Tag Archives: reading

Be Finishing our Summer Reading 

  Nine months ago.

Seven books. 

Aslan, the lion portraying Jesus. 

Stories interwoven. 

Cupboards opened.  

Magical conversations with my eight year old day after day.  

Short times of reading over time to completing seven wonderful books. 

With gratitude to CS Lewis for sharing his gifts.   

Writing takes discipline, like anything that produces fruit in our lives.  

Now off to work on my summer body and ponder our next series! 

Be Finding You Summer Reading Material

Most people may find this difficult to comprehend, but no I have never read C.S. Lewis’s box set “The Chronicles of Narnia”.

Some people may be gasping out loud.

I just have never wanted to read it.

Until now.

Now, I have an eight year old in the house with a very vivid imagination.

Tonight, we finished the first book in the series.

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One down, four to go.

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe is up next!

What is on your summer reading list?

Be Reading at School

Last week was Family Literacy Day and our school celebrated by inviting families to come read in their children’s classroom.

We love reading with our children every day and I especially loved reading in my boys’ classrooms.

We were asked to bring our favourite books from home.

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2015/02/img_8149.jpgOur neighbours and CC’s kindergarten classmate brought the same book from home.

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I love coincidences.

I love these neighbours.

I love reading!

Be Proud

Today my heart swells with pride as I see how my community encourages children.

I am proud of my children’s efforts, genuine inspiration and creativity.

My heart overflows abundantly with gratitude.

For opportunity.

Effort.

Ability to read.

Having free libraries.

And really cool things for kids.

My boys, following my newly acquired love, have started watercolour painting. They have each entered a painting into an Exhibition. 20140801-225315-82395870.jpg

20140801-225333-82413052.jpgThey are very excited to take their grandparents.

On the same day, we walked across the street to our Public Library to hand in our finished reading logs. The boys got a medal and a free book. They were overjoyed.

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Day by day.

Painting.

Reading.

Together.

With a goal in mind.

Or just because.

Coming from within.

To share with the outside world.

Beautiful painting.

Wonderful words.

Treasured boys.

What a gift they are!

What a wonderful community we live in.

Be Saying ‘The Long Goodbye’

Grief is like one very long goodbye. My willingness to say goodbye is what is going to propel me forward.

Right now, I am a very sensitive being. I am very conscious of who I engage with and who gets a superficial ‘hello’. My senses are on high alert as I continue to grieve mom’s suffering in the hospital and as I grieve the loss of my mom each day. I can sense when someone is ‘on the same page’ as I am. I feel a harmony that exists on a spiritual/emotional level.

One friend that has met me exactly where I am at, recommended this amazing book. It is a memoir of a daughter losing her mother to colon cancer. It is real, kind, cruel, beautiful, pure grief and completely harmonious with where I am at.

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There were two things that struck me:

First, the ideas about other cultures having rituals around grief that we in the Western world don’t have. I wish I could wear black to symbolize my grief or at least make a sign like you hang on your store when you are having lunch that says: “On a grief break. Back in about ____ months. Fill in the blank. Your guess is as good as mine!” Every time I step out of my home, it is an effort. Every relationship I have is conscious and with people I feel God has placed in my life and are healthy for where I am at.

Broken.

Wounded.

Hurting.

Beautifully fragile.

A flower awaiting the sun.

Holding still.

Being.

The second idea that stuck with me from this book of great wisdom for me is this quote that comes from chapter fifteen. The author is speaking about a woman she had met. Here is the quote:

On December 30, I went to a party at my friend Stephanie’s, a reunion of friends. Maureen, a woman I’ve met earlier this year, took my hand and said,” I have been thinking about you, how are you?” She seems always to be seen what she believes, or finding a way to see what she believes, and so I told her about the ashes, about the difficulty of the anniversary., And idly mentioned the quarrel I’d had with a friend.

Maureen said, “these are the 18 months when you find out who can really go there and who can’t. This is a vulgar way of putting it, and there are many wonderful things about our culture, but I’m sorry, it is a phobic culture. People do not want to confront the existential mess that is life. They want to check things off – okay, you’re okay. I just because you can talk about your grief, you know,” she said, looking sharply at me, ” doesn’t mean you are in control of it, or that you know what’s going on. You’re in the ocean. And what you think, what you analyze, that is just descanting of that ocean. Your mind is an ocean and it has scary things in it. While you may be able to analyze your grief at 3 PM, that has nothing to do with how you feel at 3 AM, in the dark center of night. “

Oceans.

Nighttime.

Talk.

Feelings.

Out of control.

Understanding.

Living.

The Long Goodbye.

Be Reading a Book

I am a voracious reader. Well, I used to be anyways. On average, before mom got sick, I would be reading four books at any one time. Usually one bible study, one non-fiction and two fiction books would be stacked on my beside table.

Last week at mom and dad’s house, I looked on mom’s book shelf beside her bed. On the top of the pile, I found this book I gave her in November which was one of the last books she read.

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I picked the book because of it’s title and wintery scene. I didn’t even read the back.

I remember asking mom about it after she read it in two days flat. She said it was a good light read and that I should read it.

Today, I looked at the book summary. It’s about ‘three people at the crossroads of heartbreak and healing’. One of the characters lost her mom and no longer believes in anything. She believes her mom now speaks to her through heart-shaped rocks.

I may have to start reading again.

P.S. Sexy Neck just walked in the room and saw the book on my lap and asked, “Are you reading again?”

Me, I am still at maybe… Not sure my brain can handle it.

Be Thinking/Reading in French

We are one year and two months into our first child in school.
We decided to put him into French Immersion due to our life before children living in Europe, class compositions in French Immersion and the brain/future benefit of learning another language. The only language that is offered is French, otherwise we may have preferred Spanish or perhaps even German.

As parents, we question many of our decisions that we have made for our boys. Today, we were given a small pat on the back that for our oldest French Immersion is the right track for him.

Today, we were in the car.
JC yelled out, “Seven cars. There were seven cars lined up at the light!”
I had a light bulb moment and asked, “Did you count that in your head in French or English?”
JC responded, “French of course Mama!”
My first thought was: thanks for translating to English for me and then I was surprised he was counting in French.

Here’s our Grade Oner reading his home reading tonight:
JC reading in French

Be Buying Your Teacher Shoes?

Sunday afternoon, JC and I went to do a few errands for Nana and Papa here in the big city.

I find these one-on-one times with the boys are incredibly insightful and lead me down paths that sometimes I don’t understand.

Here is our story from Sunday:

JC and I were walking through a store looking at the Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations. We were talking about thanksgiving, then being thankful, next was school then we moved on to his teacher. We finished the conversation by trying to think of some way we could show his teacher we are thankful.

JC emphatically answered, “Shoes! Mom, we need to get her some shoes!”

In my mind I started rolling through the options – does she talk a lot about shoes, does she wear different shoes everyday (my high school VP wore a different tie every day), does she wear ‘funny’ shoes or ? I was confused.

He insisted we buy his teacher shoes, but we started talking about how much we wanted to spend or was there something we could do instead. We settled on a sweet treat and a note where I told his teacher the story of the shoes.

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I just received an email from his teacher and here was her response:

I may know why Jackson wanted to buy me shoes!! I have several single shoes at school for an up-coming lesson on selecting ‘good fit’ books. The idea of the lesson is that choosing a book is like choosing shoes to buy: they need to be the right size AND they need to fit your purpose. For example, you wouldn’t wear heels to go hiking. This is just like not choosing a story book about frogs if you want to learn about frogs. All this to say that I have many single shoes at school, and I have not yet explained why. Might he have thought that my shoes don’t have mates? Or is he insinuating that my gym runners are out of style!?!

This is hilarious! My poor organized , empathetic first born noticed all these single shoes and wanted to correct the ‘problem’ for his teacher.

Hahahaha. This made my whole month. I love creative teachers.

Be A Reader (My 100th post!)

I am sitting by my computer gob-smacked realizing that this is my 100th post – how is that possible?

I guess my dad was right when I used to cry and moan about Math homework.  His response was often, “Just do 10 minutes per day and it will get easier!”.

Since starting this blog, I think about what I want to share with my boys as they get older, sometimes, I even think of my grandchildren.  I pray that this would be a living document for them to laugh at and maybe even ponder when they are older.

Every time I write, I think about YOU, the people who may read the post.  I am careful with my words, not being to extreme, but being honest and real in my daily life with three wee lads. (I can be a tad extreme, just ask Sexy Neck!)

Today, as I sit my six-foot frame at the keyboard, I want to write about reading.  What a gift reading is to give to our children!

Last night, I was putting baby OC to bed.  Usually, I come out from the boys’ room to screaming, running, wrestling, chasing – it is that time of day.   This is what I came out to last night:

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Without a television in our “Playhouse“, books are our go-to activity.    None of my boys are able to read out loud yet, but the reading skills are so evident: looking at books, pretending to read, retelling the story by looking at the pictures, trying to guess the words.

I am looking forward to when they can read me a book and I can fall asleep.  Much better than me falling asleep mid-book!  Yes, this parenting of boys is sometimes very tiring!