Spying a rack of reduced produce at the Fortinos:
"Hey mom, here are the used ones!”
The Kind of Stuff that Happens When Mom is the Church
Pianist
During the playing of a tranquil, pre-service hymn, two
boys came running in, whispering loudly to each other. They were just about to
sit in our row, when they remembered they wanted Bibles, and so ran out again,
giggling. The eight-year-old returned without incident... but the nine-year-old
came back holding his Bible with one hand on his head. Just as he got to our
row, he paused, and I watched with growing horror as he removed his hand from
the book and posed for all to see with a Bible balanced on his head. Of course
he nearly dropped it, and the next pose was a desperate grasp of the Bible
between ear and shoulder while nervously checking out his mother’s reaction.
I didn’t wait to count how many other eyes were looking
for her reaction. I hid my face behind the music stand played on.
A couple weeks ago there was another incident when the
pianist did not return to the piano for the post-sermon hymn. Actually, I
didn’t even notice the particularly awkward pause following the minister’s
prayer... until Liz leaned over to poke me on the shoulder and asked if I was
going to play.
She claimed afterwards that I didn’t notice everyone
waiting for me because I was nicely reclining in M’s arms. Yes, I actually
think she used the word “reclining”. We may have been sitting quite close, but
it was hardly so romantic as all that...
The Queen
We think Marike is almost sheer joy. Of course, being
doted on excessively by all six of us, she’s developed a bit of an imperial attitude.
I suppose nicknaming her "The Queen" doesn't help.
She is also fond of pointing out when she has obeyed,
after others have not. After giving Jo a stern talking to one day, I turned my
attention to Marike, who was finishing her lunch.
“I’m a big girl! But Jo is not a big girl,” She said,
happily pointing an accusing finger at the party under disgrace.
“Marike, I AM big. I’m way bigger than you!”
“Then act like a big boy,” I put in.
"Marike, I’m way bigger than you, I’m like three
times bigger!” he still insisted.
“No, Jo,” she shook her head solemnly. “You just ACT
bigger.”
“Jo just ACT bigger... YEAH.” She concluded proudly.
She seems to really enjoy when her brothers are bad. It
feels so good to compare herself with those poor publicans.
Back to School
I love these back-to-school days.
I like the routine. I like the peace and quiet of kids
poring over their books, instead of beating a soccer ball into my black-eyed
susans. I like coming down in the morning to find four kids hard at work on
their math. I love cozying up with my six-year-old on the outdoor loveseat in
the sunshine, as he practices his reading. Often Marike climbs aboard, too, and
my arms are full. I like walks to the park, where we first have "gym class",
and then I sit and read or mark while the kids play in the sand. All the way
home Marike's pants sag under the weight of pockets full of acorns. She spills
a trail of them as she jogs along the sidewalk.
Each day the kids bring their books down for marking as
they finish them.
"Jim," I call, looking over his work,"A
good unit for measuring baby kittens would be 'grams', not 'liters'. Liters
measure liquid."
"But one time I read in a book that a liter of
kittens had been born," he protested.
That would have been a litter of kittens, dear Jim. :)
I trust it goes without saying that things aren't
always rosy. But on the whole I consider myself very blessed to have the
resources, energy, and opportunity to homeschool my children. These are heady
days!
A Remarkable Child from a Wonderful Family
Joseph won a drawing contest! There were five levels to
the competition - the final level encompassing all of Canada. He was allowed to
enter two posters, one B&W and one colour, and both won nationally. At a
luncheon given in his honor, he sat wide-eyed as a dozen or so officials came
up to assure him he was a very remarkable child, and that he had a wonderful
family. After the speeches and photo sessions and food, a good portion of the wonderful
family ran wild around the room while the mother tried in vain to stop them -
especially the unmanageable curly-haired one with the apple juice spilled all
over her and the usual five year old culprit - thus, the "wonderful"
aspect wore rather thin and a quick getaway was the inglorious ending to this
affair.
Colonel William did it in the Living Room with the
Wooden Sword
Marike and Willie were fighting over a wooden sword,
and Marike wound up with a splinter in her finger. She did not want to have the
splinter poked at, and since I have endured a few major battles over splinters
in the past, I thought I might leave this one alone for the time being in the
hopes that it would work its own way out. Wills - who is the worst patient on
which to do Splinter Surgery - trailed after her, pleading with her to endure
the short term agony.
“Pleeeease, Marike! Pleeease! Just let mom get it out!”
He seemed close to tears. I wondered fleetingly why he, of all people,
advocated so strongly for getting it poked out.
He later sidled up to me and asked, “If you have a
splinter, and you don’t get it out, will it kill you?”
The poor thing was worried that his fight over the
sword was going to the be the death of his sister! I assured him that “I didn’t
think so”;) and he pranced off, relieved, to tell Marike the good news.
Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to say
imperiously, “Willie, fwom now on, don’t evvo, nevvo be mean to me again!”
Sometimes I Worry about that Girl
We made the mistake of watching part of a Dispatches from the Front episode with the kids, without previewing it first. It had some brief but gory war scenes, and I feared the poor dears would be sadly troubled.
The next day Wills and Marike were back at their sword fighting as usual, but Marike paused long enough to ask, “Can we watch that movie again? The one that had lots of killing?”
That girl’s thirst for blood is downright scary.
Homeschooling a Geography Prodigy
James had been told to fix the mistakes he had made in his Language lesson. When he came to the part where he was supposed to have written the population of Riyadh based on the encyclopedia page provided, he said, “But Mom, this Encyclopedia entry doesn’t give the population of Riyadh. It gives the population of Saudi Arabia.”
“No, that number there,” I pointed to it, “is the population of Riyadh....see?” I could say this with confidence because the answer key itself backed me up. Aren't answer keys wonderful?
“No, it can’t be, because I know that the population of Saudi Arabia is 21,700,000 – at least, that is what it was in 2003, when the World Book was published, and this book was published around that time as well."
“Uh...Well... maybe the whole population of Saudi Arabia lives in Riyadh. Isn’t the rest mostly desert?” I suggested wildly.
“Actually there are quite a few other major cities: Jeddah, Mecca.... Besides, in our Encyclopaedia, which was written in 1997, the population of Riyadh was 1.2 million, and I’m sure it hasn’t grown that fast. And the world book says....”
I just stared at him.
“Oh. Well.... I guess the answer key might be wrong....”
And to think countless Moms have been relying on it all these years!
(By the way, I had to make up the exact numbers for this post, because it wasn't from me that James inherited this talent of memorizing obscure facts!)
Mom, watching Willie & Marike affectionately hug each other good night:
“You two really love each other, don’t you.”
Marike: “Yeah, Willie is my best fwend.”
Willie: “I don’t think I would very much like it if I didn’t have Marike. I love having a big girl.”
Marike: “And I love having a gi-antic girl! – That’s you, Mommy!”
I’m so flattered.
