Writing Camp

E has always been a writer, ever since she could put together letters into words she has written stories, letters, journals. So it didn't surprise me when E's teacher recommended that she attend a writing camp this summer. We signed her up for one that was called "Nature Journaling" that took place on the grounds of Highland Mansion. She will never be a kid who would go to a soccer or basketball camp, running around in the hot sun. And I have to say, in this she is my daughter. I knew that she would enjoy writing camp, because I would have loved it myself. My sisters and I were laughing, because they could never imagine wanting to go to a writing camp and I could never imagine wanting to go to a sports camp. What is a fun time to them is torture for me, and vice versa. Anyway, E was in her element as each morning she had different lessons that incorporated both writing and drawing.

The last day of camp the parents were able to come and take a tour of the grounds, which I was excited about, since we hadn't been able to when we went there for our family photo shoot. I loved walking around and taking pictures, and E loved giving us the tour. It would be a great place for a wedding/reception, I will have to file this away for the future.

End of the Year

I posted a status on facebook last week about the end of the school year always bringing a lump to my throat. It is exciting to have the summer ahead of us, but a part of me always gets a little sad at thinking that the year is over, the time my kids have with each teacher is done. Each year we have been blessed with fantastic teachers and our kids have really blossomed and grown. I was especially nervous about N and his teacher this year. Although I had heard wonderful things about him, part of me wanted N to have a woman teacher, to have that nurturing motherly influence.

first day of school

I have to say that Mr. F really did live up to all the hype. He was great with all the kids, and really taught them a lot. I am amazed at how much N learned. He barely knew his alphabet when he started, much less the sounds, no matter how much I worked with him. He can now read simple books, and write his "kid writing" stories.


I also love the relationship he formed with his teacher. Mr. F got a kick out N's personality, and actually did have a more tender side in caring for N when he was upset, hurt, or needed encouragement. It was neat to see the bond that formed between the two of them,

last full day of school

and I think I will miss having Mr. F teach N almost as much as N will.


As for E, she also had an awesome teacher who really pulled the class together, focusing on the team aspect of sharing a year together. E was able to let her gifts shine in academic areas, as well as experience growth in learning to be bold and speak out when needed. Every year E is sad at leaving her teacher behind, but this year was especially hard for her. I found her the morning of the last day of school under her covers, crying her eyes out. She loves her teacher so much, she hated to say good-bye. I really felt for her, and although it was hard to see her so sad, it is good because I know that she would always remember 3rd grade, and the impact this teacher had on her will last a lifetime. On a bright note, we think N might be placed with her next year, as she is moving down to first grade!

first day of 3rd grade

end of 3rd grade

Despite the initial melancholy over the year being over, we have all bounced back, and are ready to embrace the summer season with it's fireflies, pool trips, ice cream, late bed times, and days at the beach. Let the summer begin!

Then and Now

Then

...and now

Nine Years Old

How did my little girl go from this:to this?



Last week E celebrated her ninth birthday. We decided that instead of a big party with lots of little girls, she would invite her 3 best friends and do something special. She chose to go to Color Me Mine, a fantastic place where you can paint glazes on pottery pieces and then they fire them up for you. Three of the four girls chose a ceramic cat to paint, while the last little girl chose a mug.



I had been hoping to do one myself, but the girls kept me hopping refilling their paint palettes and helping with detail. Well, maybe for my birthday I can go out with my friends and spend an evening in creative bliss. We'll paint, and talk, maybe even go out to eat afterwards, and...

Where was I? Oh yes, telling you about E's birthday. Ahem.


Well, after an hour and a half of hard work, the girls were famished. We went over to nearby Wendy's for some dinner and the sillies made their appearance. Prior to this, the girls had been quiet, and almost shy with each other- the car ride up had been silent. Now they were full of energy and jokes. They were of the sort that seem hilarious at the time (to 3rd grade girls, at least) but on reflection, aren't that funny, for example, one that got lots of giggles "Guys, look! There is an actual, stinky...trashcan!" You don't see the humor, yeah, me neither. Well, the important thing was that they were having fun.

When we got back home, KK, N, and Ed were waiting for us, eager for cake and ice cream. The silliness continued, which can be seen in the pictures I took. I did manage to get a couple of nice ones, but it was hard for them to keep a straight face.




On E's actual birthday, we celebrated as a family with a special breakfast of chocolate covered croissants and strawberries, and eggs (for protein). E opened up her gifts from us before getting ready for church. She was delighted with everything especially the American Girl doll outfit.



I'm so thankful that with each year that passes we get to watch E growing and changing into the young woman that God has created her too be, but I am so glad that she still has lots of little girl left in her.

Introducing the two newest members of our family!

Jasper and Blossom!

As some of you may know, we have a cat-crazed daughter. From the time she could say the word, she has been yearning for a kitten of her own. When E was two and a half, we were in a restaurant that displayed an assortment of stuffed animals to purchase. She immediately fell in love with a stuffed kitty, and wouldn't put it down. This first kitty was named "Mama Kitty". In the next couple of years, she started to collect an assortment of little beanie babies that she named, and added to her "kitty family"- Vanilla, Chocolate, Holly, Marshmallow and Georgie. Every night she slept with her kitty family, and dreamed of the day that she would have a real kitty cat.

There were several obstacles preventing this from happening. Our family was still growing, and I didn't want to add any more animals to the mix. And then there were all the allergies to be taken into consideration. Although I grew up with cats I had developed an allergy to them during my teen years. I was babysitting kids that were allergic, and then our small church group met in our home, and there were allergic people in there. Also, there were several allergic moms in our playgroup. But then I wasn't babysitting those kids, our church group split up into a couple of different groups and the allergic members were no longer in our home, and finally the moms that were allergic in our playgroup had other commitments and couldn't come anymore. But most importantly, my allergies seem to have improved. I think it had alot to do with having children, and my hormones changing. I can now hold and pet cats, but still have to be careful not to touch my eyes afterwards.

Ed and I started talking about the possibility of getting a kitten about a year ago. We really wanted to surprise E on Christmas morning, but it wasn't kitten season in December, so we decided to hold off. We thought about it through the summer, but we were going away so much, we didn't want to do anything until after school started. Of course back to school time is crazy with all the schedules and activities, and we just didn't have the time to consider it. We finally got a breather and realized kitten season was at the end, and if we wanted to do this, we had to act fast or we would be in the same situation as last year.

So Friday afternoon we called up the cat rescue lady (CRL), and set up an appointment. We told E when she came home from school, and she couldn't believe we had changed our minds after all these years. When we got to the house where CRL lived, we went up to her special "kitten room" where she had a collection of about 10 kittens. We looked, played, discussed, and decided on two little grey tabbies- a brother and sister pair. We had been talked into two kittens by the CRL who said that they would be much happier in pairs, and it would be easier for us. We saw the wisdom in this, and left with our two new little bundles of joy.

On the way home, E declared the girl kitty would be "Blossom". I didn't see anything wrong with that name, so Ed and I discussed possibilities for the boy. Although I liked "Basil", as it went with Blossom as sibling name, Ed wasn't too thrilled. He suggested "Jasper", and I liked it well enough, so "Jasper" it is.

The kitties are still settling in. They spend most of the time in the laundry room where we have their food, litter, beds, and toys. We occasionally open the doors and let them come upstairs, under close supervision, but they are nervous around Holly and seem to prefer being in their safe zone for now. Their favorite spot is in their cozy bed on top of the dryer. They cuddle in there together, while keeping an eye on who comes in and out. Jasper is more of the snuggle bug, and loves to sit right under my neck while Blossom is the playful one. She runs, chases toys and explores and then when she is exhausted, she consents to sitting in our laps for a snuggle session.




It's fun to see all the kids loving on the kittens, but it is especially nice to watch E with them, knowing that these kittens are the answer to so many of her wishes and prayers.

"each little bird that sings..."

It started with a bird. She darted in and out of the big rhododendron bush outside our front door. We noticed her flurry of activity, but thought nothing of it. It was a couple of weeks before E took a closer look and saw a sturdy little nest built into the branches of the bush, close enough to the sidewalk that we could peer in and note the progress of the egg, which soon became plural. Two perfect, blue eggs cradled by the sticks and grasses, and warmed by their mother.

We kept a close watch, and suddenly, one day E came rushing in after school, and announced that there was a baby bird! I ran out the front door, with N close on my heels to see the new hatchling. As I gently pulled back the glossy leaves of the bush, a little scrap of a bird opened its mouth wide as it sensed a presence hovering above it. The effort proved to be exhausting as its head soon flopped to the side, and we wondered at the ability of such a scrawny little neck to hold up the baby bird's head. We then moved inside to our playroom window that looked out into the back-side of the bush. We had a perfect view of the nest from within, and we could keep an eye on the mama without her getting too nervous. We would see her flitting to and from the nest, coming back with worms that she fed to her hungry chick.
The next day was the second baby's birthday and E scoured the name books to come up with the names "Bluebell" for the mama, "Johnny" and "Buttercup" for the babies.

We also had to discuss some rules regarding the viewing of the nest. I explained to the kids that we didn't want to scare the mama bird away, so we would only look at the nest once a day. Throughout the next week I would walk up the pathway to the front door and casually look over at the nest, and there mama Bluebell would be, a foot away from my face, her eyes fixed on me, trying to determine if I was a threat or not. Most often I would move quickly by and she would remain on the nest, but sometimes it took longer as I had several small children with me, and she would dart out of the bush, and keep an eye on us from a nearby dogwood tree. By the end of the week the baby birds had started to grow feathers on their wings, and the fuzz was filling out. E and I bid them good-bye right before we left on our camping trip, and I took a picture.

Whe we returned yesterday the first thing E did was to run up the walkway and check on the nest. She ran back to me exclaiming,"Mommy! The birds are gone!" My heart sank with the news, but I was casual in my response,"Oh, really?" As I walked up I inspected the ground underneath the bush, but their was no sign of little bodies. The nest was indeed empty. I knew that those babies were too young to leave the nest, and the only thing that could have happened was another animal came and devoured them. I don't really know what that animal could have been, maybe a raccoon or even a bigger bird. I just know that I could hardly bear the thought myself, much less having to explain it to my daughter who had so loved those birds. It was the highlight of her day to check on them, and for the moment I let her come to her own conclusions, that the mama bird had carried them away. Later that evening E came to me and said that she hadn't seen the mama bird back at the nest at all, and why would she take her babies away? I gently explained to her that mama birds don't carry their babies. That an animal must have come and eaten the birds. She gazed at me, but she didn't say anything else. She just left the room and went up to bed. I didn't have the energy to pursue it further with her last night, and no time this morning. Yet the whole affair has left my heart heavy. I think of those poor defenseless babies, and the mother watching anxiously as the predator came and carried them away.

I was thinking along this vein as I was weeding the garden this afternoon. I was down by the water and a fluttering in the bushes caught my eye. I took a step closer, and a robin was flapping around in fright as I approached. It became clear that she had become tangled in some fishing line and was unable to get free. I had my gardening gloves on, so I quickly reached down and grabbed the bird, pinning her wings to her side, and tried to untangle her. She chirped in fright, and her mate came swooping out of a nearby tree where he had been watching her. He called out in alarm, but kept his distance. I cried out to N to go get some scissors, but ended up just running up the hill and indoors myself where I grabbed a pair of safety scissors so that the bird wouldn't injure herself on the tips. I then ran pell-mell down to the water, passing KK who had almost reached the top. Both children ran after me calling,"Mommy! Mommy! What's wrong" Breathing heavily, and with shaking hands I once again grasped the bird around her body and tried to cut her free. Unfortunately, the line was wrapped too tightly, and I couldn't free her immediately. I decided to just cut the line a little long, and then try to work out the tangles from a better vantage point. Once I had the bird in my hand, the mate began to cry in distress, and the robin that I held valiantly tried to peck at my hands as I approached her neck with the scissors. She would grab at my fingers with her beak, and I am sure I would have been cut if it weren't for my gloves. It became clear that the line was really tangled, and I prayed aloud, repeating "Lord, please help me, please calm this little bird, please help me to free her." My children watched wide-eyed, K asking, "Quack-quack?" and N asking what I was doing. I tried to explain, "This little bird got caught in the fishing line, and mommy is trying to help her" Finally I located the end of the line stretched taught against the bird's throat, and I prayed I wouldn't cut her as I slid the scissors between the line and the skin of her neck. She would occasionally chirp out, and try to bite me, but I was able to unwind the line and pull it away. I released her and, with a flutter, she flew up to a branch. She perched there for a moment suspiciously surveying me and catching her breath before flying off. I breathed a sigh of thanks and relief as I walked up to the house on shaky legs.

It's amazing how even in this the Lord's hand was there. He knew how I had felt about those baby birds, and although I couldn't save them, he let me play a part in saving another robin's life. And maybe she has some little babies somewhere that were waiting for her to come back, and now they are saved too. How great is our God!

Locks of Love

Last summer I asked E if she would be interested in donating her hair to Locks of Love. I wasn't sure if she would even know what I was talking about, but she said that she had read a story in the American Girl magazine about it, and was already thinking about doing it. We talked about how there were lots of little girls who had cancer, like Papi, and they lost their hair when they took medicine. I then said that it would be nice to do it in honor of Papi, even though 60 year old men don't wear wigs when they lose their hair from chemo. She agreed, and we have been measuring her hair every couple of months to see if it was long enough. Finally, it reached the requisite 10 inches, and we decided it was time to cut it. E asked her good friend Kyra if she would like to do Lock of Love too. Kyra agreed immediately, and her mom and I set up an appointment for this morning. We decided to go to "Cookie Cutters" in Chestnut Hill because they send off the hair for you, and the cut is free for LoL. It is also a very cute hair place for kids with a kid themed waiting room (slides and video games), and the styling "chairs" are actually cars, trucks, and motorcycles. The girls had fun sitting on the motorcycle, and we took lots of before, during and after pictures. Following the haircuts, we all went to the French Bakery to celebrate. The moms had "The Egg Thing", while the girls had muffins and croissants. It was such a fun, special morning, that the girls are already planning on doing it again next year








I really liked doing this with E because it was a tangible way that she could help someone with cancer. It is something that she was able to do, and a way that she could give, and bring joy to another little girl. It made me a little teary eyed as I brushed her hair this morning for the last time, thinking of where this hair was going, and of the mother and daughter on the other end. I just pray for them, what they are going through, and that this donation of E's will be a blessing.