To my sweet birdie on her first birthday.

I have never loved someone the way I love you,

I have never seen a smile like yours...

1

Tomorrow is the big day. 


Me and her, we made it.


We've been reflecting a lot this month on what we went through to get her. The difficult pregnancy. The easy birth. The really sweet first months.
God's goodness and sovereignty at work. 
So easy to grasp on this side of the ordeal. But true nonetheless throughout it all. Just as real in the lows as in the highs. No where near as easy to accept then as it is now. 


But real. 


And now here we are. 
The bird turns 1. 


No more babies in the house. 
No more babies ever in the house. 


It hits me like a brick tonight. 
The eve of 1. 
No more babies. 
Ever.

Regardless of how sure I am that three is enough. Regardless of how confident I am that we cannot handle another pregnancy like the ones I have. Regardless of how great life is now even. 


While we sleep tonight, it changes. 


People told me to soak it in. To enjoy all the little moments with her. To relish her baby self. 


And I tried. And I even think I did a good job of that with her. 


But tonight it doesn't feel like I remember enough. 
It doesn't feel like I took in enough of her baby smell. Or kissed her teeny fingers and toes as many times as I should have.  Or just sat with her and cuddled as often as she deserved. 


The mix of pure joy and utter sadness that is unlike anything else in life. 
To be a parent. 
To be given something so lovely just to be asked to give it away. 


I know that for some, the giving away comes much more suddenly and tragically than what I am talking about experiencing tonight. 
And to be sure, I don't mean to trivialize their loss or the changes they are facing. In fact, I honor them. I can't wrap my mind around what that must be like. 


I pray that the passing of years and the gradual loss of my kids to their adulthood is all that is ever asked of me, because tonight, staring in the face of 1, it feels like more than enough to have to handle. 


Those baby days are gone, but she is not.
And I know how blessed that makes me. 
Tomorrow means a new chance to love her.
To experience her and life through her eyes. 
To soak her in.
To try and memorize as many moments and as much about her as I can. 
Because now that I've known her, I won't ever be able to shake her and sadly, however it comes...
Someday I'm going to have to give her away.


Turning 1 is just the first step. 

The Introductory Homeschool Post

I've been putting off writing The Introductory Homeschool Post. 
I've worked it up so much in my head that yes, it warrants capitalization and it may actually live and breathe and haunt my dreams. 
The post.

Telling the world (or the ten people that read this thing) how it's going. What we're doing. If it's working. Do I love it? Hate it? Regret it? How does Ephram like it? How does it work with the girls?




Is he learning anything?

Ok, so my fear of this post doesn't have anything to do with this post. No, it's probably more about me facing these questions and all my doubts and putting down in one place all the reasons why I am sure of this choice and silencing all those nagging fears that make me doubt.

So here goes.


Somedays are great and somedays aren't.


Yesterday wasn't. 


And I'm pretty sure it ended with us deciding that Ephram should just go back to school. 


Ugh. 


It was a bad day and one should probably not make those kind of decisions on those kind of days. A lesson I am learning. Why does it feel like I'm the one who is always learning the lessons here? 


I love homeschooling. Ephram has been loving it too. It feels like it fits. It feels like a gift for our family. 


But it doesn't feel like I have a system figured out that really works for us and so days like yesterday easily turn inward and feel like my fault. For not planning better. For not engaging Ephram more. For yelling when I'm frustrated.


For not being good enough to do this. 
Which of course isn't true. But so easy to believe.

We're learning together I guess and that is truly what I wanted. Somedays it's easy to feel tied to a curriculum and a schedule and checking things off the lists. But that's not what I want and so I am slowly learning to let go. (Rob would probably say really slowly after last night and that would be more than fair - ha!)

There are things that aren't working. I likely wouldn't do the program we chose to register in with the school board again. It's hard with the girls. I feel like Ephram knows exactly how to manipulate already difficult teaching/learning situations to get out of work. There are things I wish he was better at and there are a lot of things I wish I was better at. There are things he isn't learning. But at the end of it all, there is much that he is. 

And to have a front seat to it all, the good and the bad and the sometimes (very) ugly...

An honor.


Do I regret this? 
Not one bit.