(And All My) Work Be Praise

I love to read as much as the next person. Maybe more, even—after all, I was a literature major in college. (Not because I ever expected to DO anything with that degree—or my music degree, for that matter—but because I loved to read and write and it seemed worthwhile to pay gobs of tuition money to have the opportunity to do both. Or something.) The last decade, however, has not precisely been full of good books. I read a good bit of Christian romantic drivel while nursing Levi, and I have multiple Sandra Boynton board books memorized, and we’ve ventured into some classic literature read-alouds along the way. But reading for my own pleasure? A luxury at best. When I hopped on the bullet journal train at the end of 2018, I decided that this would be the year I started reading again, mostly so I could make a cute “books to read” page. I honestly didn’t expect to stick with it. At the time, I didn’t even know I was pregnant and would have time nursing a baby before 2019 was out! But...

For the first five:  Levi's birth story ,  Owen's birth story ,  Silas's birth story ,  Toby's birth story , Calvin's birth story This sixth birth story feels almost anticlimactic compared to the other five. My water didn't break during a thunderstorm (Levi and Calvin), she wasn't posterior (Owen), there were no paramedics or ambulances involved (Silas and Toby), my labor wasn't precipitous or with worries of a breech baby (Calvin). Nevertheless, every birth has a story, and this is Tessa's: Contractions began at 8:20am, one week after her due date. I had enough of them to call my midwife around 10am, which is about the same time they slowed down to every 10-15 minutes for the next FIVE HOURS. I've never been in labor for more than eight hours, so by the time that seventh hour hit with no progression, I was pretty discouraged. We shipped the boys off to my parents' house around 3pm and went for a walk, which helped a little with intensity...

I've had so many people ask me about our "national day" celebrations that I thought I'd pop back on my now-mostly-ignored blog to tell you about it. I honestly don't remember how it started; probably the idea was put in my head by advertising e-mails from various restaurants. Back in December 2018, we decided it'd be fun to celebrate as many of these national days as possible. Towards the end of every month, I pull up the next month's list and enter anything I think we could do into my planner. Then I use my planner to plan the month's meals! It takes some of the "I don't know what to cook" pressure off, and we've tried some new things besides. (The national day item is written at the top of each day in pink.) The master list I use is here:  https://nationaldaycalendar.com/calendar-at-a-glance/  As you can see, there are several options for most days! Here are the ones we've done so far: Spaghetti Whipped Cream Apri...

I have two recipes in my collection from one of my mom's long-time friends, Julie. The first is your standard corn casserole made with Jiffy mix, which ranks as one of Levi's top five favorite foods. The second is the marinade I'm about to copy down for you. Julie says it's good on any sort of meat, but I've only used it for chicken. Dump everything in a bag with some chicken thighs (my personal preference), let it sit for a while -- I've done four hours up to two days -- and throw it on the grill. De-lish. The recipe below makes enough for two bags of chicken at my family's current size, so you can make one ahead for next time or freeze the marinade on its own (or just make half the recipe). Marinade 1-1/2 cups olive oil (or oil of your choice) 3/4 cup soy sauce 1/2 cup red wine vinegar 1/3 cup lemon juice 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce 2 tablespoons dry mustard 1 tablespoon pepper 2-1/2 teaspoons salt 1/2 tablespoon parsley flakes 2 cloves crus...

We're trying a new approach to cleaning the house this year. Three weeks in, I have to say, I think I like it. It has some downsides, which I'll get to in a minute. The simple details: we do school Monday-Thursday, so Friday morning is "cleaning day." I wrote down every chore I could think of that 4- to 9-year-olds can do, each one on a popsicle stick, and popped them in a jar. After breakfast, they start picking jobs, and we keep going till it's done, about 30-40 minutes. (Many hands really do make light work!) Three boys and a knight with their popsicle sticks. While they attend to their chores, I hover in the kitchen, answering questions (which cloth do I use?) and cleaning things they can't reach. I also do the sweeping, because I'm never satisfied when any of them do it. Definitely Levi ought to be able to sweep efficiently by now, but . . . I'm allowed to keep a few things aside to assuage my perfectionism, right? Because I'm n...

I'm about five years into this homeschooling thing now, and I've only ever done it with a bunch of babies and toddlers underfoot. I have lived and breathed by routines: the breakfast routine, the morning nap routine, the lunch routine, the afternoon nap routine. I always knew approximately what needed to happen in each approximate time of day, but I never, ever, ever planned anything by the clock. You know what happens when you plan things by the clock for toddlers and babies? They poop. Or they fight. Or lunch takes twice as long (or half as long) as you planned. Or naps take twice as long (or half as long) as you expected. Routines are golden. Schedules make you crazy. (In my humble opinion.) So it was quite a surprise to me when I realized, back in the spring when I started planning for this fall's schooling, that I'm sort of out of that phase. Sure, I still have Calvin (who will be two in October), but he's it. Everyone else is . . . dare I say it . . . fairly...

If you've known me for any length of time, you've probably heard me (lovingly, semi-jokingly) refer to my children as "wimpy." If you picture my household of boys as the stereotypical group of climbing, rough-housing, dare-devil male monkeys, well . . . you're wrong. While Calvin is out to prove every word of this paragraph incorrect, my first four boys are, by and large, sitters: they love to draw, read, play board games and card games, build things out of LEGO and magnatiles, etc. With the exception of Levi's newfound interest in soccer last year, they are, for the most part, artists and intellectuals, and I've never felt the need to push them too hard in other areas. Until this summer, that is. We simply couldn't ignore their need to know how to swim any longer. (Actually, I personally don't care much, as I don't find swimming all that enjoyable. Give me a novel and a lounge chair in the shade, hands down, every time. But my husband and mo...