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The best age

Six months is the best age. Six months rolls over, scoots backwards, reaches and grabs indiscriminately.
Six months smiles and laughs and coos and angels sigh delightedly. Six months stares wide eyed, wonder. Six months eats books and mama milk. Six months can sit unassisted and when on her tummy, pop up on her arms like a prairie dog.
Six months loves the wrap. Loves her mama. Loves her dada. Adores her siblings, even when they try to sit on her.
Six months is entertaining. And my very favorite.
Two is the best age. Two wants to be just like his big brother and his dada. Two tags along. Two can be ornery and full of mischief. Two says “Hols me” when he wants held, “Wap me” when he wants in the wrap. Two often says, “I do it!” Two giggles gloriously.
Two loves to read, loves to build, loves to sit in the middle of the train table and make the tracks go all around him. Two likes to be in the middle of everything!
Two focuses! Two picks up his toys, takes his laundry to the basket and helps unload the dishwasher. Two goes through all the drawers and takes out all the things. Two can be into everything all at once. Two is my favorite!
 Four is the best age. Four needs ‘nuggles in the morning. Four can go outside and play all by himself. Four can button and draw now. Four loves oatmeal, macaroni and “gheez” and cream of broccoli soup. Four makes me laugh every “ghingle” day.

 Four is helpful. Four unloads the dishwasher and switches out the laundry. Four helps his brother when he can’t reach. Four is thoughtful and considerate. Four wants to be heard. Four repeats himself when he isn’t.

 Four is brave and can climb really high and jump really far and run really fast. Four consistently gets his shoes on the wrong feet and likes it that way. Four loves to roughhouse. Four is my absolute favorite.

Six is the best age. Six talks loudly, sings loudly, laughs exuberantly and lives large. Six likes to tell stories with much detail. Six wears holes in her knees and large grins. Six hugs enthusiastically and compassionately. Six is empathetic.
 Six knows a lot of stuff. Six doesn’t always think through her actions. Six practices self control and being a wonderful big sister and a sweet little sister and a gift to her parents. Six can follow a recipe and wash the dishes and put away the clothes. Six sometimes needs multiple prompts.

 Six wears purple on Mondays and loves to bring me coffee. Six enjoys ballet and sharing all the new things she’s learned and dessert. Six would rather read than be read to but still enjoys books on CD. Six is busy thinking of new ways to use yarn and Thinking Putty and rolling pins. Six says many, many, many words. 
Six snuggles. Six is totally my favorite.

Eight is the best age. Eight prefers to be quietly engaged. Eight likes order and a plan and not too many people all at once. Eight is thoughtful and thinking. Eight is creative. Eight writes plays and stories and lists and letters and lessons for her siblings.
 
Eight loves to be independently at work. Eight has all manner of ideas and plans. Eight is a dreamer and generally has wonderful follow through. Eight tries hard.

 Eight is sensitive and sweet. Eight hugs and doesn’t sit on my lap nearly enough anymore. Eight practices piano without being reminded and reads voraciously. Eight learns something new every day. Eight has a beautiful heart. Eight is my favorite!

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blog homeschool day in the life

Ode to the Horse

I was looking for a recipe for my mom’s Never Fail Pie Crust, and accidentally pulled out the wrong recipe book. I have inherited all my grandma and my great-grandmother’s recipes. In the front of that book, in my great-grandmother’s script written neatly with a fountain pen, I found the following poem.

I quickly searched to see if someone else had written it, and nothing turned up.

I present to you:
Ode to the Horse,
by Kate Correll Moon Bickel

Ah horse, you are a wondrous thing,
No horn to honk, no bell to ring
No license buying every year with plates to screw on front and rear.
No spark to miss, No clutch to slip.
You start yourself, no gears to strip.
No gas bills climbing every day to steal the joy of life away.
Your inner tubes are all O.K.
and thank goodness they stay that way,
Your spark plugs never miss or fuss.
Your motor never makes us cuss.
Your frame is good for many a mile,
Your body never changes style.
Your wants are few and easy met.
You’ve got a lot on the auto yet.

(I never did find the pie crust recipe)

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