it's a party, it's a party for Broby. I mean, Mommy. I mean, me.

Okay, not to keep rambling on about my birthday or anything, but I am going to keep rambling on about my birthday for a while.  So sue me.  I get one day all year where it's my time to shine and I don't have to share the spotlight with anyone.  Anyone.  (Well, except Baby Jessica, who shares my exact birthdate and has gotten way more news coverage than me so far in our lives.  But whatever, it's fine, I'm over it.)  So I'm going to milk it for everything it's worth.

Glamour Shawts by Todd.  This is what glamor looks like at 34: still in pajamas at 6 p.m., aging-ballerina-slash-Trunchbull bun, sitting on an Ikea throne.  This is what I call The Good Life.

I mentioned before that Todd got me tickets to see Matchbox 20 and the Wallflowers this summer in St. Louis, which I'm super stoked about for a couple of reasons:

First, Matchbox 20 and the Wallflowers!  CAN YOU SAY SWOON?!  Just squeeze me into my low-rise, wide-belted, olive-drab flares and a cropped babydoll tee that says "Jesus is my homeboy," and stick a macramé choker on me and braid tiny ribbons into my hair, and you have 18-year-old Paige Van Voorst's dream summer break.  (As it turns out, it is also Aging Paige Van Voorst's dream summer break.  I like to think we're not that different, other than the fact that I'm no longer as generally moronic.  Also, I have a few more kids now.)

Second, I love his show of dauntless optimism that the quarantine will be lifted and that there will still be a St. Louis (and a Matchbox 20 and a The Wallflowers) come August.  I would marry him all over again just for that valiant show of hope and cheer and postmillennialism.  Hurrah for the one and only Todd Van Voorst (other than the other, vastly inferior Todd Van Voorsts walking around the planet, who I am confident are less optimistic, and also not as handsome, nor as beardful).

After lunch, we went on a walk.  I am an introvert who homeschools, so quarantine is just fancy-talk for All of the Days Always around here, and seeing as how I am 110% in love with my small, domestic life, I have not been all that shaken by everything.  But I was finally itching to get out of the house, so we walked a nearby trail.

We got Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner (but we didn't order coleslaw from there, since I've never fully recovered from that one time I bit into a used, wadded-up napkin someone left soaking away in the dressing and which looked remarkably like a chunk of cabbage, though it decidedly wasn't a chunk of cabbage) and cheesecake and coffee for dessert.

After dinner, the kids presented me with their cards and gifts.

Atticus made me a card and wrote me a book.

Penelope also made me a card and wrote me a book.

Finneas made me the funniest card on the face of the planet, and gave me his prized diecast model 1984 Chevy.

Laurelai made me a card, and then another card which she wrapped in a gift bag.

Rocco made me book that just said "D-Day!" on each of its eight pages, and it came with an explanatory birthday card that said nothing but "That book is D-Day."

And all the kids chipped in to buy me a pair of decent shoes.

And there.  Now I'm done reporting on my birthday.  I'll turn the news coverage back over to Baby Jessica from here on out, as well I should before fame changes me.

quarantraining. (and a link to my potty training ebook!)

With all this free time stuck at home lately, I decided - kind of on a whim - to potty train Callista.  We're a week and a half in now, and it seems to have 'stuck', PTL.

If you remember, I tried this already in the Fall, but we both felt overwhelmed by it, so I called it quits, intending to try again during Spring Break.  Well, the week before Spring Break rolled around, and it became obvious that we had nothing going on and nowhere to be, so I just decided to put panties on her one day and get started.

Such a sassy sister.

She has been doing so well - she is a total champ at 'holding it,' so we've only had one full-on accident.  'Releasing on cue' has taken longer, so she often just holds it until she's in a diaper over nap or at night.  (I don't push bladder control during sleeping hours in order to consider them 'trained'; I find it naturally kind of takes care of itself after a while, and I don't have to deal with stripping sheets and giving 2 a.m. baths in the meantime.)

What has been a fantastic development in all of this is that Penelope has become my right-hand gal.  She has basically taken over all potty training duties for me, and it has been freaking amazing.

I was finding that Callista often needed to be sent to the bathroom when I was nursing Juni or cooking, so I would send Penelope in with her.  I started to realize that Penelope was way more successful than I was in consistently getting Callista to pee in the toilet.

I asked Penelope what her magic secret was, and she said she would gently squeeze or push on Lissy's belly to help her feel like she had to go.  Genius.  I have potty trained five (now six) kids, and that never occurred to me; leave it to the nine-year-old to figure it out in two hours.

So now, any time Callista needs to go potty, Penelope jumps right up to help her.  (She loves being helpful, but also I give her M&M's for helping, so that doesn't hurt.)

This "having a million kids" thing really pays off in the long run.

So Callista is now fully potty trained during waking hours - she has successfully made the three-hour trip up to the Amish and back without incident, and we have taken a couple family walks lasting around an hour.  Other than during sleep, she is officially out of diapers!

Thanks, Quarantine!


A whiiiiiiiiile ago, I told you I was writing an ebook on potty training at our house.  It may not be the ultimate authority in the wide, wide world of potty training resources, but it's what has worked for us every time with our kids.  I cover how to know when your kiddo is ready, what you'll need, how to get into the right frame of mind, and when a kiddo's refusal to potty train might become a discipline issue.

I'm including this link to the PDF, but before you click on it you have to PROMISE that you won't be judgy about its unpolished state.  (Maybe someday I'll get around to finishing it up, but that day is not today.)  Deal? Okay.  Click away.

weekly what's up.

Welcome to the (almost) weekend!  We made it through the week relatively unscathed, even considering all the oddities at the moment.

Last weekend, Todd spent Friday and Saturday at an elder's retreat, so the kids and I hunkered down on our own.  While it was fun, I am no Dad, and Saturday Dadurday just wasn't the same without him.  I honestly can't even remember what we did that day - I probably cleaned the house and let the kids watch too much TV.  I'm pretty sure I made them rake leaves, too.  I think you can see I'm a big dull dud without Todd.

On Sunday, church was cancelled due to the quarantine, so we slept in and had a slow, relaxing, and kind of weird day of rest and worship at home.  I like our normal Sunday routine, and I missed it this week.

The boys used their birthday and Christmas money to order some die cast pickup trucks, and they came in the mail over the weekend.  They were thrilled.

It seems the older truck already needs some engine work done, but no fear!  Lego Mechanic to the rescue!

On Monday, we kicked off Spring Break Woohoo.  I got some reading done, continued cleaning out the kitchen, worked a bit on painting the basement, and the kids and I started a Map of Europe puzzle.  It's 1000 pieces.  It was officially the worst, most psychotic parenting decision I've ever made, and I'll tell you why.

If this photo doesn't make your blood pressure shoot through the roof, then you have clearly never Puzzled with the early elementary set.

1.  This is our first puzzle together.  1000 pieces is too many to start with, especially with a six-year-old involved.

2.  We only have one table space, and no cardboard large enough to easily move it when we're needing to use the table for other things.  Transportation is going to be an issue.

3.  Four kids = four heads in my way when I'm trying to look for pieces.  It means eight hands grabbing pieces I'm trying to systematically work through.  It means dropped pieces and missing pieces and bent pieces.  STRESS LEVEL MIDNIGHT.

4.  It turns out I am not nice when I Puzzle.  ("I am trying to problem-solve here, people!  I don't care that your elbow bends that way!  Show me later.")  I am discovering I prefer to Puzzle alone.  Just call me the Lone Puzzler.

We got the border mostly done on Monday, and I have not had the courage to pull it back out since.  I'm pretty sure I want us to keep going.  Kind of.  Or maybe I will just have clandestine Puzzle Dates with myself after the kids are in bed.  ("Gee, kids.  I don't know how this happened.  It appears Russia assembled itself overnight.  They are probably getting ready to launch a hostile takeover.  Arm yourselves.")

These munchkins got it into their heads to snuggle on the counter, for whatever reason.

Tuesday, we got the news that our county was declaring Stay In Place orders starting the next day.  We braced ourselves and girded our loins for... well, for life to continue on exactly as it has been for the last week.

On Wednesday, I made our regular trip up to the Amish.  (I am not being reckless, I am buying groceries, WHICH IS ALLOWED THANKYOUVERYMUCH.)  We stopped into the bulk store for a few of our staples, and I was curious to see if it had been pillaged by the panicking public.  It had, in fact, not been.  In fact, I was able to find tons of organic Lundgren rice - brown basmati and brown jasmine, our favorites! - for 50 cents a pound!  Things were actually looking up for me.

The toilet paper, coffee, croutons, and all the candy had been plundered, but for those of us not subsisting on a diet of Rolos and dry goods, there was plenty of food to be found.

Juni has had fun this week getting pushed around in the toy basket.

Yesterday was my birthday, which I'll detail more next week, but I will say here that it was so nice.  Todd got me tickets to a Wallflowers/Matchbox 20 concert this summer, so I'm super pumped for that.  The kids all made me gifts and cards (Finneas' card said, "You are growing up!  To Mom and more" and I died).

We went on a neighborhood walk over Todd's lunch break, we had wings for dinner and cheesecake for dessert, and we watched The Greatest Showman before putting the kids to bed.  You can't possibly be surprised by any of this - this birthday celebration just screams Paige Van Voorst.

So that is all we did this week.  I will tell you what I did not do this week: I did not grade papers like I should have (that's on the agenda for today.  Probably.) and I did not fold any laundry.  My laundry pile is getting SO BAD.  I probably have about ten loads to fold at this point.  But I have an excuse: I like to fold laundry while watching a TV show - I very, very, very rarely get to watch TV during the day anymore, so I like to have something to look forward to doing while I fold laundry.  I had put a couple of seasons of Scrubs on hold at the library, but then the library closed for coronavirus before I could pick them up.  So I don't have a show to watch, and therefore I can't do the laundry.  See?  I knew you could be swayed to my side by logic and reason.

Heaven help me find the motivation to dig myself out from under the laundry, and to grade and file papers today.  OR Heaven help the rescue dogs find me after I'm buried under the inevitable avalanche of Laundry/Papers.  Whichever requires less effort on my part.

happy birthday to me. ship all my presents directly to COVID, as it's trying to steal everything from me anyway..

One time, when we were younger, my sister went rollerblading with a friend and fell and cracked her skull.  She was in the hospital for a few days, including MY BIRTHDAY, and I'm still ticked about the fact that she stole all my glory that year. (JK/JK I'm mostly over it I guess.)  The freaking nerve of some people, right?

Well, this year, I'm forced to relive that trauma, as today marks yet another birthday ripped away from me, this time by that gloryhog, Coronavirus.

Good gravy, I had all kinds of plans.  I was probably going to venture out in public.  I was probably going to get coughed on by a stranger.  I was probably going to lick the handrails on a city bus.  And just like that, poof.  Plans = gone.

And just to add salt to the wound, I had planned to dedicate today's blog post to the bosom friend that is my retainer.  This, my thirty-fourth year, marks twenty years of faithful friendship.  I love it, I cherish it, I wear it religiously.  It is the only thing standing sentry against my mouth turning into one of those puzzles where you can slide the pieces to different spots without ever actually removing them from the frame. 

It pains me to be the bearer of bad news, but something tragic has happened.  This week, as if to tell me in no uncertain terms that a twenty-year-old retainer is too old, it cracked.  It is being held together by a sliver of twenty-year-old plastic and a desperate prayer.  

Soon, it will also be held together by Superglue and shipping tape, because y'all.  I am not lying to you when I tell you my teeth are shifty.  I am thisclose to looking like Massage Lady.  And all the dentist offices are closed to "nonessential procedures" at the moment (though, I don't really know what's more essential than preventing my inevitable and permanent disfigurement.  But whatever).  

This birthday is turning out to be hard.  And obviously not just because I'm now officially in my midthirties.  I know that some of you out there will insist this isn't the beginning of the end for me, but I'm just not able to hear it right now.  If there's any proof of the dregs of youth left in me, it's that I'm still young enough to be an ass when it comes to accepting levelheaded wisdom.  Let me just feel my feels, OKAY BOOMER?

So, I suppose I will take this moment to end on a positive note, just because that's what a grownup would do in a situation like this and, as it turns out, I am positively right in the middle of being a grownup.  *Sigh.*

I would like to give a shoutout to Black, Winged Eyeliner, which has stuck by my side for a full twenty years without wavering.  We did have a rocky patch when my greasy eyelids were just too much for the Wet N Wild liner pencil I was burdening with my unrealistic expectations.  But that glorious wing stayed with me even through those young days of folly, and we have come out on the other side stronger than ever, thanks to Revlon Colorstay Gel liner (which does line greasy lids with aplomb, even those belonging to a Face Toucher).

So, thank you, Black, Winged Liner, for your faithful support.  You have brought out the best in me for a full twenty years, and I hope for twenty more (and then twenty more, and twenty more again, if we're hoping for stuff) together.  Let's grow old and glorious together, kay friend?  Kay. Luvyabebe.

Happy birthday to us.

in which i salivate over the pretty stuff i found at the antique mall.

I used to be really into garage sales, and especially estate sales.  To be the kind of person who's really into estate sales, you have to be a perfect combination of "old soul," "somewhat impoverished," and "possessing ample time to spend on the hunt."  I eventually had to give up garage sale-ing, since I just didn't have the time anymore (and taking kids to serial garage sales is SO STRESSSSSSSSFUL).

I also have to tell you that I hate thrift stores.  I haaaaaaaaaaaaaate thrift stores.  Everything smells like death, and I have a near-stroke every single time I walk into one.  I am paralyzed by the number of options, and the level of mental acuity required to sort through everything.  Thrift stores wear me out, so I don't really ever shop at them.

So, needless to say, it's been a hot minute since I've gotten to look around at other people's old junk.  Sure, I could just go on Etsy from the comfort of my living room, but I kind of don't feel like spending $17 shipping on an old yardstick that is priced at $3700 to begin with.  Etsy's vintage shops have cute stuff, but after spending estate sale prices on the exact same things earlier in life, I just can't bring myself to buy anything through there.

SO ANYWAY.  I sure can spin a riveting yarn.  I bet you're on the edge of your seat, wondering where I'm going with any of this.  And this is the part where I tell you: I recently decided to visit an antique mall.

Why?  I'm not exactly sure, as an antique mall is just a thrift store that's strung out on cocaine.  Or, really, it's a thrift store that was strung out on cocaine 20 years ago and is still somehow just...around.  There is the weirdest assortment of stuff in those places, but I went hoping to find at least something good.

And I did!  (...Though not before finding plenty of stuff that was very, very, very bad.  Antique malls are great reminders not to get too nostalgic - humans are, and always have been, really good at making really ugly stuff.  Just because it's old doesn't mean it's cute.)

First, I found Blue Willow plates, which is what I originally went looking for.  My dream is to someday own enough Blue Willow to feed the masses of our adult children and their spouses that we hope to invite for Sabbath dinners each week.  (I'll have Corelle for our millions of grandchildren, as well as two dishwashers.  I have thought this through.)

Aren't these gorgeous?!

A really good blue-and-white pattern always just stops me in my tracks.

Just think of how pretty these would be layered with pink depression glass!  Or jadeite!  OR BOTH!  I guess I'm going to have to start spending all my free time at antique malls from here on out to start bolstering my dishware collection.  Which will, in turn, mean that I will become a dusty shell of a person, because have I mentioned how ugly antique malls are?  I actually walked out of the place crying because I felt like I couldn't scratch the Ugly Dust off my skin.  (On the plus side, I know you can buy fourteen copies of Sister Act on VHS, and handmade outfits for your collector's edition Beanie Babies, so: Silver Lining.)

Let's move on to more pretty stuff before I start reliving the trauma all over again.

THESE!  They're handcarved! From Germany!  For only $4 each!

Sure, I realize they're not everyone's cup of tea.  But that's half the fun of decorating: finding things that are truly, truly yours.  If your decorating is not risky on some level, it will never be very good.  Something in your house should be potentially polarizing.  (Not that these are the most polarizing things in the world; if you can't see how pretty they are, it's simply because you're probably wrong, not because they're risky.)

All I'm saying is that, to be a full human person, you have to be willing to take some risks in the name of beauty and glory.  That's all I'm saying.  And I like to think that these weird German wall plaques serve as reminders of that.


So anyway.  That's what I left with.  The first day.

I didn't want to, but I was forced to return a few days later because I had seen a family portrait marked down to $25 and I felt like a fool - LIKE A FOOL - for having left without it.  So I went back and bought it.

$25 for art this large is unheard of.  Even just the frame is worth way more than that.  And I love stumbling across large decorating pieces at affordable prices - people tend to have small-scale décor items (which feel floaty and mismatched without bigger pieces to balance them) because the price of large scale stuff is hard to swallow.  While I'm offering decorating advice, here's another little tip: you will be happier with one or two large items that you saved up for, than a bunch of random small or medium items that you bought on a whim.  Buy the expensive lamps and forego the tchotchkes and you will be a much happier homemaker.  

What I didn't realize the first time was that the family history was written on the back!  One of the worst parts about antiques is that they all have stories, but it can be impossible to know what they are.  I physically ache sometimes with the desire to know about the people who owned and loved things before I got my hands on them.  I need the story.  And until I pulled this off the wall to buy it, I didn't know the story had been written down for me!

So.  I would like you to meet John and Caroline Mattern and their ten children, who lived less than 30 minutes from my hometown in Iowa!  They were real people, with a real story.  I could go see their house; I could go visit their graves.  Just amazing.


Anyway.  I was so glad to find this stuff when I did, because this was only a week and a half ago, and now it would be just unheard of to brave the postapocalyptic landscape for something as trifling as plates and wall art.  Perhaps that indicates misproportioned priorities; I'm not sure.  But now, when I get depressed about having to stay cooped up inside all the time, I at least have some outlets for making 'inside' a prettier place to be.

Maybe someday I'll share more about why I think bringing beauty, in its many forms, into our lives and homes is what we were made to do.  It's a spiritual calling, pursued for our God and our good.  But for now, I'm just going to go stare at my plates for a while.

what's up weekly.

Well, we're about to see if quarantine will mean more or less news than usual on Fridays.  On the one hand, we're not out and about, so days have the potential to kind of run into one another.  But on the other hand, because our time isn't being pulled in a million directions, I feel more productive, and our relationships are taking front and center.  So here's to marking the launch of "What's Up Watch 2020."  We'll see what kind of changes happen around here.

I stumbled across Atticus reading a Disney princess book to Callista the other morning.  He is such a good big brother.

As for this week, it started off pretty normal.  On Friday night, Todd indulged me by letting me watch The Greatest Showman again for movie night.  (If you recall, we watched it the week before, and then I also watched it once by myself through the week.)  But this time we watched it on the big TV instead of the laptop, and dang.  There is not a single ugly second in that movie.  If you ever hear about it coming back to theaters for any reason, PLEASE TELL ME.  I want to see all the beauty in giant-size.

On Saturday morning, I went hunting for some more beauty at one of the antique malls here in town.  While I was able to hunt some down, I will tell you that antique malls are not the place to go if you're looking to be wowed.  I left feeling so. depressed.  Those places can be seriously spiritually stifling.

However, I did find some pretty things - I'll share photos next week!

Juniper turned 11 months on Saturday as well.  I can't believe how quickly the time goes.  We are now in countdown mode to her first birthday.  WHY CAN'T THEY STAY ADORABLE BABIES FOREVERRRRRR?  Oh yeah, because they have to grow up into the adorable kids they get to be after that.  It's all very exciting, but I wish it would at least slow down.

She is eating like a champ (she loves steak) and sleeping like a champ.  She claps and waves and sometimes whispers 'dada' when prompted.  I swear she also has said 'mama' and 'hi.'  She is such a peanut (she's still in 3-6 month clothing), but her hair is growing nonstop (lengthwise, not thickwise).  She is chill and smiley and beautiful and oh so snuggly.  She will sit on my lap so calmly, just chewing on a highlighter and watching the activity around her.  She is so content.  I could just smooch her until I die of Smooch Overload.

She was wiggly while we tried to take photos.

Blurry because she was on the move, but so sweet.

On Sunday, church was scheduled as normal, but a couple of the kids had runny noses so we sat it out at home.  Todd went and did the baby dedication ceremony.  We also had a baptism scheduled that morning, and afterward someone else spontaneously asked to get baptized!  God is so good - I'm so glad we didn't close the doors.

On Monday and Tuesday, life trucked along mostly as usual.  I think our schedule and routine stayed the same as always, but I have just been carrying around a heaviness about all of the panic and fear I see happening around me.  So many feelings, so many thoughts, too much to really go into here.  Let me just say it is possible to not feel afraid right now.  It is possible to feel hope and calm and peace when you look to the future.  And I don't mean that in some kind of froofy-la-la kind of way; I mean it is possible to feel actual calm.  It is possible to feel an actual lack of fear and confusion and dread.  Let's chat more about it if you want to.

Atticus' favorite activity lately is looking through the used car ads and then drawing his favorite trucks.

On Wednesday, we headed up to the Amish and listened to Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle on the way there and back.  I don't really check my phone when I'm up there, because I don't text or talk while I drive, and I'm usually too busy when I'm actually there to think to look at my phone.  When we were just a few minutes from home on our return trip, Todd called me and asked if I was okay - he had sent me multiple texts while I was gone, and I hadn't responded.

It turns out they had closed his office building until further notice, and had sent everyone home to work.  Because he walks to work, he didn't have keys on him, and he'd been waiting outside in the rain for us for over an hour.  I felt terrible.

It has been nice having him home, but it has been limiting for him.  We don't exactly have a quiet house, or a convenient place to hole up during the day to work.  He's been using our bedroom, but it still gets loud back there with babies crying and kids fighting and running around.  It's hard to answer phone calls with that kind of cacophony happening in the background.  We've liked having him here, but I think we'll be happiest when life is back to normal for him.

I will say, though, that yesterday I had to go drop something off for our medical insurance, and it was nice getting to do it by myself during naptime.  The little kids were down for naps, and the big kids were watching a movie, so things were quiet enough that I could leave the house under Todd's supervision without anyone needing anything from him while he was trying to work.  They tell me someday the biggest kids will be old enough to hold down the fort like this when I need to run little errands... that will be glorious.

And that brings us to today.  I have big plans to clean the kitchen walls and under the appliances so that I can check "deep clean the kitchen" off my to-do list.  I have spent the week slowly cleaning out cabinets and pantry shelves one at a time, wiping everything down and organizing as I go.  It has been so needed for a long time, and I'm glad I finally got around to it.

What projects have you undertaken with your quarantine time?

spring has sprung.

Well, it is March 19th, and you know what that means!

To add insult to quarantinjury, it is supposed to be stormy outside, on this The First Day of Spring, so we will likely be hunkering down while we bunker down.  Fun times.

BUT!  I can tell you this much: I have ideas stewing for next week.  I'm going to tell you how to raise non-obnoxious kids. (Hint: it involves habit training, which you should have plenty of time for over the course of the next four [-to-one-million] weeks.)  I'm going to show you the pretty dishes I bought at the antique mall before the cloud of locusts descended.  I'm going to give you a rundown of our second term of school this year.  Those are big promises, and I'm 70% confident I'll follow through.  So stay tuned.

video vednesday: do you have a pet? do you have a sweet tooth? do you believe in the power of a curse?

Okay, remember Video Vednesday?  It's time to bring it back, just for today, because I just couldn't resist.  This video killed me.  

1.  This is exactly Kids.

2.  What on earth is this guy's job?

the glad game: c'rona edition.

Penelope is reading Pollyanna right now, and has been encouraged and challenged by Pollyanna's commitment to relentless optimism.  We have been playing 'the glad game' as a result, and I thought I could invite you into what I see as the highlights of life as we know it in this season of cultural instability.

1. Quarantine.

What a great opportunity to hunker down, slow down, and get intentional.  Homeschool field trips have been cancelled, playdates have been postponed, and life is about to come back into a bit of focus.

The culture 'out there' is running around in fear, without hope, without comfort.  What a great opportunity to build a tangible picture of the gospel: God is a home-dweller, a lover of family, a lover of children.  One who laughs with joy in the face of the future.  One who builds a whole kingdom out of the tiny and mundane - the things that quickly get overlooked in our constant restlessness and busyness and outwardness.  We have the opportunity to oppose, conquer, and ultimately heal a culture of fear by building our own microcultures of Christian warmth, confidence, healing, peace, joy, education, beauty and abundance.  Right in this very moment, in the middle of an outbreak, inside our walls.  What a fantastic, rare opportunity we have had thrust into our hands.  Let's do something with it.

2. Domesticity.

What better way to spend the time stuck in the house than actually loving on the house?  Sometimes I forget that the best way to fall in love with something is to act like you love it first and allow the feelings to follow.  My kitchen has been a source of frustration for me lately, so I decided that each day I'm going to pick a cabinet or two to empty, scrub down, purge, and neaten.  I'm only a couple of days in, but it's making a big difference in my feelings.  (It also doesn't hurt that I bought some gorgeous Blue Willow plates at the antique mall this weekend, and I've just left them out on the counter to resurprise me with their beauty every time I walk in.  Even Penelope says they take her breath away.)

I also have curtain rods to install, a basement to paint, and art to hang.  I'm going to try a few new recipes.  If the weather gets nice, I can get the garage cleaned out.  I can gradually load up the back of the van so that when all of this is over, I can bring a massive donation to Goodwill and start the spring off on the right foot.

Penelope and I can get her zinnia seeds in the ground in the next few weeks.  What better time could there be than to plan to watch new life sprout?

There is always something creative and necessary to do around the house if we're actually here long enough to see it (and then committed enough to do something about what we see).  I think that's one of the reasons that Proverbs says the foolish woman's feet are never at home - we have to be in our homes to actually even know how to take care of them.  We have to live with and in them a bit before we even know what there is to do there, but once we have eyes of wisdom to see it, there is always more than enough outlet for creativity and productivity.


3.  Fun Momming.

I am not a fun mom.  I'm not a boring mom or a mean mom, but I'm not an altogether fun mom.  This might provide opportunities to strengthen that muscle a bit.  I have things on hand to make bread and cookies.  I'm going to let Penelope help me get my kombucha scoby going again.  I have a puzzle map of Europe I'm planning to get out when we're on break next week.

4.  Life as Normal.

We're blessed in the sense that our normal routine doesn't have to stop when we all stay at home.  I think there's something comforting and helpful to all of us to get to carry on as usual with our daily rhythms of productive, meaningful work, and satisfying rest.  Homeschool, popcorn parties, family movie nights, story club and family read-alouds can all carry on as though nothing is different.

5.  No Library Return Dates.

The library is closed indefinitely at this point, so I don't have to return The Greatest Showman anytime soon.  Which means I can watch it on repeat until my eyeballs fall right out of my face.  (I hope eternity on the new earth finds me slathering every last surface in buttery pastel- and jewel-toned velvets and satins and silks [oh my], and singing and dancing until my resurrected legs fall off.)


Let's play the glad game - what are you most glad about in this season?