Still LOVE Theater

I'm going to be in another play. This one's called THE RIPPER. It's this weekend. You should come!

THE RIPPER is a new play by Scott Crain based on the "Jack the Ripper" murders of 1888 in Whitechapel. Only three more chances to see it! This Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night: November 11-13. For mature audiences only. Not for the squeamish.

"Gothic steampunk meets Victorian-era London with Scott Crain's macabre adaptation of the Jack the Ripper story. Opening right on the heels of Halloween, the show is decidedly dark but offers plenty of comic relief. Fans of Oracle Productions are likely to detect the thread of redemption Crain weaves throughout his work. Well-written and perfectly priced, The Ripper chills the spine, feeds the soul, and excites the senses."

Obedience and Freedom

While I was mowing the lawn tonight, I began thinking about what "obedience" means. When I read "obedience to Christ" in the Bible, I think my mind equates it with "freedom from sin," but what I really think it means is doing what we feel prompted to do by the Spirit and obeying God even when it seems unusual. I thought of Naaman, for example. He had leprosy, Elisha told him to wash in the Jordan river seven times (pretty unusual), and Naaman refused because "I thought, ‘He will surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper’" (2 Kings 5:11). Then he wanted to know why he couldn't wash in a different river. When his servants implored him to go back and obey the simple task of washing--rather than some great, nearly impossible task--"he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child and he was clean" (2 Kings 5:14).

Brian Ban, the pastor of The Anchor Fellowship, was talking today about how we, as a fellowship, have taken for granted the "grace" of God, and have, in essence, ceased to be aware of our sin. "Everything is permissible," he said. (For the context of that verse, click HERE.) During the prayer time at the end of the service, I asked Brian if I could share a short testimony. This is the first time I've ever spoken during a service at The Anchor, and we've been there for two years. But as I stood there, I felt like I was going to throw up if I didn't ask. I was sweating. I was shaking. I wanted to run to the bathroom, but I knew that I needed to obey the prompting of the Holy Spirit. So I asked.

I ended up sharing some pretty intimate information, and I felt incredibly vulnerable. I cried and shook for a while afterward and it took some time to get my bearings. I'm having a hard time wanting to go back. As I told a friend via FB message, it's a little like showing up to church without your clothes on and then expecting everyone not to remember what you look like naked when you come back the following week all dressed again.

In my story, I mentioned an "obedience" experience I had before I got married. I was at a little Baptist church in Clarksville and a lady was singing a beautiful spontaneous song toward the end of the service. All of a sudden, I felt like I needed to throw my hands in the air. Now, if I were to do that, I would instantly be the center of attention since no one else had their hands raised. But I felt like if I didn't do it, I would explode. So I did it. I obeyed.

And something happened.

I don't have a good explanation for it--all I know is prior to that moment, I was a slave to sin. It wasn't a fair fight. After that moment, I was a slave to righteousness (see Romans 6). I had the power to make the right choice in a compromising situation. I no longer felt like I was compelled to sin. All of the energy behind those "choices" had been diffused in an instant, and I felt like I was in control of myself again.

I don't think it's coincidence that the "fruit of the Spirit" (see Galatians 5) includes self-control.

I also think that if we perceive sin as a sickness of the heart, and go after healing instead of trying to work our way out of it, we'll find more success. For me, I think a couple things really helped:

1) I was desperate. I knew that I hated the way I felt about myself and what I was doing, but I didn't know how to stop. When my husband (boyfriend at the time) demonstrated a broken heart instead of anger--when he reminded me that he couldn't control me and that I was in control of myself--I was undone. No manipulation. No punishment. No attempts to control my behavior. Simply unconditional love and acceptance--and sadness for my sin against him. Wow. A couple years later, I read in scripture, "His loving-kindness leads us to repentance" (Romans 2:4). And now I have a better understanding of what that means. I went to God with my desperation and He extended mercy. His loving kindness literally changed my way of thinking--which changed my behavior. He went for the heart. I like that about Him.

2) I had James to stand with me and basically hold me in the refiner's fire (see Malachi 3). I didn't want to be there. I cried nearly every time we went to church. I had absolutely no explanation whatsoever for why I hated it so much. I wanted more than anything to leave. But he wouldn't waver. He said that once I figured out what I hated about it, he would consider going somewhere else. But I was never able to put it into words. And then I started feeling whole again. Healed. As if I had be going through surgery for months and months and then experiencing the pain of being sewn up and recovering and then . . . healing. Freedom. Peace. Wow.

I'm still not 100% healed. My heart still has some sick places--places of wounding and deep pain. And I may never see a fully healed heart as long as I'm living in this body in this fallen world. But that's not going to stop me from more surgery. And more recovery. And more healing. Freedom is kind of addictive. So I keep pursuing it.

"It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1).

My Goals

I'm wide awake from the tea that I drank tonight and my legs are aching from mowing the lawn today, so I thought I'd take a minute to jot down my thoughts.

I've established a few goals recently.

The first one is to read a portion of scripture every day--to myself. Ultimately, this means that I will read the Bible from cover to cover for the first time in my life, but right now, it's a portion of scripture--every day. That's it.

I also plan to read the Bible aloud to Judah this year. When he was three, we read The Beginner's Bible by Karyn Henley, illustrated by Dennas Davis (a good friend!), again and again and again and again. Now I'm reading the Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones, illustrated by Jago, to four-year-old Mira. Judah usually listens in, but his appetite for words has increased dramatically in the past four years, so I'm actually reading the Amplified Bible to him. It has completely captured his attention. At the end of a chapter, he says, "Go on." I love it.

After missing two consecutive days of scripture-reading this week, I realized that I probably need to slow down if I'm ever going to accomplish this goal. Which leads me to goals #2 and #3:

Goal #2 is to teach my children to read this year using Sing, Spell, Read, and Write. Both Judah and Miriam are on the same page developmentally when it comes to letter recognition and letter sounds. They're both beginning to sound out words--Judah a bit more than Miriam, but not much. I'm waiting for a workbook to come in the mail to really get them started, but we've had fun listening to the songs and looking at the chart with the letters and pictures. I love listening to them try to sound out words in the car. Miriam sounded out "jewel" yesterday: JL. :0)

Goal #3 is to work through the Math-U-See Primer with both Judah and Miriam. I'd really like to establish a basic foundation in math and get them both reading simple words before the end of the 2011-2012 school year.

We'll be reading a ton of books, as usual--biographies for history and nature books for science and continuing to look things up on maps and, of course, spending time outside playing in the woods and in the creek, which, by the way, is where Judah found his new pet: a toad by the name of Crossbones. I heard him referred to as Mr. Toad today, though. Judah feeds him cicadas and worms and keeps him in a big tub covered by a cotton sheet. He also takes him out daily for "morning exercises."

We're having fun "doing school," which, I've begun to realize, is as much about personal responsibility and freedom to be creative as it is learning to read and write and do arithmetic. For example, Judah and Miriam both wanted to play with play-dough this week. I kept telling them that we could open the play-dough when the playroom was picked up. I helped them pick up last night and they finished it this morning--including using the vacuum.

They played with play-dough the entire time I mowed the lawn. (Thankfully Nadia slept the entire afternoon!) When they were ready for an afternoon snack, they put the play-dough away and joined me in the living room. Then, it was back to the play-dough.

Before we left tonight to pick up our free Renaissance Fair tickets (yay, Daddy, for winning them!), they put away the play-dough, the puzzles they had been working on, and the blocks that were on the floor. On our way home, they asked if Daddy was going to fill in for them tomorrow as the "dishwasher emptying duo" since we're all heading to RenFest. I LOVE that they are anticipating their work and wondering how it's going to get done if they're not there to do it.

They love to tease me after putting things away. They'll say things like, "There are all sorts of worms and salamanders and port-o-potties and sewers and nasty stuff in the dishwasher. Come look!" Then, when I get there, the run away giggling. I chase after them and tickle them for tricking me. Tonight they said that elves had come and not only threw the puzzle pieces all over the living room, but they also destroyed the puzzles and there were splinters everywhere.

I just re-read "The Moore Formula" (summary below) as a reminder and an encouragement that I'm on the right track by not moving too fast or pushing too hard and allowing my children to think and wonder and create . . . they're still so little. I sometimes wish I could just put them on "pause" for a little while. They're growing up so fast.

THE FORMULA
1) Study from a few minutes to several hours a day, depending on the child's maturity.
2) Manual work at least as much as study.
3) Home and/or community service an hour or so a day. Focus on kids' interests and needs; be an example in consistency, curiosity, and patience. Live with them! Worry less about tests; we'll help you there. With the Moore Formula, if you are loving and can read, write, count, and speak clearly, you are a master teacher.

First, don't subject your children to formal, scheduled study before age 8 to 10 or 12, whether they can read or not. To any who differ, as their evidence let them read Better Late Than Early (BLTE) or School Can Wait (SCW). In addition to our basic research at Stanford and the University of Colorado Medical School, we analyzed over 8000 studies of children's senses, brain, cognition, socialization, etc., and are certain that no replicable evidence exists for rushing children into formal study at home or school before 8 or 10.

Read and sing and play with your children from birth. Read to them several times a day, and they will learn to read in their own time-as early as 3 or 4, but usually later, some as late as 14. Late readers are no more likely to be retarded or disabled than early ones. They often become the best readers of all-with undamaged vision and acute hearing, more adult-like reasoning (cognition) levels, mature brain structure and less blocking of creative interests. Yet late readers are often falsely thought to be in need of remedial help. If you have any doubts about your youngster, have specialists check vision and hearing; possibly see a neurologist. If there are no problems, relax. http://www.moorefoundation.com/article.php?id=5

Sweet Nadia Ruth--a year later

My baby is ONE. If I try to write more, I'll probably cry and never finish this post. Mostly I wanted to get a few pictures up of the little "sugar puddin'" or "sweetie baby" as she is often affectionately called. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that little girl--her sparkly eyes, her pink chubby cheeks, her little baby belly, and those perfectly delicious chubby thighs. I could squeeze that little bit o' squish all day. Right now she's dancing, which began with a musical toy Nana and Papa gave to her at Christmas. Before long, she'll be walking. She's already a professional stair-climber. She can even climb down a few.

For her first birthday, we took her to Dragon Park and then to her mama's favorite dessert spot: Hot&Cold. She shared a honeydew "Las Paletas" popsicle with Daddy. The pictures are of her first and last bites. As you can see from the picture below, she was ready to get on with the rest of her birthday adventure. Oh, sweet Nadia Ruth Todd, I'm so glad you're here.

Judah, this almost 7 year old boy of mine

It's late, but I feel like I need to write. That boy of mine keeps saying stuff that needs to be written down. Those little girls of mine made me laugh tonight with their cute dancing. Miriam put on a CD and Nadia bounced to it while Miriam showed me her new dances. Precious.
THE EGG AWARD
Judah accidentally broke a little award he received last year for his egg decorating skills. When he remembered what the award was for, he admitted that the egg wasn't really award-worthy. Each year the Mulvihills host an egg-decorating contest and I suggested that this year he bring some of his wax with which he makes wax weapons and costumes for his bears and use that to decorate his egg. That would most definitely be award-worthy. "Are you sure, Mom? Do you really think I'll win an award? Do you swear on your honor as a mother?"
BIG AND POWERFUL, MEET SMALL AND FEARFUL
Earlier today some friends came over and when I told Judah who was coming, he said, "Aw, Mom, I don't want him to come over."

"Why not?" I asked.

"He's bossy . . . and he always says, 'I'm older than you,' . . . and he threatens . . . "

"What do you mean, 'He threatens'?" I asked.

"He says things like, 'If you don't do this, then I'll do this. He threatens to take or break my best toys or to hurt me . . . " Judah continued.

"What if you said something like, 'Do you want me to get our moms involved?" I suggested.

"I've tried that. He says, 'Go ahead and tell. I'll just lie,'" said Judah.

"Hmmmm. Well, what do you think the consequences would be if he really did those things?" I wondered aloud.

"Not much! He's a kid! What could they do to him that would possibly be worse than what he could do to me?" Judah had me there.

I asked if he wanted to talk to his friend's mom or if he wanted me to talk to her, and he said yes, he wanted me to do the talking. He didn't want me to send her a text message before they arrived. He wanted me to talk to her in person. So I did. She handled it gracefully, had him apologize to Judah and to me, and afterward Judah seemed like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. I happened to mention wrestling, which gave Judah the idea to tackle his friend (who happens to be only a year older but more than twice his size), so he did. And life went on.

The main reason I'm journaling this is because of his last comment ("what could they do to him?"), which gave me a window into his thoughts and made me laugh a little. I remember that feeling. I'm also thankful for the way my friend handled the situation. In a matter of minutes, the boys were back to wrestling and playing and running around the yard together. It very easily could have been my kid who did the "bossing and threatening." In fact, these are very often Miriam's complaints. Sigh. There's nothing like having someone who's older and bigger and more powerful to remind you how small and how weak you are. I'm really proud of Judah for articulating his feelings and letting us help. The relationship was restored, and that is a beautiful thing.

Practice Child #1

Keep in mind that Judah is, for me, practice child number one.

I don't pretend to have this parenting thing figured out. I'm also "officially" home-schooling this year. That doesn't mean I necessarily know what I'm doing. To be honest, I'm trying to do very little. Yes, trying, as in "intentionally not doing a whole lot."

Sure, by the standards of the average American household, we do a lot. We read tons of books, we frequent the library storytimes and we watch plays and get out in nature and we look for ways to volunteer our time and resources, we paint, we draw, we color, we sculpt, we act, we create.

But I don't use flash cards. And I don't own any "Teach your child to read" books. And I don't have the alphabet pasted to my wall. And I don't have any DVD's about the ABC's.

Basically, I'm attempting what might be called "the natural method" and I've recently discovered that I'm probably considered an "unschooler." I've read a few books by Dr. Raymond Moore, a developmental psychologist and educator who advocates waiting to teach children to read until they're at least EIGHT years old. I know. It sounded preposterous to me at first, too.

However . . .

Judah is a little more than six and a half. Prior to this year, he has had ZERO interest in learning how to read. Well, I say zero, I mean, almost zero. He couldn't remember the names or sounds of letters from one minute to the next. Fortunately, I had already attended a Carole Joy Seid workshop and wasn't freaked out. She introduced me to Dr. Raymond Moore. I'm pretty sure God knew what an over-achiever I am and He wanted me to take it easy on my son. So here we are.

Tonight, while I was making hummus in the kitchen, Judah was shouting from the other room, "Mom! I know how to spell flower!" And then he would take a pretty good gander at the spelling, I'd tell him how close he was and how brilliant he is, and he would keep guessing until he got it. Later, when we was trying to spell "tomato" (te-ma-to), he said he was writing down the letters, but that wasn't "cheating." He wanted to be able to read the letters back to me without having to keep them in his mind each time. I told him that of course that's not cheating--that's good thinking.

A friend who home-schooled her children through high school had told me once--years ago--that teaching your child to read is a lot like potty-training. Just wait until he's ready and then it's pretty simple. With Judah, I spent months attempting to potty-train him, but with Miriam, I just waited until she was ready, and in a couple weeks, she was fully potty-trained. Carole Joy Seid said you can take years teaching your child to read (like robots) or wait for readiness and watch them bloom in a few months or even weeks.

On the way to visit my parents in KY on Thanksgiving, Judah sounded out the word "brand" in the car. When Miriam asked what "brand" meant, he said, "It means a specific type of thing. Like this is a specific 'brand' of chocolate." Ah, the beauty of teaching a child to read who already grasps the meaning of the words he is sounding out.

I read an article recently about how both sides of the brain have to work together to decode symbols for reading. One side tackles the symbols and the sounds and the other attaches meaning. That's why it's possible to read entire passages and not have a clue what you've just read. One side of your brain was asleep or distracted.

I'm pretty excited about Judah's attempts to sound out words and write letters and basically teach himself to read. For example, we picked up a book from the library last week, and he came home, sat down on the couch, and sounded out the title again and again and again. He was studying the letters. He was literally teaching himself to read.

He wants to read so badly he can taste it. But I know that what he figures out on his own he will carry with him for a lifetime. What I try to spoon-feed him will either be spit out or quickly forgotten.

I'm here. I'm ready to answer questions. I'll read every day and check out audio books so he can listen to books even when I'm not available. The day will come when he will be reading to me and to his younger sisters. I think that day is not far from now. I'm eager to write down the name of Judah's first read-aloud book.

But for now it's time for bed. So says the husband.

This Boy of Mine

Oh, where do I begin?

If my husband were writing this, he'd probably begin with last night's events since he was there. Apparently, when he went to pick up Judah from his class at The Anchor, one of the girls in Judah's class was crying because of Judah's retaliating drawing and remark. James brought it up this morning because he wanted me to somehow communicate with Judah about the situation.

Judah said that Sophia drew a picture of a girl pushing down boys, so he drew a picture of himself pushing down Sophia--and then he told her about it--which, of course, made her cry. Even after his teacher talked to him about it, he still didn't understand why what he did "wasn't appropriate" (his words). So I turned it around:

"What if you had drawn a picture of boys pushing down girls and then Sophia drew a picture of herself pushing you down? How would you feel?"

"Sad."

"That's why it's not appropriate. If you do something to someone else that would make you feel bad if they did it to you, then it's not appropriate. We treat people the way we want to be treated--not the way they treat us. How did Sophia respond to your drawing?"

"She didn't see it."

"How did she know about it?"

"I told her."

"And how did she respond?"

"I don't know."

"Did she laugh?"

"No."

"Did she smile?"

"No."

"Did she cry?"

"A little."

"So how do you think she felt?"

"Sad."

"Oh. So her response to your drawing was crying because it made her sad. How would you feel about writing her a letter?"

"Good . . . Where's the paper?"

I found an empty card and a pen and thought I was going to write it for him, but he sat down with it and asked me how to spell the following:

I AM SORRY FOR DRAWING A PICTURE OF PUNCHING YOU. JUDAH. I (heart symbol) SOPHIA. FROM JUDAH.

Then, as Daddy's suggested, he drew a picture of himself with Sophia fighting a monster together with swords to show that they're on the same team.

I'm not sure why this impacted me to the degree that I wanted to take the time to sit down and write it out, except that Judah hasn't been interested in writing until now, and it really surprised me that he wanted to write the card himself. A few weeks ago he wrote out a poem that he memorized, but he did it on the dry erase board and instead of James telling him each letter, he wrote it on the board and Judah copied it. This is the first time he has written this much on his own.

I also feel like he processed the situation well. I could tell that at first he was defensive, but by the time we got to writing the letter, his heart had softened and he was truly sorry for what he did. His face gives him away every time--he's so expressive.

This weekend, I think I apologized at least twice a day for my short temper. I rarely feel as if I do things "right," but I feel like we handled this one pretty well, and I wanted a reminder.

A huge thanks to the writings of Dr. Raymond Moore (School Can Wait and Homestyle Teaching books) and the teachings of Danny Silk (Loving Our Kids on Purpose CDs)--you have both saved me a ton of stress and grief.

I found my camera!

Nadia at six months, my sweet, happy, delicious baby. I often wish I could put her on "pause."

Nadia Ruth Todd, the sweetest baby on the planet

"Is she always this good?" I hear this just about every time we're out. "Yes. Always."

She is the PERFECT baby. And the main reason I rarely blog anymore.

She's six months old now, but these are five-month pics because I can't find my camera. It's here somewhere . . .

Conversations with Judah and Mira--Oct 2010

A couple days ago, my husband sent me an e-mail telling me he missed my blog. So tonight he's at a Bible study, the kids are all in bed asleep, the floors are swept, the toilet's cleaned, the laundry's mostly done, the dishes are soaking . . . and I'm in a constant state of writing in my head. I rarely find a moment during the day that I'm able to carry on a coherent conversation or write a meaningful e-mail, much less a blog post. So much mental energy must be exerted for such things. I've been giving all of mine to three little people who have been giving me excellent writing material.

Conversations with Judah and Mira . . .

Yesterday we went to Cheekwood with a group of homeschool families. When we got back, James asked me if I enjoyed my day. I said, "Yes. I got to be with some of my favorite people doing some of my favorite things--outside." And Miriam added, "Without your mom telling you what to do . . . or what not to do." (I really wish you could hear her little 3-year-old voice.)

The night before, James was working late so I let Judah climb in bed with me and snuggle after we did our bedtime routine. (Miriam fell asleep early and Nadia was already in bed.) He said, "Mom, remember in the olden days when we used to snuggle?"

I asked, "When you were two?"

"Yeah."

"Come here, you. Let me snuggle you."

As we snuggled, I said something about letting me snuggle him until he was married. He said, "I'm never going to marry." Then, in his "I'm teasing you" voice, he continued, "Why would I want a troublesome old woman hanging about me all the days of my life . . . bossing me around . . . and telling me to go to work every day. All we'd have to eat is one dry little bean. And we'd have a son named Jack and he would climb a beanstalk and . . . " we just laughed and laughed and laughed. After our little giggle-fest, I prayed for him and our friends until he fell asleep. I love that boy.

This afternoon, I heard both Miriam and Judah outside crying. When I went to find out what happened, I discovered that Judah was "leaving to live the Indian life of adventure" and they were saying their tearful goodbyes.

Judah was wearing nothing but a leather belt and a blue towel loincloth with a handmade bow and arrow strung across his back. Miriam had a sparkle sash around her head, a braid in her hair, and a purple shawl tied around her waist. That's it. No shirt. No panties. Very authentic.

Miriam was in tears, saying that Judah was going to leave--"for real--in real life." He looked at me with a tear just beginning to stream down his face, said goodbye, and started walking down the road (imagine his little naked body with a bow strung over his shoulder and a leather belt about his waist). I tried to comfort Miriam, but I couldn't stop laughing! He made his way around the perimeter of the yard. They reunited and played on the side of the house that doesn't face the street (according to my recommendation). I think we might need to move out to the country pretty soon.

"We love each uh-thuh, right Judah?" ~ Mira

Nadia laughed yesterday.

I feel like I could end this post right there. She laughed once in her sleep last week and I thought she laughed a few days ago, but now I know that I know that she laughed--the sweetest little belly laugh from precious Nadia Ruth. I'm smitten.

Right before Nadia laughed, Miriam, who was glistening with sweat, caught a glimpse of her reflection in the sideview mirror of the van and said, "Mommy! My face is all sparkly! Look!"

Just before the girls stole my heart, we were all eating lunch together when I asked Miriam if she would like to be in a fashion show. Judah said he thought she would be too shy to be in a show like that, but I assured them both that I would hold Miriam's hand so she could walk across the stage with confidence. Judah said, "Miriam! I'll bet you're going to be the most beautiful girl there!" And he means it.

My children deeply love each other.

I try not to sow any seeds of jealousy. I'm careful to say things like, "I need to put your baby sister down for a nap, but I'll be right back" instead of "I'm busy with the baby." I really want them have a sense of ownership--she's THEIR baby as much as she is mine.

Miriam loves to get diapers for me and throw away the dirty ones. Judah loves to hold his sister just about any time I ask. Miriam and Judah both love to make Nadia smile--and now laugh.

Don't get me wrong--my kids fight. They even fight over imaginary things! But they love each other a LOT. Miriam cheers Judah on as he climbs everything in sight. Judah encourages Miriam to try new things and tells her what a great job she's doing. Recently, when I told the kids I thought Nadia was getting ready for some teeth (since she's soaking all her clothes with baby drool), Judah said, "NADIA! Congratulations!"

I love it.

Sometimes they completely wear me out, but I have to admit that I have really great kids who love each other deeply, and for that, I am grateful.

Introducing...

Nadia Ruth Todd
She is one week old today. Born April 7, 2010, at 12:56 pm, via c-section after our final attempt to get her to turn. She weighed 7 lbs 11 oz and measured 20 in long. Her big brother Judah, 6, and her big sister Miriam, 3, couldn't wait to meet her. We're all delighted she's here.

Sibling Love on a Sunday Morning

This morning Judah literally hit the ground running. When he woke up, he didn't walk to the bathroom, he ran. Then he ran back to his room to find clothes. Then he ran down the hallway into my room to ask if he had any cozy pants clean. Then he ran to the laundry room to find some. Then he ran back into his room to find a shirt. Miriam woke up and asked him to stay in the room, so he said, "I can stay until it's time to go listen to my audio book." He crawled into bed with her and they started singing, "I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck." I love when mornings begin with sibling cuddles and songs and giggles.

"You MUST play music for Miriam"

Judah recently asked me if he could listen to a Bible audiobook. I thought tonight might be a good time to try having them go to sleep while listening to the Bible being read aloud. However, I loaned my Bible on CD to a friend recently, and I can't seem to find the few CD's that weren't in the case. They're in the house--somewhere.

In my search for the stray CDs, I found Alberto and Kimberly Rivera's Peace CD and offered that instead. Judah was NOT interested, but Miriam really, really wanted to listen to it. Fortunately for Miriam, Judah fell asleep before I went downstairs to get the CD player. I put in the CD for Mira, and she said, "I wish I should dance to this song, but I can't."

I kissed her on the forehead and said, "You're right. You need to go to bed. I love you." That little girl LOVES to dance to music.

As I headed down the stairs, I was reminded again of a time when Miriam was just a few months old and the kids and I were visiting friends in Virginia. I read to Judah from his Children's Bible (illustrated by our friend Dennas Davis) about Samuel. I told him that Samuel heard from God when he was just a little boy and that Judah could hear from God, too. We prayed, and right after that, Judah said, "You must play music for Miriam." Wow. At three years old, Judah wasn't using the word "must," so I logged this one in my mind for future reference.

Now Miriam is three, and every time she hears music, she dances. I took the kids to a CD release party on Thursday, and Miriam danced to every song. Judah wasn't too thrilled with the music and wanted to leave. If someone had been reading aloud, he would have been in heaven. He fell asleep sitting up in his chair and holding my hand.

I'm fascinated by how much Miriam loves music and Judah loves the spoken word. Occasionally, Judah will join in and dance with us, but for the most part, he'd rather sit and listen to audio books while Miriam and I head upstairs and dance to music. Recently, I've been listening to some "Seeds" CDs, which are truly EXCELLENT scripture songs that are so well done that it's a pleasure to listen to them (unlike a lot of children's CDs which can grate on my nerves).

Carole Joy Seid, the speaker at the homeschool workshop I attended recently, highly recommended them and had some for sale at her seminar. Mary Keith Skinner was sitting right in front of me, and she couldn't say enough good things about them. Her husband Anthony is one of our favorite musicians and has extremely discerning taste in music, and he listens to them even when the kids aren't around. Now that I've listened to the "Seeds of Praise" and "Seeds of Purpose" CDs, I can understand why.

Check them out here: Seeds Family Worship.net. You can listen to some of the songs HERE. If you like what you hear, buy a couple CDs HERE. Each package comes with two identical CDs, so if you and a friend buy different CDs, you could give each other the extra copies and get two for the price of one. That's what Patti Smith and I did at the conference and I'm so glad we did!

Judah, the author.

My soon-to-be six-year-old, theatrical, pirate-centric, budding-writer son wrote this "book" for me Monday night after writing one for Christy. He took a brown paper sack, cut it into strips for pages, and then dictated the stories to me and to Daddy. Christy's is held together with clear duct tape and mine has a safety pin at the top. On mine, each page has a small illustration of a stick pirate or ship or both. I just noticed that the themes are very similar. Here we go!

TREASURE ISLAND by Judah Rees Todd, 2/22/10, age 5

Once up on a time, there was a pirate. His ship got destroyed by evil villains. They threw him overboard and while he was crying out for help, he went under the water altogether.

Then, as I said, the evil villains sailed away with his ship. The evil villains came upon an enchanted island. On that island there was a pile of rocks with a ring inside it. The evil villains tied their ship to the ring in the rocks.

In that pile of rocks, there was a treasure box. Then, the evil villains took the treasure box and buried it. The whole world fell to pieces and left the evil villains dead in the ruins.

The End.

***************************

This is the book for Christy. This is a book about pirates. this book is about to start.

[NOTE: he had me write that little intro on the first page and some concluding remarks on the last page.]

PIRATES DISCOVERY by Judah Rees Todd, 2/22/10, age 5

Once upon a time there lived a pirate, and he stole gold from every ship that he could set eye on. But one day he found a pile of rocks and in those rocks, a humongous treasure box. He took the treasure box on his ship, but the treasure box was too heavy, and his ship sank. And he had to swim to shore.

All his crew met him on an island. On that island, Captain Kidd's treasure was buried. They started to dig. Then, they saw the gleam of a box. And then they saw the water. The whole island fell to pieces. The pirates had a narrow escape.

They swam in the sea until they came up on a mysterious island. Then they realized--it was enchanted!

Then, a great sea serpent rose out of the sea. He was about to break the ship in two. The pirate captain clicked his fingers and called to his crew, and all the crew got their weapons in hand and cut the sea serpent to bits.

Christy, this book ends. But we would love to make you more books. The End.