{Did You Know?}

Did you know that . . .

Silly bands have been known to improve test scores? I'm almost certain I read this. Somewhere.

And did you know that packing up a house is quite an adventure?

There are diaries to uncover, trophies to flaunt, love letters to blush over, and . . . a number of teeth in little baggies to be disgusted by.

Why did I save my kids' baby teeth? (Don't worry. They have now been tossed. And you may not tell me that I will regret this, fellow teeth hoarders.)

(I also saved my favorite earrings. From the 80s. Bethie is thrilled. I am now officially a Very Cool Mom.)

But did you also know that moving can be dangerous? It's true. Because some moving boxes also double as time machines and transmogrifiers.

My child might be swept into a different era. My child might be changed into a dog. Or a dinosaur. Or a cat.

Well, at least I'll have their baby teeth to remember them by.

Oh, wait a minute. Drat.

{Operation Simplicity: Why I'm Laughing}

The Lord has a wonderful sense of humor. He knew all along! He knew that as I organized my home, cupboard by cupboard and drawer by drawer, it would prepare me . . . to move.

Just a few short weeks ago we were presented with the opportunity to purchase the home that I grew up in. The kids are beside themselves with excitement, and Jamie and I are, of course, thrilled to be moving into a home of our own.

So my efforts to simplify have already paid off. It should be a fairly easy move (if one can use the words "easy" and "move" in the same sentence). Our soon-to-be home is already vacant, so we're able to move loads over at our convenience. It really is an ideal situation.

The official move will take place toward the end of March. In the mean time, I'll continue to simplify, purge, and pack, eager to bring a sweet little home to life.

We've done it before, and we can't wait to do it again.

{Reinforce Literary Elements With Original Board Games}

This winter my six-year-old daughter and I thoroughly enjoyed reading Winnie the Pooh together. As we vicariously traversed the Hundred Acre Wood with Pooh, Piglet, and the gang, it occurred to me that the scenes and events in the story would make an excellent board game.

So we decided to make our own. As we did so, I was thrilled with the way it helped reinforce literary elements such as character, setting, and plot.

Continue reading over at The Homeschool Classroom.

{Sabbath Rest}

Revisiting these thoughts as we enjoy our Sabbath rest this week.

Okay, so it's not that restful. I'm tackling the garage. Gack! But it sure is nice to take a break from the normal routine.

Have a lovely week, my friends.

And on the Seventh Week Mama Rested

{Candor}

"Mom? Are you able to get up on my bed?"

Aidan nimbly scrambled to the top bunk, eager to show me one of the new additions to his LEGOs poster wall.

"Can I just kind of perch here on the edge?" I proposed.

"Sure." And he went on to explain in detail (and in a tongue that sounded rather foreign) all about the various characters and accoutrements splashed across the wall.

After I did my best at being an interested mommy while clinging pathetically to the rail, a certain question nagged. Why was he wondering if I would be able to climb up on his bed?

Did he think I was too old? Too uncoordinated? Not agile enough?

It rankled. I had to know.

"Aidan? Why did you ask whether or not I'd be able to get up on your bed?"

The candid child flatly stated, "You're a bit big."

They say that ignorance is bliss. They're right.

{Motivation}

Sometimes all we need is a little motivation. It's quite handy that Miss Kate's name covers all of the basic school subjects.
Arithmetic is obvious: that would be math. Voyages? That's how we sneak in history and geography. English is pretty basic, too, with reading, writing, spelling and such all falling into that category. "Recreation" represents pleasant play time, and "Yes, Mommy!" is a reminder to do it all cheerfully. Each task completed comes with a sweet little candy. So far, so good.

Got me to wondering how much housework I could get done if I used my own name filled with M&Ms.

Hmmm . . . let's see . . .

Just keep folding that laundry.
Under the table? Yeah. Really should sweep that.
Lift up that toilet seat, grab the brush, and start scrubbin'.
In case the family gets hungry, have a menu planned.
After feeding all those people, do the dishes.
Need to get groceries now that they've eaten.
Need to keep on folding that laundry, too.
After doing these chores all day long, do them again.

On second thought, I might need something a bit more motivating than an M&M.

{Can I Help?}

Is it possible for a mother to collapse under the weight of too much cuteness?

If so, please bring out the stretcher.

'Cause this mama's goin' down.

{What If?}

I just can't help myself. I'm serving dinner, and there it is. I tear off that perfectly golden crusty end. And feast.

Our pastor mentions something like this during the Sunday service. We know what it's like to rip off a piece of that fresh loaf on the way home from the grocery store. Don't we all crave that bread? I nod, smiling. I've done it before and I'll do it again.

We crave. Our desires propel us to do something about it. Immediately. The desire must be satisfied.

What if at our every craving we reached for the true bread? What if we sought ultimate satisfaction in the bread of life? What if we reached for the One who has declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty."

To never hunger. To never thirst. To be satisfied. Always.

What if?

John 6:35