Typing Curriculum Review - A Homeschooling Post

~Just a quickie curriculum review, as I certainly want to continue with some homeschooling helps on this blog.

http://www.mavisbeacon.com/

   Noelle noticed last summer when she attended Writing Camp at UMO that most kids could type fairly well.  I noticed that Noelle's friend, CB, who is a little older, can type very well.  I asked how she learned and that is how I heard about this program.  I have since recommended it to another homeschooling friend.  Her son is now using it and my friend decided to sharpen up her skills too, as the software works with all levels.  

   I give Mavis Beacon a hearty thumbs up.  It's easy to use and includes games which Noelle has found useful.  It tracks typing speed and accuracy.  

  I guess that's it!  

The Story's Not Over Yet - A Spiritual Life Post

by Max Lucado

   The message of Easter is clear- the story's not over yet.  We haven't heard the punchline, and we haven't finished the battle.  Don't be premature in your judgements or too final in your opinion.  The Judge hasn't returned, and the jury isn't in.
   The story isn't over yet.  All that needs to be said hasn't been said.  And all that will be seen hasn't been seen.
   That's good news.  If your eyes have ever moistened at the newsreels of the hungry, remember the story's not over yet.  If you've ever been bewildered as you beheld pain triumph over peace - keep the Easter message in mind.  The story's not over yet.
   If you've ever found your fists clenched in rage as you read of the atrocities at Auschwitz, I've got something to show you.  If you've stood distraught as you hear stories of yet another hijacking... another serial murderer... another child beating, there is a verse I want you to consider.
   Or perhaps your feelings are more personal.  Maybe the ugly moments in history and open wounds of our day have dared to leave your television screen and enter your house.
   Maybe you've buried a child whose body was broken by a reckless driver.  Maybe your child had never called you daddy.  Maybe the one who promised to love you forever loved you for only as long as it was convenient.  Maybe you've suffered personally from the cruelties in the world.  Maybe the shadow of the question mark has blackened your door.
   Maybe you have asked, "Why?"
  "The rain on the unjust I can understand... but why the just?"  "To suffer the consequences of my sins makes sense, but why should I pay for the sin of others?"  "Why the innocent?"  "Why the children?"  "Why the pure?"  "Why me?"
   Hard questions.  Necessary questions.  Questions surfaced by a perplexing passage in Matthew.
  Is there any passage in Scripture bloodier than then the killing of the children by the soldiers of Herod?  Though not specifically described, its bloody footprints are left between the lines of these verses.

"When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.  Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

'A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.' "  -Matthew 2:16-18

   It's a grisly scene:  horses galloping, mothers with small boys running and screaming.  The flashing of weapons.  The flow of innocent blood.  The sudden stillness of tiny hands.  Mothers clutching lifeless bodies to blood-soaked breasts.
   It's a scene of swords piercing the innocent.
   No justification.  No explanation.  Just cruel carnage.  A senseless slaughter.
   And during it all, a fat king sits on a throne less than ten miles away, blind to the tears he has summoned, deaf to the anguish he has caused.  Herod drinks wine the color of the blood he is spilling.
   The wail heard in Bethlehem echoes through the stars.  A chorus of chaos refusing to be comforted.  A thousand tears with one voice, a hundred hearts with one question.
   "Why?"

***

   The composer  of this chaos watches from a nearby mountain.  With each flash of the sword, he claps.  With each plunge of the dagger, he gloats.
   Evil at its worst.  Blackness at its darkest.
   This madman sheds no tears for the young-dead.  He is intent on only one thing:  killing the Christ before He leaves the cradle.
   And when the ravage is completed and the madman knows he has failed, he curses, swirls around, and returns to his pit.

***

   Thirty years later, the other moment for which Satan has waited arrives.  He is repeating his drama of desolation.  Once again he is slaughtering the innocent.

   Once again swords flash and feet scamper.  Once again a spineless king called Herod is a pawn in the play.  Once again there are the tears of a mother who wonders why.  Once again flesh is torn.  Once again there are the cries of anguish.

   Once again Satan is trying to kill life itself.  

   This time he has Him where he wants Him.  God on a cross.  The One who escaped him in Bethlehem is bolted to a tree.  Satan applauds as the skin is ripped.  "This time You won't get away!"

   A spear breaks through Jesus' ribs.  Once again the innocent is pierced.

   "I have done it!" The madman dances amidst the demons.  "I have won!"

   But the claim is premature.

   For the crucified One who descends the spiral stairway into the cavern of death is not a defeated messiah. And He has not come to surrender.  Far from it.  He is a creator, and He has come to reclaim His own.

   He has come to storm the gates of death.

   He scatters the demons and rips open the prison doors.  He takes captivity captive and frees the faithful.

   You can be sure of one thing.  Among the voices that sing His welcome are His Bethlehem brothers.  They died that He might escape.  He has now died that they might escape.  They died that He might live.  And now, He's returned to return the favor.

   The Easter announcement if clear.  Victory is secure.  Wails of Bethlehem will turn into the victories of Calvary.  Don't forget that.

   The next time the soldiers of Satan steal the joy from your arms.

   The next time your prayers float into a silent sky.

   The next time you wonder how God could sit still while the innocent suffer.

   Remember, the story's not over yet.  Remember the Easter Jesus rescued the imprisoned and remember... He is coming to do it again.

**********************************

   We read this tonight during our family time.  We've been doing quite a few Scripture readings leading up to this Easter time.  I have a goal to make Easter a "bigger" holiday in our family than Christmas.  We are far from there yet, but I'm working on it.  

   As I was copying Max Lucado's words for this post, I wanted to underline some, bold some, and put some in italics.  I decided not to, because this post will speak to individuals in different ways, depending on our perspective.  I don't want to detract from that.

  Happy Holy Week.

2 years ago, celebrating Palm Sunday.

Let's Celebrate!! - A Wendy Post!

When I was in junior high I won a book at Sandy Cove Bible Camp:  Shadows Don't Hurt by Linda Massey Weddle.  The book starts out like this:

"I think we must be the only family in the world who celebrates Arbor Day and Benjamin Franklin's birthday.  You see, it's because of my mom.  She believes that life itself is a celebration, so she makes green Jell-O in honor of the trees, and she ices cakes with squiggles of lightninglike frosting in honor of Ben."

 This book really made an impression on me, and even back then, I thought- "I want to be that kind of mom."  I came about this quite honestly, because my mom threw birthday parties like no other!  My mom will often nowadays marvel at something I've cooked or made or made time for, but I think she's forgotten all that she used to do for us!

My birthday is the day before Halloween, so I had plenty of Halloween-themed parties.  I think this is also in part because Mom bought a Halloween-themed cake pan that could be decorated a number of ways, and we wanted to get our money's worth!  For one party, she had a "witch" come.  The witch took us in the basement and told a story of a little girl who was killed, (I can't remember if the witch killed her, or what!).  She then brought out bags of body parts.  We had to stick our hand in each bag and guess what body part was in there!  By the way, I had plenty of sweet, doll-type parties too!

My mom and dad also celebrated Children's Day every year, including giving us each a present.  (I never hear about Children's Day nowadays.  You?)  We made May baskets and I was encouraged to make crafts and cards for nearly any holiday I wanted to.

The writing was probably on the wall when, as a highschooler, I put out cards on Christmas Eve for all the reindeer and as a college student I was still leaving letters for Santa.  Keep in mind that I never for one second actually believed in Santa.  In fact, I popped that bubble for my best friend, Bethany, when we were in second grade.  After that I learned that it's best not to share the truth about Santa!

Today is the first day of Spring, so of course we celebrated.  How can one not celebrate??  (This will be a repeat for you if you are my facebook friend.)

It's odd, because I don't have a particularly sunny personality, and I'm kind-of a low-energy-type person, but I Looovee to celebrate.

April Fool's Day

 The Olympics

Birthdays, (of course- have a million of those.)

Fall

President's Day

Leap Year/Day

The list could go on and on, really.

I don't have a lot of use for New Year's Eve, New Year's Day or St. Patrick's Day, but I still have made homemade fortune cookies for New Year's Day and this year we did green jello pinwheels for St. Patrick's Day.

All that to say, please know that although this is my thing, don't feel guilty, because we each have a thing.  Or several things.

One of my things is not decorating!  At some point after moving to Carmel my lovely mother brought me two tablecloths.  She then mentioned that perhaps my home could use some fabric!  It's true!  I have almost no curtains or carpet and things are a little plain-jane around here.  Actually, they are messy and plane-jane.

Sometimes I have a hard time getting past my own imperfection to celebrate, even though it is my thing.  A few years ago I began doing Secret Keeper Girl dates with the girls.  (If you aren't familiar with them, and have 8-12 year old girls in your life, check them out!)

www.secretkeepergirl.com

Anyway, I had a hard week, I was stressed, and the house was a WRECK.  Our first date was supposed to be a feminine, lovely, tea party and I did not have one clean room in my house.  I had made some fun food and I purchased a teacup to give to Noelle and a mug to give to Denali.  However, I wasn't feeling it.  My heart was just NOT in it.  I prayed about it, took a deep breath and confronted the ugly truth that life is not perfect, I am not perfect, and we oh-so-often have to take Plan B, (C, D, E, F...), and run with it.  With a better outlook, I set up a card table outside in the beautiful outdoors and it seemed enchanting.  Only I knew that my feelings had followed my action, and not the other way around.

Enjoy your thing, whatever it is that God has given you.  Maybe it is

being funny

gardening

hair & make-up

animals

sports

botany

I don't know what it is.  But I bet you do!

I admire my homeschooling friend who can cook truly gourmet meals and make beautiful paper snowflakes.  I adore my cousin who has such a way with words - 

www.tryingnot2blink.com

It would be lovely if my kiddos had a clue, an ever-loving CLUE about sports, especially since I always liked sports, was even a P.E. teacher.  But it is not their thing.  Today Micah said, "I have no idea what people are talking about at basketball games, so I just say whatever they are saying, 'Rebound!'."

Your family is soooo blessed by your thing.

God can use your thing.

Enjoy your thing.  

To a Sleeping Beauty - A Parenting Post

(I find this invokes more tears if you read it aloud!!)

You can also listen to a recording by Jimmy Dean.

I understand this was written by L. Markes.  I was first introduced to this when I was in 6th grade & our basketball coach, Rick Cortis, gave us a copy of it.  I've always liked it.

To a Sleeping Beauty

Dear daughter I tiptoed to your room tonight
And I looked down at you smiling in your sleep
You were so lovely my heart nearly broke
And I thought how very much like sleeping beauty a little girl is
When I tuck you in at night I never know how old you'll be when you wake
One evening you crawl on your dad's lap and throw your arms around his neck
The next morning you might be much too grownup for that sort of thing 

You're so quickly approachin' my awkward age
Too young to drive a car and yet too old to be carried
Into the house half asleep on daddy's shoulder
I have a secret that I've never told you Sleeping Beauty
You're going on a very exciting trip
You'll travel from yesterday all the way to tomorrow
It's a rapid journey and you'll travel light
Leavin' behind your measles mumps freckles bumps bubblegum and me






I promise not to feel too hurt when you discover
That the world is more important than your daddy's lap
Yesterday you were blue-jeaned and pig-tailed the neighborhood's best tree-climber
Tomorrow you'll be blue-organdie and ponny-tailed
And you'll view the world from a loftier perch a pair of high-heel shoes





Yesterday you could mend a doll's broken leg with a hug
Tomorrow you'll be able to break a young man's heart with a kiss
Ha ha yesterday you could get lost one aisle away from me in a supermarket
Now I have to worry about losin' you down another aisle to some strange young man
You see just at the point where your growing pains stop mine begin
Yesterday you were kind of a pain in the neck when you were around
Tomorrow you'll be an ache in my heart when you're not





Tomorrow you'll lay aside your jumprope and tie up the telephone lines
And that little boy that used to push you in the mud
Well he'll fight to set out a dance with you
The clock upstairs is countin' the minutes for you
And the sky upstairs is savin' its brightest stars
And the sun is waitin' with its shinest day




Oh I can't expect you to live in a dollhouse forever
Sooner or later the butterfly sheds its cocoon and the smallest bird must try its wings
But when you grow up and out of my arms when you finally get too big for my shirts
I'll still recall how you used to scatter dust and dolls
And partially through every room in the house but you spread sunshine too
The dust is settled your mom picked up the dolls
But the sunshine will always fill the corners of our hearts




So here I am talkin' in your sleep
Because well if you saw this look on my face you'd laugh
And if I spoke with this lump in my throat I'd cry
Yeah honey when I looked at you tonight you were a Sleeping Beauty
So I tiptoed over and I kissed you you didn't wake up I knew you wouldn't
According to the legend only the handsome young prince can open your eyes
And I'm just the father of a future bride








So you sleep on pretty thing tomorrow you'll awake and you'll be a young lady
And you won't even realize that you've changed courses in the middle of a dream
But you might notice this little change in me
I look a little different somehow a little sadder a little wiser but a whole lot richer
Tonight I kissed a princess and I feel like a king

The Times They are a- Changin' - A Parenting Post

"As the present nowWill later be pastThe order isRapidly fadin'.. the times they - they are a-changin'..."-Bob Dylan

Gone are the playdate days.

Well, mostly.  
It's in the air- change & adolescence & the movement toward independence, all as it is supposed to be.  I also know that the beginnings of boy stuff is in the air.  (gulp.)
Please do not think that I am pushing my dearest ones toward relationship.  I am not.  Neither do I think they are running in that direction.  I'm just saying... the times, they are a-changin'.  It's clear!
I am so thankful that Noelle is quite upfront and honest with me about how she is feeling about most things.  She has had some crushes.  About 2 years ago I was really concerned because it seemed as though she was becoming very interested in boys.  Thankfully that has cooled & she seems to really want what God wants for her.  There just happen to be some very nice boys from very nice homes around, that is all.  (No, it is not  lost on me that I happened to like boys.  A lot.)  
One of the reasons I am quite glad that she is not in school is because, since we do have one in school, I see how MAJORLY boy-girl stuff plays into their lives, (not D's.)  Yikers!!  Not being around that boy-craziness on a regular basis really puts her in another sort-of level of living, possibly even seeming or being immature and innocent.  
However, the times they are a-changin'.  I'm more than aware of who would be on the short list.  Oh boy.
So moms & dads, please be raising your sons so that will respect my daughters.  As it is, they are going to have to interview with us if they want to date them anyway!  And we WILL be asking the hard questions & stating our expectations and God's boundaries for spending time with our girls.
I've long suggested to my kiddos that hanging out with groups of friends, when they are older, is a great idea.  Get to know a whole bunch of people in a non-exclusive, casual way.  Hey, they can come over here for campfires & games & lotsa food.  We're looking into some options for youth groups/ student ministry stuff for the girls.
Other moms & dads, we can do this!  God will help us.  We do not have to pattern this after the "norm."  

Even so, oh man, it is so clear... the times, they are a-changin'.....

Gods & Generals - A Homeschooling Post

We're currently watching this movie, "Gods and Generals", for history.  It is set in civil-war, pre-Gettysburg times.  Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain is a key player.  

Micah eats this stuff up and Kevin really likes it too.  

This fits in to our Maine Studies unit.  Both Noelle & Micah have read No Place For Little Boys  edited by Melissa MacCrae and Maureen Bradford, illustrated by David Priesing.  It is a war story, told through the letters of a Union soldier from Carmel, Maine.  (That's where we live!)

In addition, we visited Joshua Chamberlain's home in Brunswick, Maine, and really learned a lot there.

At any rate, yesterday Kevin joined us for awhile to watch some of this movie.  It caused him to look up some things about Joshua Chamberlain's grandfather who was court-martialed after the Battle of Hampden.  (This is the town where Kevin grew up.)  He recalled learning a little about this in school.  As he told us a bit yesterday, he said -

   "This took place right around the corner from the school.  Why didn't they just take us there to where it happened?  I would have learned so much more and it would have been so interesting."  

This was a great reminder to me that how we teach or-

as some would say - how we learn things is so important.