Helena is SIX!

Join me in disbelief that the tiny baby is six, won't you? I still haven't even written "Helena is FIVE!" and here we are an entire year later.

She wanted a real motorcycle for her birthday. Instead she got to choose an American Girl doll. I was surprised, actually, that she chose Caroline, because it is the doll that most closely resembles her. It took about an hour of playing for Caroline's smooth curls to tangle and go a little wild, which means she fits right in to our family hair scheme.

She is recovering from crying in that last picture because some silliness had ensued and Caroline's fancy gown had gotten frosting on it. (I overreacted a touch. But have you SEEN how much those ridiculous clothes COST? That deserves a post. I am not exactly the Target Audience for American Girl merchandizing.) She wanted the same cake Hudson had, though I did use baking soda instead of powder this time. She kept changing her mind about what she wanted on her cake (at some point she wanted Galadriel the Elf Queen in frosting.) so we finally just did sprinkles and she was pleased.

 

I really plan to do a birthday interview with her because I find her a bit of a mystery, honestly. She seems to like school just fine. She doesn't talk about it much unless I ask specific questions. She sits with her friend Jack at lunch every day. She got her stick moved (the discipline system our school uses) a couple of times early in the year, but seems to have figured out how to keep that from happening this semester.

She went to school with a very snaggly front tooth today. I hope she does not swallow it. She still says a few things not quite right. Liberry for library, firsty for thirsty, birfday for birthday..she can say them correctly, (usually when the other two correct her, and not very kindly) but it takes a little effort.

She is beginning to read, but only the simple readers assigned for school. She wants me to read everything else aloud. She is really good at listening. The husband listens to audio books with the kids on the long commute to school, and so far this year they've finished The Hobbit, the first two books of The Wingfeather Saga, My Side of the Mountain, and are now on Book 1 of The Once and Future King. At night before bed we are reading The Sign of the Beaver. She also still really loves picture books. A recent favorite is Mary and the Mouse, the Mouse and Mary (by Beverly Donofrio and Barbara McClintock).

She still likes me to hold her, and I can because she is bird-light (around 37 pounds, I think). She plays really well with Hudson, and rarely, but increasingly companionably, with Harper. She SMOTHERS Sasha with affection, and Sasha minds less that she used to.

 Notice the purplish hue around her eyes in these last two pictures? She and Harper found some old eyeshadow in my bathroom cabinet and asked if they could try it. I didn't manage to get a picture of their finished effort, but they had basically covered their entire faces with it. These purple remnants still remained after a thorough scrubbing.

I am thankful for you, little heart.

Hudson is eight!

A few months ago, Helena started calling Hudson "Buddy Bear." He claims to dislike it, but I think it secretly pleases him. It describes him well: friendly, cuddly, and occasionally growly.

He chose to go camping with Daddy to celebrate. The husband decided not to be deterred by the late January cold, rainy weather, and the two of them spent last weekend at Inks Lake near Austin. They hiked, explored some caves, climbed all over Enchanted Rock, and managed to sleep in a tent even though the temperature dipped below 30 degrees.

He got a new mountain bike, a tennis racquet, some Hobbit Legos, and a boxed set of Tolkien. Also, I accidentally put baking powder instead of baking soda into his chocolate cake. His request was "cupcakes that look like there are worms coming out of them!" Appropriately, the texture of the cupcakes was rather mud-like. The kids all said it was delicious anyway.

On the actual birthday, we had schoolwork to do, then we rode bikes to the park and had lunch. We are 90% certain (Harper is 100% certain) that we saw a bald eagle soaring high above. It was a gift. Just like my little eaglet, growing up and soaring.

Beauty in the mundane

I think that future me might be interested in the details of a Tuesday. Have you heard of Kara Tippetts? She is a mom of four who is dying of cancer with such dignity and grace. Reading her blog of her last days has been a needed reminder to appreciate the small things. How do we distill our days?

Monday was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day so the kids had a school holiday. To celebrate MLK, the husband took the kids to REI and Hudson got a new bike for his birthday, which is a week away. I am certain Dr. King would be honored.

So, our Tuesday. The husband left around 6:30, and the rest of us slept until 7:30. We had leftover Shipley's doughnuts for breakfast (not nearly as good as fresh Shipley's doughnuts, which the husband got yesterday morning, again to celebrate MLK) then the kids played with Hudson's matchbox cars on a racetrack (which I had not seen in months--where did they find it??) that involved duct tape and also lots of accusations that Harper was making up arbitrary rules that favored her cars. I had our "Story of the World" history cd playing in the background. It was about the Constitutional Convention, and also how George Washington just really wanted to go home to Virginia and tend his farm, but instead became our first president. (Getting all those states to ratify the Constitution was not unlike using duct tape to jimmy the racetrack. Hey! Virginia is making up arbitrary rules! Oh yeah, well maybe our rules are just better than yours, South Carolina!) It was a regular home day, assignment-wise, so at 9 a.m. I pried them away from the cars and we worked on math, Latin, Bible, poetry, composition, and reading. There was lots of wandering out into the backyard by Helena and Hudson to swing and play in the sandbox/whack the Christmas tree with a sword while I worked with Harper on her math. There has finally been lots of playing outside because the weather is glorious. After I undecorated our Christmas tree two weeks ago, we dragged it out to the backyard and the kids have been chopping it and using it as a fort wall. At around 12:45, everyone began to get hungry and I realized we had no bread. I told them if we could finish our schoolwork, we could go eat and maybe go to the library. So things got peppier and we finished up.

Around 1:15 we got in the car and drove to ChickFil-A. The kids have only been there maybe 5 times? since we started a gradual loosening of the general Rigid Healthy Eating Plan a year or so ago. We listened to Hudson's "Story of the World" on the way (Sparta, Athens, Alexander the Great). We each had a kids' meal and it cost $15. The kids always get fruit instead of waffle fries, entirely on their own. I had waffle fries. (Last time we had lunch at Whole Foods it was $32, mostly because Harper and I both got sushi.) We traded our Franklin books in for ice cream cones, then we decide to walk to the library, which is maybe four blocks away, where we planned to check out non-Franklin books (we don't mind Franklin. He is, after all a turtle, but we already have several in our home library.) We spent 45? minutes at the duck pond before we went in. Helena made a duck friend,

Hudson jumped on rocks and talked to some turtles and climbed a tree, Harper dissected an egg she found floating in the water (just a boiled one someone lost from their lunch and not, as I feared, a duckling) and I just generally basked in the sun because it has been absent for almost a month now.

We stayed in the library for a bit and checked out a stack of books, including a wonderful new release entitled The Right Word: Roget and His Thesaurus by Jen Bryant and Melissa Sweet. Peter Mark Roget was, among many other accomplishments, a medical doctor and a member of The Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. Isn't that a delightful name?

We left the library and stopped at HEB on the way home to buy bread. When the kids were getting back into the car, Helena somehow managed to whack Hudson in the head with a plastic pack of scented markers (why are these in the car?) and he responded HIGHLY inappropriately. I tried to negotiate a peace treaty, but he was determined not to forgive her. Someone was waiting for our parking space, so I had to forge a rapid treaty that I am certain will hold zero weight with Jesus.

We came home and Hudson drummed on a makeshift drum set he made of cardboard boxes (loud, also why not drum on the very expensive and neglected drum kit upstairs??) while Helena set up a pretend campfire in the backyard which she surrounded with dolls and stuffed animals. Harper disappeared upstairs to make a yarn pom pom duckling using a craft kit she got for Christmas. I made burritos for their dinner, and the husband got home. The kids got baths, the husband read a chapter from book 3 in the Wingfeather Saga (wonderful) and, after several complaints that Helena was shining a flashlight into OUR EYES MOMMY AND ALSO SHE WON'T STOP TALKING! things got quiet around 8 p.m.

Distilled. Wonderful.

The happy new

It has been a little rough here. Every single day for two and a half weeks now, at least one person in the family has had a fever and other symptoms of viral nuisance. I started it, then a few days later Harper was stricken, then Helena, then Hudson, and now the husband is down for the count. I think he slept 22 hours on Tuesday. Also the weather has been gray and cold and damp. We have watched many movies. ("Bambi" was my favorite. The kids had never seen it. We watched it on video using my parents' VCR! I was wistful at how sweet Bambi is compared to modern animation. No irony, no potty humor, no disrespect...)  We attempted a 1000 piece puzzle that was too hard and kept getting jostled on the coffee table (I hate puzzles. Always have. I can't help but think I would rather be reading.) We have played many, many rounds of UNO (which Helena calls UnA and the other two go nuts correcting her) and also Jenga and Mancala, which Harper got for Christmas. We still have two days left in our Advent book. We will get to you yet, Joseph and Bethlehem. We finally finished our Jesse Tree ornaments. That deserves an entire post.

On New Year's Eve, the poor sick husband was in bed around 5:15, and the kids looked at the calendar and realized it was December 31. Harper asked which night it was that we were supposed to stay up until midnight. I confessed it was this night. We ate a very subpar leftovery sort of dinner, then it was dark and the fireworks started booming, because the people in our neighborhood LOVE the fireworks more than any people group I have ever encountered. The kids and I decided to go take a walk and watch them. Helena and I were still wearing our pajamas from the previous night. She was also wearing a pair of pink sandals from 2 summers ago, and I was wearing my house slippers. I nestled the dog into my coat where she shivered miserably the entire time with the cold and also the apparent shelling we were receiving from the enemy. We ended up at our neighborhood park, and Harper declared we would stay until midnight so she could shout HAPPY NEW YEAR.  It was around 6:45 at this point, and 45 degrees, so I told her probably not.

I did not send out Christmas cards this year for the first time in five, maybe six? years. I really hope no one decides to stop sending me their cards because of this because I would be DEEPLY GRIEVED. It all started when we didn't take a family picture over Thanksgiving, which was generally my launch point. I also didn't make photo calendars this year for the grandparents. Being sick for most of December really cut into my general merriment and productivity.

Here they are before our Christmas Eve service. Both Helena and Hudson had fevers, which I did not realize until hours later.

Knuckle-headed

A telemarketer just called me a knucklehead. I giggled for 20 minutes after I got off the phone. A knucklehead! That young man probably does not have much of a future in sales, bless him. I simply asked him if he was trying to sell me something, and he did not care for that knuckle-headed question. When I told Hudson what the guy said, he said, "whoa HO, wait until Daddy hears about this!" Then all the kids sweetly assured me that I am in no way a knucklehead. Whew.

Yesterday I had lunch duty at the kids' school. An entire table of Pre-kindergarteners asked me, one by one, "Do you know my mom?" Then they would tell me their mom's name, and they all sounded something like "Lawlan Wemelnish."  I lied to every one of them and told them that yes, I thought I did know their mom, and that she is very nice. They seemed really relieved and also excited. Note to self: meet more moms with Pre-K students so I don't have to lie next time.

Sunday when we were leaving church, Harper and I saw EIGHT roseate spoonbills sitting on the shore of Oyster Creek. Of course we pulled over.  We got within about 15 feet of them, then they made annoyed noises to each other and flew to the other side. Maybe they could tell that I did not know their mother.

The highlight of yesterday was that I got to hold my new friend Mr. Th for the first time. He is four days old and I like him a bushel and also a peck. I actually do know HIS mother.

The Tragic Ruination of the Orange Bishop

Hudson has been working on a science project for weeks that involves drawing and painting lots of mammals and birds and reptiles. Yesterday afternoon he had been laboring over a ruby- throated hummingbird, and was just finishing up an orange bishop when Harper strolled over and noted that the photograph of the orange bishop he was using was so charming, she thought she might paint it herself. I suggested she might want to work at a different table (because experience has taught us that two left-handed kids trying to use watercolors in close proximity to one another is sometimes awkward) but both she and Hudson thought they could make space next to Hudson. You can see where this is going? Hudson had just filled his brush with black paint and Harper reached over to get the water. His elbow was jostled, the brush full of black paint went slashing across the orange bishop, and CHAOS ENSUED. There were ear-piercing histrionics from Hudson, then Harper joined him, feeling equal parts sorry, defensive, and annoyed that he was so upset even though IT WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT. It took around 15 minutes to diffuse the situation. Helena ran upstairs to escape the tension. She came back down when things settled and reminded all of us, rather smugly, that she was "the only kid not crying!" Helpful. We had, the night before, read The Sorely Trying Day by Russell and Lillian Hoban. If you've read it (and you should!) you will note some similarities to our event. Though, thankfully, in our version the blame could not be traced back to any animals living in our house. Anyway, the good news is, after the ruby-throated hummingbird was salvaged, the orange bishop deemed beyond fixing and wadded up rather violently and put into the recycling by Hudson, the offended party and the offending party were back to normal. Harper was offering to give Hudson horse back rides on her back if, "he would promise to ride side-saddle like a proper lady."

In other, much happier, bird news, we spent the day after Thanksgiving doing a little birding near the Grandparents' and Harper and I saw a belted kingfisher! He flew away before we could get a picture, but it was quite a thrill.  I did manage to get a few shots of brown pelicans engaging in their unique style of dive bomb fishing.

This was a pretty fantastic moment--my parents strolling behind me, my boys and girls scampering in front of me, the water sparkling, the sea grass waving. Glorious.

Harper begins.

It was a big week for dear Harper. She had a science presentation at school on Wednesday. She learned all about famed ornithologist Florence Augustus Merriam Bailey, and did a first person presentation to her class. She painted some of Mrs. Bailey's favorite birds. and told her class all about her crusade to get women to stop wearing bird feathers on their enormous hats, which was the epitome of high fashion in the late 1800's. I loved Bailey's "velvet fist" approach--instead of scolding her classmates at Smith that their fashion choices were encouraging the slaughter of millions of birds, she took them on nature hikes to show them birds in their natural habitats. It worked! They stopped wearing feathers, formed an Audubon Society, and spent their weekends birding in the forests of Massachusetts. Here, Florence and Roger Tory Peterson were discussing owls. I think they were a little awed that Lucy Audubon was right behind them.

On Saturday, she had her first Suzuki ribbon festival. She played her two songs ("Chant Arabe" and "Claire de la Lune") and got a medal. It was a special treat to have the Grandparents Pate here.

Then yesterday, she stood in front of our sweet church, proclaimed that she believes the life and death and resurrection of Jesus is for HER, was baptized, and partook of the Table. When our pastor and one of the elders interviewed her last week, our pastor told her,"Harper, you are why I came to Sugar Land! I am so thankful for God's work in you." Then after he baptized her yesterday, our entire church held their hands aloft and sang this blessing over her:

The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make his face shine upon you
And give you peace, and give you peace,
And give you peace forever.

The Lord be gracious to you,
The Lord turns his face toward you
And give you peace, and give you peace,
And give you peace forever.

Yes, I love our church. Yes, I was weeping throughout this. I wanted so much to look out at all of their faces, but I knew I couldn't manage to and still keep to my feet. So I looked down at Harper's radiant little face and was full, full of thanks.