... is the one without shoes on. So like her to beat to her own drum. All the time!
Thursday, June 10, 2021
Wednesday, June 09, 2021
Tuesday, June 08, 2021
We are going to be doing a science experiment around these parts. First, we must formulate a hypothesis. If a goose hatches a duck egg and thinks that the little baby is her gosling, will the bird grow up to be more duck-like because of its nature ... or will it grow up to be more goose-like because of its nurture.
It reminds me of a favorite book in our house: A Blessing from Above which details the story of a kangaroo that adopts a little blue bird.
As an adoptive-family, I am constantly amazed by the lessons I witness and could give on nature vs. nature.
Monday, June 07, 2021
Sidge snagged these pictures of me attempting to beat my eldest in Chess.
Truth: he beats me nearly every time.
Truth: if I stand a chance, I have to concentrate very hard.
Truth: While I can sometimes get all the way down to a "win", I stink at preventing a draw!
Truth: Who invented this game? I mean, it has to be the best game of all time? Would anyone argue that?
It's summertime here. School is done for the next two months. So I am trying to spend my days playing games with the kids, getting some long-overdue organizing around the house done, and of course, the farm calls our name even louder in the heat of the summer.
I have begun to recognize that May may be the hardest month for me on the farm. I think it's because the farm has started to pick up for the June/July push, but I'm still trying to educate my children. We haven't completely finished schoolwork, and yet, the farm is requiring my presence more and more.
June, on the other hand, is actually an easier month than May because the pull to both things has ceased a bit. The kids don't need me for their education. The farm needs me more.
Saturday, June 05, 2021
Hard labor may be some of the best therapy there is.
I suppose, in my growing up years, that therapy was my athletics. I can clearly remember struggling with my emotions during my senior year of high school. I asked my English teacher, Mrs. Mackey, to excuse me, and I think, sensing I was struggling, she let me go to my athletic director father's office. (She was a gem by the way)
My wise Dad sent me out for a jog.
I don't shoot baskets anymore or kill a volleyball to release anxiety and depression. But I can unload the back of a Ford with two tons of chicken feed and feel better.
Here's what I'm learning ... more and more as I spend extensive time in this rural bit of America ...
We are designed to move. We are designed to work. Both sexes. (Although I really think, boys especially, need work and girls have the ability to find outlets through other things.) I think athletics helps replace that fact, but I truly believe the absence of movement is affecting our children.
Our boys are turning into me, and they crave responsibility and jobs and purpose. Today, Sidge successfully pulled John's tractor out of a ravine with the side-by-side. What a moment for him!
Truth: our family is dealing with some anxiety/depression right now. One of my sons is battling. I'm battling. A daughter is struggling with some sleep issues related to anxiety. It's awful to feel this beast as a grown-up. But to watch your child face that same beast and be helpless to fix it, is gut-wrenching.
But as son and I unloaded these bags of feed, you could tell: this movement, the strength required, sweat, heat ... it's good for the soul. It means something. It's ... therapy.
And while I find it very hard to put her into words, her camp counselor, after just five days with her, was able to put her into these three words above -- which truly highlight her nearly perfectly.