{Iambic Quadrameter at Its Finest}

Newsflash: It's SUNNY and HOT in the Pacific Northwest.

I'm aware that "talking about the weather" is about as unoriginal a topic as can be. But. We've had some pretty decent summer weather around here, which has made for some fun excursions.

It's also addled my brain, so I shan't write much. Or well.

Nonetheless, I offer a series of rhyming descriptions. Just for you.

The Pacific Ocean has lots of sand;

I can hold it in my hand!

Brother can float in country or city,
 

While little sister holds . . . a kitty.

Paddling with cousins is lots of fun,

Especially when Auntie and Clara come. 

 Little Boy Blue dangles his feet,

While big brother, Ethan, dries off in the heat.

Two sweet pixies splash in the pool:

While crazy cousins try to keep cool.

The drinking fountain has lemonade;

And dear old Maizy stays in the shade.

The End.

{Seize the Summer: How to Grow During the Break}

With the last day of school quickly approaching, I find myself experiencing conflicting emotions. I do look forward to the change of pace, the relaxed days and the beckoning outdoors. But to be completely honest, I also feel a bit anxious. Going from a fairly rigid school schedule to practically no schedule at all can create a whiplash effect.

Join me over at The Homeschool Classroom today to continue reading!

{Anticipation}

I asked them if they wanted to do it again. They lit up. "Yes!" And they started to spout out their dreams for the summer.

Their enthusiasm was a balm to my soul. I started to get excited, too.

I'm dreaming about the books I'll read, the hikes we'll take and the projects I'll finish. I'm envisioning Pinterest projects finally realized. (The girls are excited that it involves their room.)

I pulled out my sketchbook-journal and mapped out the chart. The framework of what may be. It's a blank canvas right now. Hopeful. Waiting. Expectant.

But soon, little hands will scribble their own goals across the lines.

We'll keep the goals realistic. (Sorry, dear, no Disneyland.) Measurable. (Great job knitting that dishcloth!) And fun. (Camping, anyone?)

As we've done in the past, each person will choose three things they'd like to accomplish in each category: Three places they'd like to go, three things they'd like to do and three books they'd like to read. (You can read more about our system over here.) 

This year I'm going to suggest that we each broaden our scope. I'd love to see each person's "to do" section include one area of service and one measurable project completed.

In the reading department I'm going to encourage them to choose from a variety of genres. Biographies are always intriguing and inspiring. (And they have a way of changing us. My friend and I, after recently reading about the unique life of Tasha Tudor, had an irresistible urge to walk around in dresses while sipping tea, tending our gardens and milking the goats. So far the tea sipping is the most realistic part of this dream.)

The sun is bright and hopeful this morning. The breeze dances in whispers across the treetops as Miss Kate plays out back with Maizy. She hollers, "Mom! Come jump on the trampoline with me!"

It's obvious she's been listening to the Newsies soundtrack again. The song she's humming? Seize the Day.

{The Truth About Summer}

We're winding up the school year this week, and already I'm starting to feel suffocated. Not by the heat. (Because there isn't any.) And not by over-scheduling. (Because we don't usually cram a whole lot into the summer months.)

It's a panicky sort of suffocation that I might even venture to call a depression. I tell my husband that I'm not so sure if I even like summer, and he's convinced that I'm deranged. (And then he offers to get groceries and make dinner. I love this man.)

Don't worry. I'm not going all Sylvia Plath on you. I just don't know what else to call it. But I wonder if this floundering melancholy is common among homeschool moms.

Here's the lowdown. We schedule and schedule our days from September to June, and our lives revolve around making some sense and order out of the curriculum, lessons and chores that seem to fill every waking moment. Then, on some arbitrary day in June we say, "Okay, folks. All done!" And the kids shriek and shout because that's what the release of tension does.

But like the cartoon we silently wonder, "Now what?" Guess we'll just walk right back in and keep on doing what we always do, even if it no longer revolves around memorizing presidents and reducing fractions.

I sometimes envy my public school friends who look forward to that last day of school. They know it means that they get to spend all summer with their kiddos and soak up every minute that they can before putting them back on the big yellow bus in September when they will, no doubt, dissolve in tears after a blissful three month holiday. (This is a completely accurate portrayal, I'm sure.)

I don't put my kids on the bus. (Sometimes I really want to.) They're home, not only during the summer, but during the fall, the winter and the spring. Every. Blessed. Season. Don't get me wrong. I love it. (I repeat this to myself from time to time as a mantra.) But I'm also aware that there isn't a marked change that occurs from one season to the next.

We're still all home, and we're still all spending the whole entire day together. Still.

So this is where my suffocation creeps in. Isn't there supposed to be a drastic shift from school days to summer days? Yes, it's great to be done grading math papers. And yes, I love sleeping in. But still.

This morning I began my day in the Psalms, which I'm learning is a good way to begin my summer days. I focus on Psalms 145-150, because that's where I want my heart to be. The Psalms of praise. I am created to praise, no matter the circumstances, and will be most true to myself when I am doing just that.

When I feel suffocated, I remind myself of the rhythm that comforts.

I read Psalms of praise. Even if I don't feel all praisy, I know my spirit is refreshed by the truth of His word. It's a good way to begin the day. (Especially when accompanied by a hot cup of tea.) I'm learning to observe other "sacred pauses" throughout the day, and have set my phone alarm to remind me to praise through the Psalms at intervals throughout the day.

I do the next thing. Years ago my mother-in-law taught me about Elisabeth Elliot's wise words. When I feel burdened with a weight that I can't describe, when I want to sit down and mope, when I want to stay in bed and wallow, I choose instead to do the next thing. Do that thing in front of me that needs to be done. That basket of laundry that needs to be folded? Fold it.

I choose small goals. This is similar to doing "the next thing." Rather than "clean the entire house today," I give myself a pat on the back for scouring the kitchen sink and wiping the milk that spilled in the fridge. I know that tackling the bathroom in one day is realistic. Organizing the garage is not.

I focus on the gifts. Even this morning, as I forced myself to list "the good," I soon found myself overwhelmed with the great number of gifts. God is so good to His people. I thought of my kids laughing as they jumped on the trampoline. I was grateful for their ability to pour their own bowls of cold cereal when I didn't feel like whipping up some impressive super mom organic breakfast. I thanked him for my husband, working hard to support six people.

I anticipate the good. I know there will be lots of fun adventures this summer. I look forward to camping, a family reunion, time with my grandparents, jaunts to the river and the second annual Cousins Camp. In the past I've used summer goals for our family (which we'll do again this year) and my own personal goals, too, like the pursuit of knowledge, health and beauty. These keep me grounded and a tad more sane.

I know I won't be in a fog for three months straight. It just kind of feels like it from time to time. So I remember the good. I cling to grace. I hold on to the truth. I remember where I've come from and I remember where I'm going. And I thank God that I'm His.


How do you respond to the summer months?

{Home in the Woods}

We finally pulled out our calendars. It was becoming obvious that if we didn't mark out some time for a camping trip, it would never happen. Between Jamie's work schedule and Bethie's time at the gym our days are fairly full. I pointed to a weekend. Nope. Video shoot. I chose another. Nope. Team practice. Finally we pointed to a Sunday through Tuesday slot. It was open. And so was the campground. Perfect.



Sunday afternoon, with two vehicles crammed full of camping gear, we headed up the Gorge to the Wind River. I'm convinced that the Lord went before us and orchestrated a special, memorable trip for our family. We pulled into the Beaver campground where the eager hosts were awaiting our arrival. They had hoped to catch us in order to transfer us from the site we had reserved online to the best site they had along the river.



It was one of the most peaceful, refreshing trips I've had in a long time.



We unpacked and set up camp. I love the process of making a home wherever my family lands, even if it's only for a few days. Site seventeen became a dwelling place for six spirits to be nourished, and I found delight in adding the special touches that made it homey.







The crystal clear river was just a short jaunt down the path. Part of the beauty of our trip was the way my children played together. There was no outside competition, either from other playmates or diverse activities. They had only each other and they had only the river and the woods. Their creativity thrived when those were their only options.





Most of our time was spent following woodsy trails and basking in the sun along the river. The weather was perfect. Not too hot, but just right for wading and splashing.



I watched my boy fish just like his Papa. I watched my husband teach the kids all of the stone throwing contests he used to play as a boy. My girls collected rocks and feathers and driftwood. Peaces of perfection to be carried home and treasured.



The evenings were peaceful as we gathered 'round the fire and told stories, the rhythmic rush of the river lulling us to a state of perfect contentment.



The food was good, because food is always good when you're camping.







The campground was remarkably quiet. Only one or two sites were even in use, and the occupants weren't around during the day. We essentially had the place to ourselves. The camp hosts delighted in having the children around and truly loved hearing their merry voices ring throughout the woods. I could relax. No shushing and hushing. They could just be kids.





Tuesday came all too quickly. We pulled down camp, and I ached as our home in the woods was reduced to boxes and bins. I left the vase of wildflowers until the end, then carried it back to the van.

It would grace our table once again when we arrived at our Vancouver home.

Because home is here, too. It's where six spirits are nourished, where we find comfort in the shelter of one another.



I place my own special piece of driftwood on the nature table.



When I angle it just so, it looks like an "L" for Lawson. It fits. And it's home.

Cousins Camp! Day 5

In which I am hoodwinked into taking ALL of the cousins to the park. So my sister can go shopping.

I couldn't resist. The truth is I offered to take the kids so my sister could get some groceries and grab the goodies for tonight.

The grand finale of Cousins Camp was a quick play time at the park in the early afternoon followed by a late afternoon rest (in our own homes) so we could gear up for the last hurrah: a hot dog roast and movie night at Papa and Noni's.



It took quite some time to make our way to the park. This was largely due to the fact that Miss Kate insisted on roller skating. The whole way. Those skates are really noisy.



There were also a number of scooters to reckon with. But we made it there and back again unscathed, and the kids had no problem filling the time with all sorts of activities.




Then we went to our respective homes and rested. I didn't even have to tell the kids to do it. They voluntarily sequestered themselves. I guess we really needed it.



We gathered again in the early evening. The weather was amazing. The dogs were roasted to perfection, with Papa tending the fire and coaxing the most ideal glow from the coals.



Chins dribbled with watermelon as we laughed over yesterday's deception and reveled in the beauty of being together.



The roast was followed by a movie in Papa and Noni's basement. We had all agreed earlier in the week that The Apple Dumpling Gang would be a fun choice.

We settled down, dimmed the lights and snuggled on pillows. Partway through the movie Noni surprised the kids once again. No, she did not alter her appearance. She simply whispered to Papa, who pushed pause, and said it was time for dessert. But not just any old dessert. Apple dumplings.

The kids rolled their own dough and added the filling.



After they had baked to perfection, we added a dollop of vanilla ice cream. Mmmm. Deliciousness.



Finally, the credits rolled, and "The End" followed a goofy Don Knotts and Tim Conway across the screen -- a rather appropriate symbol for the last day of Cousins Camp.

We had a great week. And we'll definitely do it again next summer. But for now, we're all completely wiped out. We've bribed the children to sleep in, and don't plan to wake up until sometime next week.

So the biggest question now is this: Who is the most exhausted?



The cousins?



Or their mothers?

I'll let you decide.

Cousins Camp! Day 4

In which we are refreshed . . . and surprised. Thrice.

Krista and I decided that we would sleep in a bit and start camp a little later this morning. It was a good plan. We were chipper and refreshed, and ready for some mini-golf at the Steakburger in good ol' Hazel Dell.



What we didn't know is that we were in for a surprise. Or three. (Thankfully, these unexpected events did not involve dog poop or insect bites.)

The first surprise was that Drew had secretly invited a friend and his older brother to meet us. They just "happened" to show up. Such a coincidence! Drew was pretty pleased to pull one over on mom. They had a great time.

The second surprise was that Daddy decided to join us. Apparently Aidan had casually said this morning, "You should come with us, Daddy!" So Daddy did.



My heart did a little flip-flop when I saw my tall, dark and handsome guy suddenly saunter through the geraniums and swing his little Miss Kate up in a hug. She was thrilled and immediately claimed Daddy for her exclusive golfing partner.



We had all arrived, so the kids formed little groups and began golfing. Krista and I took up the rear as little Clara wielded a putter with as much cuteness as can be. We didn't get much golfing in, but it sure was fun to watch.



As the kids made their way through the various obstacles, we noticed an older couple at the hole behind us. My sister quietly ached for the woman who was obviously wearing a wig. Cancer, perhaps? Poor thing.



I, however, noticed the twinkle in her eye and the intentional limp in her step.



It was our mother.

Hidden under large straw hats and sunglasses, our parents masqueraded as "old folks" for as long as they could. The kids kept on playing, but one by one they began to glance at the frail couple, then glance away. They glanced back, glanced away, and hesitated. Finally they got up the nerve to say, "Papa?"



They were rewarded with big smiles, for it was indeed Papa and Noni. Fresh from a vacation, they were eager to dole out lots of hugs to the grandkids.



I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.



We wrapped up the game and decided to grab an ice cream cone before we left. The kids were delighted with their chocolate-vanilla swirls, and we reminisced about the youth group events that used to take place at that very restaurant. (Youth events, by the way, that had my heart doing that very same flip-flop over that very same man.)



It was soon time to part ways and shout, "See you tomorrow!" Mini-golf had been a blast, and the added surprises made it priceless. I think the kids all agree that it was the best day yet.