence are one and the same. </span></span></b></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">(For additional reading, I found a great article about </span><a href="http://www.education.com/magazine/article/Lucky_7_How/" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">"Lucky Age 7"</a><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> over at education.com.)</span><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">At our house, we change up our educational style around age 7 or 8 or 9 to meet our child's new, more realistic views about the world and the future, and how to be a part of both.</span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">We call it the Accountability Stage.</span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remember that during the younger years when the mind is mastering how to live in each magical moment, our educational goals are centered around inspiring our children, but are not at all driven by a parental desire to make them feel accountable for certain learning during a certain time period. (See <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/following-stage-education-mimic-million.html" target="_blank">this post</a>.)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Accountability Stage is different. </span><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kids over 8-ish have a mature enough brain now to begin to see that planning for the future is also a key to happiness. And they have some logical connections that show them that acting for themselves (instead of merely being acted upon) can change their future. Because of these natural neurological changes, and if kids have not developed self-defensive walls to protect themselves against the burden of pre-mature accountability that many parents/teachers mistakenly push on them, kids <i>will</i> willingly choose to use their newly improving <a href="http://www.hhs.gov/opa/familylife/tech_assistance/etraining/adolescent_brain/Development/prefrontal_cortex/" target="_blank">prefrontal cortex</a> to take on more personal responsibility because they want to. In other words, as parents, we slowly <i>begin</i> shifting accountability to their shoulders during this stage because their brains are ready to take it without being forced or tricked into it. </span></span></b></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Placing the weight of sole accountability on their shoulders can destroy their self-worth during the younger years. But now, accountability can build them up and make them stronger. They are ready to feel empowered by accountability because their brains are ripe for it.</span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here's a list of our primary educational goals for this stage:</span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Accountability Stage (ages 7-12)</b></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;">1. You are responsible for how your body acts. You can control your body.</b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;">2. Natural consequences accompany your choices.</b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;">3. You can recognize and accept your strengths and weaknesses.</b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;">4. Repairing wrongs promotes progress.</b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;">5. Choosing to set and accomplish goals brings joy (and because kids are pretty logical at this age, they notice, of course, that the opposite is also true).</b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Academic goals are still secondary, but fit very nicely into helping us teach the above important life-lessons.</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though Accountability Stage learning doesn't fit completely into the educational "box" created by most industrialized countries to educate children by the masses, it might look and feel a little more familiar to the average modern parent (compared to education during the Attachment and Following Stages at least). </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When to Start the Accountability Stage</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When kids begin to step from fantasy land ("I'm going to learn to fly and go to Jupiter!") into reality ("How do astronauts get to the moon?) then we know they are getting close to the Accountability Stage. We wait for questions like "What do I have to do to become an astronaut?"..."What's college?"..."When will I go to college?"..."How do I go to college?" Or when they start taking serious (not just curious) note about the cost of living ("Why <i>can't</i> I have a cell phone?")...the time has come for an accountability chat. We casually start to explain that hard work and educational success make a big difference in someone's future--and in their ability to text their friends some day. We share our thoughts on preparedness and self-reliance and the joy of being able to serve others more when our own life is in order. </span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course we also tell them that </span><i style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">choosing</i><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> a solid educational path does lots of good for the ol' prefrontal cortex. So we want the decision to be theirs...not ours. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we make it clear by our words and our actions that we truly accept them and support them at whatever educational pace they take in life.</span></span></div>
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<b>Mentor Meetings</b><br />
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There are probably as many ways to implement the Accountability Stage as there are families out there.<br />
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But here's how we do it:<br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we feel like our child truly understands and wants to take accountability, we hold regular one-on-one mentor meetings (usually on Sunday evenings, but sometimes during a parent/child random date) where we begin to set up a weekly goal plan that involves the child willingly accepting accountability for accomplishing more rigorous academic goals that we recommend for them</span></span></b><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> (weekly spelling lists, grammar assignments and tests, formal math assignments, etc). They know the goals are intended to </span></span></b><b style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">prepare them for something <i>they</i> want...like college or a future career or the increased ability to earn money. Thus, they choose to accept the weekly challenge. </span></span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">They trust our academic recommendations because of all those years we spent at the bottom of <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/pyramid" target="_blank">The Pyramid</a>, which ripened their brains and our relationship for these critical accountability years. And they can certainly sense if we truly have <i>their</i> best interests in mind as opposed to merely settling our own worries/fears/frustrations that they might become miserable failures in this world if we can't pound accountability into their brains. They will naturally defend themselves from us and our motives if their brains detect any selfishness coming towards them...and we don't want that. </span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">If they are in need of money, we could agree to give them an allowance in return for accomplishing their goals. This gives them a chance to begin reaping the benefits of managing their own time AND money. But tying money to goal accomplishment isn't always an effective motivator and in fact can demotivate, so we only do so if the child maturely feels the connection between accomplishing goals and self-reliance. We encourage them on their road to self-reliance by helping them manage their finances--with a spending and savings account--and ultimately allow them final decision-making ability on their spending account. In other words, they begin to earn and spend their own money as a natural reward for choosing to take on more personal responsibility. </span></span></b></div>
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<span id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>My Accountability Stage kids keep track of their weekly goals using this chart or an assignment notebook</b> (the younger kids use it for fun and Kenny no longer uses it because he's on to the next stage and his own way of tracking things):</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">The colorful cards are "goal cards" representing about 15-30 minutes of mastery in a specific subject (spelling, reading, math, science, piano practice, etc.). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">Each child has two rows. </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">A child's top row contains all of his/her goals for an entire week. We discuss and agree upon weekly goals during the mentor-meeting. As parents, we do our homework to figure out a good path for a particular child, but we also like to get their ideas. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">The child's bottom row is a place for each child to choose how to personalize his/her daily schedule. Each child is different. Diggy likes to do more on Mon/Tues and be completely done by Thursday, so Friday is always a free day. Kenny loves symmetry, and used to have Wed. as his busiest day without any completely free days. Sometimes a child lumps all of one subject into one day. Sometimes a child procrastinates and goals pile up as the week goes on. Sometimes a child doesn't finish his/her goals.</span></li>
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<span id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I love that they get to experiment and choose for themselves what floats their boat. Granting them agency is such an important part of our "system" because it builds prefrontal cortex power and it creates a strong internal motivation that lasts much longer and takes them much farther than the effects of traditional carrots and sticks.</span></span></b></b></b></b></span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">At this stage, many of the subjects can be done independently because the child can read and figure a lot out on his/her own, but I still try to spend a good 60 minutes supporting each child in his/her most challenging subjects. When a subject is finished, the goal card goes back in the gathering place at the very top again. Their rows slowly empty out as the week goes on and they fill back up on Sunday evening in prep for the upcoming week. I glance at the chart all the time to see what each child has left to accomplish in a given day...to see what help I might be able to give. If I feel particularly bothered that a child isn't' accomplishing his/her goals, I take special note that I need to peacefully unload some emotional baggage so my "helpfulness" doesn't get thrown at my child as nagging.</span></span></b></b></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We discuss the previous week in the next mentor meeting. If they don't accomplish all of their goals...they don't get paid as much. </span></span></b><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We like them to somewhat judge themselves after reflecting on how their week went. "How much do you think you earned?" We find that they are often harder on themselves than we would be. Then</span></span></b><b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> we gently make the final call because they understand and accept that they are accountable to us during this stage of their lives. And we don't discuss payment amounts with siblings. It's personal for each child.</span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">If they don't care about getting paid...that's okay. It probably just means that they really aren't that ready for the Accountability Stage yet...which is really okay. So we just go back to the <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/following-stage-education-mimic-million.html" target="_blank">Following Stage</a> for awhile (without getting mad at them for being lazy). If they start the Accountability Stage and then want to stop and then want to start again and then want to stop...etc. That's okay, too. Kids usually dabble in and out of a stage before truly moving upward for good. (And I actually don't know very many adults who learn a new truth and then act perfectly every time after that forever...we're all dabblers. </span></span></b><b style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It has to do with brain chemistry. It's normal and very natural. We're all taking baby steps.</span></span></b><b style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">)</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We find that our kids truly enjoy being stewards over their own time and money. To help them feel successful at this, we have to let them spend on what they want to spend and we have to not spend our own money on them whenever they want us to. I'm pretty good at splurging on them for Christmas and birthdays while saying, "Sure, do you have money in your account to pay for that?" throughout the rest of the year. We also continuously live and teach the principles found at <a href="http://providentliving.org./">ProvidentLiving.org.</a> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We use the above chart to keep track of rotating chores as well. That's a topic for another time, but essentially the Accountability Stage and up kids are responsible for completing chores all on their own. They do a great job because they are ready to be responsible. If they don't do a great job, they are also ready to shoulder the consequence for that on their own. All of the younger ones get help from Mom or Dad if they need it (which if the job takes more than 5 minutes...um yeah). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 16.99652862548828px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I thought it might be helpful to "see" a couple of Accountability Stage examples:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>*Please keep in mind that we've been at this for several years. Just like anything, learning the ropes for everything you see below took lots of focused time and energy together for many months. But now it feels like a relatively well-oiled machine (most of the time...and the bigger challenge now is to not idle on automatic pilot...for very long). And the focused attention it took (and still takes) on my part, is worth every minute of bonding and brain growth that my children and I/Brent have jointly received in return. I wouldn't trade those minutes, months, and years for anything.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">*a goal card represents roughly 20-30 minutes of work for Diggy (some cards take a little more time, some take a little less) </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">**Diggy works hard on his academic goals for about 3-5 hours a day. He likes to start by 7 am and finish around lunchtime </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">(well before the hustle and bustle of the evening hours, which I LOVE!) </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15;">so he has plenty of time to play all afternoon and can easily enjoy family time or a scheduled activity in the evening. I help or work alongside Diggy for about 40 minutes a day and spend another 15 minutes reviewing things he's finished. He puts a lot of pressure on himself to finish all of his goals every week. He always does.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Reading: 5 goal cards. </i>He's currently enjoying the Little House series (I think he's on book 5 or 6) and dreams of building his own log cabin some day...after chopping down his own trees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Writing: 4 goal cards. </i>We worked on a writing program together for several of his younger years. We both loved it. This year, I've turned him loose to write his own stories. His spelling and grammar are far from perfect (he's very right-brained and doesn't memorize details easily), but he's having a blast and documenting some very creative 10-year-old boy thoughts. As the year comes to a close, he's using two of his writing goal cards each week to brush up on his outlining and writing prompt skills. I grabbed some sample prompts from <a href="http://www.thewritesource.com/evaluwrite/grade5_prompt.html" target="_blank">this site</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Spelling: 8 goal cards. </i>A chapter a week in Spelling Workout E. I'll have to write a post sometime about how spelling has been both a challenge and a triumph for Diggy (especially after watching his left-brained older brother breeze through advanced spelling in his sleep). Because it was typical for Diggy to get nearly half of his words wrong come test time a couple of years ago when he first started the Accountability Stage, he voluntarily decided to increase his goals cards for this subject. He's been a trooper. And his hard work is paying off. 100% is the norm now.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Math: 5 goal cards. </i>He uses <a href="http://www.thatquiz.org/">www.thatquiz.org</a> to review math facts once a week. He's also been working in Saxon 76 for most of the year and just recently started conquering chapters of Saxon 87. Sometimes this feels tedious, but he's persevering because he's old enough to understand that math is critical for accomplishing his future college dreams.</span></span></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>History: 3 goal cards.</i> I think history is Diggy's favorite subject. He begs for it all summer long...probably because we always pop a big bowl of popcorn, set it in the middle of the kitchen table, and devour it while I read from <a href="http://peacehillpress.com/history-and-geography/story-of-the-world.html" target="_blank">this series</a> or from a library book or two. This happens 2-3 times per week around 4 pm (if you'd like to join us!). Diggy also reads library books on his own and occasionally gets his army and knight guys out to have a battle.</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Geography: 2 goal cards.</i> Diggy loves maps. He uses <a href="http://www.thatquiz.org/">www.thatquiz.org</a> for memory work, but mostly likes to look up whatever country we're talking about in history on the map that hangs on our kitchen wall. He asked for that map as a birthday present two years ago...because he really likes maps.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Science: 3 goal cards. </i>He still studies whatever subjects he's interested in at this age...mostly using library books. Lately he's been memorizing the Periodic Table and parts of cells using <a href="http://www.thatquiz.org/">www.thatquiz.org</a> (can you tell we like that site?). Earlier this year he drew pictures of all sorts of living creatures and organized them by kingdom, phylum, etc. on our family room wall. He stopped awhile ago. But he may go back to that project...there's still some wall space left. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Typing: 2 goal cards.</i> He uses <a href="http://www.customtyping.com/">www.customtyping.com</a> which is paid for through our public school district. It's a personalized progressive program. We like it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Chinese, PE, Music: 2 goal cards each.</i> He attends the local public elementary school. We love them over there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Piano practice: 5 goal cards.</i> He's an intermediate player and doesn't take lessons. He can figure out how to play something on his own. He chooses hymns and other songs to practice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Trumpet practice: 5 goal cards.</i> His teacher at school assigns stuff.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Extras: </i>Running club, Boy Scouts, Children's Choir, church choir, band, playing Legos</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">*a goal card represents roughly 10-20 minutes of work for Kirsti (I'm a big believer in giving new Accountability Stage kids as much play time as possible while still helping them feel successful at taking responsibility for setting goals and accomplishing them. As a teacher, m</span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15.555556297302246px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;">y goal is to keep hard-core academic learning to less than 2 hours a day at first (often closer to 1 hour). </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">If they aren't begging to do more school work, I keep it slim. She'll ease into a bigger workload as she gets older and more mature.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">**Kirsti works hard on her academic goals for about 2-3 hours a day (including music practice and fun science projects). She's at the beginning of learning to organize her time and she experiments with a variety of ways to do this. But the important thing is that she's driving the train...not me. I'm just a supporter. I help her with about 1/2 of her goals (which takes me about 60 minutes each day). </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Reading: 5 goal cards.</i> Learning to read felt challenging and slow for Kirsti (especially because Kenny is a HUGE reader and Allison and Cienna are coming up behind her on a rapid learning-to-read pace). But after a few years of me reading to her a lot, guiding her through simple, steady progress, and being patient while her detailed, task-oriented left-brain catches up with her whole-thought, creative right brain, she's off to the races now...and I recently heard her say for the first time, "I love reading!" as she grabbed a book to curl up on the couch during her spare time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Grammar: 4 goal cards.</i> Kirsti and I do <a href="http://peacehillpress.com/language-arts/grammar.html" target="_blank">First Language Lessons 4 </a>together. She likes sentence diagramming the most. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Writing: 4 goal cards.</i> We work on <a href="http://peacehillpress.com/language-arts/writing.html" target="_blank">Writing With Ease 3</a> together on some days. On other days she works on a story that she's writing about kids who live in a log cabin and play in the woods. </span></span></div>
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<span id="internal-source-marker_0.12767505180090666"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Spelling: 4 goal cards. </i>She works on a chapter a week in Spelling Workout C. Kirsti feels about the same with spelling as Diggy used to. Learning to memorize the right order for things just doesn't come naturally for my out-of-the-box thinking kids. I'm glad we can work at an individual pace.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Math: 5 goal cards.</i> Kirsti uses a workbook from <a href="http://www.criticalthinking.com/searchByNeed.do?code=c&catalog=c&catalog2=c&categories=bs&subjects=m&gradeLevel=99&x=24&y=6&code2=c&catalog3=c" target="_blank">Critical Thinking Company</a> for most of her math assignments. She likes it because it's intended for gifted thinkers, so it's not too repetitive, but it's also challenging. I like it because there's no prep needed on my part. I feel comfortable that she's reviewing lots of important math concepts in a fun way. Memorizing math facts are also a big part of math at the beginning of the Accountability Stage. Kirsti uses flash cards or <a href="http://www.thatquiz.org/">www.thatquiz.org</a> or one of the millions of online math games out there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Geography: 2 goal cards.</i> Kirsti uses <a href="http://thatquiz.org/">www.thatquiz.org</a> to learn the 50 states and their capitals. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , serif;"><i>Science: 3 goal cards.</i> She studies whatever subjects she's interested
in...mostly using library books. Earlier this year she drew pictures to
contribute to Diggy's animal wall. This last week, we planted some flowers and
will be tracking their growth. And caterpillars will be coming in the mail soon. Can't wait.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Typing: 3 goal cards.</i> She uses <a href="http://www.customtyping.com/">www.customtyping.com</a> which is paid for through our public school district. It's a personalized progressive program. We like it. Deja-vu.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , serif;"><i>PE, Music: 2 goal cards each.</i> She attends the local public elementary
school. Awesome teachers over there.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , serif;"><i>Piano practice: 5 goal cards</i>. She can figure out songs on her own. I give her guidance occasionally. She's not doing a formal program. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , serif;">She's working on easy-to-play hymns these days. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , serif;"><i>Violin practice: 5 goal cards. </i>This is an area where Kirsti really excels. She's been taking Suzuki private lessons for 3 1/2 years now. She practices for about 30 minutes a day and learns new pieces relatively quickly. She likes to practice when her Dad is relaxing in the rocking chair at the end of the day so he can soak in her beautiful music.</span></div>
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<i>Extras</i>: Violin Repertoire, gymnastics, activity days for girls 8-11 at church, church choir<br />
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</span>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-14612875468210200542013-04-25T07:23:00.002-07:002013-04-25T20:46:39.356-07:00Kirsti's Quilt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Time. Inspiration. Mentors. Creativity. Service. Connections.</div>
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These are the staples in our home educational "system." If we don't create time on our calendars and space in our home for these family ideals...what good does learning to read and calculate do for us anyways?</div>
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Back before Christmas, my right-brained girl who prefers creating something--anything--with her hands over conquering page after page in a workbook declared her desire to learn how to crochet. She'd been eyeing Sister F. at church who sits a few pews in front of us and has a new project on her lap each week. Kirsti's heart and mind were mature enough to magnetically notice and feel moved in a new direction. </div>
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I couldn't really relate. </div>
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But there was a sparkle in Kirsti's eyes that caught my attention. (It reminded me of that bursting feeling I get when I'm on the hunt for a unanswered brain question...there's no use thinking about something else.) So I freed her from my expectations of math, spelling, grammar, and writing for a day and sat back to watch her...and learn from her.</div>
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She gathered some yarn and a crochet hook that I'd had stashed away in a dark corner (but little girls memorize where to find creativity) and she Googled 'How to Crochet' and 'How to Hand Knit'. She studied the videos with intensity and fumbled with the yarn between her fingers for several minutes...then an hour.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTDLZOlxJERVpcSjcyJDBv7HI2v6Tc9bbWX1cWuZwiI2W1UdjMztKmAAyBHEOpe7vyRin1Zhsp11-gT8giKIrwgCUzya39ucZYKU5NL6iE_o18eqy6CbcSqkXaXRuNrofVyZLv0D7Tac/s1600/2012-10-15_09-41-23_82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTDLZOlxJERVpcSjcyJDBv7HI2v6Tc9bbWX1cWuZwiI2W1UdjMztKmAAyBHEOpe7vyRin1Zhsp11-gT8giKIrwgCUzya39ucZYKU5NL6iE_o18eqy6CbcSqkXaXRuNrofVyZLv0D7Tac/s640/2012-10-15_09-41-23_82.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViMlT8SRrid7KDyjHbDLCMXxHIs9SHFw57QDdmyand9Sl1o3mLjDhuCcvVkFLJkdirEuXruwcy3rqFEEPUYPabVWih7qRaKBosNVPIwtWtj8CTBuSLuoPpgYG8MW__zFy7CYJXiWaBLs/s1600/2012-10-15_09-41-43_243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViMlT8SRrid7KDyjHbDLCMXxHIs9SHFw57QDdmyand9Sl1o3mLjDhuCcvVkFLJkdirEuXruwcy3rqFEEPUYPabVWih7qRaKBosNVPIwtWtj8CTBuSLuoPpgYG8MW__zFy7CYJXiWaBLs/s640/2012-10-15_09-41-43_243.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGihbxP_YpJcy55ONKHQwa10tWE0X1NgU3R6sXZ2hcPeTSA8mqMSZwVlFpg02qe0HqpewRLNLmT4Fz52JyBHo7VQ58r4N9MX78uDWUPz3HGXve0BgRQJmQzatNEA_XOBpat5sQYT6dZMI/s1600/2012-10-15_09-41-57_960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGihbxP_YpJcy55ONKHQwa10tWE0X1NgU3R6sXZ2hcPeTSA8mqMSZwVlFpg02qe0HqpewRLNLmT4Fz52JyBHo7VQ58r4N9MX78uDWUPz3HGXve0BgRQJmQzatNEA_XOBpat5sQYT6dZMI/s640/2012-10-15_09-41-57_960.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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When enthusiasm didn't die out after the first few simple knots and stitches, we called Sister H., a crocheting mastermind who lives many of her hours in bed due to hip, back, and shoulder aches and pains. We asked her for a lesson...then two...then four. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusw4hfUIYpKNP87bZ92nrl9an7x15dOt70VEGAbpAVZs_H9w-9Id838azul6dOqUB1gHiTwuWdpY90HwdbrFXH1Q59mXCNldR_hWigmFOcWYGiuTZ019DBWtgEHkbSdbBOSnp5-HDqbY/s1600/2013-02-19_07-48-25_830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusw4hfUIYpKNP87bZ92nrl9an7x15dOt70VEGAbpAVZs_H9w-9Id838azul6dOqUB1gHiTwuWdpY90HwdbrFXH1Q59mXCNldR_hWigmFOcWYGiuTZ019DBWtgEHkbSdbBOSnp5-HDqbY/s640/2013-02-19_07-48-25_830.jpg" width="360" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sz4ZBlgJ7uzOcueOiyO2Ms8Rtd7MlDDaoHaj-C_7td6ur32qcxhr-0lVcEVYEq_18D0ICohc1dFYdIL5Ds6siLyIKSGfwgzmJ74jqMls1RkPNFA0LwyI0dpLbe_SNV0n3iUXkAtin8U/s1600/2013-02-19_07-47-57_333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sz4ZBlgJ7uzOcueOiyO2Ms8Rtd7MlDDaoHaj-C_7td6ur32qcxhr-0lVcEVYEq_18D0ICohc1dFYdIL5Ds6siLyIKSGfwgzmJ74jqMls1RkPNFA0LwyI0dpLbe_SNV0n3iUXkAtin8U/s640/2013-02-19_07-47-57_333.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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She likes Kirsti's company and youthful enthusiasm. Kirsti is thrilled to have a new super-talented friend. </div>
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After a few months...they decided to crochet a quilt together. Kirsti made about 4 squares of the quilt all by herself. Sister H. made the other 16-ish. They tied off loose ends together one day.</div>
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When finished, Kirsti presented the masterpiece to a 14-year-old girl from church who has a terminal disease called Batten's Disease. She is blind, mute, wheelchair bound, and very sweet. We love her and her family.<br />
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In the end (which actually feels more like a beginning), I'm pretty glad that my routine spelling and math agenda stayed on the shelf for a day, so Kirsti could take the time to stitch together more of who <i>she </i>is. I simply watched who my daughter is and continue to marvel at who she is becoming.<br />
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She is not me. She is not anyone else. She is her own incredible, beautiful self.<br />
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And I'm pretty sure that the world will be a better place not so much because of the good people I may try to mold my children into, but because of the divine blossoms that are already inside them waiting to bloom...if I can just give them some fertile ground, clean water, and lots of sunshine.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-48211718169027769142013-04-20T05:11:00.001-07:002020-03-18T05:58:56.678-07:00So what exactly DID we do this week?Sometimes it's hard to picture what a homeschool family does all day.<br />
Sometimes Friday comes along and I, too, wonder<i> </i>if the past days' hours and minutes were well spent.<br />
Sometime I think yes.<br />
Sometimes I think no. <br />
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And sometimes I feel like sharing a bit of what occurs when I give my children time and space to explore and create. Keep in mind that the <i>wonder</i> you'll see below could only happen because I intentionally limit planned academic rigor to just a few minutes a day for my kids under age 8 and maybe to an hour or two a day for the older ones. So here's a collection of this week's moments. I'm positive they were well worth adding to my children's long list of life experiences AND developed their brains just as they needed:<br />
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<<i>The Boys went on a campout last Friday night. So the girls dug out their tea sets. Naturally.</i></div>
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<i>It started simple...and grew...until it resembled a full blown Fancy Nancy party that included costumes. </i></div>
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<i>My girls hosted. I just played along.></i></div>
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<i><above pic by Cienna></i></div>
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<i><For the other half of the day that the Boys were gone, I unveiled a shrinky-dink fairy kit that I'd purchased at JoAnn's back on Black Friday and was saving for a rainy day.</i></div>
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<i>For $10 (or whatever I paid for it), entertainment ensued from 2pm until bedtime and into the next day. Our new fairy friends even liked what we ate for dinner and picked the bedtime story.></i></div>
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<<i>I loved this book when I was a kid, too!></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aq4-ahJc88HnuF5P4bmCwFWqRUJy9H3SrlBa5QpgvxrEFNOj42nPuW9RiVvpxqAQ62-_OklA58KGJrI_KDgdAV-nYKTx3gHdnY8pf0_Nyp-W9RgrCH_kwRKeQq_SZF-TCqEwkgtKcU0/s1600/IMG_20130410_144552_297.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aq4-ahJc88HnuF5P4bmCwFWqRUJy9H3SrlBa5QpgvxrEFNOj42nPuW9RiVvpxqAQ62-_OklA58KGJrI_KDgdAV-nYKTx3gHdnY8pf0_Nyp-W9RgrCH_kwRKeQq_SZF-TCqEwkgtKcU0/s400/IMG_20130410_144552_297.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i><After studied detailed YouTube clips, Kenny mastered the 4x4. Well done.></i></div>
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<i><We discovered Spring's first blossoms.></i></div>
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<i><Diggy tested out the walking stick he'd carved last fall. It still works.></i></div>
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<<i>Diggy took the younger girls outside for some fresh air. They created a skit together. After showing me, they bowed and I clapped.></i></div>
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<i><Cienna tested out her running shoes...and discovered that they make her run so fast she gets out of breath.></i></div>
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<<i>And then it rained and rained and rained. Our back yard became a pool for worms to gather for a Spring party.></i> </div>
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<i><Brent had a few projects on his list...some swords for the musical Kenny is in next week, the leaky kitchen faucet, the front door lock...and so the kids were of course glued to his side. Especially Kirsti this week. She even helped him clean out a friend's flooded basement for several hours after all that rain.></i></div>
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<i><Kirsti also participated in an awesome 3rd grade show led by the fabulous music teacher at the elementary school. They did 3 performances. She sang a beautiful solo.></i></div>
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<i><Cienna felt proud of her progress on controlling the big red punching balloon.></i></div>
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<i><We made good use of the library books.></i></div>
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<<i>Allison displayed intense interest in copying Diggy's long division work...number by number, line by line. The next day, I explained to her what division is. She asked lots of questions and wanted to write down some real problems of her own. We acted out 12 divided by 4 and 4 divided by 2, etc. She was thrilled. The next day, she wanted to do it again. So we did. I observed about 20 future math lessons soak deeper into her brain cells than if I had tried to push them in...all because she had been inspired by big brother, Diggy, <a href="http://www.smithmoments.org/2013/04/following-stage-education-mimic-million.html" target="_blank">a mentor</a>. And it only took about 15 minutes.> </i></div>
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<i><MaryAnn practiced making faces.></i></div>
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<i><With a dismantled kitchen faucet, we washed dishes the Little House way. We had to carry buckets of water all the way from the creek (the bathtub), scrub by hand, and carefully dry everything using towels. Allison declared this activity as her favorite thing she's ever done in her entire life.></i></div>
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<i><I sensed a migraine coming right before the dinner hour while Brent was away from the nest one day (my eyes get blurry about 15 minutes before the intense pain hits so I know it's coming), so I *snuck* up to the bathroom to soak my feet in hot water. A few minutes later, Kirsti took the above picture for me. I felt like Mrs. Large from one of my favorite books.></i></div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5104633360557439520.post-19479784858782906962013-04-12T21:10:00.002-07:002020-03-18T13:12:41.383-07:00Following Stage Education: Mimic A Million Mentors<b id="internal-source-marker_0.6359888256993145" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think educating the <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/education" target="_blank">Following Stagers</a> (ages 1-8) is my favorite. Watching them burst with enthusiasm gives me goose bumps just thinking about it. </span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.6359888256993145" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Starting around age 12 months, children's brains are much more awakened to the world around them. They not only keenly observe details with an intensity that most adults have difficulty matching, but their steady increase in brain capacity allows them to innocently and easily mimic the sights and sounds that they absorb so naturally. If we don't squish this natural ability with our teaching intentions and disciplinary tactics, children remain motivated to far surpass the learning we could ever dream of trying to cram into them. </span></b></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With this in mind, our primary educational tactic for our children ages 1 until about 8-years-old is to actively inspire them with mentors. That's it.</span></b></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One who is capable of accomplishing something can be a mentor. Essentially there is something to learn from anyone or anything anywhere in the universe...parents, siblings, grandparents, cousins, musicians, soldiers, gymnasts, artists, actors, jugglers, chimpanzees, ants, blue whales, waterfalls, volcanoes, solar systems... Real life is ideal (the brain soaks in more), but <i>YouTube</i> is a fabulous resource as well. When our minds are openly, but intensely focused and in tune to something or someone, so much learning is accomplished. Children are naturally so so good at this. I see it every day at our house.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here's a brief list of what we</span><span style="font-size: large; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> DO to educate our children ages 1-8:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*keep in mind...by sharing what we do, we don't wish to declare that our way is best for all. every family is different. but if you read or see something that strikes a happy chord, feel free to create some music of your own with it. </span></b><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">much of our inspiration has come after observing other families after all. i truly believe that </span></b><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">every family can be inspired on their own unique path. </span></b></span><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Basically, to "teach" during this stage, we simply introduce our children to positive mentors and our children's minds take care of the rest. </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To explain in more detail, Brent and I...</span></b><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">1.</span><i style="font-size: 15.555556297302246px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Study hard</i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">. During the first couple of years of homeschooling, I spent most of my personal free time after the kids went to bed studying educational philosophies, curriculum, and teaching ideas so I could figure out what my kids needed to learn and how to teach it. (I've been inspired by the book <a href="http://www.welltrainedmind.com/" target="_blank">The Well-Trained Mind</a> and anything <a href="http://www.tjed.org/" target="_blank">Thomas Jefferson Education</a> or Montessori.) This sounds tedious, but I found it to be incredibly enlightening and uplifting. I couldn't wait to wake up the next day and bond with my children in a new way and observe how my new knowledge fit into our family. After a few years, I'm certainly not a pro, but teaching phonics and long division feels likes cookin' up a familiar recipe these days...toss in a little of this, a little of that, let simmer...all without having to dig out the cookbook.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">2.<i> Be a positive mentor.</i> We, as parents, are obviously our children's first mentors. It is such a privilege. Our big parenting job is to be a good example of whatever we want them to learn. Their systems are naturally set up to want to hang out with us during the younger years (so we do a lot of that...and sometimes it feels like an eternity!)...and copy us. They watch carefully as we comb our hair, brush our teeth, talk on the phone, prepare our meals, and place each leg into our pajamas at night. Then they courageously try it too. I get all tingly inside every time I notice their mimicking efforts. It's so genuine, it fills me up every time. Before long we're counting by tens, singing the alphabet song, spelling words, sharing historical stories, making scientific discoveries, and discussing brains all while playing and working together. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>*I just had to add another nostalgic photo of Brent and the Boys (ages 3 and 2).*</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">If we notice an area intelligence or behavior where our children are lacking (it could be anything from telling time to picking their noses) then first, we<i> try</i> not to freak out (unless it's a highly-threatening situation). Instead, we strive to peacefully notice a weakness and put it on our list of things to ponder. We earnestly seek inspiration for how to inspire progress in that particular child on that particular topic. Answers always come when we seek them with the intention to nurture an innocent child--as opposed to seeking answers to settle our own frustrated and disgruntled parental feelings because our child's behavior bothers us. Then when we spend time with that child in coming days, months, and years, we use our energy to implement the inspiration that came into our hearts and minds. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">3. <i>Lead them down purposeful paths.</i> If we know where we're headed and our children are happily following along, we can wisely lead them in directions that will have positive impact on their lives. Inspiring these young ones is not a passive pursuit, but a very active endeavor that keeps us on our toes (and keeps us using our prefrontal cortex...Yeah!!). On the academic front, during the Following Stage years (pre-K through 3rd grade-ish), I consciously try to spend about 20-60 minutes each day helping my child(ren) gain skills in reading, writing, and math. Many times this is done without the child even knowing that we're doing "school"...for them it feels like play time or snuggle on the couch and read with Mom time. <a href="http://countingcoconuts.blogspot.com/2010/04/all-things-montessori.html" target="_blank">Montessori methods</a> work great for this. For writing and grammar lessons, these books (<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Complete-Writer-Writing-Ease/dp/193333925X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365215226&sr=8-1&keywords=writing+with+ease" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/First-Language-Lessons-Well-Trained-Mind/dp/1933339454/ref=pd_sim_b_3" target="_blank">here</a>) are a wonderful guide. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. <i>Endorse free time. </i>Then, my favorite...there are so many hours left in the day to play and study whatever they want. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>*My Allison just adores flowers.*</i></span></div>
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<i>*Diggy wants to own a zoo when he grows up.*</i></div>
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*<i>Ahh Kirsten...so motherly and musical all at once.*</i></div>
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<i>*The boys worked together to build the above city. They dreamed up every inch of it.*</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>*Science and history are easy to work into "free" time. Kids are always up for an experiment or some baking or an interesting story...especially if they have to wear a protective mask to stay safe.*</i></span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And kids </span><i style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">love</i><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> maps. </span></span><br />
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<i>*Kenny has spent hours duplicating maps, starting at age 5. And Diggy, at age 9, was determined to protect his territory...California...where he was born with his blue soldiers. I don't blame him. It's a lovely place.*</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">5. <i>Mingle among inspiring mentors</i>. With a secure attachment in place, we also take our young children out to explore the world and meet inspiring people. They accompany us to the grocery store, to the bank, to concerts, to plays, to athletic events, into nature, and on vacations. Sometimes we point inspiring things out. But mostly, we observe what catches our kids' attention...and wait for questions. "How much does this cost? What does that sign say? When is it going to snow? Can I do that?" all prompt loads of learning opportunities. They notice the check-out lady, the garbage man, the butterflies, the falling leaves, and the girl at the park who can already ride a bike and shoot a basket. Inspiration strikes. Their minds and bodies are off to the races in a very natural and exciting way. Their positive energy is contagious.</span><br />
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<i>*For a budding saxophonist, like Kenny, who better than THE <a href="http://www.jonirabagon.com/" target="_blank">Jon Irabagon</a> to turn to for inspiration? I'm proud to say I drummed for Jon when we were both in high school...but even prouder to be buds with an outstanding someone who can ignite a fire in the next generation. (Thanks again, Jon! Kenny just got a 1 on a very challenging sax solo.)*</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>*I definitely need someone else to mentor my children in dance.*</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> <i>*It has been a real treat to be involved in community theater...talk about inspiration.*</i></span></div>
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*<i>Mother Nature is always one of my top choices for inspiration.*</i></div>
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<i>*The adventure of exploring man-made cities hits a sweet spot, too.*</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">6. Use<i> the library.</i> We go 'library shopping' about once a month and check out 100 more mentors on any subject they (or we) find fascinating. </span><b id="internal-source-marker_0.6359888256993145" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It feels like Christmas all year round. </span></b></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjok53yIgmVXCbuDjrmm8jf4tJ-9AeZpM7KU1YvkdewA-UAyZTOY6f530YkF3dFUPMCkpEo0YO7BFwKS0Ux32TWH5YaPalDwXr0WifwiSpFPxDbM2fEnTDX6IUdLPFNPnUZQeD44npnKXE/s1600/IMG_20130410_143537_508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; white-space: normal;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjok53yIgmVXCbuDjrmm8jf4tJ-9AeZpM7KU1YvkdewA-UAyZTOY6f530YkF3dFUPMCkpEo0YO7BFwKS0Ux32TWH5YaPalDwXr0WifwiSpFPxDbM2fEnTDX6IUdLPFNPnUZQeD44npnKXE/s400/IMG_20130410_143537_508.jpg" width="225" /></a><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicD0AFRIsDIGPlnBkXLAhpQGXkOWs3Rx5OtCjGOnEHAlqjmcHCB6ra55Tb1tcPGzVxpzZnCOEJt33WJybVMxvkEY9XjeIgaAvMT03Q1qwALXIrT-64-NlfnmpulkuHLcaA3RL5-nQZy3E/s1600/IMG_20130410_143152_789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; white-space: normal;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicD0AFRIsDIGPlnBkXLAhpQGXkOWs3Rx5OtCjGOnEHAlqjmcHCB6ra55Tb1tcPGzVxpzZnCOEJt33WJybVMxvkEY9XjeIgaAvMT03Q1qwALXIrT-64-NlfnmpulkuHLcaA3RL5-nQZy3E/s320/IMG_20130410_143152_789.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXT9VaxAt73b0Ew1MHVfsFVVxA5APwPt8NMgUjyYmDz7KVizPNa2B5smsK5pF_S34qIrvjmSF1tsQP1xPO1C8Q4swSAPAWcvyJL_LlE6V0YDBKmpb3NgIVbzqs1BhwkfV949NdGxxCv48/s1600/IMG_20130410_143854_303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXT9VaxAt73b0Ew1MHVfsFVVxA5APwPt8NMgUjyYmDz7KVizPNa2B5smsK5pF_S34qIrvjmSF1tsQP1xPO1C8Q4swSAPAWcvyJL_LlE6V0YDBKmpb3NgIVbzqs1BhwkfV949NdGxxCv48/s320/IMG_20130410_143854_303.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>*Love that our library now has a self-check out. They are incredibly kid-friendly over there. Those librarians...they just get it...and my kids reap the benefit.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">7. </span><i style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Allow lots of crafting and costuming. </i><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think of myself as relatively frugal...but I spend plenty on art supplies, books, and costumes</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">. And...I let the kids go to town when inspiration strikes as often as is feasible.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozdSS8bFWBDEXg1ptNvUs-jDVJJjZm_-ubS0HXKXPknqvJzcgq47VAwAmz8adlenMzRwLS_wna5LcX_JypAaCWpXn5JLI2T04qSP6ayf2THsvSe1mAXf85PMfwbeGzz-XaCeMpughQoc/s1600/July+2012+again+037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozdSS8bFWBDEXg1ptNvUs-jDVJJjZm_-ubS0HXKXPknqvJzcgq47VAwAmz8adlenMzRwLS_wna5LcX_JypAaCWpXn5JLI2T04qSP6ayf2THsvSe1mAXf85PMfwbeGzz-XaCeMpughQoc/s400/July+2012+again+037.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>*Kirsten launders her dolls clothes regularly...like in Little House.*</i></div>
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<i>*Below is her scrapbook in progress.*</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCvkHJNImWuhKnj5Q3rOq3L22kSR9_QtdfnGoMcoBLUtxj3ho5mvHeKzmed5wS6eM18LWLxisYp2ztt5lRsJyyi2H3DBL1iTjbkhvPOY2UN41vTvsPnH4vFngPMVBAz7PXfbOKQECcMs/s1600/Mar+and+Apr+2009+078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCvkHJNImWuhKnj5Q3rOq3L22kSR9_QtdfnGoMcoBLUtxj3ho5mvHeKzmed5wS6eM18LWLxisYp2ztt5lRsJyyi2H3DBL1iTjbkhvPOY2UN41vTvsPnH4vFngPMVBAz7PXfbOKQECcMs/s400/Mar+and+Apr+2009+078.JPG" width="297" /></a></div>
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<i>*Diggy makes the most interesting things out of paper and tape.*</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYv0co8d7c3fbXAj9PDtNgsIeq5eqseVzU95t8yd3QYBvvMHtD1Je3gw4GCIL2SDU9Vr7E1tUgPll2bjOBiiYs_T_oQu3fFlSbhCcM8TG6HedZj6BzG0F-fKWsBH6WZPs0E9nzh1ctYk/s1600/10_25_04+DH+the+artist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYv0co8d7c3fbXAj9PDtNgsIeq5eqseVzU95t8yd3QYBvvMHtD1Je3gw4GCIL2SDU9Vr7E1tUgPll2bjOBiiYs_T_oQu3fFlSbhCcM8TG6HedZj6BzG0F-fKWsBH6WZPs0E9nzh1ctYk/s400/10_25_04+DH+the+artist.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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*<i>Diggy...testing out his<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></i><i style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pachycephalosaurus skills.*</span></i></div>
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*<i>And we can't leave out Mary Poppins with Michael and Jane.*</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">8. <i>Limit brain junk food. </i>We do limit technology time like video-game playing or movie watching to about 30 minutes per day for these under-8ers (unless it's movie night). This gives their minds lots more space in the day to be active as opposed to passive. We find they develop much more creativity because</span><span style="font-size: 15.555556297302246px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to process the loads of information they've soaked in, </span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">they've got to get up off the couch and and use their bodies in real life. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">To execute a limit on the lure of technology overload, we, as parents, often need to unplug and get on our hands and knees and play alongside them--what a novel idea, huh?. This is actually when most of our academic "teaching" occurs anyways, so we all win. Also, we've noticed that most technology interactions get recreated in real life, so we're of course careful about which shows and games captivate their attention and inspire their futures. I know way too much about brain development to allow them to watch just anything that's on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">9. <i>Cry sometimes. </i>Because teaching, guiding, and nurturing children doesn't always go well. And because crying has a nice cleansing effect. When I cry myself to sleep, I often wake up with a clearer mind and feel more ready to try again the next day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">10. It feels like I should have a ten, but I don't. I'm just making these up as I go along. Any thoughts for a #10?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well, let's move on for now... </span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="font-size: large; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A list of what we try NOT to do</span><span style="font-size: large; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> during the Following Stage</span></b><b><span style="font-size: large; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">:</span></b></div>
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<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't expect or require a certain amount of work during this entire stage. If a child gets tired, we stop. This sounds anti-academic, but it's not. It actually has a very positive effect on motivation toward long-term academic success.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't give assignments.</span></b><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> It's fascinating to watch children create their <i>own, more effective</i> way of internalizing material...there are a few examples on this page.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't formally keep track of progress or require "testing" unless we have a child who loves test-taking type challenges. But I do take personal notes on my observations...this helps when I'm pondering a specific child's needs. </span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't hold our kids responsible for meeting certain goals or learning certain material. We obviously have various goals in our minds, but we typically don't verbalize these goals much to our kids at this stage...sitting down and setting formal goals with them comes during the <a href="http://www.presentparenting.org/stages/accountability" target="_blank">Accountability Stage</a>.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't use rewards like grades, treats, stickers, or presents as a primary way of motivating them to make progress. But we do bask in the natural joy of learning...and we do enjoy plenty of treats and stickers just for fun.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we certainly don't punish--like take away privileges, delay play-time, withhold love or praise--for lack of academic motivation or progress.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't nag them to finish something. (unless I'm in a grumpy mood. arg!)</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't label our children as lazy or dumb if they become disinterested in a certain subject. That's kind of an obvious one, but it can hard to do if you also consider how children interpret our sighs and body language.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't stick to a curriculum just because we started it.</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We don't zone out as parents. Following Stage kids play for hours and hours. But even if we're bustling around in the kitchen or sitting behind a computer while our children are pretending in another room, we try to stay aware of their wavelengths and remain ready to set our busyness down to assist them again when they come back to our world. </span></b></li>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I'm wondering if these thoughts sound crazy. They did to me a few years ago. But honestly, after years of attachment education, we are quite in tune to our children and they to us and we can 'feel' where they are at, we can study and ponder about where they are going, and we can model how to get there--or lead them to someone else who can--and instinctively know how to help them progress. It's kind of magical. And I know we're not the only ones on this path...I know many parents who do the same with their children. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Troubleshooting</span></b><br />
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.6359888256993145" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If our children seem relatively unmotivated during a particular day or week or even year during the Following Stage, we don't put accountability on their shoulders for this yet by throwing a carrot or getting out the stick. Instead, we work on our personal patience and take responsibility ourselves.** I ponder what can I do to ignite a new fire, to inspire them toward a worthy cause, to connect with them again in a way that builds a natural motivation in favor of goodness and progress. Maybe I need to change how I'm spending <i>my</i> time. Maybe I need to change my tone of voice or my body language. Maybe I need to challenge myself on the very topic I want to inspire them on by researching, creating, memorizing, practicing. </span></b><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When my kids see me trying to figure something out, trying to stretch my mind a little, a new light comes into <i>my </i>life and my children are naturally attracted to it and grow from it, unless I shine the light right in their eyes. </span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></b><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or maybe we all just need to pause and eat some ice cream. </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or maybe I need to pray about who or what to introduce them to next. </span></b><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In many cases, we watch YouTube videos, attend concerts, or call up family/friends in search for inspiring examples of talented people. The world is full of positive role models. Children are very motivated by them. We have found that they are extra willing to follow during the early years. And this motivation continues into later stages if we don't coerce them with rewards and punishments when they are young and innocent.</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">**During l</span></b><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">ater developmental stages, we slowly and naturally shift accountability to their shoulders. But during these young years, we find great joy in positively shouldering the burden of their challenges. It makes both them and us more mature (think stronger and more balanced brains) and more ready for the </span><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;">turbulent</span><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> times ahead.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cool thing about education during the Following Stage:</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All through the Following Stage, life's light bulbs turn on in our children's minds. After being introduced to amazing people and things, they start to recognize various academic challenges and choose to immerse themselves in them without us even saying a word...because they want to become amazing people, too. </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And if I'm willing to listen, I hear plenty of reports on their progress, which is why I don't have to formally test them:</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I can count to 1000!" </span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I can name all 50 capitals." </span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I know the diameters of all the planets." </span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I can play 'Mary had a Little Lamb!'"</span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Look at my picture of a skeleton."</span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Mom, do you want to read my story?"</span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Watch us do the 'Wizard of Oz'" (with the exact lines and blocking they observed the community theater pros do several months back...and the costumes Grandma made for Halloween that year...I think they should've charged us for tickets)</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">etc, etc. </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGVSjWrpaqcG0-wdW0jubgYxNIm9liJx0BW43UOCYejIsC1t4bJRpMl-tLQu34ToEQXUJ37WCzRH_-d8FVjQe8p7hpqlZ_7Uw_H5hnGTAxCsYj5QRkH39AHJkypj-DDdknPirhpGbVNQ/s1600/July+2012+129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGVSjWrpaqcG0-wdW0jubgYxNIm9liJx0BW43UOCYejIsC1t4bJRpMl-tLQu34ToEQXUJ37WCzRH_-d8FVjQe8p7hpqlZ_7Uw_H5hnGTAxCsYj5QRkH39AHJkypj-DDdknPirhpGbVNQ/s400/July+2012+129.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bottom Line<span style="font-weight: normal;">: </span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">When we focus our energy on nurturing them with the gift of emotional and mental freedom, they choose academic challenges for themselves. And they accomplish them. And each child does so in his or her own unique and beautiful way.</span></span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbaGFBi1x98GOesCdA7hiMe4qR3IW2f16X-RHwWi3XeGFPTz2n6GBfbEzPpD8MiP9UXagM-yfjChmVbKi2BewFSDQ64z2mj59Gp8QVGfV3l0f3Wjcll3Vq1nQAThqJ5r7AVus9X92SUM/s1600/Halloween+2011+048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbaGFBi1x98GOesCdA7hiMe4qR3IW2f16X-RHwWi3XeGFPTz2n6GBfbEzPpD8MiP9UXagM-yfjChmVbKi2BewFSDQ64z2mj59Gp8QVGfV3l0f3Wjcll3Vq1nQAThqJ5r7AVus9X92SUM/s400/Halloween+2011+048.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308994061382302287noreply@blogger.com1