Me: “Ohhhkaaayyyy….”

Eli: “My good deed is that I sneak around and refill the soap bottles when no one is looking!”

(Have I mentioned lately how much I love that kid?)

Me: (Laughing) “Well, I think that is awesome. I sure wish the Soap Spartan would drop by the kitchen today.”

Eli: “OK!” (Running off to get the refill bottle from the bathroom.)

I knew that I would love being a Mom, but I had no clue how utterly entertaining it could be!

I guess one could say that each number was cool, big, nice and “graet”.

When asked about the misspelling of “great”, he said, “Mom…you always taught me, ‘When two vowels go walking, the first one does the talking and says it’s name.’ So, it can’t be spelled ‘g-r-E-a-t’….then it would be pronounced ‘greet.’”

I just love homeschooling!

They serve toast, popcorn, pretzels, jellybeans and ice cream sundaes.

My dinner plate with slightly burned cheese toast — just as I like it — on a fun, turkey-printed paper plate. They only had plain buttered toast in the Charlie Brown special, but I figured we could use a little protein!

I’m always busy cooking the night before Turkey Day, so having something so simple and fun for dinner is ideal to me! And the kids just love this little tradition. This was the first year that Jonah really knew what was going on. When he first saw his dinner plate, he did a double-take, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune to climb into his chair and find a plate heaped with popcorn, pretzels AND candy! I couldn’t even get him to sit down for a while — he just stood there, happily shoveling popcorn into his mouth.

I love my family! And I love Thanksgiving!

And yes, I love my crazy husband with his totally goofy expressions!

In other Thanksgiving news, just for fun, I had the boys fill in a turkey poem prompt as part of their schoolwork this week. (Each sentence began with phrases to describe the turkey, such as, “It needs….” “It moves….” and they filled in the rest.)

What they came up with just cracked me up! Disturbing? Maybe if you aren’t accustomed to the ways of boys. And these sons of mine are utterly, totally, testosterone-charged BOYS!

Here is Zach’s:

It sees the gun in its face.

It hears the pump cock.

It feels the shiver down its spine.

It understands that it’s going to become dinner.

It moves left to right.

It needs to get out of sight!

It likes to get an adrenaline rush.

It wants a chase through the woods.

It eats one last berry, for good.

It dreams, asleep forever. It’s dead.

And Eli’s, with a rather humorous twist:

It sees the bazooka from far away.

It hears the bazooka fire.

It feels scared.

It understands its death.

It moves out of the way.

It needs pie.

It likes man.

It wants the man.

It eats the man.

It dreams good.

The end.

(My goofy boy modeling last year’s Halloween glasses.)

We have a handy-dandy globe that shows all the features of the earth, but without labels. It’s very useful for reviewing geography, because they can’t just read me the names like they could on a traditional globe. We used it today to review the names of continents and oceans. Eli, in a moment of forgetfulness, couldn’t recall the name of Antarctica.

I decided to give him a clue. “It’s the south pole….it’s ant…ANT….”

“Antarctica!” he shouted.

Then my little comedian smirked, pointed to the north pole and said, “So that must be Uncle Arctica up here!”

These kids of mine — they keep me laughing!

It’s a drawing and letter from one of our Compassion International kids, 5-year-old Aphichara from Thailand.

Isn’t the Thai writing just beautiful? (Of course, at 5, she dictated this to an adult who wrote it, then another person translated it for us.)

Her nickname is “Eye.” (Please don’t ask me why, because I have no idea what it means! LOL) One Thai friend suggested it might mean “shy”, another said it could mean “big.” According to what I know about her so far, she is neither shy nor big, but maybe one day, she’ll tell me herself how she acquired that name.

This is the first picture we received of her. Isn’t she precious?

And this is one that came with our new letter. She’s with her grandmother, smiling and her haircut is so cute!

I learned that Eye lives with her grandparents,  is 44 inches tall and weighs 39 pounds. Her favorite foods are watermelon and boiled eggs, she has a pet dog, she loves singing, and is very talkative in school. And I got a girly-girl! She also loves playing with dolls, her favorite flower is jasmine, and her favorite color is PINK!

I finally have a reason to buy paper dolls and sparkly princess cards and Hello Kitty stickers — all PINK!  LOL And I can use the previously-neglected girly accents in my photo editing…

I first learned about Compassion through Amanda’s and Kristen’s blogs, and was mesmerized by these moms’ stories about their sponsored children. They spoke about how much their families’ lives have been enriched by the relationships they’ve built with these children, and even told about going on trips to visit them. And I felt that all-too-familiar tugging at my mother’s heart to get involved.

We are not rich by American standards; if anything, we are on the poorer side of “middle class.” So it was a stretch financially to take on any new commitments. But God has shown me again and again that He blesses those who give, so I don’t have to be afraid to share a portion of our budget in charitable giving. I love how Compassion uses our small offering to be Jesus’ hands and feet to a needy, hurting child and her family, to bless them in His name.

I’m not writing about this to pat myself on the back. Rather, it’s to share about our experience and hopefully encourage others to do the same. It’s so easy here in America — where even our poorest live richer than most of the world’s population — to dwell on what we don’t have, to envy those who are wealthier than us and simply not think about the realities of living in extreme poverty.

But we need to think about it. We gripe if our clothes are more than a year or two old, not considering what it would be like to own exactly one outfit and no shoes. We buy expensive filters to further purify the already-clean drinking water that flows from our tap, while others walk for miles to bring home one pail of questionable-quality water. We get mad if the restaurant cooks our steak wrong, while others are just thankful to have a bowl of rice, only on some days of the week. We complain that we need a bigger bed, while half the world has never had the privilege of even owning a mattress.

We think nothing of dropping substantial sums on life’s frills, such as cable TV, a cell phone upgrade, or taking the family to the movies. But in India, a family of four tries to live on $37 per month, in a house built of mud, with dirt floors and a grass roof, like 12-year-old Basu, our correspondence Compassion child.

We were matched with Basu when I learned of Compassion’s correspondence program. If you truly can’t afford to sponsor a child (or another one, as the case may be) you can ask about being matched with one just as a pen-pal. Some kids, like Basu, have sponsors that pay the monthly sponsorship but for various reasons, never write. These kids are so disappointed to never hear their name called on mail day! So it’s an honor to be able to encourage them through prayer, letters and by sending things like stickers, paper airplanes, greeting cards and basically anything else made of paper that kids enjoy having. (The “paper only” rule is due to postal regulations.) We might actually ask for another correspondence child or two, because writing to them really is so much fun!

I waited to tell Zach and Eli about Eye and Basu until our first day of homeschooling this year. I wasn’t sure what their reactions would be — they’re great kids, but I thought they’d be all hum-drum, oh, mom’s found us another hobby, OK, whatever…

But I was delightfully, blessedly, humbly wrong. I’m sure I’ll write more about this in the months to come, but they were both completely enthralled with “adopting” these kids into our family. They immediately wanted to know how they could send them money, then asked a dozen questions about each child. Then they wanted to look up information about Thailand and India, and promised to pray for them daily. And they have honored that promise– a few times I’ve forgotten and they’re like, “Mom — we have to pray for Eye and Basu!” And then we do. It’s been utterly heartwarming to see their generous spirits further expand and to read the letters they so carefully wrote for each of these children. It has given my sons an entirely new perspective on just how blessed we are and how much we all have to give.

Please — click the link in my sidebar to learn more about Compassion and to see some of the cutest kids on the planet. And if your heart feels stirred as mine did, prayerfully consider that maybe God is also nudging you to sponsor one of those precious little souls. The needs are just so great, and we can help — we truly can — if we are willing.

“For everyone to whom much is given, of him shall much be required…” ~Luke 12:48

Our normally chaotic household of five has been reduced to a family of three this week. It has been so very odd, and so unusually quiet, with Eli in Florida with his grandparents and Zach away at camp. Poor little Jonah keeps toddling around, asking for his “Zzzat” and “E-la-la” and I know he must be wondering where the heck they vanished to. Of course, not even two yet, he doesn’t understand their absence.

The experts tell us that toddlers can understand twenty times the number of words they can say. Since Jonah says around 80 different things, I suppose he can understand thousands of words and maybe on some level, he does comprehend that he’ll see his beloved brothers again in a few days?

Regardless, I know I’ll be glad to get back to our usual craziness. I miss feeling the energetic presence of my older boys. Even when they’re holed up in their room, playing video games, I can still feel that they’re here. And the house feels so empty without them.

My husband has had a particularly rough time of it, as this is the first time we’ve ever had both older boys away from home at once. Several times since we dropped Zachary at camp Sunday, Donnie has commented, “I don’t know if I’m going to let this happen again.”

And he said it again last night as he did the dishes, although then there was a practical reason for missing his sons. He and I never do the dishes anymore, having delegated that chore to the boys ages ago.

I’ve had to pick up their chores as well, feeling their absence when I have to feed the pets morning and night, when the dog needs letting out, and when I’m trying to work and there’s no one here to entertain Jonah for half an hour.

I don’t just miss the work they do—right now I’d love to hear a silly knock-knock joke or get a fierce, skinny-armed hug from my nine-year-old. I might even welcome a sigh and eye-rolling from my teenager, which is bound to come if he ever reads this.

On the long drive home from camp, as Jonah dozed, Donnie and I talked about the reality of having an empty nest someday, and how fast our kids are growing up. In just a few years, it won’t be a matter of Donnie deciding if our older sons can be away from home at the same time—they just will be. And realizing how much we love them and how much we dread that day, well—it was really all quite depressing.

This week has been a sample taste of what we’re raising them for. After all, we don’t raise kids to have kids forever—we bring them up in the hope that someday, they will leave home. It’s our goal that we end up with confident, strong adults who can stand on their own two feet, independent of their parents.

So we have to encourage times like this, even if these separations make our tender mama-and-daddy hearts ache a little—or a lot.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to smile or cry when Zach wanted to hurriedly usher us out the door of his cabin. All last week, he couldn’t talk about anything else but getting to camp. When we arrived, a group of his friends called out of the window, “Zach is here! Zach’s here!” and he eagerly joined them as they ran off into the woods like a pack of gangly-legged, pimpled puppies.

And I realized how much my boy has matured since his timid little preschool days, when he cried each morning as I dropped him off. Sunday was one of those moments where I figured we must’ve done something right as his parents, for him to feel so confident this first time away from home without family nearby.

This morning I cuddled my little Jonah, thankful that my youngest son pushes back the time that we’ll face a truly empty nest. Raising them up, then letting them go—it’s what parents are supposed to do. But oh, how precious and very fleeting are these childhood years.

I tell him that it goes in the cabinet, on the shelf under the peanut butter, with the other oils.

He leaves, then yells from the kitchen, his voice slightly muffled as his head is in the cabinet, “Wow. So THAT’S what oil looks like when it’s not in a blast can!”

It’s funny how you don’t think about things like that, how my kids have always seen me grab the can of Pam when it comes to oiling a cookie sheet or frying an egg. Just grab a can, and spray.

Ah, the wonder of seeing liquid oil inside a real glass bottle! LOL

1. What was the best thing that happened to you this week?

Discovering a pool that we like and will join for the summer! Now if we can just get Jonah to like it–he was NOT impressed when we went yesterday, to say the least…

The worst?

Overall, it was a good week, so…I apologize in advance for being kind of gross, but trying to figure out why Jonah keeps having icky, mucus-filled, runny poop when he’s clearly not sick. I don’t know what’s messing up the poor tot’s tummy.

2. What’s the best thing someone’s done for you (recently or not so recently)?

Any time someone has given sacrificially of their time or resources, man…nothing humbles you more or makes you feel more loved!

What’s the worst thing someone’s done to you (again, recently or not so recently)?

Without naming names, when people we thought we were close to totally used us. No, that wasn’t the worst…the worst was when someone has hurt one of my kids. Grrr….

3. What’s the best thing about your job?

Which one? LOL I’d have to say the best thing about all the work I do is that I get to do it at home and be with my kids.

Worst?

Again, which one? LOL Probably my biggest gripe is dealing with companies that aren’t willing to pay what a piece of writing is worth–and particularly ones who want writers to work for free. Yeah, there’s nothing else we want to be doing with our time than creating content that will pad your pockets while we go broke. GREAT way to do business.

4. What’s the best new website you’ve found?

Groupon.com — got an excellent deal for half-off clothing at Old Navy this week!

Worst?

Honestly can’t think of one…

5. What’s the best book you’ve read?

Besides the Bible? Probably the Little House on the Prairie series. It’s like comfort food in a book…I still love reading them even as an adult.

Worst?

Self-aggrandizing “auto” biographies…because you know they hired a ghostwriter to make themselves sound good.

6. What’s the best movie you’ve seen?

Way too many to list, but recently, it was “Shrek Forever After”. Such a cute, fun, entertaining story!

Worst?

That’s a toughie, because I don’t last more than a minute through bad movies. Oh, wait…there was that two hours of my life I wasted on “Chicago” thinking it would get better. But it never did. Just thinking about it makes me shudder. HOW did that piece of tripe win so many awards?

7. What’s the best meal you’ve had?

I’ll have to go with recent best, and that was the meal my sister and I shared at a Thai restaurant two weeks ago. MMM!

Worst?

A bowl of cereal. I know, plenty of folks love the stuff, but it’s very rare that I ever choose to eat it. I have issues with cereal.

8. What’s the best holiday?

Christmas!

Worst?

Ummm…Obama’s birthday? LOL

9. What’s the best thing in your future?

Hopefully, granddaughters–lots of ‘em! I am way overdue for someone to have tea parties with.

Worst?

Dealing with this stupid autoimmune disease that’s flaring up today. I keep praying for a really long remission like a friend of mine has had for ten years. It can happen!

Click HERE to play along and create your own best and worst list!

Perfect Attendance.

Good Citizenship.

Honor Student.

Reading awards! Writing awards! Math awards! They’re everywhere! But hey, when my kids were in school, I bragged about them, too.

In all honesty, it is one of the bummers about homeschooling. Though we have groups we attend and the kids are involved in extracurricular activities, their school-years scrapbooks are going to be rather devoid of any official certificates declaring how smart, creative and friendly they are.

But I guess I really don’t need a piece of paper from a practical stranger to tell me those things, and I don’t really need a certificate in hand to comment on how awesome my kids are.

Because I have this blog and I can tell you now: they are pretty darn awesome.

When I hear someone share, “My kid got an award for having all ‘A’s'!” I want to respond, “My kids got all A’s, too!” Because it’s true: we make sure the kids have mastered material before moving on. And we don’t waste time on “fluff” or busy-work that makes for easily-earned 100′s in a grade-book. Homeschooling acceptance has come a long way, but still…somehow, people often count an “A” from a mother as less-valuable than an “A” from a schoolteacher.

When I hear, “My kid earned a certificate for perfect attendance!” I think, “Mine did, too!” Because they were here every single day we had instruction…all 180 of ‘em! LOL

And then there are those who remark about how hard their kids worked to earn their honor student accolades. I’m sure that they did work hard. Unfortunately, articles like this one and this blog mirror other studies I’ve read that state a dismally-increasing number of college freshmen require remedial classes—even those who were considered at the top of their class in high school—which leaves me wondering whether “honor student” credentials from a school still mean what they did even 20 years ago.

One of my kids has a friend who always says that homeschooling is so easy compared to the work he does at school. I can see how it might appear that way, but every homeschooling kid I know is a hard worker.

Not only that, I haven’t met many traditionally-schooled 7th-grade boys who can successfully learn Latin roots with a toddler climbing up his leg and shoving jellybeans in his ear! Talk about learning Life Skills! LOL

So as the end of our school year at home approaches, I want to publicly pat my boys on the back and let them know how proud I am of them.

Well done, boys—well done.

Behold Eli’s spelling page from today:

He overheard Zach and I discussing “picturesque” scenes as we worked on Z’s Vocabulary from Classical Roots lesson. So Eli got distracted and drew one scene we discussed: a picnic on a hilltop on a sunny day.

(The blue box above is where he drew the contrast between a stormy night on the left, and a sunny day on the right.)

But wait! That’s not all! Here is the illustration drawn sideways on the top of his spelling page. (Turned and conveniently labeled with arrows pointing to the various elements of his drawing.)

Should I be glad that he remembered the science documentary we watched, that featured the Shearwater, these amazing fishing birds that can dive up to 70 meters below the surface of the sea? Or should he be in trouble for goofing off and doodling, because we all know no public school teacher would put up with that?

I just find it so amusing, how both he and Zach are prone to doodling, just like their parents were. (OK, are!)  I guess that double-dose of artistic genes they received has to be expressed somehow?