Portraiture

Beth has been working on her art skills. Her siblings have been her unwitting models.

I love how she showed her series of practice portraits on Faith's drawing. Faith has been asking me to let her dye her hair. I think this shade of blue looks stunning on her. 

Beth really captured Todd's personality in the expression on his face in this one. I don't think she missed a single freckle! He does have two ears in real life, though. I know - I counted them when he was born!

Apparently Beth only sees Kyle in black and white. And he doesn't even get a name banner or hearts on his page. At least she still sees him as human, though....

because she apparently thinks Todd is a little bit "squirrely."

Extortion in Church

As we sat in church yesterday, I noticed Kyle and Beth passing notes. When they went up to the front for the children's sermon, I read the notes and discovered a hot bed of extortion and conspiracy.

I suppose it started out innocently enough. Kyle wanted some more paper to draw on, but he wasn't asking for it very nicely.

Beth responded with a terse "no", wherein Kyle proceeded with his extortion tactics.

This apparently did not sit well with Beth, who threatened to blow the whole thing wide open with an ill-timed screaming match.

She even drew a picture to let Kyle know how this would not be pretty.

Thank goodness the Children's Sermon began when it did. Who knows how far they would have taken this!

My Doppelganger... almost

I don't have pictures with me right now, but if you put the women in my family in a room full of unrelated people and then asked a stranger to pick out which of us was related, the stranger would have no problem figuring it out. My mom and her sisters, while different in many ways have facial structures that clearly define their relationship. My aunts' daughters look like their mothers as much as I look like mine. My mom came to visit a few months ago, and she walked into church before I did and people who had never seen or met her knew exactly who she had to be by looking at her.

I spent my whole life assuming my daughters would look like me as well. It just seemed obvious to me. Boy, was I wrong. Except for Chet, who is the spitting image of my brother, my kids look like their dad and grandparents. They have their dad's ears, his curly hair, his height, his long feet, his father's eyes.  Kyle, with the exception of my green eyes and freckled nose, looks exactly like Jack. Faith doesn't look just like Jack, but she doesn't look like me either. (When she was little, she told people we adopted her from a family in the North Pole. I like to tease her and tell her she looks like her polar bear cousins.)

As a baby, Beth looked like another cookie-cutter version of her dad. But something has happened as she is growing. She is starting to look like, dare I say it... me. Oh she still has those ears her dad has imposed on his kids, and she has my mom's brown eyes (although they show the signs of turning green like mine did), but she has my nose. She has those lines around my mouth. Her hair is the same color mine was at her age. She is  starting to grow some of my freckles, and she even has the same cowlicks I do. And those cheekbones, those cheekbones that I associate with the women in my family, they are mine.

They are my mom's cheekbones. And my aunts'. And my gramma's. And my great-gramma's.

And for some reason, that really struck me when I saw this picture Faith took of Beth and I the other night. It makes me wonder about unanswerable things, such as how many generations in my matriarchal line previously have passed those cheekbones to their daughters'.

I think the frog-obsession come's from Jack's side, though. I can't take the credit for everything!

She'll never be a farmgirl.

To date, my daughter has lived less than half of her life in a city, and the rest in the mountaintop country. She has learned many farming and agriculture terms out here, but that doesn't necessarily mean they have all sunk in. Sometimes the call of the city is just too strong to override a countrified education.

Occasionally we wake up to the escaped horses grazing on our front property. As long as the escapee isn't  MY horse, this is a fine and pleasant way to wake up. I love watching them ramble around.

So does Beth. "Look, Mommy," she called and pointed. "They brought their calves with them!"

While she may be a renowned herpetologist when it comes to frogs, I think it is apparent that her equestrian vocabulary needs a little work.

Patience is a Virtue

The elementary school focuses on a positive character trait every month, and then awards certificates to the kids whose teachers select them for modeling that trait. These are called the Kid With Character awards. January's word was patience. In January all three of my little kids were independantly chosen to receive the Patience award.

Ironically, January had so much snow that the monthly assembly was cancelled. The kids had to be patient and wait until February's assembly to be recognized. When Beth was called to the stage for her award, she could hardly contain her excitement and was beaming from ear to ear.


After passing out the awards, the principal commented on how impressive it was that all 3 of the Wellborn kids were chosen for the patience reward, particularly since the teachers don't discuss their selections with each other. She said something about asking Jack and I how we raised patient children.

I suspect it has more to do with having so many brothers and sisters than it has to do with any one thing we have taught them. With six siblings sharing everything (bathrooms, bedrooms, vehicles etc) you pretty much HAVE to learn to wait your turn. Add to that a zero tolerance policy for hitting/kicking/wrestling and you have a pretty good recipe for raising some fairly patient kids.

As proud as we are of all of them though, we had to laugh when they were all chosen for this award. It is obvious that none of their teachers have ever seen them have to wait their turns for the video games.

Congratulations, my little ones. We are proud of you and love you!

My Extra-Terrestrial

Do you remember the scene in the E.T. movie where Mike and Gertie find E.T. and Gertie starts screaming? Then E.T. thinks it is a game and starts shrieking back at her? Then everyone hears the mom coming, and Elliott tells them to hide? Then the mom comes in the room, and Mike is covering Gertie's mouth and the camera pans across to E.T. hiding amongst the toys? Then Elliott tells his mom he was reorganizing the closet?

This scene.



Beth decided to reorganize her frogs today. Unlike the movie mom, I noticed the strange creature hiding amongst the toys as soon as I walked in the room.

After the mom left his room, Elliott told his siblings, "I'm keeping him."

I'm definately keeping her. Even if the men in white coats do show up here.

The Weekend Kids

There is a group of kids we call our "weekend kids." At any given point, one or more of them are at our house or our kids are off to their houses. I lined everybody I could get gathered up for this photo, but these aren't all the kids we had over this weekend. At one point, there were 12 kids total on the premises. Yes, it makes things a bit chaotic, but I really like my kids' bestfriends and don't mind having them over. I just need to get a sound-proof and padded room installed at some point.


Beth was worried about getting to see Santa, so when we found out he would be visiting our local hardware store this weekend we loaded up all of the full-time and weekend kids who wanted to see him and headed into town.

Beth was a bit hesitant at first, but her desire to share her Christmas wish with Santa soon overrode her innate shy nature.

She climbed up, got settled, and posed for the official picture.


Then it was time for the serious business. Santa asked her if she was good this year, and without missing a beat she told him she was. Then he asked her what she wanted for Christmas. She looked that jolly old elf straight in the eye and said, "A frog house."

Yes, she wants a frog house. Just like a dollhouse, but made for frogs. Santa looked at her and said, "I don't get many requests for frog houses!"

I just laughed to myself and quietly said, "I am sure you don't!"

She dresses herself

Dear Kindergarten Teacher,

I made an unexpected trip the week before school started. This left me with a lot of work to make up, so I have been going in very early to get work done and make up hours. Therefore, Jack has been in charge of getting the small people ready for school, and he firmly believes in letting our baby show her independant spirit. (Never mind the fact that he is colorblind and lacks any sort of fashion skills. The man has worn Wranglers and polo shirts for the entire 18 years I have known him.) So on the days that she shows up to school in sundresses and knee highs with slip-on tennies,with her curls flying in every which way, please know this. It truly isn't my fault. (Although I do think the Punky Brewster look is pretty cute on her.)

Sincerely,
A Tired Mom

PS.... Am I dating myself with the Punky Brewster reference?

Life Lessons

Dear Beth,

On Saturday you went with Jessica and Brandon on a bike ride. However, instead of riding Todd's bike, you pushed it along and ran next to it. When you got back from your bike "ride" you asked your dad to teach you to ride it. You did not want to wait for training wheels, or even your own bike. You had places to go and you were willing to make do with what was at hand.

Your daddy helped you sit on the bike. He talked to you about balancing. If you lean too far in one direction you topple over. He showed you how to use the handlebars to steer. There are potholes in our road you will need to know how to avoid. He taught you how to use the brakes. Sometimes you have to slow down to make it around an obstacle. Sometimes you just have to stop completely and go back to where you were or find a new path.

He stood behind you and kept his hand on the seat as you tested out the things he taught you. He helped you balance. He encouraged you to give it your best shot. He promised you he wouldn't let you fall down while he was in charge of keeping you upright.


And then you started pedaling away, slowly at first. You gained momentum, and you hollered out, "Don't let go, Daddy!" and he told you he was right there with you.

Then you came to a point where you didn't need his protective hand to keep you going, even though you didn't know it yourself yet. He ran along behind you and guided you and called out encouragement, and then he did what all daddies have to do at some point. He gave you the guidance and knowledge you needed, and then... he let go and let you do it on your own. He knew you might crash. He knew you would probably hit a pot hole. He knew you might look back and get nervous, but he let you go so you could learn how to ride.

A few moments later you realized you were doing it all on your own... heading down that road using your own balancing skills and wobbling a bit here and there. You glanced back and noticed your daddy wasn't holding on, but was instead watching you carefully and cheering you on. Then you waivered a bit in your confidence, and the bike started wobbling, and your feet went down, and you thought you were crashing. That is when your dad jumped in to help slow you down, got you balanced again, and then sent you on your way.

That is, after all, that is what daddies were created to do.

It's that time of year...

where the buses fire up their engines, the teachers gear up their lesson plans, and the students return to school. When it came time to round my kids up for the traditional first-day-of-school photos, Matt could not be found. He had tried to leave early to ride his bike to school, but Sammy couldn't stand to see him go and had followed him halfway there. Thanks to a loyal dog, my reluctant teenager returned home in time to be photographed.

The other kids got ready and gathered together willingly for group and individual shots.

There is something different about this school year. This year, we sent our baby off to Kindergarten. I don't have any babies, toddlers, or pre-schoolers at home anymore. It is the end of an era for us, and I am more than a little sad about it. Beth, however, couldn't wait to leave her sentimental mom behind and race forward into her education.


Her daddy and brothers escorted her to her classroom, and after she met her teacher we took her to have breakfast and dropped the boys off at their rooms along their way.

Kyle, bless his sweet, tender heart, did not want to go to school again this year. He loves school, but he hates leaving us. He wants to spend all day with his dad fixing things and being mechanical. Fortunately, he made it through the day without any 911 calls home or to my office, and has already gotten over his initial trepidation.

Todd hopped right into class, found his seat, and climbed on in backwards, thus the straddled look he is sporting here in his chair. There wasn't any reluctance on his part to go to school. This boy flies into every experience with arms wide open.

We finally got Beth and her supplies tucked into her classroom, and then I sadly bade her goodbye. I still haven't recovered from leaving her there. I was ready at noon to go pick her up, but Jack wouldn't let me. He took me to lunch instead, and I must admit that was fun, but I was still extremely relieved when I saw her bouncing off the bus that afternoon and flying into my arms!

There are lots of things Beth likes about Kindergarten so far. However, the best part, in her eyes, is that the school has............................. are you ready for it???? ............................



FROGS!


Have a good year, my small and tall peoples. I love you all!

Weeds and Wildflowers

The first time we were here to see the area, I fell in love with all the wildflowers that grow free and wild all along the roadways in the Ozarks, and they are still one of my top-ten favorites about this place. I found all of these today on our road, but there are tons and tons of them all over the countryside right now. Mother Nature really knows how to grow a garden!








The best part of these nature walks to take pictures of the flowers I love so much is being joined by a little girl who loves to gather and admire God's handiwork too. Bones doesn't care as much about the wildlfowers, but she does enjoy the oportunity to sneak a quick lick in here and there. The melancholy part for me is that little girls and puppies grow faster than the weeds and wildflowers do.

Frog World

"Mom, get your camera!! We built a Frog World!"
This was how Kyle summoned me outside Sunday afternoon. The torrential rain has finally repented enough that the kids get to play outside regularly again, and as you may recall, there isn't much in this world that Beth loves as much as trying to relocate frogs from the outside to the inside. She roped her two brothers into giving her their toy bucket and helping her build a home for the three baby frogs she caught that morning. (Their names are Rosie, GiGi, and Theo if you are wondering.)
Other than the fact that they really don't have a foodsource (some details aren't that important), they appear to have it made in their Frog World. (I am not randomly capitalizing. I was informed that this is indeed officially named Frog World.) With a dirt field on one side and a mini pond that is dammed with a piece of scrapwood propped on a stick and a little patch of plucked grass, what amphibian wouldn't want to live here??

Apparently Rosie doesn't. And unfortunately for her, she is smaller than a nickel and hasn't quite developed the hopping prowess she will need to get herself out of Frog World.Yet.

That evening Crystal (married to Nathan) called and asked me to go for a walk with her. She came over, and as we walked down the backroads I found a mud puddle full of tadpoles. The next night I took the kids on a walk with me and knew I needed to show Beth that puddle.

We found lots of other lovelies on that walk. There were wildflowers of all kinds blooming.


We found this awesome old barn we will have to return to for some photos.
We even found wild blackberries and plucked a couple of handfuls of the fully ripe ones.
But nothing was as perfectly perfect as that mud puddle full of tadpoles. Some had already morphed into little frogs and were hopping around the edges. Several of those were quickly scooped up for relocation to Frog World.
I don't really understand the attraction. What makes these things so irresistable to a little girl? I had to firmly tell Beth that she was not allowed to stuff her pockets and my blackberry bowl full of wiggly tadpoles to keep in her bedroom. (They aren't old enough to live in Frog World yet.)
That didn't stop her from trying, though. I have no idea where she gets such a stubborn streak. (I jest... she gets it completely from her father.)
If finding the tadpoles wasn't enough, discovering a close-by mud puddle full of frog eggs nearly on the verge of becoming tadpoles really made her day. She really begged me to let her scoop those out and cart them home. I had to make rule number 576 I never thought I would have to make. If you find eggs you didn't spawn yourself, you are not allowed to bring them home to live in your bedroom. Period.
Sometimes I worry that Beth is going to kiss a lot of boys to see if they turn into frogs.