life of seven

Sweet Memories

This was the craziest 24 hours, I must say, with a visit to the doctor, who prescribed two more rounds of antibiotics for the little kids, then a puppy this morning with an allergic reaction who needed an emergency vet visit, squeezed in before piano lessons. Neither the time or the money for the vet or doctor were budgeted for (and what's with the $73 antibiotics??? Sheesh!), but I've said I was going to blog every day this week, so blog I will.

This was taken at our church's Christmas program, and the sweet photos remind me of the sweet moments you see here: Grace and Gideon playing together on the keyboard, while Grace sang "Mary Did You Know." Our church never has a shortage of babies, thankfully and little Henry, at three weeks old, made for a perfect baby Jesus for Evie to hold. The second picture you see is Cate, accompanying my dad on the piano while he sang, "Gesu Bambino." This really brought tears to my eyes, since for as many years as I can remember, my older sister has accompanied my dad on the piano while he sang. I truly hope she didn't mind passing the torch to her niece for the night. Gesu Bambino has got to be the loveliest Christmas song, as well as one of the loveliest melodies ever written. And I am so glad I have this lovely photo to remember the moment.

On my daughter's fourteenth birthday...

Oh, dear, I really must do an end of the year wrap up on here. We're almost to 2016 and I've been missing quite a few days of blogging. I'm going to make it my goal to blog every day this week. Let's see how that goes. I do so much better when I incorporate it into a daily thing, and don't let myself skip any days. Otherwise, one day after another seems to slip by with no blog post!

On Deceember 20th, my lovely, graceful, gracious Grace (such a fitting name we gave her all those years ago!) turned fourteen. She was such a tiny thing when she was born. Though 18 days late, she weighed only 6 pounds, 2 ounces. Now she is threatening to grow taller than both Cate or I. While not taller than I am yet, she has such long limbs that when she and I raise our hands, her fingertips reach a good four or five inches higher than mine. Her long fingers, that I noticed the very day she was born, work wonders on the piano. The other thing I noticed immediately when admiring her for the very first time was the sweet little dimple in her chin. Perhaps it's not as noticeable in this picture, though the one below shows it better. The other thing I noticed was the way her hair grew. She didn't have much of it, but I could see the way it was growing in that there was a little cowlick where her hair grew on her forehead, off to the side. I thought it was just adorable. A little girl I baby sat years ago, also a second child, had a cowlick just the same on her forehead. I loved how it looked. As Grace got older, her little bit of baby fuzz began to come out and she was very close to bald. I wasn't able to see the cowlick for a while, and I wondered if it would grow in the way I had remembered it on the day of her birth. Little by little her hair grew in, but was hard to see much of for a couple of years. It looked like she had even less than she did because it grew in...blond!

I always wanted to marry a dark haired man. I've always preferred it, and I imagined I would have dark haired children as well. When I met Ben, the first thing I noticed was his gorgeous, thick, slightly wavy dark hair. Since I have dark brown hair, I assumed all our children would look Ben's Italian side, with olive skin and dark hair. Oddly enough, Grace got blond hair, probably from somewhere on my Swedish side (though my two sisters and I all have dark brown hair), but olive skin like Ben. In the summer, she tans in a minute, like her dad, but (especially when she was younger) her blond hair just gets lighter.

Well, of course you must know that there is much more to Grace than what she looks like! She brings joy and laughter to everyone around her. When she was younger she would always want to make a copy of any toy or gadget that she liked, with whatever materials she could find around the house. She drew elaborate laptops out of folded pieces of paper. She laid a board on the handlebars of a trike to turn it into a seesaw. She attached rope from a tree and tied a stick to the end to make a swing. She'd draw lines on paper and attempt to write her own music. Even when she'd get a new toy for Christmas, she'd immediately try to make her own version of the toy herself. I'd always find these little "Grace inventions" all around the house and marvel at their cleverness. It should be no surprise that Grace was the one who was so eager to try to turn the disgusting, musty, filthy little attic room above the garage into her own little house. In the same way, I suppose, it's Grace who loves using the old fashioned, quaint typewriter to do her journalling each day, rather than the far more convenient computer keyboard. She's the first to discover that you can get a huge amount of laughs out of the baby when you sit her on a suitcase with wheels and pull her around the room. When Grace is practicing piano, it isn't uncommon for her to have one foot on a riding toy with one of the little ones on it, pushing it back and forth rhythmically. "What in the world are you doing, Grace??" "Oh, this helps me concentrate, Mom, and Clemmie just loves it." In this same vein of creativity, she comes up with delightfully colorful language, in both writing and talking. "I love Christmas," she told me years ago. "It makes me feel so full of sparkles!"

But she does have a more serious side, too. She is an extremely hard worker who will come up with a goal for herself and work at and stick to it until she meets the goal. She wanted to beat Cate, the who is the well known reader of the family, at reading through the Mistborn series (around 2000 pages). Cate astonished me by reading through the books in two weeks, and then Grace astonished me further by doing the same. Grace longed to learn to alter bridal dresses at the same time Cate did, and did not like being told she should wait until she was a couple of years older. Each day that Cate apprenticed, Grace came along too, and side by side they sewed together. And she learned to hem, and take in seams, and put in bustles, and reattach lace and sequins, just as well as Cate did. Lately, Grace has taken it upon herself to train her new German Shepherd (more about Britta later) to be the perfect companion. Over the past six months, before she got Britta, she began studying and reading and watching videos about dog training in earnest. In the back of my mind I knew puppy training school would always be an option, because I cannot stand having a dog around who isn't trained. However, from the moment Grace got Britta, and every single day thereafter, I have been extremely impressed about the time energy and work Grace has put into her puppy, who is now housebroken, being well socialized, and extremely attentive and obedient. I honestly did not think Grace would be able to do a good job of it, but she has far exceeded my expectations, without a complaint. Watching Grace, I know I would not have the patience to train a dog as thoroughly as Grace has been doing.

The patience Grace has with her puppy is an outflow of her overall patience and love she has for little children. When Evie was a newborn, I would sit her on my lap for a moment, and then look down and think, Wait, where did the baby go? I'd get up and without fail, I'd discover her on Grace's shoulder. Grace just couldn't stand to walk past and not pick the new baby up. I'll always remember waking up the morning of the day after Jude was born. It was around five and he began to make adorable little newborn cries. I was certain no one heard him since it was so early, but then I heard a little knock at the door. It was Grace and the baby cry woke her up and reminded her of her brand new brother and she squealed as she entered our room and went straight to Jude. When we go to church often one of the three year olds will come up to me and ask where Grace is. They see her as their buddy, not realizing (yet) how kind it is of Grace to play with them at their level. I have memories of much older cousins playing with me and my sisters for hours, and one day my mom told me how nice they were being to play with us. I hadn't realized it before then, but looking back, I now see how kind they were. I know there are many little ones who know Grace who will grow up having similar memories about her. 

As you can probably tell by now, having read this far, Grace brings joy and sparkle to us whenever she is around. It can be so hard to try to describe a person, and I'm sure I've done a very poor job of capturing Grace, but as her mother, writing a post about her birthday, I wanted to try. I just adore her, and hope she always knows it. When Grace was very tiny, while going through a discouraging time in my life, I felt God speak to me and tell me that He'd given me her to bless me. That has certainly has proven to be true, every. single. day.

Birthday knitting progress

By no small miracle, it seems I will have this sweater finished for Grace in time for her birthday on the 20th. It's the same pattern I've made many, many times. Here it is on ravelry in Clementine's size (she's almost outgrown it!), here it is on Evie (she lost it just a few days later!) and this is actually the third time I've made it for Grace. The first one she wore to literal, unrepairable shreds. The second she outgrew, wore holes in (though just about my favorite yarn, Tosh merino light isn't incredibly strong), and, the nail in the coffin, accidentally lost in Paris.

This time, I am knitting the sweater in an adult size, since my very soon to be 14 year old is just about as tall as me. I fear I may end up being the shortest member of our family when everyone reaches their full height. I am only 5' 2" on a very good day, while Ben is over six feet. Cate and I are very close to the same height right now, so it's possible she won't pass me up. We'll see about Grace, who has grown quite a few inches in the past year. Now that I have two adult sized daughters, knitting sweaters for them takes much much longer. And, why would I knit them a sweater when I can just knit me one, right? Haha, and you think I'm only joking...though Grace has seen me knit this, and knows it is for her, the surprise will be that I get it done in time for her birthday. I'm notorious for leaving half knitted items lying around for weeks or months with no further work done to them, and I know Grace has been a little concerned about this, but as I said, by no small miracle, this sweater looks like it will be done in time. Honestly, the remainder of the body seemed to knit much faster than the rate it had gone previously. Now all I have left are two quarter length sleeves. And I know I'm going to just love this design in a semi sold black. Just stunning. 

Well off I go to monitor school progress while keeping my trusty knitting by my side...

Teaching a child to knit

The scarf you see there is now twice as long, and it's a second Spring Fever. One of the funnest patterns I've ever knit, and so perfect for my life right now, since I don't have to think about it much, and yet the bright colors still make it engaging. Think it'll be done by Christmas? Well, not if I also try to finish a sweater and make another three or four hats...

Speaking of knitting, my sweet little Evie is always begging me to teach her how. I don't know about other moms, but I've had some issues with teaching my kids to knit in the past. It hasn't really been a fun experience for me. A project gets started, they need help with needles falling out, or mistakes made, stitches dropped, and I know it sounds selfish, but I would sort of inwardly groan when they wanted to start a project because it meant that I would be doing the majority of the knitting involved. Now that Cate and Grace are older they know how to knit but it's not something they enjoy doing, though they do like to cross stitch, they do a bit of sewing, and are have been trained to completely alter a formal dress, bridal or otherwise. But that's a different story. 

Evie, now, I've felt guilty about for some time because she loves making things but I haven't spent enough time teaching her how for her to be able to do much of any of it on her own. My half hearted attempts at showing her how to knit have ended up at just that: needles slipping, yarn tangled, frustration for both of us. 

A few days ago, however, it dawned on me: The Waldorf schools incorporate knitting into their curriculum, and they all learn to do it. How? Well, don't start with circular, slippery Addis, for one thing. Don't use yarn that's so thin that it inhibits a sense of progress. Just start at the very beginning, and make it easy for her, for me. And knit with wool. Well, I already knew that part, of course!

I have almost no straight needles at home, and not much thick yarn. However, we rounded up a skein of thick, single ply wool yarn that was hand dyed in pink, yellow and orange- what a coincidence: Waldorf classroom colors! I couldn't remember where that yarn had even come from, but Evie reminded me: gifted to her last Christmas by my sister, who had dyed it just for Evie. Oops...

I took two thick double pointed needles and put rubber bands on the ends to turn them into a mini set of straight needles, which actually made them even easier to maneuver than regular length straights. Then, I even looked up the little rhyme Waldorf Schools use to teach the knitting motions to kids:

In through the front door

Around the back

Out through the window

And off jumps Jack.

It only took Evie a few moments to get the hang of things (I had kind of showed her how before, remember) and that afternoon, she had several inches knit. I suppose it could be called the beginning of a scarf.

Here are the key things I need to remember when teaching people, especially kids, to knit for the first time:

Use straights, not circulars. That cable just gets in the way and confuses the issue.

Wood needles. It grabs the yarn, so the stitches don't slide off.

And speaking of yarn, wool is very grippy (and wonderful, but you knew that). Perfect for the beginning knitter. Hand dyed yarn with color variegation is ideal because it helps keep track of the row you are on and what direction you are going in, and just helps you "see" those stitches better.

Size eight or bigger needles (I believe mine were a ten) and nice thick yarn, that is the correct gauge for the needles. Thick yarn is good for the morale, because it makes progress appear almost immediately. I wouldn't go thicker than size ten to twelve, though. Then, the needles you are manipulating feel like broomstick handles, and that becomes it's own battle.

Finally, memorize the little rhyme. I promise. Dozens of times yesterday, Evie would show me her work and ask, "What do I do next?" And I'd look and say, "Oh, now it's 'Off jumps Jack.' " 

"Oh, okay!"

Well, I'm thrilled Evie finally is getting her chance to learn to knit, and the positive experience may ensure that I'll have a fellow knitter in the family.

Good old Waldorf. (We aren't Waldorf homeschoolers, nor hold to its philosophies, but I love to glean homeschooling ideas from many many sources, including Waldorf.)

Are you wondering where my photos of Evie's knitting are? And more photos in general? I'm having a time figuring out how to use Lightroom, something I haven't used in the past. My big sister (the one of many talents, the one who dyed Evie's yarn) is coming over this afternoon and hopefully she will dispense to me some of her wisdom so I can have new photos on the blog tomorrow.

 

About that piano...

Saturday, Cate, Grace Gideon, and Evie played in their piano studio's winter recital. I was so proud of them that I could have just burst. Having been gone for most of the fall lessons while we were in Denmark, with their teachers checking in now and then via Skype, and having lots of normal practice time interrupted due to the moving and traveling and sickness, in the last several weeks all four of them put some extra hard work into practice to get their pieces in shape for the recital. 

Evie may have put the most effort into practice out of all four of them. She performed her very first sonatina, a piece that was much more difficult and about four times longer than any she had learned prior to that. There was so much memory work, and new techniques to be learned, and much of it had to be done while we were on another continent! As little as three weeks beforehand she couldn't go from start to finish without getting lost or stuck in the middle, and her teachers were a bit concerned about her being able to perform it on stage. However, Evie kept practicing and practicing, breaking it down into smaller pieces, concentrating on the difficult parts, drilling, reviewing, working on hands separate, and then repeating all those steps. And then when she got up the next day, she did all of those things again. And the day after that. And the day after.

The evening of the recital, Evie played her piece, and it sounded so lovely. Her mistakes were minor, but best of all, she kept an incredible amount of concentration during the entire performance (probably her biggest struggle in practice) and she played the sonatina from start to finish with beautiful musical flow. I was, and am, so proud that I am close to tears just thinking about it. It was such a big accomplishment for her and she was extremely pleased afterwards. She told me that when she sat down before she played that her hands were trembling, but you would have never known it from the audience. She appeared calm and in control of the piece.  You know what they say, practice makes perfect, or, at least, almost perfect. Sometimes the improvement is close to imperceptible, but eventually it all adds up and turns those halted beginning attempts into something amazing.

The older kids played extremely well, also. During the time in Denmark, Gideon began to approach practicing with a lot more effort and purpose. He practices as much as the older girls but often he gets distracted. I think something clicked for him over the last few months and he discovered that he is close to being able to play all the music that he really loves. He learned how to do quite a bit of improvising and playing by ear, figuring most of it out on his own while playing around, and he also made some great headway on a Chopin piece that he loves, and is his first truly "professional" level piece. The Chopin wasn't ready to be performed at the recital, to his disappointment, but he got to perform a really exciting fun, fast piece by Khatchaturian. He did a really great job.

Cate and Grace each had Debussy pieces that they enjoy very much. Again, they have other pieces they've been practicing that just aren't ready for performance quite yet (I'm always amazed at how much work goes into a piano piece before it is ready to be performed) but they both really nailed the Debussy.

It was such a fun evening. I'm so proud of my piano players. I could, and do, listen to them practice all day...oh, how being a mother changes you and makes you love doing things you never thought you could before. I quit piano lessons at around age 12 because I just hated practicing for that hour or so a day. Now, between the four of them, our house has around 10-12 hours of practice a day (that fortunately gets divided between three pianos or we'd never be able to leave the house!!!) that I monitor faithfully to make sure it's all being done the way it should. Growing up I could care less about slurs, or phrasing, much less bothering to find a consistent fingering, and I memorized maybe one piece in all those years of piano. It's a different story over here. I often look back on the years of lessons I did, and the years when I did no lessons, and there's regret that I can't sit down at the piano and just play, anything that I want to, whether sight read or memorized or improvised. I think if someone had just told me back then that quitting just wasn't an option, I would have stuck to it and been very glad I'd done so. My kids don't want to quit, and absolutely love to play in recitals and competitions. Practicing, naturally, takes a huge amount of time and effort that they put in every day, and yes, some days my encouragement, or help, or cajoling, or bribery, or scolding is necessary to get through the day's practice, but in general they have each taken the responsibility on themselves to get it done.

Having wonderfully kind, encouraging, teachers, who at the same time have an extremely high standard of excellence, while never being for a moment the least bit harsh or negative, is wonderful as well. Week after week, they come to their lesson and play that piece that they've been working on, and are told, "Not bad at all," and are then given a long list of things to fix. However, once in a blue moon, they play the piece for their teachers and they finally hear the comment, "That was actually impressive," and I'll meet their eyes and see a look of immense pride on their face.

I know down the road they will always be thankful for their knowledge and understanding of music, no matter where it leads, even if it just means they are able to help their own children learn to practice piano one day, just as I do.

 

Christmas Joy

Ah, Christmas...so sweet and lovely and sparkly and special. The night we decorated the tree was just magical. I couldn't seem to take a single bad photo as the kids delightedly hung ornaments and stood back to admire them Part of the magic came in watching Clementine explore the new, brightly lit decoration in the house, that was covered with bright, glittery balls. One of those balls proved irresistible to her and finally ended up broken to shards (as they do) and needed to be swept up. It's hard to keep her away from the tree, because she just loves it so much. Her other favorite thing to do with our decorations is to go through the house and find all the little baby Jesus's. I think we have three different Nativity sets of one sort or another, including one of her very own, made of soft dolls that stick to their stable with velcro. 

My heart was so full that night as we gathered to watch a Christmas movie together, and I have hardly felt as thankful as I did that night that all of us were together, healthy, happy, safe. So often it seems too good to be true. I should always be more grateful for the blessings given to me, and repent of those times I take our wonderful life together for granted. 

Up until last night, this Christmas season, and life in general, was feeling quite hectic and rushed, with trying to get back into some sort of school routine after returning from Denmark; getting all the kids well, running the regular household again, long overdue dental visits. Meanwhile I felt I should be wanting to prepare for the holidays, but it was feeling more like a chore to me than a want. I think I realized, though, that whatever happens this holiday season will happen, and what we don't get to will just have to be okay.

Yes, there are two birthdays coming up: Grace's and Truman's, but even a trip to the movie theater to see the new Star Wars (something everyone in my family is highly anticipating, though least of all me, but I wouldn't miss their faces when they see it for the world) would make a wonderful birthday celebration all by itself.  This time of year I feel the guilt of not organizing photos and making a photo album, but I'm not going to let that bother me either. If I get to it, wonderful, and if not, it will eventually happen, and of course, there's always next year!

The worry about gifts bought, handmade items finished, Christmas songs learned on the piano, and cookies or candy made should never steal away the joy of the season. What matters most of all is that we're all together (Back in Colorado! Back in Colorado!). Celebrating life together and the birthday of King Jesus is the best gift of all.