that middle kid

this girl.



about 3 blinks ago, she was in my arms.



and then she was bounding around- bouncing her curls with every step.



samuel recently got a calendar. he saw in the month of april that there was a day labelled, "Take Your Son or Daughter to Work Day." he immediately inquired and the deal was sealed.

so, this past April, he went off to work with his dad. he drank coffee and worked at the computer. it was fantastic.

i was left at home with that girl and this dude.



just the three of us. oh, friends. it was such a nice morning. kate and i made granola. we read a pile of library books. we colored together.

as the morning continued i was struck by how often i did these things every single day with samuel when he was kate's age. but now my mornings are filled with educating samuel, trying to teach kate a few things along the way, and hoping zeke doesn't wake up before math is finished. the simple joy of preschool tasks are lost. they don't usually stand a chance.

i know that not every kid can be the first-born. i know that there are gives and takes all over these education decisions we make. no choice is perfect.

but the difference struck me. my little girl doesn't get to do simple things with me at home. not often. activities and schooling is usually catered to the bigger kid in the house.



well, not this summer. this summer i am going to strive to create at least one activity a week specifically designed for that beautiful middle kid. i'm going to try. i hope to report back here. i hope i will actually follow through. i hope that i will take the opportunity that these freer days offer.

if you are a home-educator, is this an issue you have thought through and considered? any tips/help/wisdom you could offer would be appreciated.

hope your summer is arriving soon. we started ours this week. the breeze is blowing through the windows. i hear laughter coming from outside. oh hopeful summer, welcome.

taking pictures

i know it's totally cliche. been said so very many times.



but i'm finding it true around here these days.



the picture ratio is startling.

this dude is getting neglected. 

and it's sad. there is so much cuteness to capture. my camera is missing it. 

but it's not just him i'm missing.

so many beautiful things are passing by undocumented.
i miss my camera. 

this 3 kids deal is no joke. i know i only have 3. a lot of you have more. but with the 3 kids-- the meals, the little people at my ankles, the educating and the dirt/leaves/paper bits everywhere, the camera has stayed in the hall closet. 

i took my camera out a few days ago. because i know this neglect is happening. i took it in my hand and walked around. 

there is beauty everywhere, friends. my camera helps me see. i hope i can make this camera-grabbing a habit again. it truly helps me see all that good stuff that is right in front of my face. sometimes i need it to appear before me in a nice neat box in order to really see. and hopefully, i'll nab a few more shots of my littlest cutie in the process. 

good days.

oh you guys. i know. it has been a month. wow.



i often have half-thoughts that fill my head. and that has been very true these past weeks. ideas rattling around in there that don't quite make sense yet. thoughts about sorrow and the joy and weight of burdens shared, this mom-gig and how rough and awesome it can be. the list goes on. a jumble of thoughts. a mix-up of easy/hard, light/heavy, and all that's in-between.



it really is the way it goes, isn't it?





our days, lives, minds reach into so many things.



maybe that's one of the joys of writing in a space like this-- i more regularly sit and try to sift through all of it. the photos of the days. the rememberings of the realities, and the half-thoughts come back. ask to be finished.

oh these days are surprising, aren't they? so consistently filled with so much.





i was at something in the evening a couple of days ago where i chatted with a few people. each person asked me how my day had been. each time the question was asked, i paused. i know they wanted a genuine answer. but i didn't know how to give it.

the day had been full of, what felt like, every emotion under the sun. i handled some things with my kids well, some things really badly. i surrendered the matters of my heart to God, and also clung to them with my grimy fingers. i thought of friends and heavy matters- i felt a heavy hopelessness. i also thought of them and remembered His great love and abounding provision.

each day ends up being a mishmash. a collective of so much.



so, the answer i gave them was: "good. it was a good day."

and, i suppose, aren't they all?