Homeschooling...the impossible possibility.

Along with all the other new things in our household, we started homeschooling this month. And by "we," I mean "I".  I started homeschooling our kindergartener.  No, I'm not crazy. There are a lot of reasons behind this decision, but it boils down to this: the Lord made it clear that this was our only option at this crossroads in our life. Even though it was never, ever, EVER something I would have pictured myself doing, here I am. And, because I know HE is in it,  I am jumping in and doing this with a joyful heart.

So, here are a few pictures of our first few weeks. (Which have been crazy and fun and exhausting and by day 2,  I was ready to start calling schools for enrollment options.  But, we got through it. )


This is our school room.  It was a great surprise to me when we arrived at my in-laws house to find this little room set-up for us. I added some of the school touches (the white board and behavior chart, etc.).  It was one of those unexpected blessings that I appreciate every day.

Noah's behavior chart. He gets a treat out of the treasure box on Friday if he stays off red all week.

1st day of school.

During our second week of school, we studied the Egyptians.  Noah got to make a mummy:

We paused for a minute the other day to check out the snow coming down hard. And, yes, we did go outside for "recess."  It was a cold one!

Here's one of many outside break times with Seth and Mollie (that's our dog.  Remember her? She's a giant now.  She has lots of super-neat talents, too! Like she can eat plastic, wood, even her own poop. If it's not chained to the ground, she eats it! Isn't that so super awesome? cough cough)

What can I say? A boy and his dog. 

As I mentioned in my last post, the first couple days were pretty hard and the first day in particular ended with 3 blood-shedding incidents between my younger 2 sons.  To Noah's credit, he plowed right through his school work without getting distracted by the screaming and the agonizing cries of his younger 2 siblings. I, however, found myself getting frazzled.  By the end of day 2, I needed a glass of wine. 

This was the start of day 2. The calm before the storm.

We are now in a regular schedule of starting school at 9 and ending at 11. If you know me at all, you know I like my schedules!  (Babywise, anyone?)  So, we are in a routine and it is in no small part due to my sister-in-law and mother-in-law.  They have helped me with my 2 little ones almost every day since day 3.   Because of them, I get almost 2 hours of un-interrupted time working with Noah.  It is pure bliss and something I fully did not expect.  Another not-so-little thing I was surprised and blessed by!

When Ryan and I made the decision for me to homeschool Noah, I emailed 2 women in particular about how to approach this. I was confused, I was nervous, and I was convinced that Noah would end-up either stupid or a social shut-out.  I know we are only 3 weeks in, but it's calmed my nerves and I can see the light in the homeschool tunnel. At least til the end of kindergarten. I can't think of 1st grade yet, or I'll have a nervous breakdown. But for now, we are settled and we are good. A HUGE thank you to Jenny and Nora. They've been my #1 supporters and coaches through this. 

A New Year, A New Adventure

Well, it's here! 2012. Whew...for my little Friesen five fam, this is a year we've both dreaded and looked forward to.  I'm kinda happy the way God has worked all of this out for us, timing our new adventure with the new year. It feels appropriate in many ways. The death of one season and finding new life in the next season.  It's just beautiful the way the Father works out even those little details.

So, a brief update: we have made the big MOVE!

Our moving crew. Aka...our friends.  :)

This was my moral support on moving day...one of my best friends,  Kath. (I love you!)

We are now living in Vancouver, British Columbia.  My sweet parents helped me and the boys fly up while Ryan and his dad drove my car 3,000 miles across the USA.

A quick kiss goodbye for my hubs before he left for Canada.

My dad taking care of Seth on the plane.  An i-phone always works, folks. ( And there's Jackson creepin' in the corner.)

Jackson helping his Mollie-dog look out the window as we descend into Vancouver.

We are all settled in now and trying to get adjusted to life here. Ryan is busy working while I stay home with the kiddos. They've been patient with this mama as I try to navigate unfamiliar roads, shop in unfamiliar grocery stores, use new currencies, drive in kilometers per hour rather than mph, and all the while look as cool and in control as I can. There have been funny moments and a few almost-stop-the-car-and-cry moments. But, just as only the father can do, he's given me a peace that surpasses every other emotion flailing around inside me.

Thanks to so, so many of you for the outpouring of love and support for my family as we make this transition. Both our American and Canadian friends have been awesome. I, especially, have felt loved from both sides. I've received too many emails and texts to count from my friends back home. And 1 very special card in the mail...thanks Kath. :) And after being here only a week, a welcome tea was given in my honor at the home of one of Ryan's aunt's. That was so unexpected and terribly special; I think I needed it more than I realized.  :)  Thanks Aunty Judy!

A lot has happened in the short time we've been living here.  Ryan and I celebrated our 9 year wedding anniversary.  He took me dancing and to dinner.  Actually, he took me to dance lessons.  Go ahead and laugh. I did. I may or may not have shed a tear or two as well.

I realized, towards the end of the night, how much of a boy-mom I am when Ryan asked me if I wanted to go dancing again and I responded by saying "maybe we could go rock climbing next time?"  That threw him for a loop, even after 9 years.  I think I'd feel more steady on my feet on the side of a rock than in dancing shoes with Michael Jackson in the background telling me to beat it. Some people's hips just shouldn't move that way. Including mine.

We also had our first couple of snow days and started homeschooling. (That is a whole other blog my friends!  Just a preview: we ended the first day with only 3 blood-shedding incidents between the boys. Better than I expected).

Here's a few pics to enjoy.

It was a weird thing seeing our cars under snow!

First snowman. He borrowed my hat from Amanda. :)

Our new adventure has begun!!

Merry Christmas

Christmas is normally my favorite time of year.  I just love everything about it. The smells, the sounds, the sights. But this year, Christmas day has just been a big fat reminder to me of what's coming for me and my kids: moving day.

Noah--Christmas 2010

It started in November, when we had that first cold snap.  I got excited for a second and then quickly remembered: oh no. This means the move is coming. And then Thanksgiving rolled around and I started to feel that kid-like excitement growing in me at the thought of Black Friday, Christmas shopping, and I'm not gonna lie...Christmas food. One of the best parts, right? But, again, I stopped myself before the excitement could gather. Because, frankly, even though I KNOW this is where God is moving us, it's been hard to think about how the goodbye's will happen. What could I possibly do to say goodbye to my friends and family the right way? Is there a right way? A way that's more meaningful than just a hug and a "bye"?

So, obviously, my attitude has been less than stellar. I've been trying to remind myself that I have excuses for sadness this holiday season: leaving home, leaving country; saying goodbye to precious friends and wondering how soon I'll make new ones; saying goodbye to family and knowing full-well that this is a void no one else can fill.

So, yeah, I've been excusing myself. I've allowed myself to be slightly pitiful.

And then sometime last week I started thinking about Mary and the painful life changes she went through in less than a year. A teenager, probably 14 or 15 at best.  Pregnant. Engaged to a man who may well be the only person who believes her story about an angel appearing and telling her she's to be the mother of the Messiah.  She was most likely abandoned by an ashamed family, or, at the least, given a horrible dose of judgement.  We women know about those cutting eyes other women can make. Kinda like high school? And we all remember how much fun THAT was.  And this was probably 10x worse. Then when the time came, she was alone, without her mother or sister, giving birth, in a dirty barn. Exactly the way we little girls dream it will happen, right?  She was in a situation where God called her to do something beyond herself, give of something greater than her own life.

The Bible is vague about so many of the events recorded on its pages.  Yet, it records in detail Mary's response to the life path that is suddenly thrust before her:

"My soul magnifies the Lord! How I rejoice in God my Savior! For he took notice of his lowly servant girl, and now generation after generation will call me blessed. For he, the Mighty One, is holy, and he has done great things for me." Luke 1:46-49

I love that she says her soul magnifies the Lord. It not only challenges me, but last week, it reminded me of why Christmas is Christmas.

Although I do love all the wonderful things surrounding the holiday season, I was reminded of Mary's response to the Lord.  I'm sure she thought that carrying a child without being married was the "worst" thing she'd face. Little did she know that 33 years later she'd watch that perfect baby boy be beaten and whipped. Not just for me. But for her too. For all of our sins. I wonder if after he was buried and the finality of his death settled over her, was she able to say "my soul magnifies the Lord"?  My gut tells me that she could.  That in every stage, his birth, death, and then his glorious resurrection, Mary's soul magnified the Father.

So, who am I to stop myself from celebrating the greatest birthday in history? The greatest story, really. Because it didn't just happen in a day. The full meaning of Christmas happened over the 33 years of Jesus' life.  So, I am officially in full-swing Christmas mode.  Bring it on.  The food.  The family. The fun.  But, more than anything, reflecting on my Savior's birth. And creating an environment within my spirit that enables me to say, "Lord, my soul magnifies you."

Merry Christmas!!!

Me and the hubs; Christmas 2009

Seth- Christmas 2010

Jackson and Noah- Christmas 2009

Noah-Christmas 2007

Please Remove Your Shoes...and other Canadian Curiosities

Once upon a time I went to Canada as a young 15-year-old girl visiting my best friend.  I planned my outfits carefully and packed as many outfits, including shoes, as I could in my suitcase.  (This was back in the day when flying with a suitcase was free and there was no 50 lb. limit. Ahhh...those were the days.  Wait. Did I just age myself?).  So, imagine my surprise when I landed and found out that shoes were not allowed in Canada.  I'm kidding. Sort-of.

You see, it is a part of Canadian culture to remove your shoes when you enter someone's home.  Shoes are welcome in any public place, obviously. But, listen you Americans! Don't you dare wear your heels or boots or flip flops or whatever it is your feet are transported in, into a Canadian home. You take those bad boys off!

But what do I do with my shoes, you ask?

As I learned when I was 15, you take your shoes off and put them by the door.  That's right.  You'd better hope that you aren't wearing your "special smelling" socks when you pop by someone's house.  Because it's socks, not shoes, that are welcome in Canadian households.

So, I'm going to try my best not to offend either side of this situation.  Because, listen, I can surely see the necessity of having guests take off their shoes in a northern climate.  Vancouver gets more rain than almost anywhere in North America.  I don't want mud on my floors! And what about snow and slush in the winter?  Another good reason for taking off shoes.

But...I'm not gonna lie.  The whole concept is a foreign thing to me. Obviously, being from the south, I wasn't raised removing my shoes every time I entered a house.  In fact,  if I ever took my shoes off in a person's house we were visiting, it was considered rude.

So, at 15 years old, I had certain questions run through my head.  Questions I still struggle with.  For example:  What if you have really stinky feet?  Like the kind of stink that doctors have to treat?  That could be embarrassing.  Or what if your socks have holes all in them because those were the only clean socks you could find that particular day? (Yes, I'm speaking from experience. Don't judge me, man).  What if you are wearing hose that you don't want to snag?

But, and this is the most important question of all, what if your shoes MAKE the outfit? GIRLS!?!?! WOMEN!?!?! Do you hear me? What if you are only 5 feet tall (cough cough) and almost every pair of jeans requires  heels or wedges? When the shoes are taken off, you look deflated. What if it's winter time and you are wearing boots with leggings? And then you have to take the boots off? Outfit destroyed. What if you are going over to a friend's house for dinner and you get all cute with skinny jeans and boots and leg warmers.  And then you get there...you just take it all off?  These are the questions I need answered!

So...I've made a decision for our Canadian-mostly-American home.  Once we have one, that is.  All guests will not be allowed to take off their shoes.  Unless, of course, it's a horribly rainy or snowy day.  But, if it is beautiful outside or if their shoes are clean, I want our guests to know that in the Friesen house...shoes are welcome! Shoes of all shapes and sizes.  So those with smelly feet: you are welcome! No need to be embarrassed anymore! Those who love their new boots: c'mon over and show them off!
Those who have an aversion to picking through other people's shoes to find their own (this has happened to me and it almost scarred me), you are welcome in our house!

I've picked through much larger piles than this. Disgusting is what that is!

I think I will have a sign at our house that says "please KEEP your shoes on!" But, because I've never lived there and my opinion is entitled to change, I will keep one on hand like this that I saw on pinterest:

Or, I may pull that sign out on days that I just don't feel like vacuuming. Which may be more days than not.

For my American friends, here's a totally un-related picture series of beautiful Vancouver.  We will be living there in (gulp!) 16 days.

The Forgotten Blog

It's been over 2 months since my last post. And I realize this is a huge let-down to those millions of people looking at my blog every single day waiting for a word from me. To those millions, I offer my sincerest apologies.  If you could each send me 1 dollar, I will start blogging full-time.

To the rest of you: there are a lot of reasons I haven't written. I've felt...overwhelmed, I suppose. So much change happening so quickly has stressed me out more than I thought it would.  Allow me to offer a quick update:

We sold our house, as you may remember. We moved on a particularly fantastic day. Whoever said that a Tropical Storm makes for a bad moving day was a liar. A liar, I tell you!

A HUGE thank you to our awesome friends that helped move us. We love you! And we need you again on December 27th. Seriously. Mark it on your calendars.

After we put our stuff in storage, Ryan left for Vancouver. (With Mollie, I might add.)  The boys and I stayed in Mobile and moved in with my parents.  I realize that many of you don't understand the reasons for the forced separation, but it's been good. For one, Noah started kindergarten in August and we didn't want to uproot him so soon after starting school.

 Noah's first day of school.  How has 6 years gone by so fast?!

Secondly, I was honored to be the Preview Party Chair at the 2011 Junior League of Mobile's Christmas Jubilee.  I had been working on it since January and it was important to me to see it through.  (The Preview Party happened last week, by the way, and was a huge success.  The whole market was! We raised a lot of money that is going straight back to our community).

Here's a few of us from the Christmas Jubilee Committee at Preview Party.

And finally, this is our year to be with my parents for Christmas.  We knew that if we flew to Vancouver in August, we couldn't afford to fly back to Mobile in December.  Because, as anyone who has ever flown in or out of Mobile knows, it costs $756,000 dollars to fly here.  Maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but not by much.  What can I say? It's a high-destination city.

So, that's where life leaves us. Ryan is up in Canada working very hard. And the boys and I are here.  It's not been easy, necessarily, being away from Ryan. But it's been easier than I thought it would be.  And that has so much to do with my mom and dad. I have never felt more humbled or more grateful for having such wonderful parents.  I will always remember these months spent living here as some of the best times of my life.  We've made memories that will help carry me through the long, lonely days ahead.  So many tender little moments I've witnessed between my parents and my kids that I will treasure forever.  I have never felt so at-home in my life. It's been a good time for me, for the kids, and for my parents.  And I will miss it, with all my heart.

my dad reading to the 3 boys. just 1 of many moments like this!

The next month is when all the big changes are happening. Ryan comes home for Christmas and then we move our stuff into 2 PODS on December 27th. Ryan and his dad then drive my car up to Vancouver. And on December 29th my parents are helping fly the boys and I to Vancouver. (Because I'm just going to be honest here and say that I'd lose at least 1, possibly 2 kids, if I flew by myself.)

When we initially get to Vancouver, we will be staying with my in-laws.  And, oh yeah: I'll be homeschooling Noah for the remainder of his kindergarten year.  And that is the extent of what I know about our future.

I get a lot of questions from people about what we'll do when we get up there.  Let me just answer all the questions with one big blanket answer: I HAVE NO IDEA.  I have no idea where we'll be living.  I have no idea how I'm going to homeschool Noah while I have the 2 little ones climbing all over me.  I have no idea where we will be going to church.  Trust me. I wish I knew.

Here is what I do know: God is good. He hasn't left us in a vulnerable place. He is walking this road with us and providing the means to do it. I don't know what the future looks like for the Friesen five.  I don't even know how to begin to think of our future. And yeah...that bugs me.  But, I know his grace will be sufficient. It has to be.

Boxed In

As I mentioned in my last post, we sold our house.  And we are moving out tomorrow. TOMORROW.  In case you were wondering, it is actually an impossibility to pack your house with 3 small children in the house at the same time.  Don't believe me?  Here's the boys room that I have already packed twice now:

I have found myself boxing up things only to find them in a different room a few minutes later.  At first, I would think "hmm...I thought I already packed this. Oh well."  And then I'd re-pack it in the box.  But, after the first 20-30 times it happened, I began to realize that I wasn't in the early stages of dementia, but it was my kids. So, I called in help.  (That's my mom, by the way.  She has made it her job these last 6 years to be a grandmother.  It's actually what I aspire to do.  No kidding.  To be a mom to my kids. Work a while. But once I start having grandkids, I want to be available whenever and wherever. I so look forward to serving my kids in that way!).

I totally needed her help this week.  She took my boys while I packed. My house is wall to wall of boxes.  Literally:

I am not a clean freak, per se, but I definitely like my house in order and things put away.  So, THIS is driving me nuts:

I've caught myself murmuring prayers as I box things up, mainly the breakable things: "please, Lord, protect our stuff."  Then just 2 days ago, I said it again, and clear as the dawn the Lord just said right back to me: it's just stuff.  And it kinda hit me about where we store up our treasures.  Don't get me wrong, I sure hope our stuff makes it through all 6 moves it's going to make (literally, 6 moves. first on a truck, then into storage, then into another truck, then driven across country to another country, then unloaded and re-loaded onto another truck. Do you also have a headache?).  So, you see, I do hope our stuff, every single thing, makes it without a scratch and in proper working order.  But, if it doesn't...it's just stuff.  And I am being reminded through this whole transition who my trust is in.  My treasures had better be the eternal kind.


Meanwhile, please allow me to share with you how incredible our house looks. This is what it looks like right now. At this very moment. And we are moving out tomorrow.  It's ok. Go ahead and laugh. Or cry. Because that's what I'm doing.