Picking up the Pieces of their Passions

Last week, my second son arrived at my house with a movie crew. He did this the morning after a three day dance competition in Baltimore, which was a couple days after Patrick had surgery, which was a couple days after another dance competition. And there was soccer thrown in. And funerals. And crazy ridiculous professional challenges. But back to that movie crew. They arrived just as I was leaving to take Katie to the ER. And in the six hours I was gone, they transformed my house.

I think there were about 18 kids. They arrived early in the morning of our first 90 degree Virginia day. Christian wrote a screenplay that begins and ends with a little girl going to bed–he wrote it with his 8-year-old sister in mind.  So, the movie crew needed her bedroom. Except that her bedroom didn’t work for lighting. So they needed to turn Stephen’s bedroom into her bedroom. And then they needed another room up there for a Green Room. And another for costuming. The dining room was for feeding hungry college kids all night long. (Oh, did I mention that this shoot required darkness outside? Yep, it did.)  And the living room was for spreading equipment all over the place. One scene was shot in the family room. The kitchen was a command center for laptops and video playback and whatever else.

And by the way, we discovered the air conditioning upstairs wasn’t working. In the heat, under the lights, all night long, they went after the right shot, the right tone, the right nuance to make the vision come to life.

It was a kind of a crazy night.  Crazy wonderful.

Karoline worked with the crew beautifully. Stephen and Nick helped with whatever they could. Kristin scooped up Katie (she’s fine) and Sarah for a sleepover. Mary Beth made a quick exit for a friend’s house. And Christian--my boy who spent his childhood creating sets out of cardboard and duct tape and watching each movie more critically than the next—was the director he’s always known he was born to be.

I waved off the last of the crew around 4:30 AM.  I rose at 6:30 to claim my bit of quiet time.

All things considered, they’d done a wonderful job cleaning up. Still, there were little remnants of creativity everywhere I turned. Intermingled with Christian’s movie things were the creative pursuits of the littlest girls. And in every corner, reminders that we never really finished unpacking and putting away after the dance shows.

My sewing machine still sat on a center island, paying homage to frantic, last minute sewing before leaving for dance and a little midnight adjustment of a flannel nightgown on a summer-hot night under movie lights.

As I picked up pieces and restored order, I thought about an article someone had recently shared, where my words in this post were quoted as the author celebrated my eldest son’s 30 Under 30 award.

I have educated all these children at home, all these years. Four of them are high school graduates. One is a college graduate. Two more are on the brink of graduating university. And one is 3 credits shy of finishing her first year of college (before her peers finish their senior year of high school). We wedged senior prom in with semester finals. That alone took considerable creativity.

It occurs to me that this home education thing doesn’t really look much like the ones so carefully outlined in the classical education books I devoured when these big kids were little and I was super idealistic. It doesn’t look much like those well-organized plans I loved to make. It’s always looked more or less like a bit of a mess. The education is real and it's purposeful and it's always been more about their passions than my plans.

This is who we are. We are a sunroom store to sell “Quotes and Cliches,” embellished in glitter glue. We are cardboard sets and YouTube videos.  We are painting a favorite saint. We are writing a screenplay. We are creating websites. We are Bibles and paper everywhere. We are dancing, choreographing dance, teaching dance, and costuming dances.

Some of us write.

Another calls some pretty cool TV shows his work.  There is an Emmy on the shelf in the living room.

We are creative.

As an aside, we are also very serious about soccer –which actually requires a hefty dose of creativity if one is to succeed on the field. There is an NCAA Championship trophy beneath the Emmy. But that’s likely an essay for another day.

After they left us, the movie crew went to shoot in an old church. My father and stepmother showed up on set to deliver boxes of donuts to sleepy, hungry, still enthusiastic moviemakers. The creative support system runs deep in this family. From there, they went to film in a cave. They ran into some trouble logistically and Friday found me more than a little worried about the success of the project.

Kristin was over with Lucy. She had a pattern in her hands and some thoughts about baby dresses and hats and as I fell apart a little worrying about the Director, I took out fabric and made suggestions and envisioned sweet baby outfits. Kristin set to work at the dining room table and I –in the midst of so many more pressing things to do—pulled out every bit of fabric I owned and refolded and stacked. And prayed.

By the time those shelves were back in order and I’d promised myself to attend to some of my own creative impulses very soon, Christian texted to tell me he’d solved his problem.

I know my house won’t always be full of the ideas of my children. But I have a hunch that this will be a haven for artists for years to come—whether to bounce a script idea, or find a willing editor, or raid the fabric stash and then let little aunties teach the toddler to pirouette while someone sews on my machine, the heart of my home nourishes the heart of the artist. It’s likely I will spend many more years picking up the pieces left behind by children who know they were created in the image of the Creator.

And I’m glad.

Pulling Weeds and Rooting out Sin

It’s planting time. And growing time. And watering time. But, wait. First, it’s weeding time. Every year, I say I’m going to get after the weeds before it’s a big job, and every year, I don’t. The weeds around the trees are particularly overgrown this spring. They’re woody and tenacious and in need of some serious tending. Come with me into the garden. Let's chat.

Gathering my Thoughts in the Waiting Room

Outside my window:  Charlottesville is coming awake. It’s early and I’m sitting by a sunny window overlooking the Corner. Ill be here for the next hour and a half while Patrick is back in surgery.

Listening to: the noise of competing waiting room televisions. I’m contemplating going back to the car to get my earbuds.

Clothing myself in: Jeans, a poet’s shirt, walking shoes.

Talking with my children about these books:  The girls have begun a dance alphabet writing project, using T is for Tutu.  For Sarah, it’s a dictation and drawing project. For Karoline and Katie, the longer sidebars will be source material for IEW-style writing and springboards for further research.

In my own reading: The last couple weeks, much of my reading has been with Mary Beth. She’s just about finished with a complete semester of college. This was to have been the final semester of her senior year in high school, but she got going early, so the transition definitely had its bumpy moments. Her reading is interesting and we’ve done a lot of talking about her subject matter. All in all, I’m well-pleased with the experience and she’s done extremely well.  I spend a lot of time talking to my college kids about what they’re studying. A habit cultivated when they are little and their education is my responsibility, it has grown with us. The real goal of home education is to develop a learner who wants to learn, who is eager and self-motivated. I think, like so many things in life, a love of learning and an appreciation of education matures as we age and it goes through a series peaks and valleys.  As I peek into their books and discuss their papers, I learn so much! I’m well aware that dialogue of this sort is not commonplace. That’s a shame. We are all benefiting from the education afforded the older kids.

Thinking and thinking: Time management. The last two months have been all about time management and every last bit of my brain power has gone to figuring out how to make it all work—to stretch ourselves to meet the needs of many children at various ages and stages without stretching to the breaking point.

Pondering: “The willingness to be and to have just what God wants us to be and have, nothing more, and nothing less, would set our hearts at rest and we would discover the simpler life, the greater peace. “–Elisabeth Elliot

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Rhythm has been elusive. I miss the easy rhythm of last summer when morning walks gave way to morning runs and days unfolded with purpose and with time. The last few months of have been relentlessly demanding. Mike has been away far more than he has been home. We’ve fallen out of long-established rhythms together.  The children have numerous unexpected happenings which have disrupted rhythm. I’ve begun to think of rhythm in the context of much smaller increments of time. What will just this moment look like? Does it have a rhythm? Can I at least adjust the rhythm of my breathing and slow the rhythm of my heart? What about the next hour? The coming gloriously beautiful afternoon?

Creating By Hand:  I made a couple more journal covers over the weekend. Katie made one for a friend as a confirmation gift and she was so pleased with how it turned out. I’m bringing some hand work with me this weekend. There will be plenty of last minute dance sewing as well, no doubt. 

I have recognized how much it means to mean to be able to create with my hands. I'm making a list of creative activities I want to pursue this summer. Bucket hats for little girls are first on the list. This little love is still a bit bald. 

Learning lessons In: Self care. I've been listening to The Highly Sensitive Person. I have to listen in very small doses. This book is sort of troubling and as I listen to her lay out the formidable challenges to people who are highly sensitive, I admit to be a little overwhelmed. But, in my highly-sensitve way;-), I'm processing it very slowly. One thing is certain: I really do need to take good care of myself, particularly in situations that are noisy and crowded, and that's kind of tricky when I'm the person in charge in a large household. 

Encouraging learning in: Pacing oneself. My college students are navigating all the end-of-semester deadlines. But each of them has some special considerations thrown in. Patrick had to finish up early in order to have surgery. Christian is shooting a movie next week, so he’s had to navigate exams and papers around the myriad of pre-production details.  And Mary Beth had a dance competition last weekend and another next weekend. Her final week of school was condensed to four days this week. She’s got to get it all done before we hit the road. I’ve learned that planning to fit those school deadlines around the rest of real life does not necessarily come naturally to high school- and college-aged kids. It’s learned. And coached. It’s also a very necessary life skill. I am forever moving things around in calendar squares in order to adjust and adapt. 

Keeping house: I’m in Charlottesville today.  I’ll be home midweek and quickly regroup in order to leave for the dance competition. We’ll have a long weekend of late nights and early mornings. Then, on Monday, Christian and his 18 person movie crew will move in to shoot part of the movie in my house.

I’m not a bit worried about housework. Nah. Not a bit.

Crafting in the kitchen: Last week, I packed a cooler full of good things to eat at dance. Some of us ate decently. Others barely ate. This weekend is trickier. The girls and I will be staying in hotel. In Baltimore. We won’t have a kitchen in the hotel. And I don’t think we will be wandering the neighborhood, looking for restaurants. Our hotel is connected to the venue and I think it’s going to be a pretty hunkered down affair. So. What to eat? Right now, I have no clue. I’m open to suggestions, though, so let me hear them!

To be fit and happy: Sigh. It's definitely time to clean up some bad habits that have crept into my days. Exercise needs a regular daily time of its own again. I've learned the hard way that when it gets bumped, it doesn't happen. And I'm super glad to see the produce department at my grocery store come alive again. Nothing inspires healthy eating quite the way fresh bounty does. I'm re-reading (for the fourth time) Better than Before and trying to implement some of the great strategies there. It's time for me to be out there, collecting the sunrises and the sunsets again.

These sunsets happen at soccer practice almost every single day. Pure gift.

Giving thanks: For my second son. Christian celebrates a birthday on Wednesday. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for the very gift of his life. 

Loving the moments: When my little girl falls asleep in my arms. I know those days are numbered, but she still likes to be snuggled to sleep and I'm sure glad she does. (Psst: I got a text last night telling me she hit a major milestone in the life of a six-year-old.)

Planning for the week ahead: So here's the deal: Dance competitions are daunting ​to me for a myriad of reasons. I'm always a little nervous to travel alone with the four girls. That whole "fear of the marketplace" thing gets the better of me. The schedules for these things are relentless, mostly because I have children spanning every age group, but partly because they start ridiculously early and they run ridiculously late. They are loud and indoors--two things that trip my highly sensitive triggers. And this time, this one, is in Baltimore. 

Baltimore isn't exactly at the top of anyone's list of peaceful places to go this week. Last week, I was carefully following the news, watching and listening and trying to understand the situation. Then I realized that being sucked into 24/7 cable news was really making me crazy. And rather unhappy. So, I've moved away from that constant monitoring and resolved to wait until Thursday to research any of it further. <<---sigh. So, I wrote that this morning in the hospital. Now there's breaking news.

Fabric-covered journals:: a tutorial

Originally, this tutorial was planned for the Restore Workshop only. After unraveling the time and stitching together one more journal cover, I've decided that I love it so much I wanted to share it on here with everyone. As this series of my Restore Workshop comes to an end, I am happy to announce that we are working on future workshops from my dining room. My big hope and prayer is to ultimately prepare a homeschooling workshop, packed with tutorials for homeschooling, as well as create a year 'round community for Restore. Please enjoy this tutorial and share it as you'd like. Create one for yourself, your very best friend, and all someones special. And as soon as the details are in order, I hope you can join me for more Restore and we can make more beautiful things together. 

I’ve made at least a dozen of these fabric covers, designed to make a composition notebook beautiful, but I never stopped to write it all down so I could pass the instructions along. This is a wonderful place for scrap fabric (perhaps leftover from another Restore project) to become something truly beautiful.  It will fit a standard 9.75 X 7.5 inch composition book

When I set about to make this cover in order to jot notes as I went, I picked up a log cabin square with embroidery that I had begun for my friend Nicole’s January birthday.  My intent back then was to finish the embroidery in the middle of the square and then to use the piece as the center of a journal cover. For the purposes of this tutorial, I figured I’d finish the cover so that you could see and then I’d take the embroidery along with me to the waiting room while Patrick has surgery.  It seemed like a good plan.

As you can see when you look carefully at the pictures, I forgot temporarily that the embroidery pattern had been drawn in disappearing ink. That ink disappeared when the iron met the fabric in the construction process. Further, I grew unsure of my calculations and called Nicole to come doublecheck my numbers before I published this tutorial. So, the gift has perhaps lost a bit of its charm. I will redraw and she will have a journal, just not quite in the way I imagined.

You want to have a piece of fabric that measures 30 inches by 12 inches when you begin to actually make the journal cover. It can be all one piece or you can create patchwork. You can see several examples in the blog post. For this one, I created a log cabin square and then I added more strips to fill out the height and the width. As you create, you might need to consider where  your “front and center” will be. Aim for it to fall about 8 inches from the edge.

With the wrong side up, turn the short end under half an inch on both sides (wrong sides together) and press each carefully. Then, turn it under another half inch and edgestitch to close the fold. This will give you finished edges on both the pockets where the journal slips in.

Now position your cover over your notebook. Place it where you want that center to fall and put a pin somewhere to mark it for you.

Then, with the fabric wrong side down, fold the fabric in from either short end towards the middle. Watch where the front of the journal is going to be and adjust accordingly. Pin in place.

You are going to sew four different seams, one on each side. Sew an inch wide seam along each edge, backtacking or knotting at the beginning and end of each seam.

Cut the corners so that they’ll be crisp when you turn them.

Turn the whole piece so the right sides are out and use a chopstick or knitting knitting to sharpen the corners.

Slide the composition book into the pockets.

Pretty! 

Now, to finish that embroidery. I promise to do it this week. Come back next Friday for the reprise of needle & thREAD and see if I can make good on that promise. 

a very good year

The mercy of God is poured out upon us, making us just and giving us peace. This is a time for the Church to rediscover the meaning of the mission entrusted to her by the Lord on the day of Easter: to be a sign and an instrument of the Father’s mercy.” — Pope Francis

The pope has announced a Jubilee Year of Mercy to encourage the faithful to “welcome the numerous signs of the tenderness which God offers to the whole world.” He said that these signs of God’s tenderness are especially offered to the suffering, the alone, the abandoned and those “without hope of being pardoned or feeling the Father’s love.” 

A Jubilee Year holds special significance in Catholic tradition as a time of joy, remission, or universal pardon. The “year” will begin Dec. 8, 2015, the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, and conclude on the feast of Christ the King, Nov. 20, 2016. About a year intended to be a deliberate and joyous celebration of mercy, the pope has said he is “convinced that the whole church will find in this jubilee the joy needed to rediscover and make fruitful the mercy of God, with which all of us are called to give consolation to every man and woman of our time.”

That’s a lofty goal — to extend mercy to every man and woman. We begin at home, because often it is most difficult to extend genuine mercy within our four walls. Please read the rest here.