Weekly Roundup: All Things Vintage

Saturdays 'round here are all about the pancakes. And the Looney Tunes--the old ones. Or at least, the unrelenting begging for the Looney Tunes.

But last Saturday I was delighted to see Fifi leading her little sisters in the construction of a shoe box doll house, complete with wood floors made of painted popsicle sticks and curtains draping a beautiful outdoor scene that Fifi drew to paste to the outside of the imaginary panes.

That skill in toy building will come in handy because we are getting ready to gather up every horse, cow, princess, chicken and goat painted in China and toss them away. Because, *shhhhh* my little ones can't help but put them in their mouths--even as old as they are.

Many tears were shed by Dumpling, my most tactile learner, at the realization that her toys would have to go. But I reassured her that we would find some others, though not as many, because we're buying from German and French factories now. They are still made in China, but the foreign factories run their own shop and are more careful than the U.S. has been about letting the Chinese govern themselves.

Frankly, I think it's ingenious on the part of the Chinese! What better way to assure yourself a shot at world domination down the line than to slowly poison whole generations of the superpower's youngsters. *blublublublublubblublublub*

Here they are at a pricey designer toy store later in the week, picking out just a few pieces. No, you can't have the $100 Playmobil set where the Christians are fed to the lions in a Roman ampitheater! (You think I jest?) You can each have 4 little things. 4. Little. And you're still doing better than the pioneers with their corn husk dolls.

Hmmmm? Corn husk dolls. That sounds dreamy...to me.

Back to Saturday...Husband did what Husband loves best. He made a big pot of beef with exotic stew ingredients. Of course, I'm a Swanson's girl, so an herb is exotic to me.

On Sunday after church, Cuddlebug and I attended the season opener for the Early Music choir that I'm not singing with this year. We enjoyed sitting in the front row so that she could watch the accompanist play the small keys of the harpsicord.

Piano practice offered some moments I want to remember this week. In the middle of her time at the keys one day, Dumpling stopped to show me where she could see the hammers pinging the strings underneath. From the adjoining room, Fifi chimed in about how her new orthodontic band is like a portable instrument. *Cue the plucking* She can even tune it depending upon how she holds her jaw!

This week, I read a statement on this post from Anna at Pleasant View Schoolhouse that freed me! She said that curriculum choice doesn't matter; give her a curriculum and she'll make it work! It was a very liberating thought to one who, under duress, chooses and then spends a good portion of the rest of the term second-guessing if she's actually chosen correctly! (Me, me, and me again.)

So, I found myself somehow dumping out of the Science curriculum (at least temporarily) that we've been using for 20-hundred terms, and reading from the Nature and the Universe volume of an old set of The Bookshelf for Boys and Girls that I got a few years ago at a resale shop. I love these volumes. They are simply from another time, a simpler time--a happier time. They don't teach a young earth, per se, but that's why I read them aloud.

We began at the beginning and learned about protoplasm and the girls were strangely disgusted to learn that they, themselves, are made up of cells and that a bird yolk is the largest single cell and now they have sworn off eggs forever. And beef. And chicken.

It was such a funny lesson.

For me, at least.

All in all, a very productive week of discovery; between that, and the McGuffey's Readers I bought resale, I'm educating these sweet girls in the trappings of their Grandmother's era--and it's really very glooooooorious.

A little lower-grammar level geography...with "pieces of money..."

When Fifi could tear herself away from her latest read...

...she could be heard playing the piano, offering Nearer My God to Thee while her little sisters tried, in vain, to apply the lyrics from Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus.

Or trying to pick out...



On Thursday, Cuddlebug fell sick just in time for our first day at the symphony, followed by a much-anticipated picnic playtime--which we had to cancel.

But always one to make the best of things, Dumpling played nurse to her little sister. Here she is with the patient's chart, complete with illustrations of the parts that hurt.

Sometimes spending this kind of time with siblings is great fun. Like drawing up a hopscotch board and jumping around together...

Sometimes it gives little ones an "opportunity" to practice turning the other cheek.

And sometimes nurturing sibling love is a choice. An act of obedience to God's sovereignty in assigning the birth order. Sometimes that true love can only come from a determination and desire to walk more closely with the Lord.

To know Him more. To love Him more. To trust Him more. To want to please Him more. To be yielded to Him more.

See how the emphasis is on Him, rather than even what we want to do for Him?

And this week, that love spilled out of a clean heart and a renewed spirit to look like love letters to everyone...

At week's end, Fifi got a hankerin' to put away the spring colors and bring out the fall ones. And I said, "By all means! Be. my. guest!"

Have I mentioned how delightful it is to have a 12-year-old in the house?

And this is Friday. We 4 girls dust, vacuum, tidy, wash, fold, carry, Febreze, and sometimes even remember to put on some of Daddy's favorite music to fill the rooms for him when he returns home. We do it because he would never ask us to, but we know it pleases him so much. And we are very grateful for all he is to our little clan. And we love him so much.

Quote of the Week...

...once again goes to Dumpling. I can't decide yet whether it's her, or it's her being seven that makes me laugh!

During our science reading we were introduced to the terms agar plate and petri dish, and I told the girls the story of Dumpling's meningitis at 3 weeks old, and how we stayed in the PICU for 3 or 4 nights, waiting for the culture to grow, and how she was treated with the antibiotics that could have taken her hearing--unbeknown to me. And I tried to impress upon them how very good and gracious God was to me to blind me to that information and not ask me to make such a choice!

To this, Dumpling--with an air of seriousness--cupped her ear, turned her head and said, "What did you say?"