bsmiles and sunny days

I think *homesick* is a state of mind, or being, or something more than a way you feel. On a daily basis I mill through a long list of things I miss about the Midwest, usually it starts with dirt while I'm sweeping up sand one of the forty-seven times during the day. I never wanted to be a homebody. As a kid I envied the new kids in school that would arrive in October and be gone by May first because "they moved around a lot". I was born in one house and five years later moved to another house less than a mile away, and that is where my parents will spend the rest of their lives. In high school I pined for a life on the road, seeking anyone that would let me tag along. It wasn't that I was discontent with my family or the life they gave me; it was just in my blood to get out and see the rest of what was out there. So I spent weeks at my Grandma's house, worked summer camps as often as possible, found people that would take me out Emporia for the weekend, and

Outside of the vast foundational moral reasons that we homeschool, there are safety concerns that also haunt our public schools and with less and less parents parenting, the concerns are skyrocketting. Not only that, but the need for teachers is so great that passionate teachers with a love for our children are being teamed up next to predators with wicked intentions. I am always hesitant to express these grave concerns very often because they are scary and I had never recorded any real evidence, only using secondhand isolated stories that I'd heard on the news and from other parents, until today when I was perusing the headlines and found this: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071020/ap_on_re_us/teacher_sex_abuse I know some people will quickly scan the article so I want to share one quote with you from it, just to highlight the severity of the problem. "From my own experience — this could get me in trouble — I think every single school district in the nation has at least one per

One of the scriptures I read in the study recently was * 1 John 4:7-8 Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. 8 The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.* This is a startling realization that forces me into some serious self-examination. I love God, and as a rule, I love people, but sometimes I find myself with a permanent scowl on my face out in the community. I don't hate everyone around me, but it seems I've become so cynical, just waiting for someone to cross me, that I'm ready to attack at any given moment. What does that say about the love of Christ in me? I shudder at the thought... how am I any different than anyone in the world? I have really pondered this question and last night while I was studying, the last thing in the workbook said to read Ephesians 3:14-19 and personalize it as a prayer. This little exercise brought such clarity to me and relinquished the pressure to

We are six days into the antibiotic regimen and I am thankful. Kennedy used to throw up with every dosage no matter what it was. I attribute that to the fact that when she was tiny she had to have her stomach emptied in the hospital with some awful remedy that she was given by mouth. They say it takes about fifteen minutes to take effect, but it only took a couple before she hurled and hurled and hurled. At *almost* 10 she still has to choke it down, but now it's a battle between mind and body. She's amazing, such a fighter. It used to be a nightmare when they all went on antibiotics because they follow her. So, if she panicked, they all did. Now she's coaxing herself into taking it slowly but surely, and also encouraging everyone else to be so brave and do the same thing. No one else has the trouble she does with it so her encouragement has instigated an excitement about taking medicine. In response, she wants to be a part of every one's dosage. She takes hers, so Mica

I can't believe it's been so long since I sat down here and spilled my guts! Dale came home and it took a little while to adjust to the homecoming and work schedule, and then our sweet, sweet friends came and rang our doorbell and sat at our dining room table and slept in our beds and made us feel like we were home again. I would post all the glorious pictures of our visit if I had taken any, but somehow we spent three days together and didn't snap a single shot!!! I cherish it none the less, because they were here in real life, in our house, laughing and staying up too late with us, and it was just what we needed. And then we all got sick, sick, sick. Tre went down first. *I'm still praying that our company didn't pack it up and carry it across the miles home with them!* When Tre spiked 103, I called the nurse help line and they sent us to Urgent Care. We waited in the waiting room for two hours and then waited in our exam room for another hour. We should have gott