life of seven

Back again!

Hi folks, don't worry, all is well at the Davenport home. We started up our home schooling after the holidays, and I got in such a good, busy routine that I had trouble fitting in the blogging. I thought about posts I could write, and I missed my daily, or almost daily writing habit that I'd been keeping up, but on the other hand, other things in life were falling into place, which is always a good feeling. And that's kind of the way life goes- it's so hard to keep all the balls you're juggling in the air at once. On the one hand, Jude started piano lessons and daily piano practice has subsequently taken place, but meanwhile my poor little blog got put in a corner for a bit. I think I'm usually pretty okay with that aspect of life, for better or worse. I don't stress the details too much, which can be a great thing, but it depends on what other things fall behind. Like, sometimes it's paying the bills. Oops, there's a pink slip from the electric company...probably could have skipped a day of spelling lessons that week and gotten caught up on bills...

This reminds me of a blog post I thought of, but didn't write. "Go to the ant, you sluggard, consider its ways." (Proverbs 6:6) I used to always kind of think of that scripture as an insult, or a rebuke, which obviously it is for the slothful person, but after pondering it for a bit, I've realized I really like the days that I feel like an ant. Hustling around, getting lots and lots of things done. I love to be busy. I love accomplishing talks. And, as nice as relaxing and lying around the house can be, after a day of it, I am done. I do feel exactly like a sluggard, if a sluggard is what I imagine it to be, which is some Jabba-the-hut type of incarnation. That's how I picture it when I hear the word, hah! After doing nothing my head feels muddled and I get grouchy and start snapping at people. I'm definitely a much happier ant than sluggard.

Anyway, this blog post is supposed to be about that baby doll you see up there. Evie (with some help from me) made the doll for Clementine for Christmas. Do the pictures show you how much she adores it? When Clementine opened the present and saw the doll, she grabbed her, hugged her tight and then began walking around the room, showing her to people. But she wanted to show, only. She got quite upset when other's assumed she wanted them to hold her doll. She grabbed the doll back quickly and walked away to someone else who would admire the doll from afar, rather than try to take it.

This doll design is a little different from baby dolls I've made in the past. Slightly bigger head, and the body and legs weighted down with millet. The doll feels so great in the hands. Just the right amount of weight to make it feel much more real, and the weight means she can sit up on her own and be posed slightly. At a less busy time in my life, I will make dolls again, including more like the one you see here. Because she's just wonderful. I like the simple french knots for the eyes and mouth, and the blush on the cheeks and nose and hands. Clemmie likes her too.

Aaaaah, writing again. Feels great. I hope to talk to you guys again in the coming days!

Knitting a hat

I knit this hat up quick as a wink. One, maybe two nights of knitting, with a row squeezed in here and there throughout the day. It was so fun, too. I love knitting cables, and this hat, Quadri, was full of interesting, non annoying ones. You have to have that non annoying aspect when knitting cables. I knit this in sport weight yarn for Clementine, though in truth it fits Truman and Jude really well. Actually, it even works for me, fitting very snug and therefore warmly, yet still covers my ears. But I'm sure it's a million times cuter on Clementine than it is on me, and that's before I've even added the pom pom! How ridiculous. Babies. I can't make her not look cute, even when she's covered from head to two in chili, after trying to feed herself with a spoon.

I hope to make another hat with this pattern in worsted weight yarn for those in our family with bigger heads, like the pattern calls for. This will do in the meantime.

 

Ready

Scandinavian sweater finished: check (it's blocked and little heart buttons are sewn on. I'll put pictures up in a coming post).

Looks like we're good for traveling to the Arctic circle. I'm scurrying around throwing random things into open suitcases, trying to remember all the last minute items I'm going to need, but we're good to go. I'll keep posting on here while we're away. I'm looking forward to taking pictures in that beautiful hazy light that I recall from our last visit to Denmark. And here's hoping a hat or two will get knitted during that long plane ride. Considering I'll have a just turned one year old on my lap it's probably  wishful thinking, but you never know. In any case, I'll be prepared for that eventuality.

See you guys later!

Birthday Party

Happy, happy, birthday, Little Miss Clementine Merriweather Davenport. And a happy, happy birthday to my aunt, Ruth, as well. The morning Clementine was born, Ben called up my Aunt Ruthie (that's what I've called her all my life, can't bear to call her anything else) and said, "Happy Birthday, Ruth!"

She said, surprised, "Why, how nice of you to remember!" (Ben and I aren't exactly known for keeping up with birthdays...I should change that...anyway:) 

Ben said, "I thought you might like to hear that you have a brand new baby niece to share a birthday with from now on."

Well, my aunt thought that was just wonderful. I could hear her delight through Ben's side of the conversation over the phone. My dad's side of the family is very sentimental like that, in a good way. They are the kind of people that stand in the driveway waving when you leave the house till long after the car is out of sight. They are the kind that call up and sing "happy birthday" to you on the phone, and if you don't answer, leave a message of them singing it instead. They are the thoughtful sort that thinks all birthdays are deserving of breakfast in bed, no matter what the age of the birthday person.

Of course I know this since I grew up in the same town as my aunt (and the rest of her family) and was always treated very special by them on my birthday, and so many other days. I thought it was great that Clementine shared a birthday with my aunt.

This year, for her first birthday, and Clementine's being the last one year birthday I would celebrate of my children, I wanted to make sure I did something special to commemorate it. And four days before her birthday, I came up with the perfect thing: a party for Clementine, with a surprise guest of honor, her aunt.

Naturally this fell on the weekend of Grace's big concert, with a camping trip to follow in a few days, and a humungous move to Denmark after that. It made perfect sense to throw everything together like that.

I'm impulsive, and I always have been. I could blame it on my husband's influence on me (he's the same way) but I'm afraid it wouldn't be fair to do that, since I have been this way my whole entire life. If an idea occurs to me I generally just try to do it without putting much thought into the logistics of it. 

By Sunday morning, the day the party was to take place, I had done basically nothing to prepare for the party, but between my parents, my sisters, and my kids, we had transformed the yard by noon and beautiful cakes, homemade pesto, zucchini from the garden, and fresh bread were all made. We brought our couch outside, a coffee table, and thanks to Grace's concert the night before, had several bouquets of flowers with which to decorate the tables in the yard.

It was such a lovely party.

I have to say, Clementine was the perfect one year old. She did exactly what one expects a one year old to do at their first birthday party, but seldom does. She was awake and cheerful through the entire thing. She visited with people and tolerated being held by, what were to her, strangers. No, she didn't blow out her candle, but she was wide eyed and happy to stare at it in a mesmerized fashion.

She immediately grabbed the raspberries off the plate and popped them in her mouth, despite all the faces staring at her and cameras aimed at her (I've known many a baby to burst into tears at this point or be completely camera shy and just sit there, uncertain what to do). She picked at the cake and smeared frosting over herself, and plopped most of it on the ground, to the delight and entertainment of her guests. Hardly a bite was actually eaten.

Once cleaned up, she sat on Grace's lap for the opening of the gifts, and seemed to know exactly how to open them, and that we all expected her to. She tore open the paper and inspected the box to see what was inside. She appropriately appreciated each gift by hugging the stuffed animals, admiring the new dress, glancing curiously at the new duplos, and adoring the new books. One stuffed animal, a giant stuffed fish, she did not appreciate. She seemed frightened by its large eyes and mouth and pushed it away, frustrated. This, however, brought a rousing laugh out of everyone, so she continued those antics for quite some time.

In summary, the party went just how I had hoped it would, and had worried it wouldn't the night before, when I realized all the preparation that needed to be done the next day.

Clementine, my darling, I've loved every day that you have been with us, from the moment I first knew I was expecting you, to your birth, to your very first birthday, and every day in between. You bring joy and delight to all those around you and we are so privileged to have you in our family. It's been a year now, that I've enjoyed looking into the lives of my seven children. At times it's crazy, hectic, loud, messy, and disorganized, but at other times it's peaceful, cozy, fun, fascinating, educational, and comforting. I wouldn't wish for my life to be any other way than what it is right now, mothering these seven darlings every single day.

One

Oh my sweet baby Clementine is one today. A birthday candle in her scrambled eggs, with raspberries on the side, because those are her two favorite foods. Xoxo, baby girl. You beauty, who loves shoes, wearing them and trying to put them on, regardless of who they belong to. Who loves to try to brush her sister's hair, who loves to try to push dolly in the stroller, who loves to pretend to talk on the phone, who loves to exclaim "uh-oh!" when appropriate, who loves to shriek "Hi!" when people walk in the door, who loves to hear our exclamations when you take a step or two to us all on your own.

I have two long posts to write- one about Grace's concert (which went so perfectly- in every way possible) and one about the sweet party we had for Clementine and my aunt, who share the same birthday. And I have to pack for a camping trip, after which I have to pack for Denmark- we leave for three months next Wednesday. 

For now I am just revealing in my baby girl's very first birthday.

Drapey sweater iteration, version 5

Okay. I've now knit this pattern five times. Yes, that's correct, five. Grace is wearing hers in these pictures, actually, which is quite common, since she rarely takes the sweater off. It makes the perfecct accessory- lacey and shawl-like, drapey and not heavy, three-quarter sleeves to stay out of the way; it really is pretty much the perfect sweater.This is the first baby version, and I must say, it is so utterly adorable. That baby pink color on my baby who is about to turn one, just melts my heart. 

One day I will write the pattern down. I will. Plucky single, as I've mentioned on here before, is perfect. Pretty much the perfect yarn. I love the 20% silk. It makes it so shiny and bright. Between the pink yarn, the darling pattern, and my girl's upcoming first birthday, I knit this up in, like, three days.

And this baby girl, Clementine, just melts my heart. She took a little step yesterday, and I discovered her very first tooth three days ago. She played with her brother's flip-flops the other day for a good fifteen minutes, trying to put them on her feet. Let's all say "Aaaaaawwwwww" all together now, shall we? "Aaaaaawwwww." 

(Here it is on Ravelry)

One easy reason

Uh-oh. Look who thinks she is such a big girl now. And, yes I'm the mom who quick snapped a photo before I took my daughter off the somewhat precarious object she was determined to climb on. Look at me explore, Mom, she says to me with a her proud face, and now I've captured that expression  forever. Don't get me wrong, I am the first to freak out if the kids attempt anything I think is truly dangerous, justifiably or not ("Don't you dare do a flip off the high dive!"-- "There is no way you are tall enough to go on that ride...you are?...well, can we wait till next year?" --"Kids, stand back away from that rail!" "Mom, it's a hotel. I'm pretty sure they built the rail to code and I think if we look over the other side we will not compromise the rail or our safety" are all conversations that have taken place over the years).

In that vein, I don't allow Clementine  in a room with stairs with my back turned, since she is absolutely convinced she must climb them as often and quickly as possible. However, when she is actually allowed to climb those stairs (with me behind her, just in case she loses her balance and would otherwise take a tumble), she turns every few steps and gives me this look of absolute satisfaction and pride.

As her mother it feels like an allegory of what our life together will look like for the next dozen or more years. Me, gently guiding her, helping her, standing back and watching to see what she does; making sure she's safe, and applauding her triumphs and consoling her after her falls. One day, not very far off, my big girl will climb those stairs without needing any help whatever from me; one day, too, she will leave our home and be a big girl able to make her own decisions, climbing whatever mountain she chooses to try to conquer.

I've been trying to think about a short answer as to why I homeschool. It's hard, because there is no single short answer, rather there are dozens and dozens of reasons, some long and complex, some short and simple. Here's a simple one: just like I want to help my daughter take her very first steps with me by her side to protect her from any tumbles, so too do I want to continue to be that guide during her school age years, when her mind is growing, and exploring and learning. I want her to turn to me looking for my expectant smile when she achieves a great accomplishment, and I want to be the one to comfort her when she gets frustrated or even fails. I want to be her life teacher, mentor, guide, leader, friend. As a homeschooling parent, it is so much easier for me to be all of those things.

So there it is: one (short, simple, to the point) reason why I love to homeschool my kids.

Summer Days and Reading

She's crawling everywhere, pulling up on things, climbing, letting go and standing on her own, and last Sunday I caught her pushing herself up to a standing position all by herself while playing in the grass. I've been trying to start a daily early morning walk with Clementine in the stroller. This was my usual blogging time (or sometime there in the morning), and so I still need to figure out how to squeeze the blog in while actually getting a bit of exercise. Because it really feels good. The walking and the writing.

Like all of us, Pepper tries to beat the heat. If the hose or the sprinkler is on, she is a happy dog. A spray of water is the most delightful reward and the normally serious Pepper lets her inward puppy come out whenever there is any water around.

Lego minifigs about, always. Some like they originally came, some reconfigured into a mix of different characters, some borrowing parts from others to create make-shift Indiana Jones' or whatever character is necessary for the story, and some deconstructed and left, waiting for the day when they will get reassembled into a playable little lego guy once again. Poor little guys.

I didn't write a reading post last week, so let me update where we are at:

I think I'll just skim past me because I, um, barely read a page last week. And by barely, I mean I can't think of a single book I even picked up and read out of.  As I hang my head in shame.

The other kids have been reading  The Wright Brothers  by David McCullough (Cate assures me this is one of the best books she's ever read, and Grace just now started it, and I really want to read it, too. Yes, actually read it, not just let it sit next to my bed for weeks);

John Adams (Also David McCullough)

Jacob Have I Loved (Katherine Patterson)

Mine For Keeps (Jean Little)

More Lemony Snicket, always

More Shel Silverstein, always

Some random Childhood of Famous Americans

Anne of Green Gables (Evie and I, or I should probably just say, I, haven't been as consistent as I'd like reading this out loud every day, but starting today, I won't let that slide anymore)

More Curious George

And, we have started up The Horse and His Boy  in our "weekly/whenever everyone can make it/ nobody's out of town" book club with friends. We began reading through the Narnia series toward the beginning of the year together. This is probably the fourth time our family has read this series out loud together, not to mention the close to dozen times I read many of the books growing up. Great reading, always. Very deep story, especially when all the books are read in concession, like one very long book.

So, in summation of last week, we didn't quite hit our quotas I would have liked to, but overall, I feel like it was a pretty good week of reading, nonetheless.

Clementine and Her Siblings

Can you tell that this little nine month old (she won't be ten months until the tenth, so there!) loves being a part of her big brothers' and sisters' lives? Whatever it is they're doing, she tries her best to join in and figure out just what the "game" is. Oh my, is that water play table a huge hit. I thought Jude and Truman would be the main ones who would love it, but Evie and Clementine are equally as enamored with it. Clemmie, maybe even more so, since water is still a relatively new phenomenon to her. I mean, everything is a relatively new phenomenon to a nine month old, I suppose. Peas, strawberries, grass, mud, sticks, flowers (no, don't eat them!!), legos (especially don't eat those!), bumpy wagon rides, dogs. 

She squeals so loudly when she sees Pepper, and it sure sounds to me like she says "Dog! Dog!" It's close, but maybe it's not quite a real word yet. It always amazes me how quickly babies notice, and love, animals.

Truman's hair in the middle picture...those are spider web clumps in it. Of course. Oh, that boy. Thank God for little boys. They sure make my life more interesting. For instance, without my boys, I doubt I would know, or care, what a droid is. And I know I would have never noticed that there are different colored light sabers in Star Wars- red, green, and blue, I believe. And I stand in awe of the sound effects boys can make. I never knew the human voice could sound like a machine gun, or a truck, or a sword blade, or a bomb, well before intelligible English could be spoken. Also, I think I figured out what the big deal is with legos: my boys don't as much want to play with dollhouses and miniatures ("those are girl toys!"), but legos, especially mini-figs, consist of that childlike, or maybe human-like, fascination with itty-bitty cuteness. Don't tell that to my boys.

I am sure Clementine will learn all these things, and a pile of others, from her big brothers. Maybe they will learn a thing or two from her, also.

On Our Way

I believe the time has come-I hope Disney World is ready for our very big crew. I will post pictures if I'm able. See that half of Atlas Shrugged? Think I'll get a chance to read it in the next two weeks? I'm on the last few hundred pages, finally, and in a spurt of wishful thinking, I packed it in the suitcase. But I have a feeling not much reading will be happening. 

In honor of the trip and the lots (lots) of walking I will do, and subsequently baby carrying, I have worked at finding and perfecting my favorite back carry. I believe this one is called Double Hammock with candy cane chest belt. So comfortable. Not too hard to do. But it does take a little while to get her up there perfectly. Once up, though, I think I'm good for a pretty long stretch. I like it. I'll give the carry the ultimate test: Disney World!