The Tapestry of Now

Life’s adventure rarely leaves time for long enough pause to question.  How did I come to this and what brought me here?  It’s only upon stepping back from the tapestry and observing that we’re able to truly see the Artist’s flair.

What looked to be a tangled web of yellow thread was really a sunbeam.

The woven blue lines folding in and out grew into a vast ocean when stepping back.

Did you know that sometimes you can step back and look at even the most recent past and see beauty?  Did you know that if you take just a minute to breathe, you might be amazed at what’s developing right before your eyes?  Did you know that sometimes the present feels tangled and knotted but upon closer examination, it’s really shaping up to be something…grand?

I’m there.  Right now.

I didn’t want to “provide my children with a home education program” as the State of Florida asked me to word it in my letter to the Superintendent.  But somehow I knew I was supposed to.  And it scared me.  It still scares me.

But here we are.  Two weeks in and dare I say we’re having fun?  And if I step back for a few minutes and let the weight of this responsibility slide off my shoulders, I am able to see something beautiful being pieced together.

 

The root word + the suffix =

My kids and I are enjoying one another.  Naturally there are moments of frustration.  There are certain children who are to remain unnamed who, apparently, are so easily distracted that the simplest of tasks can turn into the most painful.  There are whiny moments and at least once a day I have to stop myself from tossing my hands in the air in exasperation.

But, more than anything else – we’re laughing together.

 

Russian lessons

We’re living life together and learning as a whole.  Similes, compound sentences, geography…who knew learning could be such fun?  They can label every state on the map and, as an added bonus, so can I.  Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, eh?

 

Tia loves to do "hard math."

And suddenly, without even knowing really when or how it happened, I became that mom.  The mom who schools her children in the home…and likes it.  I still don’t know if this is a permanent situation for us.  I honestly don’t know.  But for right now, I’m enjoying this bumpy little ride.

 

Taking a compound sentence from Sloan’s journal and pointing out the conjunction. He was also required to use one simile. My poor kids…stuck with a mom who finds a freakish amount of glee in similes and compound sentences.  You should feel sorry for them.

As I look back at the tapestry being woven these past few weeks, I’m in awe of the beauty and the masterful way it’s all slowly coming together.

Even if there are a few stray threads still needing to be plucked…

I wrote out a few conjunctions and turned around to talk with Tia for a minute. When I heard snickering I turned back around to find Sloan had edited my writing slightly.  Silly little boys make the tapestry a little more fun and…colorful, wouldn’t you say?

*sigh*

The Homeschool Post

Forgive the lame photos. My good camera is at the spa getting a facelift.

I never planned to be a homeschooler.  It was never something I desired to do.  Never.  In fact, I’m pretty sure my exact words in the past were, “There’s no way in H@#! I would ever do that.”

Classy.

But something happened earlier this year and a transformation began inside my heart.

Sometime after the New Year, Sloan began struggling in school.  It wasn’t a major struggle.  He was getting by just fine, but he wasn’t thriving.  Part of that was my fault.  Life was just so overscheduled.  We had something almost every evening of every week – all good things, but it left my kids bouncing in the wake of life and they were tired.

So we started cutting things out.  Good things.  And I hated it.  All the while, I shipped my worn out child off to school for eight hours a day despite his daily pleas to let him stay home “just this once.”

I’ve said it before but it bears repeating.  I don’t have major issues with the public school system.  I have nothing but respect for the men and women who choose to teach our children.  Some are better than others, to be sure and the system is far from perfect.  But it deserves respect and it has that from me.  I wasn’t necessarily upset with the quality of education my son was receiving so much as the time it seemed to take to get it.  I feel like one of the biggest flaws in our school system (and this applies to both public and private schools, incidentally) is the amount of time we are keeping our children in the school building.

Sloan got on the bus at 8:00 every morning and he got off at 3:30.  This left very little evening time for us as a family.  It also left him tired and unwilling to concentrate on any kind of homework.  He never wanted to sit and read a book and I didn’t blame him.  If I were forced to sit and listen for roughly 30 hours per week I wouldn’t want to read a book either.  That’s a lot of time for our little guys to be away.

This combined with a lot of prayer led me to seriously begin considering homeschooling.  I entertained that idea alongside the idea of checking myself into the loony bin, because I felt sincerely crazy.  Homeschooling?  Really?

Yes.  Really.

Two kids, two sets of study guides, double the crazy?

I mulled all these things over by myself for awhile, then I went to my husband.  I was positive that he would have his head squarely placed on his shoulders and would practically and reasonably talk me out of this silly little notion.

“I think you should look into it,” he said.  And then I passed out.

When I came to, he continued.  ”Obviously the Lord is working something out in your heart because I’ve never heard you talk like this before, so I really think this is something we need to research and pursue.”  So being the dutiful wife that I am (wink, wink) I took his advice and began talking to every single homeschooling friend I have.  I asked them all for the exact same information:

- Give me every reason I should do this and…

-Give me every single reason I should not.

Not surprisingly, the reasons I should far outnumbered the reasons I shouldn’t, and the reasons I shouldn’t were mostly selfish in nature.  But I still wasn’t convinced, so I researched and prayed and waffled and wavered and questioned and finally decided that homeschooling was something I needed to do.  Not for me, but for them. (When I say them, I’m referring to the children…you already knew that, didn’t you?)

Ultimately, I knew that I needed to get my clutches into my kids and show them what a joy learning can be.  Even if I only do it one year, I want the year to count.  I want them to know that I was willing to give up everything for them so that they could see the magic of opening a book.

Now I’m not sure I can show the the magic in math.  Because math is not magical.  It’s just numbers. Lame.

Right after I made the decision to homeschool, we found out we were moving and the timing just felt right.  It also felt horrible.  How would I do this without a local network of support?  HOW?!

I’ll tell you how.  Yesterday, as I watched Landon at swimming lessons, one of the other moms walked up to me.  ”Do you homeschool?” she asked.  I was taken aback, because why would she ask that?  What a random question?  Was I putting off some kind of homeschool vibe?  It must have been the denim jumper I was wearing…the one with the apple and ruler appliques on the front.

I kid.

“Yes,” I answered.  ”This is my first year.”

“Oh you’ll love it,” she said with a smile.  ”I’ve been homeschooling for years.  What curriculum are you using?”

Sonlight,” I replied.

“Wonderful!” she cried.  ”That’s what we use.  Let me know if you have any questions about it.”

OMG - So many pages. I feel like I'm decoding the key to a secret world...

Is it coincidence that she randomly struck up a homeschooling conversation?  Maybe…but I doubt it.  Because today our curriculum arrived in the mail and I am thoroughly and completely overwhelmed by it all.    Thankfully, I have a new friend who will be able to show me the ropes.  And for me, that was one more confirmation that we are in the right place, doing the right thing.

Now if you will excuse me, I am going to go churn my own butter while simultaneously working on my needlepoint and baking homemade bread.

I kid.  I’m not going to do any of those things.  I’m going to finish my wine cooler and go to bed.

So this is the part where you join in, my bloggy friends.  Would you ever homeschool your children (or are you currently)?  Give me the best and worst.  I want to be prepared.

 

Big Bang

Lee-Kelli 10 (2)

“Hey Mom,” he said as we walked along a path enjoying a beautiful spring day.  “Did you know that the moon was created when a big meteor slammed into the Earth and bounced off of it?”

I snorted and gaped at my boy-man, sure I must have heard him wrong.  “What?!”

“Yeah.  The whole world was created that way.  Giant meteors slamming together.  BOOM!”  He clapped his hands together and made the bomb sound that only a little boy can make.  While he reenacted the world forming out of meteor’s slamming together, I gathered my thoughts.  The absurdity of that theory is not lost on me, but to his seven year old mind it’s a really cool image so I gave him a minute to envision it.

“That’s really interesting, buddy,” I said, after a moment.  “Where did you learn that?”

“Oh, I saw a video at school.”

“Huh.  Well, do you really believe that’s how the world and the moon were created?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“Do you remember learning about God creating the world, forming the sky and the land and the water and all the animals out of nothing?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he said, picking up a rock and tossing it into a nearby stream.

“Look at the trees,” I said and we stopped.  “Look at how each one is a little bit different.  Now look at the clovers in the grass.”  He and I knelt down next to a patch of clovers and I ran my hand over it.  “See how they have three leaves on them?  But if you look long and hard enough, you might find a clover with four leaves.”

I stood him up and pointed at the moon that was already faintly showing as the evening began to fade to night.  “Look at the moon.  Look at the details in the moon.  And look at your own hand, at the lines and the marks that are unique and can only be found on your hand.  It seems kind of strange that all of these amazing details could have happened by accident, do you think?  It seems to me that there had to have been a Creator to place all the finer details together.”

“Well, yeah,” he said.  “But the video at school said that’s what happened!”

“Yes, I know and I’m so glad to know that you’re paying so close attention in school.  I also want you to know that you don’t have to believe everything you learn.”

“But I’m supposed to trust my teachers,” he protested.

“No,” I responded.  “You’re supposed to respect your teachers.  You can respect them and you can respect the different ideas they are teaching you.  I will tell you where Mommy and Daddy place our trust and that’s in God and in His Word.  We trust that it’s true and when Genesis tells us that God created the heavens and the earth, the sun and the moon and all the creatures upon the earth, we trust that to be Truth.”

We walked in silence for a moment as he thought.

“Do I have to believe what you’re telling me?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.  “You have to decide on your own what you believe to be true.  I can’t tell you what to believe – I can only tell you what I believe and I believe God’s Word to be True.”

“Well how do I know what to believe?”

“Prayer.  And knowing what the Bible says about Science.  God is the creator of Science and there is a lot we can learn from His Creation.  But it’s always important to weigh what you learn about Science against God’s Word.”

He sighed and kicked a rock with his toe.  “Okay,” he mumbled, clearly feeling conflicted until…

“Wow!  Look at this awesome rock!”  He picked up a shiny rock and held it in his hands like a treasure.  He looked at me and grinned, the evening sun dancing across his smattering of freckles.  And just like that, he was a kid again.

This was a conversation I had with Sloan last week.  It’s not meant to start a bashing session against the public school and OMG what are they teaching our kids?!  Admittedly I was a little upset when I first heard what he learned, but after thinking about it I realized I shouldn’t be surprised.  I knew they wouldn’t be teaching my child Creationism.  That’s my job.  And I’m glad that, at a young age, he has been exposed to the idea that there are different schools of thought on how the Earth was created.

Vigilance is key when raising kids, whether they go to public school, private school or you teach them in your living room.  We must vigilantly teach our children how to weigh academia against Truth.  While it wouldn’t have been my first choice for him to learn a modified version of the Big Bang Theory at such a young age, I am glad that we had the conversation that we had.  (Seriously, a meteor bounced off the Earth and that’s how the moon was formed?  I’ve never even heard of that before! :)  ) 

How are you teaching your children to defend Truth in a world that is fighting against it?

The Art

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A ten year old girl sits intently over her metal framed desk, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as her pencil scratches furiously across the lined paper.  She sighs, erases, then places pencil to paper again.  An adventure is spilling from her fingertips.  It involves a hot air balloon and a chicken.

She knows it’s brilliant.

With a modicum of flair, the girl hands it to her teacher looking much like the Cheshire Cat.  Two days later, her story come back with a bright red smiley face and the words GREAT JOB!  The teacher pulls her aside later and tells the girl to never be afraid to use her imagination and to keep telling stories. 

So the girl does.

A thirteen year old girl sits in her bedroom with the blank pages of a journal on her lap.  It is the place where the angst of teendom spills forth in childlike poetry.  She pours out her heart with emotion and gives full expression to every hurt, every confusion, every fear, every joy.

She lays the journal down and immediately feels the need to write some more.

So she does.

A sixteen year old girl sees a younger classmate hurting and wants to help.  She’s not good with words unless she is able to put them on paper so she decides to write a devotional.  With great fervor, she writes a seven day devotional in which she hopes to convey God’s love in a way that replaces the pain with hope.  She never found out if she succeeded, but she begins to wonder if her passion could be used for good.

So she continues to dream.

A nineteen year old girl is called into her professor’s office.  She sees her paper on his desk and suddenly fears she has made a grave error in her writing.  She listens in awe as he instead praises her paper and asks if he can submit it to a local writing contest.  “You know we have a Professional Writing Major here, don’t you?” he asks.  “You should think about that.”

She thinks, she decides, she declares.

A twenty year old sits on a train from Prague to Ukraine.  She is alone with a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a copy of Jane Eyre.  She puts down her book and looks out at the changing leaves and rolling hills of a foreign land.  She picks up her pen and journal and writes.  She uses “Thee” and “Thou” and feels like Charlotte Bronte on a grand adventure.

She feels romantic and poetic.

A twenty three year old girl is newly married and sitting in her empty apartment, her eyes glued to the computer screen before her.  She has her first big break.  A book.  And she is terrified.  So she does the only thing she really knows how to do, she writes.  Most of it isn’t fit for publication, but she works out the kinks through the melodic clicking of her keyboard.

Her dream is coming true.

A cough cough year old girl gets up long before the sun to make use of the few brief moments she’s allotted with her thoughts.  She pulls out her dusty journal and for the first time in years touches pen to paper.  It’s as if her first love has been there waiting for her all along.  Life flows from her fingertips and she quickly puts her pen back down, almost breathless.

She forgot how much she loved the art.

This same girl is digging back into the recesses of her imagination and letting it run free again.  Hot air balloons and chickens suddenly don’t seem that strange.  In fact, it feels like a fantastic adventure.

Today I am speaking at a local career fair on the art and craft of writing.  What will I say to them?  Perhaps, chase your dreams.  Or maybe, don’t be afraid to use your imagination.  Should I include have a back up plan?

What advice would you give young minds eager to jump into their own futures?

I Said “A Boom Chicka Boom…”

This post has nothing to do with that title – I have just really wanted to title a post that for a long time now…

Actually, this post really has to do with nothing at all.  You’re ripe with excitement to read further aren’t you? 

Maybe I should do an entire post of one liners.

So there was this blogger who walked into a bar…

Nah.

We’re T – four days and counting until the big trip.  I’ve had some freak out moments in the last few days, the biggest being when I realized that we might have to cut Hallstatt out of the itinerary.  My Hallstatt.  My preciousssssss

I fretted and fraught (fraught?) and worried and moped.  But it was a reality that we had planned way more than we could probably feasibly accomplish in our short time over there.  And I really didn’t want to cut out Tuscany.  Something had to go.  Until…wait a minute.  Maybe not.

What it boiled down to is this: We need to be flexible.  We I need to be willing to cut out Hallstatt if it becomes apparent that there is just no way we’re going to make it all the way there and still have time to book it down to Tuscany.  And so I still have hope, my friends.  You see, the goal is to try and stay off of the AutoBahn (and Autostrada) as much as possible.  We want to explore and get the flavor of the land.  We want to round a curve and be looking down at a village nestled in the mountains.  This means that it will take longer to travel.  But it also means we’re going to have an adventure.

And if we miss Hallstatt, we’ll just have to go back, right?  Deal!

Moving on…

See?  More one liners.  There is always room for one liners.

Too bad these aren’t the funny kind of one liners.

They’re kind of boring actually…

Ah well.

Sloan woke up with a low grade fever tonight.  I gave him some Tylenol and piled him back in bed where I hope he’ll wake up fever free for school tomorrow…because I’m that mom.  If you’re not dying, you’re going, kiddo. 

We’ll see. 

We will also be buying Emergen-C in bulk tomorrow.  And Zinc.  And Echinacea.  I will not come down with a fever on my dream vacation.  Oh, and to our parents who are splitting kid duty for the ten days while we are away: I’m so, so sorry.  Here’s to hoping whatever Sloan has doesn’t spread.  Or maybe he doesn’t have anything.  Here’s to hoping that.

Speaking of Sloan – he and I had a duke it out, we-might-not-make-it homework session tonight.  I won.  Barely.  We’re having this minor issue with child #1 in that every.single.time we bring him to the table to do homework, he brings along a massive chip on his shoulder.  He is heaping with sass these days and it’s never more apparent than when he is under educational duress.  It is especially evident when it comes time to do russian homework. Ay-yay-yay.

When it was all said and done and that which could have been completed in twenty minutes was finally finished after an hour of sweat and tears (no blood, thankfully) I felt defeated and dejected.  Now that I know he is running a low grade fever I feel a little better, but the truth is – homework is often painful.

But, just before bed, Sloan grabbed my hand and led me back to our bedroom and sat me down on the bed.  “We need to have a little talk,” he said.

“I had a bad attitude tonight and I was just angry and upset and sometimes russian is really hard and I feel like I can’t do it.  But I didn’t act right.  I wasn’t ‘quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry’ and I’m sorry.  Will you forgive me?”

He did that on his own.  Without any prompting.

My heart is still a little gooey.  Of course I was quick to offer my forgiveness and apologize for my lack of patience.  Amends were made and we agreed to work as a team to make homework more fun.  It is moments like those that I truly, truly love being a parent.  Sure it’s cool when they hit a home run or draw you a picture, but when they exhibit a heart attitude that you have worked so hard to help shape and mold?  That is when parenting is most rewarding.  Just when I felt like I was the worst mom ever and totally incapable of successfully parenting that boy, he reminded me that his sweet little heart is full of gold nuggets just waiting to be dug up and harvested.

Do you harvest gold?  Did I just mix metaphors?

So yes…parenting is wicked hard.  But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I wouldn’t even trade it for Hallstatt, Austria.

I Said “A booma ticka rocka ticka rocka ticka boom!”

The End.

Post edit: Sloan woke up fever free this morning and he happily skipped to school (well, happily skipped onto the school bus anyway).  Whoop!

Today I plan to melt your hearts

Yesterday was Tia’s first day of preschool so it was only natural that I pull out my trusty magic camera and take 697 pictures before she left.

The results were glorious.  She was cute, naturally.  She can’t help but be cute.  And Sloan was ever the charmer.

“Mom, you can take two pictures of me and that’s it.  I don’t want any more.”

Right.  I took a couple more than two.  Don’t tell…

It is the shots of Landon, however, that will leave you with a toothache.  This is due in part to the fact that his hair was so spectcular when he woke up that I had to wet it down and slick it to the side.  Chubby cheeked cherub with slicked back hair?

Sweetness.

Combine that with a pair of pants that I found at a little shop in Orlando this summer – pants with suspenders – and you have a recipe for pure love.  It also makes for some great pictures.   So I present you my children.  You’re welcome.

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And, of course, the first day of school wouldn’t be the first day of school without a good old fashioned tree climb.  In a dress…

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And one more of Landon, because sweet mercy!  That face is amazing.  Don’t you just want to eat him up?

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Ice Cream Surprise

*update – if you’re having trouble with the video constantly stopping and buffering, click on the numbers in the bottom right hand corner.  I don’t know what they mean but if you click it it should change from 360p to 480p and then the video should play without stopping.  At least that’s what worked for me.  I think it has something to do with pixels, but I dunno really…

I got this idea from my friend Nicole a few months ago. 

We put the kids to bed early last night.  Sloan stomped and groaned and bemoaned the fact that the summer is over and school is starting and “why won’t you let me stay up and enjoy my last night of summer – WAAAAAAHHHH!” About five minutes after laying them down, we went into their room and flipped on the light (only to find them both sitting up in the same bed…so much for them actually going to bed) and told them we wanted to go get some ice cream.

“Would you like to come with us?” we asked.

Their reactions were priceless.  And you can see them for yourself.

*a quick disclaimer: Lee got a little ahead of me and flipped the kids light on before I had the camera going so I missed a little bit of their reaction.  Bummer.

I think my favorite part of the video is when Lee begins talking about third nipples (nubbin’s) and Sloan starts laughing so hard he almost wets his pants.

Welcome to crazy town.  So glad you came.  Leave your shoes at the door…or leave them on. Whatever.  We talk about third nipples.  You can do whatever you want.

Have I mentioned lately I love my family?

Yay for the Ice Cream Surprise!

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And now I’m off to shower so I can take Sloan to school to meet his teacher.  I’m taking my kid to meet his first grade teacher.  I’m taking my child to his elementary school where he’s going to be spending the entire day at school.  I’m having a panic attack while I think about taking my kid to see his first grade class.

I’m feeling old.

Like Fish to Water…and other stuff

 Yesterday was a big day in the life of the first born.  He graduated.

Kindergarten, that is.  I’ve never fully understood the point of kindergarten graduations to be honest, but if having a promotion ceremony means I get to watch 60 five and six year olds sing songs and beam with pride, then I’ll take it.  Because it was awesome.  I almost got a cavity from all the sweetness.

But here is my dilemma, oh internets.  When I was three, I sang my first solo in church.  It was Away in the Manger and I belted it out with pride.  I have a vague memory of my dad standing at the bottom of the steps snapping a picture.  By the time I was in Elementary School I was a performing addict.  I would put plays on at my home making my brother suffer endlessly as he played a host of characters in my little productions.  I loved drama (shocker, I know) and I loved singing on stage. 

I was like a tiny Rachel Berry with a Wisconsin accent.

So how is it, my friends, that I have a child who is so terribly stage shy?  Even more?  He’s got a great voice, loads of personality and can feel the nuances and rhythms of music extremely well for a six year old.  Yet every time he gets on stage he looks like this:

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 To his credit, he was one of four children who were asked to stand around the microphone for one song and he did it without bursting into tears.  He didn’t sing his heart out, but he DID stand up there in front of the mic and I was thrilled.  That was a big step for him and I almost clapped my hands raw.

I tried to upload the video but YouTube was being funky and I don’t have all day for it to load.  I know you’re disappointed. 

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In celebration of the graduates accomplishment, I let him pick the restaurant for lunch – he chose Cheeburger, Cheeburger.  So off we skipped to the mall, his graduation cap firmly placed on his head throughout the entire lunch.  He is a first grader now.

How is it possible that I have a first grader?!  Didn’t I just graduate college, like, yesterday?

My birthday’s coming up next week.  That, combined with the fact that I have a first grader is causing a minor panic attack.

In addition to the commencement ceremony, we decided to hit the deck for the first time this year.  The pool deck, that is.  I’m so glad my kids love to swim.  And they’re really good at it.  They take to the water like little fish.  And for the first time, I don’t have to be right in the water with them.  I have to be close in case Landon’s float flips him over, but I don’t have to be in the water with kids hanging on me.

Which means I can sit on the side and work on my tan – because that’s what life is all about…gettin’ tan.

I kid.  Don’t worry, I do watch my kids while they swim.  While I’m getting a tan…

Sometimes I watch them through the lens:

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This child is starting to look like a little man. Totally freaks me out.

This child is starting to look like a little man. Totally freaks me out.

I'm glad I sprung for the waterproof cast.

I'm glad I sprung for the waterproof cast.

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To Arkansas and Back

We spent a lovely, relaxing week in Arkansas last week where we kicked off our time celebrating the graduation of Lee’s youngest brother from the University of Central Arkansas.  Zach was thirteen when I first met him.  He was fourteen when Lee and I got married.  And now he’s all grown up, has a job and is such a great guy.  I’m so proud of him.

I’m getting verklempt.  Talk amongst yaselves.  I’ll give you a topic.  The Partridge Family was neither a Partridge nor a family…discuss.

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We heard rumors that Kris Allen (also a UCA alum) was at the graduation.  Actually, it wasn’t a rumor – Zach’s girlfriend got stuck behind the mob of young fans wanting his autograph.  I didn’t see him, though, and it’s too bad because I think he’s a doll.  I would have stared.  I’m not afraid to admit it.

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My son is a goofball.  Seriously, where does this kid get his over the top personality?  Lee and I are so reserved and shy…

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My sister-in-law, Becke’, photographer extraordinaire, sat down and gave me some great photo tips.  I learned about ISO (they’re like worker bees.  Trust me…), f-stop, shutter speed, and how the three work together to create the perfect exposure.  I learned how to shoot in Manual mode and, while I need a lot of practice (I still can’t take a decent picture indoors) I came away taking better pictures from just one session.  I’m telling you – Becke’s good.

(She is equally skilled, incidentally, at killing mutant Arkansas wasps that better resemble a hummingbird than a wasp using nothing but a Steno Pad and sheer force while others, who are less brave than she, look on.  Don’t ask me how I know this.)

Flowers are the best practice subject.  They have vibrant color, unique shape and they’re still while you take their picture.  Not like my kids who are apparently allergic to sitting still.

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See that blurry background?  I set that!  I determined how much blur I wanted (the f-stop, if you will) and adjusted my shutter speed and ISO to match.  Me!  Let’s all do the happy dance together, shall we?

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Now I just want an editing software.  I am hereby entering every contest I come across for Adobe Lightroom or Adobe Photoshop.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say I need Lightroom or Photoshop, but my want is riiiiight on the border of a need.

Besides photo lessons and graduation, we enjoyed an abundance of family time.  We ate out every night – and when I say every night, I mean every.single.night.  My stomach is in rebellion.  I’m on a bit of a detox today of dried fruit, water and green tea.

We watched the kids soak up as much cousin time as they possibly could.  From putt-putt to Wii, those kids relished every moment together.  I loved playing with my cousins growing up and have so many cousin memories, so I’m excited to see my kids building the same memories.

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The lone girl.  She held her own with all those boys, even trying to convince her older cousin that she had boy parts.  We’re still trying to get her to understand that she is, indeed, actually a girl

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The baby of the family was so thrilled to be invited along with all the big kids that I thought he might actually jump out of his skin on the way to play golf.

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Sam – the concentrator.

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Cade – the sports nut.  Feel the emotion.

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Eli – the cut up.

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Sloan – the one who’s here to have fun.

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We are officially back to life, back to reality.  But – glory! – school is almost over.  Tia has three days left.  Sloan has ten.  I can’t wait for summer vacation. 

How long do you think it will take for me to wish school would start up again?

America the Bo-ring!

It was a packed weekend and there is just so much to share and document!  But by far, the highlight of the weekend was the annual Russian-American school Christmas party.  I look forward to this party every year.  It’s loud, chaotic and loads of fun.

I’m tellin’ ya – the russians know how to throw a party!  It just makes me happy because it makes them happy.  Seriously, grown ups and kids alike have a ball.  And who wouldn’t when characters like these come out for Christmas?

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This is Winter.  She sang, she dance, she whooped and hollered and kicked up her heels.  Who knew winter could be so much fun?

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See?  She’s having a ball.

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Then there was this fella.  He was the MC and he sang everything in a warbling, Dean Martinesque voice.

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Then, of course, there was Baba Yaga, the forest witch who’s always trying to ruin Christmas.  She sings too…

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And what is Christmas without Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf?

Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

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And look how much fun they’re having?  Don’t you wish you were there?  And yes, that’s a singing tiger on the end.  I told you it was a fun party.

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And then the older fella on the left came out (I’m not sure who he was supposed to be – his mic was muffled so I couldn’t understand him) and he went fishing and pulled out the singing fish, which you can see on the right.

And of course, the highlight of the party is the unveiling of Ded Moros (Father Ice aka Santa Clause) and his granddaughter, Snegurichka.

They sing too…

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Sloan and Tia thought it was rockin’ awesome.

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And why wouldn’t they?  They got to sing, dance, play toss the ring on the goose…

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They didn’t dress in costume because I forgot about the tradition of kids dressing up for Christmas.  But other kids dressed up, like this little doll:

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Who can resist a little blonde boy in a cow costume?

And at the end, Ded Moros, alongside all the other characters, gave out Christmas gifts.  Sloan came home with a digital photo ornament, which he thought was the bee’s knees, and Tia got a huge art set. 

Ded Moros gives good gifts.

I gotta tell ya, when I go to parties like this I realize how boring America is.  I mean, all we’ve got is Santa, Frosty and Rudolph.  Bo-Ring.  Give me a singing tiger and dancing bear and then we can celebrate Christmas!

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S Razhdyestvom! (Merry Christmas)