Welcome to Courtney Academy

Our 1st day, we spent the morning cracking open brand new cirriculum, headed to meet Paw Paw & Daddy at Mellow Mushroom for lunch. YUMMM! Then ended the day at the bookstore, choosing our first book to kick off the year. It hardly seemed like work!

We have a furry friend that joins us everyday;) NO SLEEPING IN CLASS!

We've had an archeological dig, made coffee ground fossils from things found in nature, played tons of games, created karly's family tree, learned how to make a shaduf & pretty sure with our vocabulary words even my vocabulary will be growing this yr! Lol!

We are 1/2 way through our first week at Courtney Academy! Lol! And I've come to a few realizations in the past few days:

 #1-- Some people just don't 'get it'. Strangers constantly ask my 8 yr old why she's not in school, which then becomes an awkward conversation about why we homeschool & they feel the need to interrogate me about our decision & quiz my child on what she's learning...  & unknowingly make us feel like total freaks! Lol! I have to get better at this part.

#2-- Incase anyone is wondering, we are not hermits. My kids get lots of social interaction, granted it is not always with other children of the exact same age. They are surrounded with people of all ages & grades. Yes, my daughter misses seeing her BFF everyday, but she's learning good life lessons. I mean in what world do you get to see your bestie everyday? I know I don't! It makes their time together that much more special! Yes, we have to be intentional about friendships & activities but at the end of the day she gets to be involved with so many more activities now than we could ever do before simply because we have more time to do the things we love. 

#3-- homeschooling is not for the faint of heart. Being a SAHM is no joke, but holy moly, add TEACHER to the role! I'm sleeping like a baby these days! Zzzzzz!

#4-- We love it! We are able to go so much further academically & with learning styles that are best for my girls. 

#5-- We are in a transition phase. We are all learning what this looks like for our family. Not every moment is perfect. I have moments that I question myself & my ability, I have to constantly remind myself that no one cares more about my child than I do! 

#6-- Even in the hard, stressful, tired, play dough covered desk & flour covering my kitchen floor, dishes piled high, not so perfect moments that I would make this decision every time. 

 

 

 

 

Bittersweet.

Bittersweet is the word that is ringing in my head. My newsfeed filled with friends returning to school, at the school my daughter has attended since KG. A place we loved, a place she excelled, a safe place that felt a little more like home than school at times. Many of the same teachers I had growing up, friends I had made over the years, Maw maw teaches 1st grade, her Aunt teaches 6th grade, Paw paw works for the church, I worked there for many years before I ever had babies of my own, a place of friends & family. When KG came for our 1st, there was never a question where she would attend. We never had to check out other schools because we knew of this little jewel. But today has come and Karly is not starting school with her friends, we will not get to see my mom, sister, & cousins everyday. My friend, this is the bitter part. I am a little sad to not be apart of the back to school breakfast, to chat with my friends & favorite teachers; to feel the buzz & excitement for first day, new students, anxious teachers.

Circumstances change, classes change, and change seems to be the key word for this year. At the end of the year last year we left knowing we had a big decision to make. On the outside everything looked great, our oldest is very good at putting on a smile even if she is crying inside. She is my little people pleaser. We found out early on, before ever starting Kindergarden that our girl had a mind beyond her age, we made the decision to skip a grade to keep her challenged & academically it was by far the best thing we did; however socially it was a hard year. Missing friends, not feeling like she fit with new friends, feeling trapped between two grades. We watched an overly confident girl be consumed with insecurity. Academically she was excelling, and in a world consumed by academics, hold your breath when I say this, but, academics is not everything. Every child has their gift, some are incredible ball players, singers, artistic, outgoing, dancers... for my girl, it is academics. She is an excellent student & will conqueror any new concept you give her.  She has always loved to learn, every teacher she has told us what a joy she is in class because of her love of learning. Since entering KG, there were 3 teachers Karly could not wait to have, 2 of them being a given, her aunt & her maw maw ;) the other one was the 4th grade teacher. Karly literally was counting down the days to be in Mrs. Bucks class. I am not exactly sure what it was but from day one Karly loved the 4th grade teacher & could not wait to get in her class. So when we heard the the 4th grade teacher was not returning... (waahhhhh!) We knew it was not going to go over well. To make a long story short & many details that I am not willing to share, we knew it was time for us to move on. Incase you are wondering we still love Cornerstone & highly recommend it to all. It was just time that we made a change that would better suit our daughter. It was the first time ever we would have to find a school that could meet our standards, love our daughter, understand her need to be challenged... and this was no easy task! I spent nearly a month not sleeping, Literally sick to my stomach everyday.

We began calling schools, scheduling tours, conversing LOTS with each other. A little over a year ago we moved out to a semi-country life. When we toured the house Jason made the comment to me, "man this would be a perfect home-school room." I let it go in one ear & out the other. We both knew home-school would be a option, down the road! There are not a lot of schools near by, and public school is not an option for us (if you love it, I love it for you. It just doesn't work for our situation.) I am a HUGE believer that you have to do what is best for your child. each child. So whatever school you choose, if you love it & your child is excelling than I am so happy for you! After nearly losing my mind for a month (ok, longer than a month, it felt like an eternity!) On a very hot sunny summer day we left a school tour, Jason & I both liked the school, had no real concerns, even had many things we loved-- that Karly & Mere could be in the same building & the same schedule from now until 8th grade, they had a girls ball team (woot woot)... all good things. We went to lunch & I nervously asked Jason what do you think? Totally thinking that we were going to disagree on what we should do. Much to my surprise we both knew exactly what we needed to do, it was time to home-school. Since KG, our daughter, loving the school she was at, would beg throughout the year, "Mom would you please just home-school me. I want you to be my teacher!" Now I know God was preparing me for what was to come.

We are very excited about the upcoming year, its been fun letting her be apart of the planning. To help choose unit studies, places she wants to learn about, specific interest she has. I feel honored to get to take her mind to new places. To watch the light bulbs go off. I have always loved the classroom and now I get to use this passion within me to grow this beautiful mind. Our year will look very different than it has in the past, we have field trip fridays, many new groups & friends to make, our life will be a little slower, our schedule will not be determined by a ringing bell, our curriculum will not be based on what the majority should know. We will have art lessons in a donut shop, reading at quaint bookstores, gymnastics in the middle of the day, music at concerts & symphonies, science in the park, and history in museums...she will learn how to cook, do laundry, change oil in the car, build on site with dad, photography & much much more. To say we have an exciting year planned is an understatement. And this my friend is the sweet part.

A day that feels so bittersweet.

Last night, the day before school, in the past this night was filled with lots of nerves & anticipation. Packing backpacks, lunches, picking out the perfect outfit, early bedtimes & alarms sounding off the morning & the rush of the day. Instead the girls helped me cook dinner, walked the dog, ate ice-cream while watching the sunset, a beautiful warm breeze with rainbow filled clouds blew bye, a warm summer rain rushed in, so we ran to the trampoline. It thundered and rain began to fall harder & harder, all the while we laughed, jumped, laid flat on our backs, closing our eyes & opening our mouth to catch freshly fallen drops. Then stinky wet children ran inside begging for bathbombs and one more story please. It was nearly a perfect night, and during a time that feels a little bittersweet I am reminded once again why it is we made this choice. Freedom to learn, freedom to play, freedom to make time for what is most important. Looking back on the past couple years I can clearly see how God has been preparing us for this season. So although we have moments that feel a little more bitter than sweet, we know they will be followed by days of pure sweetness.

We wish all of our friends a great 1st day-- Hugging old friends, meeting new friends, nervous smiles, good students & a successful year ahead! We hope you love your teachers & your classmates, & teachers I pray each one of you has a classroom full of little angels!

Many of you have asked me to keep you in the loop of this journey we are embarking on so I plan to  blog our journey through our first year home-schooling. We start Monday, kicking off with back to school fun activities, opening new books & new curriculum, lunch with Dad at a new pizza place we have been dying to try but is always too long of a wait for dinner, so why not lunch?! (yay!! to also having Dad home with us!), and ending the day at a favorite bookstore to pick out our first read of the year! We too are nervous & excited for our first day, just for different reasons than we have had in the past :)

A couple years ago something inside of me begin to stir, it was a difficult time for our family, financially things were very hard due to circumstances out of our control; I was forced into minimal living, I begin reading blogs, articles & books about living simply, being a minimalist. I began selling, cleaning closest, donation drop offs. Somewhere between graduating college & starting a family, I got caught up in lavish living. We didn't spend tons of money foolishly but we begin accumulating "stuff". That is exactly what it was, was stuff, it had very little need or importance. Being forced into this place of less is more, I was not exactly thrilled with having to sell all my stuff, but I knew a must to survive. At the time, it was stuff or groceries. Somewhere in the journey, I developed a secret crush on this new way of living, it was freeing, as if I could breathe again. The stark realization of what is really important in life took my breath away. I would love to say that since then I have learned a perfect minimalist way of living, I have not, I constantly struggle to find that balance of wants, needs & pressures of this world.

Yet I keep coming back to it, I know my soul craves it. Where there is less stuff there is more of what I love. Recently we decided to finish our basement, which meant going through tons of boxes of things that had been packed away in our basement since the day we moved in. If you know me well you know I am in no way a hoarder- I love to throw things away, sell them, give them away, I love to get rid of them in any way I can, however, there are always certain boxes that contain things, memories, that no matter how long it has been I cannot part with them, because I truely love them. They are special, they have meaning to me, they are moments & goods that have created me to be who I am today, they remind me of the girl I used to be- scrapbooks from college, notes my sister would leave on my bathroom mirror, pictures I drew for mom, notes I wrote to my dad, even my first chick pox scab (ewwww!), the outfits I brought my babies home in, the fancy dresses they were dedicated in, the first dozen roses Jason left on my apartment door & tickets to our first concert, the night I knew that this man would be my husband, awards, achievements of all the hours I spent with my nose in books, old journals containing HUGE dreams & lofty goals for a young 16 yr old girl who was ready take on the world, seeing so many of those dreams unfolded now as I have hit my mid 30's and still so many of them tucked away in my heart, souvineers from vacations, trips, concerts, old passports, pictures of people who have came & gone in my life, so many memories. It is these moments, the ones I cannot part with that I want to become the staples of my life. I want to fill my walls literally & figuatively with things I love.

I love nature. being outside, feeling the warmth of the sun, the gently breeze, a soft rain or the crackling of thunder, the smell of fresh cut grass, a freshly fallen snow untouched by one single footprint, green stained finger tips from pulling weeds, the smell of my sweaty kids after they come in from playing outside, splashing in the pool & late night swims.

 I adore the beach, the sound of the waves crashing, the salty scented air, the sand landing in every wrinkle unimaginable. My heart jumps for joy as the first sight of the ocean. I find it so mystery, God speaks to me through the great outdoors, for as long as the eye can see, as many sands as there are on the shore that is His love for me. I am at my best when I am near water, the ocean, a lake, a backyard creek, I find all of them breath taking, I feel close to myself & even closer to the One who created me. It's as if God speaks a little louder to me or perhaps the noise of life dissipates in the crashing of the waves.

 I love creating in all facets, painting, coloring, decorating, cooking, web design, photography. My eye knows when it loves before it ever reaches my heart.

I find such contentment in knowing the things I love.

My daughters big brown eyes, I always wanted brown eyes like my mom,
The particular way my pillows have to lay each night before falling to sleep,
Holding my husbands hand before falling to sleep, the way he tucks me into his arms, shaping me into molds of his safeness & security.
Iced coffee & cherry coke, but oh how I love my iced coffee, it is one of life's greatest treats,
I love planting & watching things grow,
My oldest daughter's gentle spirit & wildly brilliant mind,
My father's obnoxious laugh, & the way my mom ends every phone call,
My sister's chocolate cake can cure any amount of heart ache & make each birthday seem like a monumental celebration,
I feel so beloved that my nieces, now all grown up still, call me "Aunt Lannie",
I love picnics with my family,
The way my husband tucks the girls into bed every night after we have said prayers,
I'm infatuated with silence, stillness, the akward that feels so comforting to me,
I long to coming home, walking into my home after a vacation or maybe just a busy day there is something so refreshing, thirst-quinching about pulling down my long drive & walking through that door,
I crave friendships without mindless chatter, the ones were you can pick up right where you left off, the ones that you can say a million words without one word actually being said,
I admire the color gray & I loved it long before it ever became a trendy color,  Neutrals are my soft spot.
I feel pretty when my legs are wearing in a good pair of heels (everyone should have at least one thing they love about themselves),
The energy after a good workout,
Thrift stores!! I feel myself come alive in a thrift store. There is something stimulating about taking junk & turning into treasure, or hunting out my most adored shirts for 50 cents.

I adore animals, (I guess I know where my 8 yr old gets it from), wether it is a frog stuck in the pool skimmer or a horse galloping through a field I can sit & watch them for hours, hold them, pet them. Since I was a young child I always felt more connected to animals then to humans, I think it was because they never required me to share my thoughts, they just loved my presence,

I have a passion to organize, simplify, a need for systems & structure, much like my appreciation for rules.
I love a sparkly kitchen.
I am absolutely fascinated with old barns- the stories, the history, if walls could talk, hard work & simple lives.
I lust for my husbands amazing dark brown, nearly black hair. I prayed that one of our girls would get his head of hair. It is so luscious, and I am so envious.
I find freedom in convertibles & motorcycles, I love the wind in my hair as if all my worries just blow away into the wind.

I am smitten with holidays, the decorating, the baking, the planning, the dysfunctional families, the excitement, the joy, the loudness, the smells. the craziness, the prep & cleaning, the thrill of surprise, the magic, the love, the sacrifice to make it all possible, I just love holidays.

I'm drawn to arrows, their shape, meaning & reminders to me. If you break an arrow it can never fly the way it was designed to, it will miss the target, its destiny will forever be changed. An arrow that cannot fly on its own, but required to be pulled back in order to fly & if it's handler has skilled himself, he can send that arrow flying to hits its target.

 I love being a mom, I was designed specifically for this job & these two little ladies-- I love snuggles on the couch, late night talks, I love they way they smell, the feel of their hair, how different they are, how each one of them is challenging & easy in their own specific ways, I love their laughter & the love they share. I love being the ones to kiss their booboo's & dry their tears.

I prefer pony tails & being barefoot,
I love old comfy t-shirts & wood burning fireplaces, wind chimes & bird watching,
Sleeping with the windows open & weekends spent in a tent.
Hearing my husband come home after being away, weekly date nights & snuggling up at 9pm to eat snacks & watch our favorite shows.
I delight in photos & relish the nostalgia of old photographs.
My soul finds comfort in routine, similar to that of cherry pie & ice-cream.

These are my boxes filled of items so dear to my heart, the beloved things I cannot throw away. it often feel like life is trying to push out my wants, desires & loves, to fill my boxes with material stuff & surface level relationships. I am rebelling from all the stuff from society, magazines, trends & social media telling me what I should like, what pins I might pin, who I should friend, what stores I should shop at & what memories need to be made.

No, I am not selling everything to live in a little log cabin off the grid (though that does intrigue me), but, I am lining my walls with only the things that make me happy, that soothe my soul, the quirky, the old, the shabby & not so chic, the moments that matter, I will spend my time with those who love the animal adorning, rolling in the grass, frog chasing, camping girl who lives inside of me and spend less time with the ones that make me feel less than, I am vowing to spend more time in silence & loving the simple. My boxes might seem like trash to someone else but to me they are the priceless treasures I want to hold on to forever & apologize for no more. It it time to blown off the dust & unpack...

Red Countertops

One of the first things my daughter asked for when putting together our schedule for this year was a cooking class. We have done cooking classes before and she loves them. What kid doesn't want to be a Master Chef Jr?! I could have done what I have done in the past and picked up the phone to schedule a class at Eckerts or Schnucks & honestly I highly considered it! Seriously who wants to clean the kitchen after your little chef has been 'creating their masterpiece'? ugh! Honestly I get great joy out of a sparkly clean kitchen.

Then I remembered how much I treasured cooking & baking with my mom growing up. The first meal I ever made my husband was taught to me in that kitchen with bright red counter tops & a country apple border. My mind can slip back there so effortlessly as if it were yesterday and yet it has been nearly 2 decades since I have lived at home with my parents (yes, I left the nest a bit early ;)  I smile over the memories, lots of chats, politics, disagreements over clothes, boys, friendships, school work, sisters, creating dishes with my middle sister, snow day cookies, holiday cookies, late night pazookie, home-made french fries & fried zucchini will forever be my comfort food,... So many sweet memories I have come from a simple kitchen with less than impressive kitchen gadgets; handheld mixers, dull knives, old stained cookie sheets, plates patterned with apples & green checkers (Mom, if you are reading I need one of these plates for my plate wall). In a moment of sweet bliss as my mind pulled some of my favorite moments, some that made me chuckle, some embarrassing, humbling, hilarious, but each one deeply embedded into my heart.

My recollection came to a screeching halt and my heart gridlocked for a moment as my mind soared through these beloved, treasured moments; I can not for the life of me remember if I ever cleaned that red kitchen, I don't recall ever scrubbing a pot, loading the dishes, filing the utensils away, wiping the flour off the counter, or scrubbing the oil splatters off the back splash. Maybe my mind is failing me but I don't even remember my mom asking me to clean up the monstrosity. I know some of you are already judging her parenting... she was not teaching you responsibility if she didn't make you clean it up.... blah blah blah...Or maybe she saw the bigger picture, the picture I so greatly desire to see. She saw that cooking was so much more than cooking. That 20 years later I would wish I could go back for just one night & sit on those hard wooden chairs, and I would hang on her every word, I would see what she saw in me. It has nothing to do with the dicing & measuring but had everything to do with the sharing that happens around the table That in this deranged life, you have to take the small moments & make them monumental. Cooking was partaking in each other's life. She didn't care that the dishes were clean, she cared that our hearts were unsoiled, the pot could sit & soak and the pot would eventually come clean, but our souls could be tarnished, the sugar & the flour could spill because in those moments she got to pour out her love on me, even if it was just for a few minutes while we sat on the red counter waiting for the cookies to finish baking.

I recently had a conversation with my husband. I was going through a difficult time & told him about how growing up my mom would always make me home made french fries late at night. I was having a homemade french fry kinda night. No, a big ol' bowl of greasy taters certainly would not going to help my thighs but it sure did always make my soul feel better. Call me an emotional eater ;) LOL. I totally get why it is called soul food. Hey, we all have our weakness, for some its ice-cream, for me its anything fried. The thing is it has nothing at all to do with the food, but the memories & love that surround the food. It was that at midnight, while she could have been sleeping, she would chop up a real potato (not that out of the bag imitation potato stuff), heat up the pan, make the yummiest treats ever & it was usually followed by a late night talk. Funny the things we take for granted.

So when my 8 yr old asked for a cooking class, my mind took a detour. I said, how about we pick a night and we can cook together? She really liked that idea and wanted to plan the menu. My kitchen may look like a bomb went off, my pots & pans may loose their sparkle, and my knives may be dull but maybe just maybe it will be so much more than cooking, maybe she will share with me the bombs in her life, she'll pour out the days that steal her sparkle or the moments I can sprinkle a little more sparkle back into her, and hopefully she will find love & comfort in the dull moments, that the dull moments in life are often the ones that hold the greatest memories, like those 10 minutes sitting on the red counter.

Unrushed Soul

Pulling the plug.
Off the grid.
Unrushed.
Old fashion.
Minimalist.
Silence.

Call it whatever you want, after reading a book awhile back called, The Best Yes, which totally changed my life (highly recommend it!), my word of choice is "unrush" -- I recently have been at war with myself; struggling with glorified busyness and left yearning for solitude. I am not sure when exactly busy became a positive verb, as if the busier your schedule then the better more productive your life is. I have wrestled with this idea for a couple years now. Constantly struggling to find that perfect balance.Two years ago at a very specific time in my life I felt God calling me to live "unrushed". it came from my daughter who was always telling me, "Mom quit rushing me!"(To my defense, if she has it her way it would take her 2 hrs to get her shoes on. She moves at her own speed and that speed is slow.) However, I felt so convicted, that on a daily basis I was placing my need to have a tight schedule over my daughter's feelings. Many days by the time we got into the car, she was in tears and I had boulders of guilt weighing on me. Did it really matter if we were 10 min late to the event we were headed to?, was it the end of the world if we didn't make it to church 10 min early to make sure we had plenty of time to get the kids checked in? Would my friends be mad if I was 15 min late to a 'playdate'?....Why was I valuing rush over relationship? That was the first moment God spoke to my heart & told me to UNRUSH my life. I would love to say that 2 years later I have it all figured out & I wish I could share the perfect formula to unrush your life. Sorry to disappoint. that is not the case, I am still trying to iron out all my wrinkles, yet constantly reminded to unrush.

I recently was reminded of this at church, an entire sermon based solely on "How Loud is Your Life?" Did I listen. NOPE. I made excuses:
 I have 2 kids, I work from home, the majority of my customers come from social media, I work with my husband, I am a new homeschool mom, I have lessons to plan, activities to schedule, groups to join, new adventures to explore, making sure my kids were in the best camps, I have to clean, cook... and summer is running out so I have to squeeze every last ounce of fun into our days....
I kept on with MY schedule, running the hamster wheel, ignoring the sweet soft tug on my heart.

This week it all begin to catch up to me. Hurricane LeAnn. The stress, the anxiety, the noise, the rush, the frustration, the fear, the guilt, the discontent, until I finally just had a breakdown- maybe its my make up, maybe my introverted self can only take so much but I found myself in my bed tears coming faster than I could control, feeling out of control. unleashing it all. and then I felt that tug on my heart again. unrush your heart.

"I don't want my life to be so crowded that I'm nothing more than a commercial for crazy"

Why do we feel pressured to live among the norm? The norm who cannot stand the silence, who's home is anything but peaceful, who is more worried about impressing their neighbor than impressing Jesus, the norm who has to be rushed to feel good about themselves, the norm who glorifies the days they are exhausted & have nothing left to give to the people who matter most? The norm who spends more time on social media than they do quality time with their loved ones? The norm who can't go through dinner without checking their phones. Who has to check text at stoplights... (yes I am guilty) I don't know about you but I do not want my kids to grow up & their memory of me to be, Mom with a phone in my hand wishing that I would just play with them. I want my husband to know that he comes before any phone call or email. How ironic it is that boredom is now suddenly a luxury.

A year ago we moved out to "the country" of so it seems. One of my most favorite things to do is work in our yard; not because I love pulling weeds or because I am that great of a gardener, but simply because when I walk outside I can hear nothing but sweet stillness- the birds singing, the frogs crocking, the wresting of the leaves, crickets chirping, nothing even slightly resembles that of a rushed life. It only takes a few minutes of quieting my soul that I am reminded of the importance of life.

"Don't let busyness make you miss the blessing of divine interruptions."--Terkeurst


So I am challenging myself for the next couple weeks, maybe longer, I don't really know for how long. I am going off the grid. Pulling the plug, going back to the good ol' days, finding the silence in my life. Living life interrupted by what matters. I refuse to live my life in a rhythm of rush. At the end of everyday I want to know "It Is Well With My Soul"