blog homeschool day in the life

One month since

I last posted 30 September and now it’s 30 October.

I am trying to figure out how to really enjoy blogging and make it truly work for me, without unnecessary pressure–self-induced, of course. I need to figure out what my goals are.I need to figure out what I really want.  Blogs I love to read always have beautiful pictures accompanying each post and I haven’t gotten pictures off the cameras for over a month. I’ve also not taken very many pictures either.

Facebook is a super easy way to keep many of my loved ones up to date on our lives, but it also can be super time consuming and hard to make boundaries with it. I want to post there, but then I’m drawn to check to see if people have “liked” or commented, and I want to see what my friends are up to too and then I have a few groups I’ve been heavily involved in and somehow feel the pull to check those too, and before I know it, I’ve wasted many precious minutes/hours on other people’s lives/articles I didn’t know I wanted to read/answering questions I really didn’t have time for when all I got on line for was to find a cracker recipe and “check my  news feed really quickly”. Famous last words.

I went to the Mother Earth News Fair in Topeka, KS this past weekend and the girls and my dad and I had an AMAZING time. We’re thinking about milk goats and bees. We’re contemplating making more things from scratch. We’re looking at how we can be living even more sustainably. (And then I come home to all the Christmas catalogs in my mailbox!)

I got to stay with my sister and her beautiful family and have a too short of visit with one of my besties. The kids did wonderfully traveling and it was a glorious trip.

I took a little internet break while I was gone, and now it’s been a full week. I miss it and don’t miss it. I miss knowing what my friends are up to on a regular basis, but I don’t miss all the mental and emotional clutter it brings with it.

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Today Aviana made bread for the first time all by herself. It’s not wanting to rise, so I’m not sure if she made an error, or if our house is just too cold.

Today (and yesterday) we had chicken soup with rice for lunch.

We’ve put all the bikes and riding toys and wagons in the barn for the winter. It’s staggering how tidy the yard suddenly became! Kevin is winterizing all the equipment as we are supposed to get a hard freeze tonight. He’s done combining the soy beans and has about 100 acres of corn to do. He’s rained out today. Hopefully this afternoon we’ll get to planting my bulbs and mums. I am totally a fair weather gardener.

Cadrian is having a hard time with his reading lessons every time, but then every time he makes a break through and shows me he really is ready for it. It’s frustrating and challenging to know what’s truly best for him.

Brielle played well with Elivette this morning so I could read to the boys. They’ve been into these Star Wars books we got from the library but I am done reading that drivel. It’s time to introduce them to Little House or Narnia or something. Cadrian does well listening to read alouds but Denton is still a classic interrupter.

I have plans to make some pumpkin butter this afternoon too, so I’d better be starting.

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HolstFamily2014_045

My favorite

 Ten is a first born. Ten loves a schedule, solitude and creativity. Ten writes novels and stories and plays and journals and songs. Ten fills notebooks and loses them. Ten loves to play piano and sing. Ten practices regularly without being reminded. Ten needs lots of reminders when she’s on kitchen zone. Ten loves to bake and then eat. Ten begrudgingly cleans up after so she’ll be allowed to bake again. Ten loves to read and would read all day if she could. Ten loves to read with many voices and drama and accents when she reads to her littles. Ten patiently does preschool and games with them. Ten puts up with a lot of grief from youngers who pester. Ten is usually quite kind and thoughtful. Ten is helpful and can do so many things. Ten is brave and bold and unafraid of public speaking, but is reluctant to go up and introduce herself. Ten very much wants a bosom friend. Ten prefers the company of one to a crowd. Ten has great ideas. Ten folds her long legs and long arms up as small as she is able and lays her head on my shoulder and snuggles. Ten questions. Ten is quick witted. Ten is often a child but is often a young lady. Ten sprawls haphazardly and holds herself erect. Ten bursts into torrents of tears without warning or knowing exactly why. Ten is long limbed and long necked and blonde haired. Ten has sprinkles of freckles and a sometimes hesitant smile. Ten tries so hard to do her best. Ten is a perfectionist and ten is perfect and ten is my favorite.

 Eight is a commander. Eight is a challenger. Eight is passionate and wild and loud. Eight is persistent and independent. Eight follows through exactingly when she sees how she benefits. When she doesn’t, garnering cooperation is an arduous ordeal. Eight loves to read and loves to climb and loves to make houses out of anything, jump on the hay bales, swing from the rope and play games. Eight is a leader. Eight is friendly and draws people to her. Knowing what will happen is important to Eight. Reality aligning with expectations matters to Eight. Eight can express her disappointment better now. Eight swoops up small children. Eight finds delight. Eight is creative. Eight loves stick fighting in Kuk Sool Won and is tenacious. Eight is gentle and rough. Eight is thoughtful and thoughtless and thought provoking. Eight is coming into her own. Eight needs reassurance. Eight snuggles fiercely and pulls away from being over parented. Eight likes her own ideas best. Eight likes instant gratification and works several months to complete a model sailing ship which she gives away to her friend the day she finishes it. Eight is generous and impulsive. Eight is energetic and calm. Eight wonders. Eight questions. Eight pushes. Eight encourages. Eight is pink cheeks and freckles and gap toothed grins and scabs and giggles. Eight is perfect. Eight is my favorite.

 Six is loud covered in dirt. Six loves rockets and volcanoes and airplanes and dinosaurs. Six does things big. Six moves fast. Six does all the puzzles all at once until in the middle of kitchen. Six fights with swords of sticks, of wood, of Styrofoam, of pegs. Six is a pirate, a knight, an army guy. Six is action. Six is the exact middle. Six is the little brother. Six is the “big bruvver”. Six taught himself to write and can draw pictures, especially of monsters. Six is sensitive and self-critical. Six is unafraid to climb to the top of the windmill but doesn’t like to talk with grown ups he doesn’t know. Six will tantrum when tired or misunderstood, but usually has it under control. Six kisses fiercely and hugs thoroughly. Six is learning how to do the work well. Sitting is a chair is just not that fun for Six. Six will follow and also leads. Six loves people and to be alone. Six is tidy and trails a swath of mess.  Six eats as much as a grown man. Six is energetic and tiring. Six is growing into his sense of humor. Six generally follows the rules and has a strong sense of justice. Six is helpful. Six is learning to read. Six spoils his baby sister. Six helps his mama. Six follows directions. Six is tender. Six needs his story, his song and his prayers before bed. Six can wash his own feet but not the muddy tub. Six tries. Six is perfect. Six is my favorite.

 Four is fast and funny and friendly and furious. Four makes mad faces and hits and kicks mostly the air when he’s frustrated. Four outgrew naps, but sometime he needs one. Four hides when he’s mad or doesn’t want his hair washed. Four is snuggly. Four is hungry. Four is thoughtful and sweet and gentle. Four needs to be told to not hit the cat with the broom. Four gets a bite of ice cream when he complies with a request the first time. Fours is giggles with gusto. Four apologizes for screaming. Four loves rough housing. Four’s favorite is “sody pop and ‘tato tips”. Four loves Jeeps and fish and lions and flipping upside down. Four remembers. Four needs reassurance. Four notices. Four asks questions. All day long. “Dada, what would happen if the ‘wuk tuwrned into a boat and ran wan into a volcano?” Four sits in on Six’s reading lessons and answers the questions. Four is tender with his sister. Four catches Two and then falls down. Four does preschool. Four learns new things every day. Four is independent and needs to hold hands. Four wants to do it himself and needs reminders. Four loves to be read to and loves to race and loves to be silly. Four loves to make me laugh. Four is earnest and genuine. Four is sticky and sweaty and pudgy and solid. Four is bronzed and blonde and baby growing into boy. Four is quick and curious and contrary and certain. Four is dimples and dirt and dynamite. Four is perfect. Four is my favorite.

 
Two is adorable. Two is hilarious. Two is big eyes and curls and serious mouth. Two is grins and giggles. Two is mischievous. Two talks. Two is “ung-ee”. Two prefers bread and bananas to broccoli. Two nurses when she wakes up. Two runs herself to the potty when her bummie is bare. When she has on bundies, she forgets. Every time. Two sleeps alone in a queen sized bed. Two likes to be where the action is. Two loves to play with water, to play with sand and to carry purses and dollies. Two kisses and hugs ferociously. Two is a fat little belly and dimpled knuckles and legs slimming. Two is thought filled and watchful. Two teases and jokes. Two loves attention and to make me laugh. Two opens, two gets out, two dumps, two strews. Two is curious and quick. Two is intuitive. Two eschews her high chair and sits at the table with the rest of us. Two is clever. Two helps put away the dishes and takes her plate to the dishwasher. Two climbs everything. Two is a problem solver. Two gets her shoes and wants to go. Two doesn’t like to be left behind. Two wants to run with the bigglets but can’t yet keep pace. Two tries. Two loves books and to be in the wrap and for Mama to be a monster and to grab. Two loves the kitties squishingly and the puppy only when Mama is there. Two dashes, Two cackles, Two babbles. Two is tiny and pure and innocent. Two is perfection. Two is my favorite.
photos by the genius Sweekit Photography
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