Today has been reflective, as it goes when the boys are at their school. I did some writing this morning when I got home from taking Aaron to work and some errands, and then after lunch went grocery shopping. Alone. It's different without my little guys trying to help, or knocking stuff off shelves, or picking on each other, or asking for all kinds of treats. It's just me and my squeaky-wheeled shopping cart, and I can mosey and read labels, contemplate a new variety of tea, flip through a magazine in the checkout isle, and all of it without the constant hum of activity my little boys produce when they're with me. I relish it and miss them simultaneously. I walk through the baby isle just to remember it wasn't so long ago that I practically owned stock in the baby isle. Now diapers are long gone, bottles, burp cloths, the beautiful bonding of nursing...all those things that seemed so hard--AND WERE--but so precious, as well.
After groceries I picked them up from school and on the way home heard all about the Pokèmon cards that Brian had given Andres, and how Andrew and Daniel took Raph's Joker toy in class today, and Andrès saw the whole thing, expanding on his side of the story.
"So what's the plan today when we get home?"
"Well," Andrès started in an authoritative voice, "I'm going to do dishes then clean the Cannonball's water, then go play at Hawthorn's house."
"Yeah," said Raph from the very back seat of the minivan, ever a loyal lieutenant to Andrès.
They have a little friend from school, Hawthorne, who has moved in next door, and he spent a good deal of time at our house this summer, although I only allowed Wednesday for friends to come over. I sometimes had 7 kids here running amok during July and August and I couldn't have handled that everyday, so I limited it to one day a week. It worked out well. But now Hawthorne has all the video games and we have none, so he invites the boys to go over, and they do for an hour or so. Like all signs of maturity on their part, I welcome it and grieve it, celebrate it and lament it, at the same time.
As I unpacked and stealthily hid the special candy that will be tucked in stockings by Santa, Raphael had TP duty (opening and delivering rolls to fill all three bathroom's TP baskets), and Andrès did his chores as promised. When Cannonball was back happily in his bowl, they rushed to get their shoes on. I realized that I must have had them on my mind because I got them a new caffeine free tea called Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride to have with their snacks in the afternoon, a box of hot cocoa with a fresh bag of mini marshmallows, and a case of ginger beer to go with our pizza dinner on Friday.
"How long can we stay?" Andrès asked in a rush past me.
I did some math in my head because I wanted to hit the bookstore and get a book for school tomorrow, calculated driving time there and shopping time, and allow driving time to get Papa from work.
Before I could answer Raph was already out the door at the mailbox, spinning around in the cold gray day with the sweet look of joy on his face.
"Raph," I called to him from the house, rushing after him with produce in my hands, "Wait for your brother!"
Andrès burst out the door onto the lawn, the wind blowing his long hair in his face, turned to me.
"When do you want us back?" He called.
"Four fifteen, not a minute later!"
"Okay Mom! I love you!" And he blew me a little kiss.
"Love you Momma!" Raph called out over his shoulder, hand in hand they ran.
"I love you, too!" I called back to them.
Then they were gone, vanished around the tall bushes that separate our property from Hawthorne's. I could see flashes of them through the branches, running to ring the doorbell, and watched until I couldn't see or hear their voices any longer. Then it was just me and the green bell peppers in my hands, and my feet cold on the cement.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Missed Time
It's been a long time since I've sat down to chronicle the life and times of our young family. I didn't mean to drop out like that, but it's been a whirlwind since Aaron graduated, and we've all been trying to find our new balance.
Last year Andrès was in 2nd grade in home school with Evergreen Flex Academy, Cub Scouts, soccer, and choir at church. Raph was in preschool in Ms. Audrey's class and his nemesis, Braxton, who according to Raph, was a real trouble maker, and he always updated us on what sorts of naughty things Braxton did at school. Both of our boys were in a Spanish class on Saturdays in Portland, right next to a really cool up-cycled art supply store named SCRAP that had yarn-bombed trees in the front and jelly-fish hanging from the ceiling inside made of bottle caps and rummaged plastic parts. And from February to May, both boys were in a Christian-based home school co-op on Fridays. It was--needless to say--a very busy year.
Raph turned five (!!!) this spring, and since he's in love with a pair of cowboy boots, we decided to have a big cowboy party. He hadn't had a big party since his 3rd, and this one, the big 5, needed to be memorable. Everyone came and we were so glad for it! He's starting kinder this year, but I intend to have him in kinder next year too, as he's so young. I'd rather have him graduate a young 19 year old than a young 18 year old! He's having a blast and loves Ms. Poston. At home we do calendar work, practice writing, counting, sounding out letters, and have just starting reading. He's not yet there, but I'm sure next year he'll be rocking! I'm amazed at how good his handwriting has gotten, and how well he knows the sounds of the letters, and even learning to count up into the teens and twenties on his own.
Andrès turned nine this summer (again-!!!!) and had a small celebration for his birthday with his friend Nat and an apple pie rather than cake and ice cream. Simple and small. It was exactly what he wanted, but I hope that we can do something really sweet and special for his 10th next year. He's started 3rd grade with a new teacher this year, Mr. Peterson, who seems to be a good fit, so far. Andres is doing great in math! I've been so worried for the past three years, because 1st grade he hated it, 2nd grade wasn't much better, and this year we both had found that he gets it and might even like it a little. He's done a great job catching onto multiplication, which I was totally scared of teaching, but he's caught on quite fast. He's learning Latin, and doing a superb job, and still loves history and all things Roman. We've started doing geography and blob mapping in the classical manner, as well as started cursive handwriting.
I can't help but feel distracted by the pressures of the day, mostly financial, and try so hard to focus on my little boys. They're just growing so fast, and I'm dizzy at the speed at which time flies. Honestly, living as we do as homeschoolers on one income with one car has been a massive, unspeakable financial sacrifice. And the stress of making ends meets has not only burdened us, but crippled us at times. I wish I could ingore it, and just focus on my little guys, but it impacts them and what we're able to give them.
So far this year, we've held back on signing them up for any extra curricular activities, other than Andrès in choir and K2 at church. This is first year in K2, and he LOVES it. Meanwhile, Raphael is in the nursery playing with Abram and Joshua and he LOVES that. I've been wanting to get Raph into basketball and Andrès into flag football, but our money situation has been so dire that it's all been put on hold. I struggle with the guilt of that, like maybe we've hindered their growth somehow because they're not in all these activities like American kids are these days. But for our family, and for so many reasons, it's just not in our cards. And not once, for the record, have they ever asked to be in a sport, so it's not that they are pining for it, but I feel it's my job to expose them to skill-building opportunities, and as a homeschooler, I feel extra pressure to "socialize" them, too.
Aaron's searching for a better job, and has been since the summer. He's looking for something in the non-profit sector, something that not only gives him a raise which he needs and deserves, but something that he can believe is doing good work in the world. I pray that he lands that new job soon, for his sake and our family.
I look at my boys and marvel at them. They're smart, handsome, talented, and above all, the sweetest, most tender-hearted little men I've ever met. I'm so honored to be their mother, and so sad that I can't be the mother I wish I was for them. And I see my husband, who still makes me laugh and still shows me an unconditional love so profound that breaks my heart. I don't deserve this sweet, sweet life. But I am so grateful for it and so humbled by it.
Last year Andrès was in 2nd grade in home school with Evergreen Flex Academy, Cub Scouts, soccer, and choir at church. Raph was in preschool in Ms. Audrey's class and his nemesis, Braxton, who according to Raph, was a real trouble maker, and he always updated us on what sorts of naughty things Braxton did at school. Both of our boys were in a Spanish class on Saturdays in Portland, right next to a really cool up-cycled art supply store named SCRAP that had yarn-bombed trees in the front and jelly-fish hanging from the ceiling inside made of bottle caps and rummaged plastic parts. And from February to May, both boys were in a Christian-based home school co-op on Fridays. It was--needless to say--a very busy year.
Raph turned five (!!!) this spring, and since he's in love with a pair of cowboy boots, we decided to have a big cowboy party. He hadn't had a big party since his 3rd, and this one, the big 5, needed to be memorable. Everyone came and we were so glad for it! He's starting kinder this year, but I intend to have him in kinder next year too, as he's so young. I'd rather have him graduate a young 19 year old than a young 18 year old! He's having a blast and loves Ms. Poston. At home we do calendar work, practice writing, counting, sounding out letters, and have just starting reading. He's not yet there, but I'm sure next year he'll be rocking! I'm amazed at how good his handwriting has gotten, and how well he knows the sounds of the letters, and even learning to count up into the teens and twenties on his own.
Andrès turned nine this summer (again-!!!!) and had a small celebration for his birthday with his friend Nat and an apple pie rather than cake and ice cream. Simple and small. It was exactly what he wanted, but I hope that we can do something really sweet and special for his 10th next year. He's started 3rd grade with a new teacher this year, Mr. Peterson, who seems to be a good fit, so far. Andres is doing great in math! I've been so worried for the past three years, because 1st grade he hated it, 2nd grade wasn't much better, and this year we both had found that he gets it and might even like it a little. He's done a great job catching onto multiplication, which I was totally scared of teaching, but he's caught on quite fast. He's learning Latin, and doing a superb job, and still loves history and all things Roman. We've started doing geography and blob mapping in the classical manner, as well as started cursive handwriting.
I can't help but feel distracted by the pressures of the day, mostly financial, and try so hard to focus on my little boys. They're just growing so fast, and I'm dizzy at the speed at which time flies. Honestly, living as we do as homeschoolers on one income with one car has been a massive, unspeakable financial sacrifice. And the stress of making ends meets has not only burdened us, but crippled us at times. I wish I could ingore it, and just focus on my little guys, but it impacts them and what we're able to give them.
So far this year, we've held back on signing them up for any extra curricular activities, other than Andrès in choir and K2 at church. This is first year in K2, and he LOVES it. Meanwhile, Raphael is in the nursery playing with Abram and Joshua and he LOVES that. I've been wanting to get Raph into basketball and Andrès into flag football, but our money situation has been so dire that it's all been put on hold. I struggle with the guilt of that, like maybe we've hindered their growth somehow because they're not in all these activities like American kids are these days. But for our family, and for so many reasons, it's just not in our cards. And not once, for the record, have they ever asked to be in a sport, so it's not that they are pining for it, but I feel it's my job to expose them to skill-building opportunities, and as a homeschooler, I feel extra pressure to "socialize" them, too.
Aaron's searching for a better job, and has been since the summer. He's looking for something in the non-profit sector, something that not only gives him a raise which he needs and deserves, but something that he can believe is doing good work in the world. I pray that he lands that new job soon, for his sake and our family.
I look at my boys and marvel at them. They're smart, handsome, talented, and above all, the sweetest, most tender-hearted little men I've ever met. I'm so honored to be their mother, and so sad that I can't be the mother I wish I was for them. And I see my husband, who still makes me laugh and still shows me an unconditional love so profound that breaks my heart. I don't deserve this sweet, sweet life. But I am so grateful for it and so humbled by it.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Mastered
This spring was an inferno of stress and distress in nearly every countable way. It all culminated with Aaron's graduation in the middle of June, and that began our slow but eventual recovery into the world of "normal," as close as our family can ever be to "normal" anyway.
Words simply fail me. There's no English equivalent to express how proud I felt of Aaron when I saw him in his full cap and gown, his honors ropes, his Greek medal, his dedication yoke...no words. Not only have I watched this man from the beginning of his academic journey, but I've walked it with him. From that first quarter we lived in married student housing when he asked me to help him read the notes on a sheet of music for his first year theory class, to now transcribing 500 year old vihuela tablature and rewriting it in contemporary standard music notation for a chorus. The man demonstrated unspeakable strength, supernatural strength and endurance, as he not only supported this family single-handed for the past three years of grad school, but also worked full time as well--and graduated in his masters program with a 3.9 GPA.
I'm glad our boys get to witness their father's hard work and dedication to pursuing his dream, and I've been blessed to see the man become someone closer to the person God has called him to be.
Words simply fail me. There's no English equivalent to express how proud I felt of Aaron when I saw him in his full cap and gown, his honors ropes, his Greek medal, his dedication yoke...no words. Not only have I watched this man from the beginning of his academic journey, but I've walked it with him. From that first quarter we lived in married student housing when he asked me to help him read the notes on a sheet of music for his first year theory class, to now transcribing 500 year old vihuela tablature and rewriting it in contemporary standard music notation for a chorus. The man demonstrated unspeakable strength, supernatural strength and endurance, as he not only supported this family single-handed for the past three years of grad school, but also worked full time as well--and graduated in his masters program with a 3.9 GPA.
I'm glad our boys get to witness their father's hard work and dedication to pursuing his dream, and I've been blessed to see the man become someone closer to the person God has called him to be.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Four Years
I'm truly baffled by the span of time between then and now.
How can four years seem simultaneously brief and epic? So much has changed since you came into our lives, yet I can't imagine our lives without you being part of this family's cataclysmic evolution. Like a stained glass window with glowing shards of brilliant colors welded together with lead that can only truly show the art when the sun is out--you are that sunshine to me, to this family. There's a holiness in you, a low, glowing, warming holiness that humbles me.
Since the moment I held you, your soft chocolate curls under my chin, I felt fully content. You have gentle spirit, like your Papa's, and your grace and pensive nature are lovely to behold.
I wish we had been able to have the awesome "Cars" birthday party that I had been planning. I had created invites, and gotten RSVPs from friends and family. But with Aaron's testing schedules and school schedules, it was not going to happen. So for his big 5th birthday, I'm cooking up something special for my boy.
Raphael, there are so many ways you bless us each day with your grace, there are so many reasons why I'm so overjoyed that you're my boy and that you are in our lives, warming us with your sense of humor and your tenderest of hearts. You have completed our family, your are the table's forth leg, and without you, sweetheart, the rest of us couldn't stand up! We love you so, sweet boy. God bless you, and may this year, your forth year, preschool and swimming lessons, new friends and new teachers, be a year filled with healthy, happiness, and sweet glowing childhood memories and joy.
Since the moment I held you, your soft chocolate curls under my chin, I felt fully content. You have gentle spirit, like your Papa's, and your grace and pensive nature are lovely to behold.
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| sweetness |
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| the siren's call |
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| because who needs pants in the rain? |
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| so often there's a halo of light on him... or emanating from within him |
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| river walk |
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| here's my pensive boy |
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| I miss these curls. |
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| My wonderful wild, magical son. |
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| Halo on the 4th of July |
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| Pooltime! And again, a halo. |
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| One of my favorite images of Raphael. This when he was about two, and so perfectly reflects his dear and precious soul. |
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| Riding his little trike at three. |
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| This is why I love boys, and he epitomizes BOY. Wild, free spirited, glowing, and strong! |
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| Making some serious art. Raphael has an artist core, musically, visually, he sees things lost on most of us. |
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| Winter 2013, he loves the snow, what a daring boy, my Raph. |
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| Giving his homies, Leo, Mikey, Don and Raph (the other one) a shout out. |
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| "I gotta draw, Mom. I just need to draw." What he said upon waking up one morning. |
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| Seriously, the angels are jealous of this boy's sweet heart. |
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| You're not super until you're 12th Man Super! |
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| I love this shot of him crooning "Pizza Angel" over the cinnamon while we made breakfast on the day of his 4th birthday. |
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| Canvas is a precious commodity in our house, and on his birthday he got to paint. He wanted a shark, which I lined in ink and he carefully painted. He's gotten so good at painting, and he works so hard to be careful and even meticulous. |
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| Proud artist showing his upside down shark. What a wonderful job for such a little man on his 4th birthday! He has a gift, and we're wondering how he'll use it as he grows up. |
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| My little man mocked up tough-looking for the camera. |
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| Opening his gift from mom and dad on his birthday. |
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| Sprinkles and bunting for a four year old boy. He has the Heitzman sweet tooth! |
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| His sweet face. |
Raphael, there are so many ways you bless us each day with your grace, there are so many reasons why I'm so overjoyed that you're my boy and that you are in our lives, warming us with your sense of humor and your tenderest of hearts. You have completed our family, your are the table's forth leg, and without you, sweetheart, the rest of us couldn't stand up! We love you so, sweet boy. God bless you, and may this year, your forth year, preschool and swimming lessons, new friends and new teachers, be a year filled with healthy, happiness, and sweet glowing childhood memories and joy.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
A Leader
This came today in my email box from Andres' teacher at FLEX. There's no words for the comfort and joy it gives me to see him through her eyes when I'm not there to witness him in his raw spirit.
Andria,
I'm not sure if you know this but Andres is a favorite in our class and students fight over him. He always leads free choice activities and generally has 4 or 5 kids reenacting Roman wars. Its nice because he uses his powers for good and often tries to come up with fair ways to divide his time between his friends and always encourages everyone to play together. You have a great leader on your hands!
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Of Phoenicians and Bubbles
As I read from the history book, Andres nestled against me on the sofa. He stared outside into the blistery snowdrifts scattering about, and the wind pummeling the window. He was captured, completely still, listening as if there was a movie behind his eyes, which I'm sure there absolutely was, as if he blinked he would miss something.
"Have you ever used a straw to blow bubbles in milk?" The text prompted me, which engaged him, jolting him out of his reverie.
"Yes!"
"Well that is what made the ancient Phoenicians the best at glass making. They invented glass blowing, which they used a long metal pipe and dipped it into the sticky, melted glass, then they blow air from their lungs through the pipe into the glass, making a bubble at the end. And no one else had done it before, and no one at the time was doing anything like that. They were the best glass makers of their time."
Later at the end of our chapter, there were review questions, and one of the first ones seemed to be the most easy.
"What were the ancient Phoenicians the best at doing?"
Without skipping a beat, he blurted out, "Blowing bubbles in their milk!"
Naturally, we both cracked up, because of course we knew what he meant, but the visual of blowing milk bubbles was too strong of a schematic link, and it came to him without censor.
Later that night at the table, we were sharing our day with Papa over dinner, and Andres recounted the story. At the line where he fumbled, he burst into a giggle that quickly escalated into a chuckle, then before we knew it, we each were laughing around him, even Raph who was just moved by Andres' laughter and couldn't fully appreciate the punch line. It was so silly, the idea of these advanced ancient people blowing bubbles in their milk! The more he thought about it, the more he laughed, and we followed suit. It's the best kind of contagion, his laughter, and we were all blissfully infected.
It is hard, the home school thing. It's work, and it's time, and it's a give-a-thon akin to nursing, or potty training or any other intense part of parenting, but can be, and slowly is becoming more fun. I love it.
When I can remember not to take it all too seriously, when I can remember that being his teacher is my J.O.B., when I can remember that he's still oh so young, and I should be impressed that he not only knows how to say "polytheistic," but can describe the ancient Romans and Egyptians as being such, I am humbled, and fearsomely inspired by who he is. Not who he will become one day, but as he is now, he is amazing. He is a marvel.
When he laughs his trademark heart-moving laugh, and his dimples pierce his almond cheeks, and his deep, keen eyes are pressed into dark-lashed crescents, the symphony of him as a person moves my soul.
And it's my bet he's right. If the Phoenicians were best at blowing glass, then there's a mighty good chance they were also the ancient world's best at blowing bubbles in their milk.
"Have you ever used a straw to blow bubbles in milk?" The text prompted me, which engaged him, jolting him out of his reverie.
"Yes!"
"Well that is what made the ancient Phoenicians the best at glass making. They invented glass blowing, which they used a long metal pipe and dipped it into the sticky, melted glass, then they blow air from their lungs through the pipe into the glass, making a bubble at the end. And no one else had done it before, and no one at the time was doing anything like that. They were the best glass makers of their time."
Later at the end of our chapter, there were review questions, and one of the first ones seemed to be the most easy.
"What were the ancient Phoenicians the best at doing?"
Without skipping a beat, he blurted out, "Blowing bubbles in their milk!"
Naturally, we both cracked up, because of course we knew what he meant, but the visual of blowing milk bubbles was too strong of a schematic link, and it came to him without censor.
Later that night at the table, we were sharing our day with Papa over dinner, and Andres recounted the story. At the line where he fumbled, he burst into a giggle that quickly escalated into a chuckle, then before we knew it, we each were laughing around him, even Raph who was just moved by Andres' laughter and couldn't fully appreciate the punch line. It was so silly, the idea of these advanced ancient people blowing bubbles in their milk! The more he thought about it, the more he laughed, and we followed suit. It's the best kind of contagion, his laughter, and we were all blissfully infected.
It is hard, the home school thing. It's work, and it's time, and it's a give-a-thon akin to nursing, or potty training or any other intense part of parenting, but can be, and slowly is becoming more fun. I love it.
When I can remember not to take it all too seriously, when I can remember that being his teacher is my J.O.B., when I can remember that he's still oh so young, and I should be impressed that he not only knows how to say "polytheistic," but can describe the ancient Romans and Egyptians as being such, I am humbled, and fearsomely inspired by who he is. Not who he will become one day, but as he is now, he is amazing. He is a marvel.
When he laughs his trademark heart-moving laugh, and his dimples pierce his almond cheeks, and his deep, keen eyes are pressed into dark-lashed crescents, the symphony of him as a person moves my soul.
And it's my bet he's right. If the Phoenicians were best at blowing glass, then there's a mighty good chance they were also the ancient world's best at blowing bubbles in their milk.
Friday, February 7, 2014
And the Academy Goes to...
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