We are spending the week in Florida, at my in-laws’ beach house.  Such a treat.  We come here two or three times a year, and enjoy not only our time away from home, but sun and family and good food.  We stay up late and watch tv, we rent movies.  We talk about life and family and we laugh.

I get to make more jokes with Pat because we are relaxed.  And we slow down and enjoy being together.  Not just being or doing marriage, but enjoying marriage.  He makes me laugh all the time, but when I have less to do I can make him laugh more too.  And somehow, it’s like a competition for who is funnier and I can invest in having the upper-hand.  I am definitely funnier.  At least, to one of us I am.

Vacations are good.  Time off or time away in a different environment is especially good for mothers.  Travelling with small children is never the same as travelling without, but when they are near I DO NOT feel as though various pieces of me are missing.  I do not look around and say to Pat: “Josh would love this.  Emma would love that”.  We are together for better or for worse on this trip, but I generally think it’s better.

 We have been out on the beach much of the day.  Spring is the perfect combination of breeze and warmth,  before the fierce heat and humidity of summer in Florida arrives.  My Canadian sensibilities are still unsure as to what I think about Floridian summer.

Not much else to say this week.  I am desiring to power down and not be online.  Amazing how much quieter I feel inside just breaking from incessant information.  Isn’t that what internet allows for?  Constant information at the speed of light.  I think it tires me at times. 

I would encourage powering down for several days at a time.  It really allows focus on people and is….very calming.

We stayed this week with the Wood family- owners of Wood Fruitticher, a Birmingham-based company.

When we crossed paths with the family, there was plenty of fun conversation and open dialogue.  As we left, Mrs. Wood had a hug and some kind remarks for us.  And we felt the same about her.

I am fascinated by mothers older than myself.  I literally feel as though I would like to walk around distributing questionnaires, asking “How did you do it?”  “What was discipline like in your home?”  “What did your marriage look like in these early-child years?”  “What did you spank for?”  “How do you truly encourage your children to follow after God?”

I asked the Wood’s some of these questions.  I peppered them with long-stored-up inquiries on life and family, and was so built up by their answers.

They are much like my parents.  Right down to the 5 kids and many, many grand-children.  What looks like the nth degree of chaos and noise to many, is sweet music to the person from a large family.  The multiplied people is comforting.

There is strength in numbers, and kids from big families know this personally.

When I was not pursuing the Great Inquisition, I could be found reading here.

Or watching a movie with Corrin here.

Or working out here.

Looking out this window.

And admiring this pleasant view.

Or pouring cereal to eat in our very own ground-floor kitchen.

Or perhaps even enjoying some jazz and Susan Boyle’s “I Dreamed a Dream”  in this upstairs room.  Watching the lights of the city.

And of course, I had lust of this two-room play-house for the little ones.

But mostly, I was thankful.  The home was magnificent.  But inside lives a real family.  A real man and woman who look to pour themselves out for their family.  Who go into public schools and do ministry.  And who have raised 5 kids in affluence, for lives in Christian ministry.

The people and their hearts- that may have been the most inspiring aspect of all.

The family we are staying with feels quite familiar to me.  This morning I awoke to small foot-steps on the floor above, as one of the grand-children came downstairs for breakfast.

Mr. and Mrs. W have 5 children and 14 grand-children!  Mr. W owns this company (www.woodfruitticher.com) and even though he had thought perhaps one of his sons might inherit the family business, none have desired to and all 5 kids are solidly locked into lives of ministry.  Church-planting, RUF, seminary.  How incredible is that? It does not take long driving around and eating around Mountain Brook, Alabama to see the tremendous  affluence.  It is a very wealthy community full of beautiful people.  So it is with great admiration that I look at parents whose children are all walking with the Lord and who have placed independent ministry-lives for their families, above income.  Who have walked away from the affluence in search of something richer.

Interestingly, Mr. and Mrs. W are pro public-schooling.  He is an elder in the PCA church which makes it even more refreshing!  We had great conversation the night I arrived and it was informative and encouraging to pick their brains on various topics.

Here is an article my friend emailed me last night.  It is worth the read.  About life as a public-school family.  The site is www.sortacrunchy.typepad.com:

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On feeling called to public schools

I’ve written this post no less than a dozen times in my head.  I pretend to be perplexed as to why it is so hard for me to share this part of our family’s life with you, but that’s just charade.  I know exactly why it’s hard: I’m afraid. I’m afraid of being criticized and questioned.

But then I read words of wisdom from finslippy (in A few words about fear) and she reminds me:

if no one dislikes you, you’re not doing it right.

So, I’m turning my chin up to the fear and trusting you with this from my heart.

This will not be a

1) criticism of homeschooling (if you are new here, you may not know I’ve run a series of guest posts from homeschoolers.  Click on the “schooling” tag from the category cloud in the sidebar to read more.)

nor a

2) defense of the public school system in the United States of America

Most every family that I know (online or offline) who homeschools will tell anyone who asks that they feel called to educate their children at home.  The reasons for this vary greatly, but most feel utterly confident that this is the best choice for their family.

In a very similar way, we feel called to public schools. I’m going to share a couple of things with you that flesh out that statement, but I want to make clear from the start that sending our girls to public school is simply what we feel led by the Lord to do.  For now.

My sophomore year in high school, in an Honors English II class, we were given the assignment to write our own obituaries.  I doodled around a bit, and then quickly wrote out what I felt was a quite satisfactory homage to my long-lived, much-revered life.  (I was fifteen, after all.)  My friend Kelly sat next to me and worked the whole hour on hers, but grew increasingly agitated.

I just can’t stand thinking about dying.  I’m afraid of dying.  Aren’t you afraid of dying? she asked.

Well, I mean, not really. And that’s when the Holy Spirit stirred within me and compelled me – she of little courage – to stammer out that actually, I wasn’t afraid of dying because I believed when I died that I would spend eternity in heaven because of my faith in Jesus Christ.

Later that afternoon, our minister to students accompanied me to Kelly’s house where she prayed to receive Christ as her Savior.  I went to a different high school in our hometown after my sophomore year, but I know that soon after high school graduation, Kelly got married and she and her husband went on the mission field to spread the gospel abroad.

That was a defining moment in my life.  Who knew one conversation would bring so much yield?

I graduated from college with a degree in English – emphasis on Secondary Education.  I married a man whose degree is also in education.  From our earliest days of student teaching, we saw the dynamic and powerful impact of Christian teachers and Christian students in public schools.

When I taught English for three years in Texas, my heart and faith were encouraged by the amazing and authentic Christian students I had in class.  I can see their faces in my mind as clearly as if it were yesterday, even though it has been six years since I last had a classroom of my own.  A small group of them were given permission to meet on campus in the morning for prayer and a quick devotional time, and they asked to use my classroom for that purpose.

All of this is to say that I passionately believe there is a place for Christian families in the public schools of our communities.

I will say, however, as Dacey’s first day of Pre-K neared, I probably asked Kyle eighty times or more if he still thought we were doing the right thing by choosing public school.  We’ve prayed and listened and prayed and listened and for this moment in time, we still feel strongly that this is how God is leading us a family.  We believe that He has placed us in this community for a time such as this, and that we, as a family, can minister to other families in our community through the common ground of a shared schooling choice.

I feel like I can’t publish this with complete transparency without this one last note: Bear in mind that we live in The Buckle of The Bible Belt.  We sit behind the Superintendent of Schools and his wife (an elementary school counselor) every. single. Sunday in church.  Dacey’s Pre-K teacher is also the Director of Children’s Ministries at our church.  Last month, I was in the front office signing Dacey out early one day, and the door to the principal’s office was open.  I heard him on a personal phone call saying, “I’ve prayed about it and I think . . .” (anddon’ttellanyonethis but at the Pre-K Christmas program, Away in the Manger was worked into the program.  shhhhhhhhhh!)

Does this mean our public schools closely mirror a Christian school?  Oh no.  Not even close.  But we have the luxury of a comfort level there that many, many families do not have.

I say all of this to re-affirm that today I am simply telling you a little more about a topic I’ve managed to avoid for four years.  This is why we choose public schools.

This morning I am leaving town for Birmingham, Alabama.  One of my closest friends and I are having a few days “off”.  She is coming in from St. Louis and I from Atlanta, and Birmingham seems to be a good middle-ground.  Plus, friends of hers are lending us a vacation home, which makes the arrangement free of charge and relaxing.  How nice!

I am leaving these little ones until Saturday:

They, in all their creative, messy and constant expression.  I love them dearly.

This little one whom we had a show-down with last night: Eat your bread-stick and go to bed, or get a spanking and go to bed.  She chose the spanking.  Of course.  She is tough and grit and determination, yet so funny.  I will not miss disciplining her, but I will miss….her.

And this little guy with his Spiderman neck-tatoo.  He decided the night before I left must be a busy night.  I awoke to staring eyes and coughing and that sense of  AHHH, what are you doing 2 inches from my face?  I pray for his wife already- that she would be extra-patient and kind.  My mother’s heart can lovingly lay him back down and rub his back and fix his humidifier and make his ice water and kiss and hug and reassure- at 1am.  But his clutching his throat while he rasps: I’m gonna die.  Make it stop.  This is the worst.…might get a wee bit…old  to a future lady.  Oh, my alpha-male who cannot deal with a head-cold.

And this one.  She makes me vow before I go anywhere that I shall call promptly at bed-time.  And when I do she will generally cry and say that she cannot bear it one more second.  I must hurry home.  And all her drama of the day will spill out.  So, I told her that we would pray over the phone each night, and I will long-distance “tuck her in“.

And my Papoose. 

The little appendage that is always mine.  The one I coo at and talk with all morning while the kids are at school.  And the one who wears me clear out:).  I have created a monster in Will: a co-dependent egomaniac.  One day his wife will call and complain to me “You ruined him.  And now he is mine to deal with for the rest of my life”.  Yes, it is true future-wife.  I cannot deny my soft-spot.  And I am very sorry.

And this one.  He lets me get away from my responsibilities at times, and he does so with such grace.  He makes it easy on my mind and on my conscience.  And he always tries to spend special time with the kids when I am gone, so they have memories with just him.  I’ll miss him too.

(There is a story behind this photo, which is one of a series of shots Pat took.  He grew a beard a while back and then got all itchy and decided he needed to shave.  Well, one night I was laying in bed waiting for him to turn out the light, and I kept hearing low giggling from the bathroom.  I was getting more irritated because my mental ability to cope shuts down at 10pm, and it was like…10:01.  Trouble.  I asked what are you doing?  And there he was, making faces in the mirror and taking his picture.  He would shave a little, take a picture.  Shave until he had chops- take another picture.  Shave until he had a half-mustache.  Take a picture.  So funny he is.  Well, I am not allowed to tamper whatsoever with these photos.  They are very dear to Pat and to his enormous funny bone).

But, simply because a blog should be from the heart and because I seek to be genuine in all things, I am just going to say….

I will not miss this!

And this one

Once we were 4.  We had 2 children, and one on the way.

We left Anna and Josh with grand-parents.  And I carried Emma on the inside.  We were celebrating 5 years of marriage.  And thought it a good opportunity to get away and explore.

We walked the streets of Boston by the hour.  And then we drove into Maine and hiked all over.  I was SO tired, but played my game-face well and kept up with our busy pace.

We stayed at a beautiful inn and ate great food.  And we enjoyed the scenery.

And we woke up in the mornings and stood amazed at creation.

And in the evenings, we went out on the water and were…speechless.

I want to go back to Maine.

To see the boats coming in.

Full of lobster.  (Not that I like lobster, but the process of lobstering is very interesting). 

To watch the sun rise and set in a crispness that is only found in the North. 

I want to walk those trails again.

But now we are six.  So, first we need to find a baby-sitter…

…with lots and lots of available energy.