That's My (3rd) Girl!

I had a unique opportunity last week to spend some one-on-one time with my littlest kid.  Ben was off at day camp from 7:45am-5pm and the middle pair of practically-inseparable girls were off at Grammie's house for a week of girl adventures complete with pedicures, shopping, and Barbie legos.  That left me and Leah in the house for the better part of the day, just the two of us.

Let me just say, this little girl is awesome.

(I like to take pictures of her when her hair is wet because then it looks like she has some hair.)

I managed to get the whole house cleaned with "just" one kid running around at my feet, but I also got to enjoy little Leah in a way that I'm not truly sure I have before that week.  I don't know if it's because when the other kids are here she's just part of the herd or if she took the opportunity that week to really open up and shine.  Either way, it was a real treasure. 

And because I feel like you, the blog readers, know my older kids so well, I wanted to dedicate this post to Leah, who, as it turns out, is no less spit-fire than her bigger siblings. 

Following in the footsteps of her older siblings, Leah is a phenom when it comes to gross motor skills and spends the better part of her day finding news things to climb.  As with most of the lesser desirable skills and qualities I see developing in my kids, I try to look on the bright side.  Like, she's going to make an excellent mountain guide someday.   Because she devotes most of her energy to her climbing, running, and other will-be-athletic skills, she does not do a whole lot of talking.  It's not a concern at 16 months, especially considering the pattern of her older siblings, but she communicates perfectly well with nods, shakes of the head, an effective pointer finger, and squeals of discontent.  This is the modus operandi of Sheppard children.  And it seems even more so for the 4th child with three verbose older siblings. 

While she might not do a whole lot of meaningful talking, she definitely understands us when we talk to her.  "Do you want to wash your hands?" is followed by a vigorous nod and an all-out sprint to the sink where she tries to scale the cabinet hardware as taught by Sarah.  When I tell her it's time for a diaper change, she runs to the living room and even lays down next to the basket where we keep the diapers and wipes.  Even when I try to encourage her to do more talking, like when she kept sliding off the side of the vinyl chairs at the doctors office while trying to climb up onto them and resorted to smacking the chair and staring at me, I said, "Leah, say 'Up, please,'" she just looked at me and nodded as if to say, "Yeah.  Duh.  That's what I've been saying this whole time."

This week has been an exercise in watching her imagination grow.  I don't remember my others doing "pretend play" so early, but then again, maybe it's the pregnancy brain.  She's got her Barbie and Prince Eric dolls having some serious conversations.  Incomprehensible to most, but definitely not to her.  She's also been loving on her baby dolls.  Kissing them, rocking them, hugging them, and pushing them in the stroller.  So she needs a little practice to keep her from crashing into the walls.  Typical woman driver.

You tend to think that by the time you get to number four you've seen most everything.  Not true at all.  Leah is our first to love shoes at such an early age, particularly rain boots.  She literally sprints when she hears either an exterior door or the pantry door open, regardless of where she is in the house.  She pantomimes a very convincing look of sheer, brute force with her arms on either side of the tray when she's finished in her high chair and wants to get out.  When we cry (or pretend to, just to see her reaction), she gets the saddest little pouty lip.  We're not sure if all the fake crying is scaring her or if she's trying to commiserate, but either way, we think it's pretty hilarious.  While she is most definitely not the first child we've had to prefer the emperor's new clothes look, she's the first we've had to attempt to redress herself after completely stripping down.  We can tell this is happening because of the screeches of sheer panic that come from trying to shove a head and two arms through the same arm hole.  I am pretty sure she is the first child we have who is completely afraid of being submerged in any depth of water.  The surf, the two inches of water that collects in the roadside gutter after a rainstorm, and Grammie's kiddie pool all qualify as death traps for this little munchkin. 

 

It's probably my fault.  I think she's only had two baths since birth.  (We're not gross.  Shower are just way easier in my opinion.  But, hey, at least she doesn't mind water in her face!)  See, though, she's not scared at the top of the water slide.  Just in the pool.  Silly goof.

And then...there are the hijinks.  While I don't think she has the strong will of Ben, the all-out wide-open energy of toddler Abby, or the scary combination of will and athleticism of Sarah, Leah has her own brand of quiet mischief.  And she does it with a smile and a seemingly innocent "Who? Me?" look.   Trust me.  She is not innocent.

 

Not when she's scaling the table just moments before friends come over for Bible study and shredding all of the napkins.

 

 

Not when she's removing all of the dirt from the [sad] plant in the foyer.  (Okay, fine, so maybe she was just trying to put it out of its misery.  A green thumb, I have never claimed to be.)

Not when she's wearing several pair of Mommy's underwear as scarves and finishing off someone's Cherry Dr. Pepper after Sunday lunch...on top of the table, of course.

And not when she busts into the under-the-sink cabinet with child-proof locks not once, but twice in a week and ingests a dishwasher tablet and sprays herself in the face with 409 cleaner.  Turns out, she's okay.  But, really, Leah?  Why?

Couldn't you almost eat her?  She's so precious.  

If you aren't buying it, come hang out with us some day.  She might give you a dirty look at first, but she'll warm up.  Especially if you give her some food.  Preferably candy.  And now, if you don't mind, I'm off to watch her dance while she pulls on her earlobes excessively hard as Sam sings one more round of "Do Your Ears Hang Low?"

One Year Olds, Man.  Crazy.  Crazy Fun.

The Devil Read my Blog

Just one week ago, I posted about the reasons I shouldn't be homeschooling.  It was tongue-in-cheek, of course, because that's what I do.  I know that God called me home.  That is without question.  And because of that, I believe that this week, Satan has been working overtime here at the Sheppard residence.

There have been tantrums, fits of rage, screaming matches, tears, and bad attitudes abounding.  And the kids haven't been perfect either.  *snicker*  Sad but true.

What's interesting is that I can't put my finger on any one event and say, "Man, when [unspecified event] happened, that really made the rest of the week go downhill."  It wasn't like that.  It's just been one of those weeks where we simply didn't have a single perfect day.  Each day, there was someone or a few someones who simply dug their heels in and said, "No."  Each day, there was someone who woke up on the wrong side of the bed and stayed there until they crawled back in the wrong side of the bed that evening.  Each day, there was a defeatist attitude.  There was sloth.  There were feelings of entitlement.

It's almost as if the children collaborated after Sam and I were asleep one night.  Maybe Sarah was at the head of the table organizing the thing.  "Alright, Ben.  Tomorrow, it's your turn to get angry because you don't feel like doing math.  Abby, you scream that you hate reading on Tuesday.  I'll keep up my daily refusal to nap.  And let's see if we can get Leah to cry at random all day long for at least one day.  Also up for grabs are complaining that "it's too hard" and "I can't do it", whining about the food, being lazy, and leaving random deposits of toys and/or shoes all over the house." 

It's not like anyone hit me over the head with a 2x4, but my spirit feels like it.  Oh wait, actually, we did experience that this week - only it was Sarah.  She got hit in the head with a 2x6 wooden swing on the playground last weekend.  Five days later and she's healing up nicely...even though with head knocks of that caliber it means she actually starts to look worse as it gets better.

Interestingly, that was a non-issue compared to the attitudes we had going on.  She was back to her normal shenanigans within a couple of hours.  Here's hoping she at least learned not to walk in front of swings again.

Anyway...

Satan will use what he can, whether subtle or blatantly obvious, to cause division, dissension, and strife.  This might be on a small scale between a mother and her kids or between young siblings.  It might be on a national level between gun control lobbyists and second amendment activists.  No matter where the conflict is, one thing is certain, it's caused by the enemy of God.  And he is utterly delighted in his work today.

As I've tended to my kids this week, I have cried many tears over their poor attitudes, anguished over the lack of wisdom in their choices, and grieved their deliberate disobedience.  I've wondered, "Why oh why won't they just do the right thing and follow my instructions?!"

Then it hit me - not unlike that 2x6 - this is how God feels about me.  These kids definitely learned their behaviors from someone.  Boom.  And what I really need to do is listen to the wisdom and counsel of my Father.

I've said it before and I'm grateful for it all of my days, thank God his mercies are new every morning. 

My prayer for tomorrow and going into next week -

Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me. ~Psalms 51:10

Because I don't want to be a complete downer - here are some of the highlights from our past few days.  There is joy and love and there are blessings all around us!  All I have to do is get over myself and, yup, there they are!

While cleaning out the kids rooms this weekend we stumbled upon no less than 3 magnifying glasses.  They proved to be great fun...

(Whoa, that one is especially scary.)

I watched as my girls thought outside the box, again, and turned their Geoboards into a "laptop computer."

 

We took advantage of the unseasonably warm January temperatures and played outside like whoa.

I watched a head-wounded Sarah return to the scene of her first head-wound and sit unsuspectingly as Abby prepared to dump a wheelbarrowful of mud and weeds on her head.  

 

I watched as these crazy, dress-wearing girls jumped without inhibition off the playground.

 

I spotted two longish hairs on Leah's head in the sunlight.  Make the picture bigger.  I promise they're there somewhere.

We blew dandelion seeds all over the backyard.

We had a picnic...and took a walk...all together.  As a family.

 

The girls stole picked Camellias and put them in their hair then insisted we call them "The Rose Girls."

 

We relished in barefoot time in January.  (Really, it was 75 degrees.)

 Abby made a real-life pictograph out of our shoes, categorized by color.  But we had to do it fast because goat-girl Leah wanted to eat the shoes. (What about that one undeniably black shoe next to the two glittery pink ones, you ask?  Abby called it pink because the interior was pinkish.  I couldn't argue with that.)

Tonight, at Bible time, my sweet, hesitant, somewhat-reluctant reader independently read four verses to us.  And the beaming pride on her face made this weeks worth of stress melt away as if it never existed. 

And that too is a glimpse into what it's like to be God and see his childrens' sins washed white as snow.

Goodnight, everyone.  God Bless!

My Mom Homeschooled Us for a Week and All We Got was a Lousy Blog Post

One week ago, I was surprisingly calm as I anticipated the morning's adventures.  It was as if I were filled with a peace from someone's prayers.  (Thanks!)  On Monday, July 30, we dove headfirst into our first year of homeschooling.  I had no idea what to expect, and thanks to an over-active imagination on my part, I feared "the worst."  What the worst might be, I had no idea, but as is my modus operandi, I like to go into things with low hopes so that they always surpass my expectations.

It worked.

I'm fully aware that we may be in the honeymoon phase right now.  Surely the novelty of being homeschooled will wear off and my kids will hate it as much as any kid dislikes going to school.  We're still working out kinks, ironing out our schedule, and figuring out some house rules...like "No shooting Nerf Guns at your sisters while we're working on reading."

Honestly, though it's been amazing. 


On the first day, we got dressed, sat at the table, and got things going.

This will have to suffice as the year's official Back-to-School photo.  While we did get dressed, I didn't do hair.  They were hardly "picture-worthy"...

If anyone cares, one day I'll go over our curriculum (which, I cannot for the life of me spell correctly), but for now, I'll just recap with pictures and some funnies from the first week.  Goodness knows this blog is in need of some levity after that last post.  (Geez.)

By the second day, we opted to stay in pajamas because that's how I roll.

"Math" for Abby has proven most fun for the whole family.  (I use the term "math" liberally because even though we have a legit curriculum, for the first few days it was mostly free play.)  Even Ben joins in to play with the teddy bear counters.  It's nice to see him being a little boy every once in a while.  Seems most days he's lost that.  'sniff, sniff'

On Wednesday, we made cave paintings which now decoratively adorn the walls in our dining-room-turned-playroom-turned-school-room. 

 

Sarah took some liberties with the paint.  I tried to tell her we weren't doing interpretative dance/body painting, but she wouldn't listen. 

 

The best part about homeschooling is you get to be goofy...in your nightgown.

 

....with your brother...after you ride scooters in the driveway to get some of those jitters out of your system before sitting down to do spelling work...

 

Abby made Yankee Doodle - see "Macaroni" up there?

 

Our history lesson today was about the Nile...we made a miniature model and flooded it, just like the real one.  Abby cried.  Apparently her irrational fear of floods applies to miniature models as much as real life.  It didn't help that the side her pyramid was on flooded way worse than the other.  Hahahahaha.  Poor Abby.

 

You're going to think I prompted this - I promise it was completely spontaneous.  The kids were looking for any excuse to use their dry erase boards, so I just told them to go for it while I cleaned up the Nile project.  I came back and Ben had written a "cinquain" poem about homeschooling.  

 

 We made some family pictographs.  Abby drew the faces on the bottom one, and Sarah did the top.  Notice, on Sarah's, I didn't even make the list.  I see where I rank.

 

My favorite part was Abby's interpretation of Ben.  He's frowning and crying.  She smiled so much when she finished his face.  She ran straight over to him and showed him.  You can imagine how well-received that was.

Last picture (finally, I know) - I instructed Ben to write a sentence using the word "evaluate", and he wrote, "Mommy used her nose to evaluate if the sausage was good."  Clearly we've had some questionable sausage here lately.

While creating an original mnemonic for the planets, I shared with Ben that I used to say, "My Very Eager Mother Just Sent Us Nine Pizzas."  His reply?  "I hope you're that eager someday."  It's the little gems like that I would miss out on otherwise.  Hahaha.

I stole the idea from a friend to write letters back and forth, journal-style, between Ben and me.  I pulled out a spiral notebook and got things going halfway through last week.  It is already my favorite thing - and not even necessarily a "homeschool" thing.  I totally recommend it, if for no other reason than it helps ensure that I am affirming him on things I might otherwise forget to verbalize.  I'm much better at writing my thoughts and feelings than saying them.  Here are some excerpts from his notes back to me:

I enjoyed our first week of homeschooling.  It wasn't what I expected at all.  It was ten times more fun than what I thought.

I enjoyed today's History and Math and can't wait for the next subject.  My absolute favorite is science.  I have learned so much already.

I'm sure the honeymoon will end at some point, but for now I'm enjoying it while it lasts.  The first week went so well - here's hoping it continues! 

The One where I Lay It ALL Out There

Summer is winding down, and everywhere we go, my kids get the question:

"Are you ready to go back to school?"

Then the inquisitor looks at me with a knowing look and a nod and says something like, "I bet you're ready for them to go back to school."

I don't think my kids are particularly unruly or misbehaved.  They do have a presence, after all, there are four of them, but I'm not sure why innocent conversationalists assume that I welcome and relish the time away from my kids that school provides.  

There was indeed a time when that Staples commercial rang true - you know the one:

 (Like it or not, that's brilliant advertising.)

I didn't always enjoy spending time with my kids.  It's the truth.  I love them all dearly as extensions of me, and as the gifts from God that they are, but there was a time in my life when they seemed like work.  And I didn't truly find joy from hanging out with them.  Maybe that was to blame on being an inexperienced, stressed-out parent, or maybe it was learning the ropes of infanthood/toddlerhood/preschool-hood, but I really and truly think it was because I didn't know how to spend time with them.

God brought me home in November 2010.  He dragged me here kicking and screaming when I got laid off from my not-at-all cushy, underpaid, grunt-work of a civil engineering job that I didn't really even love.  But, one thing I knew (or thought I knew) I did not want to be home. I spent hours per day searching for jobs outside the home - even considered going back to school to get an advanced degree.  Anything but being a stay-at-home mom.

I was terrified to death of being with my own children twenty-four hours a day.

Ouch.  The truth hurts.

Eventually, I figured out that my kids are pretty awesome.  I maintain that they're little sinners just like everyone else and everyone else's children (sorry if that comes as a shock to you - but your kids are little sinners too), but I'm not scared of being around them anymore.  This isn't to say I don't have moments when I need a break, and in those moments, Sam is awesome about recognizing my need to reset and calls me out on it, even if my pride gets in the way sometimes.  I'm truly blessed to have a husband who has never been afraid of his own children. 

Fast forward to now, approaching two years later.

In less than one week, our family will begin our newest adventure - homeschooling.

I've come a long way from doing anything I can to get away from these kids of mine...

It's amazing what you hear when you stop, wait patiently, and listen for instruction.  When I got laid off, I cried, went into a funk, and was determined to find a new, better job.  Well, I found one (being a stay-at-home mom).  It's not the one I would have picked, but it's one I've grown to love.  Now, I wouldn't trade it.  Little did I know that less than two years later, I'd receive a monumental promotion, of sorts.  And, to be honest, I did a little kicking and screaming before I decided that this was, indeed, what God was calling me to do.

I can tell you, while shaking in my boots, that I am nervous, excited, and terrified.  I'm confident in my ability to teach the subject matter.  I'm excited about the opportunity to teach the heart matters when we walk by the way, when we lie down, and when we arise.  And for all the gaps in my abilities, well, that's where I'll rely on the ultimate source of these abilities anyway:

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall;  but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.  Isaiah 40:28-31

I am anticipating the negativity I'll encounter when I go out to the grocery store in the middle of a school day.  I'm dreading the questions I'll get like, "Don't you think you're wasting your education?" and "Aren't the public schools good enough for you?" 

Since those have the makings of an entirely new post altogether, let me just say that our decision to homeschool our kids is a personal conviction that Sam and I have had.  It's not an indictment on the schools, or anyone else's choice to send their kids to any other institution of learning that they see fit.  This is not a judgment on anyone else.  We heard the call, and we are answering.  That's the best I can explain it.  I've chosen my own way more than a few times, but this time, we're choosing obedience.  

So, to answer the original question -

Yes, my kids are ready to go back to school.  And so am I.

Let's get this party started.

For those of you who might not have been along for the ride during which I decided to homeschool - here are a couple more posts on that:  

My Deep Dark Secret 

Reasons NOT to Homeschool

Incremental Living

Such is life with a newborn.  With the first three kids, it felt like the newborn stage was a series of 2-3 hour increments.  I lived from feeding to feeding.  Sometimes I was able to finish a task in between, but usually not.  It's amazing how much longer things take to accomplish in this stage of life.  Loading and unloading the dishwasher?  At least a couple of hours.  Washing a load of clothes?  After you consider having to re-wash them because you forgot about them sitting in there, well, it's a minimum of double the time it would have been.  Taking a shower?  Though it remains at the top of your priority list (even a quick 5-minute rinse off would suffice), it seems to be one of the last tasks that gets checked off, and even then, you usually have a two-year-old stripping their clothes off moments after you jump in because they "want a shower too."  

It sounds like I'm complaining.  I'm not.  This is just how life goes with a newborn.

I wrote several weeks ago now (man, time flies) about how I wasn't nervous about the changes that #4 would bring.  I'm still not.  She's just...a part of the family.  We know how this newborn thing goes.  But the thing that I didn't expect is that instead of 2-3 hour increments, life is a series of 5-10 minute increments.  It's the amount of time Leah sleeps consecutively without being poked or prodded or bumped by a big sibling.  It's the amount of time she goes before she thinks she's hungry again.  It's the amount of time Sarah takes to find something mischievous to get into while I'm changing a stinky diaper.  It's the length of time before a deafening crash comes from another room while I'm nursing.  It's the amount of time Leah is in her swing, sleeping soundly, before one of her big sisters thinks they need to turn the music on with it at an ear-piercing decibel level (seriously - why does it even go that loud?). 

I'm not one to tip-toe around a newborn.  This is life at our house.  But it would be nice to up life to 30-minute increments.  Shoot, even this very short blog post is going to take hours.  I can feel it. 

In the interest of brevity (and accommodating my own spurts of living), here are some photos from the past couple of weeks.  Just so you know we're all still out here...being crazy, loving on each other, and trying against all odds to get some sleep while we can.

Because she wasn't sleeping peacefully enough, someone (cough, Abby) decided Leah needed a little decoration whilst she was swinging.  

Since Daddy's off work, Sarah got to take a nap one day in our bed.  Look at that little foot up in the air.  She was konked out!

Wide awake and looking for food, no doubt.

Apparently, Leah doesn't like being amongst the animals in Abby's bed.

Playing on the new bunk beds...I owe you a whole post on these things, for sure!

 

Our sleeping princess.  (Even if she has a little bit of a furrowed brow in her sleep.  She gets her facial expressions from her mother.  True story.)

For now, I'm off to find another 5-10 minute task - which may or may not include parking it in front of the television with a cup of coffee.  

I'll never tell... 

P.S. - The irony of it all is that now that I have "no time" to blog, I have all sorts of ideas of things about which to write.  I'll just start a list.  Wouldn't want to deprive anyone of these compelling blog posts.  Until then, have fun on the edge of your seat.  (wink, wink)