The Girl's Got A Plan

Li'l Bit just asked me if she's ever going to get married, or if she'll stay single all her life.  She has voiced desires in the past to stay single.  Resisting the urge to keep pushing her in that direction until she's finished grad school, I said, "Well, that depends on two things: what the Lord has planned for you, and what you really want in your heart."
What followed was true, Li'l Bit monologue:
"Yeah, I'll definitely get married.  There are just so many handsome men around me...."
--Note the "men" in her life are between the ages of 7 and 10.--
"I can't stay single with all these handsome men around.  I'll pick the strongest and most handsome."
Thoughtful pause, rubbing the top of her hand.
"I wonder if I'll marry one with light skin or dark skin."
Giggling at her own question.
"I'm colorblind when it comes to skin.  No, I can tell the color.  I just don't care.  As long as he's strong and handsome. I'll marry the most strong and handsome."

I didn't bother going into character and integrity.  She's got B.daddy in her life.  I don't think we'll ever have to tell her what sort of man to look for.  She'll just know.

Almost There

We are getting closer and closer to completing the living room!  Last weekend B.daddy did the very last of the Man Work, and I bought the perfect red and the perfect white on Monday.  The kids and I were zonked after spending the day at co-op an hour north of home.  Going to Lowe's with three tired kids-and a poor version of myself-is NEVER on my list of things to do.  But I. Could. Not. Wait!!

The last three days have been nothing but lessons and painting.  My house is an absolute wreck and our clean laundry--I did manage to wash it--is getting good and wrinkly in huge IKEA bags in the dining room.  But what's new about that, right?

We chose to paint the trim and chair rail down with the red.  It is the most historically accurate way to paint an interior from the early 19th century.  I knew I was taking a chance on how I would really feel about the look.  I don't want our house to be too niche-y.  It turns out I love it!  Following historical guidelines just makes this house sing!  

Being consistent with this project's pattern, we're adding just one more thing.  We're going to paint the floor.  Again, painting the floor is historically accurate.  Rugs were an absolute luxury for the most elite.  So the not-so-elite colonials used paint to protect their wood and give the decorative effect of a rug, and you can see the evidence of that on our floors.  But you can also see the evidence of a careless paint job that obviously took place right before they covered the beautiful wide, soft white pine boards with carpet.  May God have mercy on their souls.

We intended to leave the floors alone until we can get them all refinished.  But as the rest of the living room started looking so wonderful, I knew we couldn't leave the floor as is.  B.daddy has worked SO hard in there, and you can tell.  Everything looks perfect!  The floors left alone would ruin the whole effect of the rest of the room.  

I pitched the idea of painting the floor, assuming B.daddy would scoff.  See, I offered that we'd do no more than give it a good mopping before painting. B.daddy does not do things half-way.  I assumed he wouldn't want to paint until we could completely sand and clean the surface--something we cannot do right now.  However, he loves the idea and he loves the color I want to use.  So we're going for it!

This is the color we're going for.  It's called Sea Mist Green.  It's such a soft green it's almost gray.  It's B.daddy's favorite antique colonial color, and I think it will look absolutely amazing against our red and white.

Surprisingly the Historical Society of New England recommends that owners of historical homes NOT sand before painting a floor.  Leaving the original paint patterns to show through the new coat is the way it's always been done, so it's a more accurate way to bring out the historical bones of a home.

So instead of finishing our painting tomorrow and moving back in, we're adding another week on the project.  But it will be so worth it!  Can't wait to post the after photos!

A Good Day

Today was a really good day.  

Finally!  

I need to document this day, so I won't forget that we do actually get it right from time to time.

I've been reading my book on anger and dedicating a lot of prayer and mental energy to ridding myself of something I really don't want to have.  Like.  Really.  I don't want to be angry.  I'm done.

It's not so much that I want to be a wonderful wife and mother; not so much that I want to be a peaceful presence.  I'm just sick and tired of losing my self-control to whims of anger. I've given in and struggled with it for way too long.  I'm over it.

And so, I am happy to report that we are nearing the end of our fourth week of school (only 32 more!) in the Crazy House, and things have been far from crazy.  There have been hard moments, and I've not been perfectly patient and compassionate by any stretch of the imagination! But it's been better than it's ever been.  And that, my friends, is a good thing.

This morning was shockingly peaceful.  Gizmo and Ladybug were up with the birds, but Li'l Bit, who has the heaviest school-load, slept until 8:45. (She was reading until 11pm...again.)  In the back of my mind, I knew I wanted to get us to the beach midday.  Parking is free, dogs are allowed, and it's not too cold yet.  But we couldn't go unless Gizmo and Li'l Bit both finished ALL of their demanding work.  I.e. reading, handwriting, narration & composition writing, grammar, and math.  (Oh, math!)  Only then could we pack up our history, art, bird book, and memory work to enjoy God's creation whilst learning about it.  So I should have been stressed and rushed and typically crabby.  Be it either fluke or mercy, I was not.  And by 12:45, we were heading to the beach with strawberries, broccoli , and PB&J's.  (I would have killed for some fancy cheese and rosemary crackers!)

The kids had a blast!  How perfect could one day be?!  Sunny and clear with a cool, boisterous breeze that kicked up the waves of the cove so much I had to read our history and science with vigor.  The kids were in heaven digging moats in the sand and building bridges with driftwood.  I threw in our sketchpad and colors so each kid could have some quiet, creating time.  And since it's off-season, Bruiser finally got to tag along for a beach trip!  How happy he was digging in that cool, wet sand!  We left the beach in a jovial mood which must have leant itself to the following topic.

Do not ask me how this started, but Li'l Bit made some nonchalant remark about preferring her belly be cut open to extract future offspring.  I happen to feel pretty strongly about the body's ability to bring forth said offspring on it's own--when given the chance, barring dangerous medical conditions--and somehow we landed on the topic of The Three Holes.  I couldn't believe she didn't know where a vagina was located!

I was that annoying young mother who refused to use pet names for "private parts."  I distinctly remember changing Li'l Bit's diapers and pointing out to her--everyday--all of her "private" body parts by scientific name.  Somewhere along the line I prioritized more important things.  And here I am with an 8-year old who can't find her baby hole?

Holy crap!

So Li'l Bit's nighttime talk-time included the following picture:

I explained all the basic parts and what they're good for.  You know.  Pee, poop, and babies.  She soaked it all in, and Ladybug commented that our bladder looks like a leaf. :)  That girl will keep me in stitches till the day I die.

So there you have it.

A "good day" in this homeschooling home.  We begin with desperate prayers and sleeping in from too much reading, and we end with the birds and the bees.