{this moment} big helpers

{this moment} A Friday ritual. A photo (or two?) - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment to pause, savor and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Simple gifts

It's time for the biannual Mom's Brag-a-thon! Music recitals come only twice a year, so you'll have to bear with me. (And feel free to share your braggable moments with me, too!)

These two boys have worked SO hard the last two months. Their music teacher wanted them to learn a piece they could play together for the recital. Eldest has only studied cello for nine months; Middlest has studied violin six months longer.

We found a version of the classic Amish tune "Simple Gifts" which would let them take turns with the melody and harmony. It is not an easy piece, but learning to play their very different parts simultaneously, and stay in tune, and stay in tempo, and adjust to each other's mistakes, was extra challenging.

And then they had to put up with their overanxious, perfectionistic mother, who knows just enough about music to be opinionated and pushy about it, when she's trying to be helpful. (Somehow they forgave me, and insisted I sit through all their practices anyway.)

They practiced faithfully, even when they were grouchy with each other, and they played it well at their lesson on Friday. But you never know how nerves will be on the big day.

They wanted their friends to be there, so I sent some last-minute invitations, and warned their teacher we were bringing a crowd! And then I sat in the front row and tried not to let it show how nervous I was for them.

And. My boys. Did. Beautifully. When it was over, I could breathe again. The smiles of pride as they stepped offstage were worth every tear shed up to that point.

Afterwards, we went out to our favorite local, gourmet diner to celebrate with burgers and ice cream. They earned it!

{this moment} STRIKE!!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama.

Middlest turns 8

Can it really be eight years since that chubby-faced baby landed in my arms for the first time? My first home-birthed babe, the nursling content to be in a sling wherever his mama went, who put up with toddler head-bonk kisses from his "big" brother, slept quietly tucked beside me every night, whose one desire from life was to nurse and be cuddled?

Yes, it really can. Yesterday, we celebrated his birthday, starting with presents at home before I'd even had my tea. This was the year of the pocket knife. Scott gave Eldest one when he turned eight, and Middlest waited another 18 months for his. First use: opening the box of a new Bionicle set.

The weatherman had threatened 50-mph winds and rain all afternoon, but we prayed for a birthday blessing and received sunshine instead.  The weather was beautiful just long enough to spend a few hours at the park, to eat bbq hot dogs and chocolate cupcakes, play tag, and bob for apples -- the only nod to his autumn, nearly-Halloween birthdate.

No orange and black, please. He didn't want a fancy theme or costume party (although I'm open to that next year when the big day's on Saturday). It's not easy competing with Halloween party weekend, but we try to keep the focus just on our boy -- the middlest one.

Meet my boys

I've really been enjoying the Not Back to School blog hop at Heart of the Matter -- it's so fun to see how unique our homeschooling families are! I'm excited to welcome those of you who have found my blog in the last few weeks! I'd love for you to meet the three boys I am blessed to call my sons...

Eldest, age 9, fourth grade:

Our energetic, talkative firstborn, the scientist, who loves learning new things as much as he loves telling you about it. He's our champion chess player, Lego fanatic and kung fu green belt. He loves all of God's creatures, even the ones the rest of us would prefer never think about. He'll have his own classroom or Nat Geo TV show someday. But this year he's looking forward to taking cello lessons, learning more math, and studying the Ancient Romans.

Middlest, age 7, third grade:

Our secondborn is perfectly positioned between his brothers to be the team player that he is. Always available for a hug or a game of tag, he is happiest when surrounded by people who like to move as much as he does. He loves language, and is excited to study Latin and German this year. Some day he'll be a missionary, a mediator or an electric violin-wielding rock star.

Littlest, age 4:

 

Our youngest boy is the quiet one with the iron will. He'll either charm your socks off or bite your head off -- but he'll be sure to kiss it afterward! He loves dinosaurs, playing with his brothers, impressing us with his with Lego Bionicle creations, and being read to. At this point, his future is limitless!

Sending my boys off

Oh, they are getting too big, too fast!

Tonight we sent off our older two boys on their first camping trip alone with my dad, their Papa. They've been looking forward to this for weeks, and I had to promise our littlest boy lots of ice cream to keep him from stealing away in the back of the truck.

After lots and lots of goodbye hugs, the boys climbed in and started to buckle up, and they both got funny looks on their faces -- "Mom, I miss you already!" my firstborn said. Then his brother climbed back out for another hug. "I'm going to miss your mole," he said to my neck.

Funny boy, I'm going to miss you both terribly.

Mrs. Weasley plans for college

Savings, schmavings, I've figured out how we're going to pay for college -- Quidditch scholarships!

Already, 226 colleges have joined the Intercollegiate Quidditch League. My alma mater, as well as teams from Harvard, Princeton and MIT competed in the 2009 World Cup, which Greg Gumble reported on CBS Sports.

I figure, in 10 years, the Rowling Fund for Literate Athletes should be well established. The (Muggle) Quidditch World Cup will be a well-respected international collegiate sporting event.

And my kids will have plenty of experience in the sport, because I'm going to start a local homeschool league! (Well, what else can I do? They're begging to play!)

But first, somebody's asking for a broom for Christmas... or maybe I should get him a helmet first.

Look who's 7!

We celebrated my middle son's seventh birthday yesterday...


He wanted to spend his birthday afternoon at the park with a few friends and my homemade (read: ugly!) vegan chocolate cake. Nothing fancy. Nothing Halloween-ish. (Although we did bob for apples, 'cause that's just good fall fun.)


Having a birthday two days before a popular holiday has its challenges. October is so full of activities, and my energy wanes toward the end of it, so I always feel like I haven't made a big enough deal about the birthday.

But he thought it was just right. Simple, sweet, and fun.

That's my boy. Getting so grown up.

One lap, shared.

My 4yo stole a rare moment on my empty lap this evening. He has gotten so tall and lanky he barely resembles the chubby baby that used to ride around in a sling all day long. Now his little brother is the one most often on my hip, but he never seems to resent it. Grouper is more likely to smother Baby Fish with too tight a hug than do anything that expresses jealousy.

No, tonight it was the baby's turn to be jealous.

It took me a minute to realize what he was upset about. UberDad recognized it first. "He doesn't want Grouper sitting on your lap!" my husband laughed, watching the baby scoot over to the sofa from his playmat, dismay in his voice and on his face.

I smiled at him as he came closer, but hugged my middle son tighter, not ready to give up our cuddle. "Your brother is my baby, too!" I said. "But you can come up and join us!"

I pulled him up on the couch, and set him on his brother's lap. We were nestled one on top of another like his stackable wooden boxes, though I wasn't sure that it would be enough. It was -- he was happy to be a part of the cuddle for a moment. Then he slid off to crawl along the sofa and giddily bounce against the cushions.

How lucky am I? He could just as easily have reached out to grab Grouper's face like he does the cat's tail, in an attempt to wrestle his place back. But he didn't.

At some point every mother worries about jealousy between her children. "If I have another baby, will my first child forgive me?" "How will I give them both enough attention and love?" And sometimes we do exactly what we hope we wouldn't -- we choose one over the other, expecting the older children to understand when we put the baby's needs first -- all day long. Or putting the baby off too long because the older child needed our attention. And sometimes it's just a matter of not having enough hands to do everything we're needed for at once.

Maybe it's luck. An undeserved blessing. Maybe I'm figuring some things out and not making those mistakes as often. In any case, I am grateful for having sons who know the value of a brother, and truly love each other.