tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42332200693221362902024-03-13T16:56:35.758-05:00Barefoot in the OzarksMichele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-74901840220810530442013-04-01T14:10:00.000-05:002013-08-24T08:56:24.528-05:00Latham Family Adventures: An Introduction<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: BatangChe;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was obvious to me, quite early on, that the little Latham children were going to be adventurers. There were five of them in all, and they were spaced closely in age so that they resembled stair steps when they stood in a line from youngest to oldest. I noticed sly glances and secret nods passing between the children while they were still quite young. As they grew, the plots and schemes began to take shape in the form of wonderful, imaginative games. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: BatangChe;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am only the mom, an outsider of sorts, but I wish to make record of the children’s exploits. I will not attempt to put them in chronological order, but rather, to write them down as they come forward in my memory (you know, the little Lathams are almost grown now!). My hope is that these stories will bring smiles and maybe even inspire other little children to create adventures of their own.</span></span></div>
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-45467960221432265182013-03-27T10:57:00.000-05:002013-08-24T08:58:55.021-05:00Latham Family Adventures: The Grapevine Kingdom<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> The Latham children loved the woods. There, they found many things to inspire adventure. Wildlife was plentiful. They observed snakes, deer, snapping turtles, and even a stray armadillo! But the trees and other growing things were the most magical. There were oak, walnut, sassafras, and cedar trees. Many were old and gnarled and provided wonderful hiding places and climbing toys. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One area of the woods was a favorite among the little Lathams. The Grapevine Kingdom. Here, was a patch of trees covered with grapevines. The vines seemed to rise unsupported from the ground. They curled and twisted their way to the lowest branches of the trees. Such a beautiful, tangled maze was woven as the vines intersected the branches and trunks. Where I saw a masterpiece of natural beauty, the Little Lathams saw the world’s best jungle gym.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The vines, some of them three inches in diameter, were perfect for swinging. The children clamored over them searching for the ideal swing. Many of the vines weren’t secure enough or flexible enough. It took many tries and a quantity of bumps and bruises before finding the best vine swings. Then the rest of the afternoon was spent in Grapevine Kingdom. The children laughed and screamed. They took turns swinging till their hands were raw.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A day at the park, filled with fancy play equipment, couldn’t compete with the fun they had in the woods. I know because I saw their faces when they came tearing down the path that first day. They were sweaty and covered with scratches. They were all talking at the same time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Mom, you won’t believe the grapevines!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We’re swinging on them!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Grapevine Kingdom</i>!!”</span></div>
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-81842220998768334042013-02-04T19:52:00.000-06:002013-02-04T19:52:12.445-06:00Latham Family Adventures: The Farm<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> The Little Lathams loved running and playing all over our 20 acres of
Ozark country. In the process, they found a few spots that were just so
amazing! One of these places was quite a distance from our house. We came
across it while on a family hike exploring the property. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> We were deep in the woods. It was dark and
cool there, even in the heat of summer. The trees and vines were beautiful and
mysterious. The kids scampered about hopping up on stumps and fallen trees.
They called to each other pointing out forest treasures and the occasional wild
critter. Then suddenly, we stepped from one magical world into another. A small
clearing opened up before us. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> We hadn’t noticed, but our hike had been
taking us up a gentle slope so that we ended up on the top of a hill. The
children fell silent as they stepped into the sunshine and looked around. Then
the spell was broken as they scattered to explore the place. It was a pretty
meadow, circular in shape and sprinkled with wild flowers. The interesting part
for the Little Lathams was the area around the edge of the clearing where the
trees grew thin.
It looked as if giants had played a game of dodge ball and left rocks strewn about as evidence. Some were as big as boulders, embedded in the ground
and surrounded by smaller rocks forming little nooks and hiding places. The
kids loved it and didn’t want to leave that afternoon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Belwe Lt BT;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Belwe Lt BT;"> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">They went back the next day and many days
after. They began calling their special place “The Farm”. Finally, one day, I
was invited on a hike up to see what they had been doing. As we neared the
clearing, I saw what looked like a miniature homestead. The children had
built rock walls, a foot high, marking off different areas of the farm. There was the outline of a cottage, garden, and various out buildings. As they
took me on a tour, I was amazed to see all the details the farm hands had included. A stove in the kitchen, stacked fire wood, a chicken coop (complete with
nesting boxes) and even garden tools were all there!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Nestled in the dappled shade, it looked homey and inviting. Everything was fashioned from materials found there in the clearing. </span><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">The colors and shapes blended naturally to make the Farm look as if it were part of the landscape. The children used sticks, branches, vines, dirt and so
many of those amazing Ozark rocks. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Gardeners
and farmers in our part of the world cursed the rocks each spring, as a
new crop rose from the earth to be toted away before planting could take place.
But on this day, I was grateful for those rocks and the little hands that
used them to make something so beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span>Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-54633032528930975762013-01-28T09:02:00.000-06:002013-08-24T09:03:26.901-05:00Latham Family Adventures: Library Excursion<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"> <span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Ah, a day
at the library! And I do mean a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">day</i>! After
all, a 45 minute drive to the nearest library, with five children packed in the
van, made for a pretty grand outing. As soon as the Little Lathams walked
through the doors of the library, they scattered to different corners of the
stacks. Some went straight to the fairy tales, another to the chapter books and
yet another went in search of non-fiction. He was in need of instructions for
something such as how to do magic tricks or how build a live animal trap. The
possibilities were endless! There were new authors to look for, the next volume
in a beloved series, or some new interest that needed exploring. We always had
list in hand.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Then there was the treasure-hunt aspect of
the library trip. This entailed just wandering the rows, stopping to look at
illustrations that caught the eye or an exciting title, all the while hoping to
come across some new gem. The search was quite time-consuming, as the Little Lathams took the selection of their books very seriously. The
children always left with arms full and spirits high in anticipation of what
was waiting inside the covers of those beloved volumes.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">The ride home was silent, everyone busily
flipping pages and trying to decide which book to read first. That is, unless
we happened to find a CD of a wonderful book read aloud. When this was the case, the
children sat listening, each with a stack of precious books on his lap, engrossed
in a story which made the long drive home seem like seconds. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">Many pieces of clean laundry remained
unfolded and many projects were unfinished during the first few days following
a trip to the library. The books <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had </i>to
be explored and at least one of the stories we planned to read aloud together <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had </i>to be started. And the adventures
which resulted from the reading of the books … let’s just say life at our house
wouldn’t have been the same without those trips to the library.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></b></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-5416432642854256542013-01-23T07:09:00.000-06:002013-04-04T08:11:15.635-05:00A Lesson from God<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ng9CzWCCso/UP_yCKM51pI/AAAAAAAAABE/xiB0h3XtlNU/s1600/hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ng9CzWCCso/UP_yCKM51pI/AAAAAAAAABE/xiB0h3XtlNU/s200/hands.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
have trouble sometimes understanding spiritual matters. I pray and read and
attend church, but I struggle to grasp some of the loftier ideas. Then once in
a while, God shows me something so simple that I smack my head. Of course it
would be wonderful to understand the many layers of Christ’s teachings, but
perhaps the basics are enough for me to handle right now. And what better way
to get something through my thick skull than to use parenting as the example.
After all, that’s what I do. That’s what I am… a parent. I can identify.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My latest lesson came about during the current
stage of my life. If you have older kids, you know the stage I mean. Some of
the hands-on part of parenting is tapering off and I’m watching our five
children begin to live their lives as young adults.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three are college-age living in different
towns and two are still in high school. This year, everyone was home for
Thanksgiving, Christmas and several other weekend breaks. We’ve always had great
family time. We love the holiday rituals which have been in place since the
kids were young. We enjoy talking, eating, and laughing together. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, for the last year or so I have been
anxiously watching my offspring. Specifically, I’m watching their relationships
with each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’m wondering about those days and months
between the festivities. I can’t help but notice the siblings are moving in
very different directions. Will they stay in touch? Will they go out of their
way to be interested in each others’ lives? Will they call on one another for
help? Will they offer help without being called? I hope…I pray they do all
these things. I see them beginning to and it makes me feel so much love for
them. It makes me feel happy and proud and so blessed. My husband and I have
loved and cherished them, now they are following our example with each other.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then,
it dawned on me. As God’s children, this is exactly what we must do. Love one
another. Look out for our brothers and sisters. God has loved us and taught us
how to love. He has protected us and blessed us and now it’s our turn to
reflect those things by loving one another. As strongly as I want my children
to care for each other, how much more does our Father in heaven want His children
to do the same? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So
let’s collectively smack our heads and start living in a manner that is
pleasing to God, our Father. Let’s be good sons and daughters. By staying in
touch, being interested in one another, helping out when needed even when our
lives take us in different directions. It is so simple and so right.<o:p></o:p></span>Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-61044411929570356172013-01-18T13:38:00.000-06:002013-01-18T13:38:58.719-06:00Latham Family Adventures: The Giant Bride<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dress-up box started out small. The
Little Lathams were young when they began collecting various items to use for
costumes. It didn’t take long before the box spilled over with hats, capes,
gloves, shoes; just about anything that could be used to transform a kid into
someone or something else.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span>Many times, the wearing of a costume was
impromptu, spur of the moment. Somebody needed to wear wings while he jumped
from the top of the swing set, for example. But other times, a very detailed
scenario was being acted out. When this was the case, the costume was of upmost
importance. A big part of the fun was in the preparation. And many times, the
dressing up took longer than the game itself.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day, a fancy bridal gown made its way
to the dress-up box. Thus began a string of weddings at our house. Whenever the
little Latham girls could beg, coax, or bribe their brothers to participate,
there would be a wedding. Usually, festivities would include music, flower
petals strew all over the living room floor, and a beautiful little bride, her
ornate gown trailing six feet behind her. The boys donned their gentleman coats
and suffered through a very short wedding.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came a period of time when the bridal
gown didn’t show up for a while. I’m guessing the boys had their fill of nuptial
fun and were interested in more manly activities. That is why I was slightly
surprised one afternoon when I heard that there was to be a wedding. The
announcement was preceded by a good 45 minute session of giggling and snorting
coming from behind a closed bedroom door. I stepped back to watch the flower
girls throw some fluffy white stuff around on the carpet, then turned to see
what would happen next. My mouth dropped open when I saw the bride! Coming
through the door in the beautiful white dress was the littlest Latham <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">boy</i>! <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And</i>
he was six feet tall<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">! And</i> he was
acting a little drunk, stumbling and bumping into things! The entire wedding
party was laughing hysterically when the bride crumpled to the floor. The crash
revealed another little Latham, under the silk and lace who had been walking
blindly with his brother on his shoulders!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily, I had a camera handy. I was able
to snap a photo. I have it to this day. It's tucked away from the hands of anyone who may want to rid the world of evidence of that very funny, giant, boy bride!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></b></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-74799133361354836562012-12-05T08:07:00.001-06:002012-12-05T08:07:18.092-06:00Latham Family Adventures: Poor People<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> The Little Lathams
were fascinated by the idea of being “poor”. Being too young to realize the
heartbreak of true poverty, they based their ideas on the stories we read
together. Many folk and fairy tales feature clever characters that must rely
solely on wit and ingenuity to survive. These characters not only seemed to
have a multitude of adventures, but many times they turned out to be the heroes
of the stories.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So was the mind-set when the children set
out to play a game they called “Poor People”. Barefoot and dressed in raggedy
clothes, the only thing they took was a basket or bag for gathering. They left
me with some advice, “Be careful what you leave outside…there might be poor
people around who would take things from your yard.” “Yeah, like lemonade!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Off they went to fend for themselves. It
was a scraggly group sneaking around in the garden. They gathered green beans
from the vine, onions and anything else that looked ripe enough to eat! (They
consumed more vegetables as poor people than they did at the dinner table!).
Sooner or later the poor people ended up at the huge patch of wild blackberries
at the edge of the property. There, they feasted until their fingers were
stained purple. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next, they decided it was getting dark.
The poor people would have to bed down for the night. They chose a spot under
the trees and curled up, five in a row. They pretended to sleep through a long night (about 10 minutes). <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At some point in the day, I rambled outside
with a jug of lemonade and some cups. I settled at the picnic table for a
while, and then suddenly realized that I had left something in the house. I ran back
in completely forgetting about my lemonade! It didn’t take long before five
dirty faces peered around the tree trunks along the edge of the woods. Two of
the motley figures dashed into the yard. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They made off with the goods and disappeared
back into the trees with the others cheering them on.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hansel and Gretel would be proud! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></b></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-32334024296869346312012-12-01T18:00:00.000-06:002012-12-02T13:09:29.809-06:00Small People Love Small Places<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
was a great day when my husband brought home a big, empty box from the
appliance store! There were three preschoolers in the family at the time and
they took one look and knew just what they wanted. They wanted to be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">inside</i> that box! The cardboard lasted a
couple of weeks before falling to bits. It became a play house, pirate ship,
and school bus. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then
there was the two month period when my daughter practically lived in the wooden
cradle we brought home for her soon-to-be little brother. She took everything
she needed into that cradle to stay busy: toys, crayons, books, stuffed
animals. Busy, she stayed. And happy, too, for quite a while every day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
As our children got to be a little older, they still gravitated toward those spots
that made their play more private, cozy. In the yard, was a huge cedar tree with
drooping branches. The ground under the tree was soft and dry. It was a great
place to play, hidden away from the rest of the world.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
always thought it was cute to see kids playing happily in a place all their own.
But now, I realize there was more to it than that. Kids need to feel safe and
in control of their surroundings now and then. As an adult, can you imagine
what it would feel like to experience something new every day in a giant, noisy
world? I know I get overwhelmed sometimes by the fast pace and extreme-ness of
life. My safe place is the snug corner of my couch. I often go there with a
piping hot cup of coffee!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of
course, we as parents want to challenge and stimulate our children. We want
them to keep exploring and experiencing our giant, noisy, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wonderful</i> world. They do have to grow up after all! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But,
there are also times when we need to provide them with an environment they can
totally manage on their own. Let them feel safe in a niche just their size. Give
them a place where they can create and pretend. You’ll be amazed at the growing
that can take place there, too. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So
what do you say? Isn’t today a good day to drape that bed sheet over the table
and watch the kids disappear into their own little kingdom? <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SrD2VXxE68/ULunMgCdHRI/AAAAAAAAAAg/OKez5AukyEE/s1600/tent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SrD2VXxE68/ULunMgCdHRI/AAAAAAAAAAg/OKez5AukyEE/s1600/tent.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-65300996721337473232012-11-20T08:13:00.000-06:002012-11-20T08:13:35.418-06:00You Never Know When They're Listening<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As
a young adult, I’d been around kids a lot. I had worked as a nanny and in
preschools, daycares, and camp programs. Then I had my first child, a girl. And
she was as cute as a button! However, I
soon found out that bringing home my own little person to care for was
different from anything I had experienced. Plus, this child was nothing like
me. She didn’t like to sleep…my favorite thing. She didn’t like to eat… also my
favorite thing. And she didn’t like to ride in the car…I never screamed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> head off during an entire two hour
drive! The best way to describe her behavior is to say that she seemed to be
really, really annoyed by the fact that she was a baby. (Now, when my second
child was born, he spent a lot of time sleeping and rolling around playing with
his toes. He<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> enjoyed </i>being a baby!)<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Naptime
and bedtime were daily battles with my daughter. I spent a long time reading,
rocking, singing, standing on my head – whatever it took – to get her to close
her eyes. When I was near exhaustion, she would finally drift off for her usual
30 minute nap! I developed the habit of bending over her when I was positive she
was asleep and whispering very softly in her ear, “Mommy loves you so much.” I’m
not sure if this was to remind her or me of my love after the prolonged agony
of night-night time. Either way, I did love her so much at that quiet moment
and wanted to tell her. It was a ritual that I continued throughout the years with
my other four children.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">One
day I eavesdropped on that two year old as she played with her doll. I watched
as she fed the baby and tickled and rocked her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then, when my daughter decided it was nap time, she put the doll down on
a blanket. As I continued to watch, I saw an amazing thing. My daughter leaned
over that baby doll and whispered in her ear, “Mommy loves you so much”! I
couldn’t believe it! She was too young and too ornery to feign sleep when I was
whispering those words in her ear! So, how did she know? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only think that she must have heard me
even as she slept.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I
look back at all those child-raising years and remember the talks, explanations,
and lectures I handed out to my five children. I find myself wondering if they
heard any of it. Did they listen? Did they understand? You know, mothers worry about these things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Then I recall that
little two year old girl whispering to her dolly and I think perhaps they did
hear. And perhaps they <em>were</em> listening when I said the most important words of all.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-51629105335991548342012-11-15T13:41:00.000-06:002012-11-15T13:41:31.890-06:00Latham Family Adventures: Back to the Keep!<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">One autumn at the
Latham place, we were visited by some enormous logging trucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trucks went in and out of our woods,
taking away some of the old trees. When the work was done, there were huge
gaping tire tracks left in the soft ground. Eyesore, you ask? Not for the
Little Lathams!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
just so happened, that the children and I had been reading together a lot that
fall. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our favorite topic was the Middle
Ages. We read every book on medieval knights, castles, and weapons that we
could find. The Little Lathams took one look at the sloppy mess in our front
yard and knew just what to do. They donned helmets and armor (as well as they
could fashion from cardboard and old costumes) and headed outside.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once outside our door, the hands of time
turned back to the year 1200 A.D.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
ground was lumpy and the trenches filled with water from a fall rain. A game
began to take shape. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw the knights gather near the castle
wall. Perhaps they were discussing battle strategies. The knights then ventured
outside the castle walls to engage the approaching (and apparently invisible)
enemy. The skirmish raged a short while, then things began to look bad for our
noble warriors. The leader decided it was time for retreat. “Back to the Keep!”
he would shout at the top of his lungs! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the sound of the cry, I turned to look
out of the window and saw an amazing sight. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A mad scramble took place as the knights
charged back toward the castle. They clambered up the mounds of earth and
catapulted themselves over the moat. After much splashing and sloshing, our
champions were all safe inside the keep. They would rest a bit, brag about
their exploits and head out to fight again. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Little Latham knights were as brave as
any we had read about in our books. And they never gave up defending the castle
– for at least 50 battles they fought that day. Each one ended with the serious
command “Back to the Keep!”…followed by cheers and laughter!<o:p></o:p></span>Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-85377708365861237332012-11-11T19:51:00.003-06:002012-11-11T19:53:11.614-06:00Book Review: The Princess and the White Bear King<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <em>The Princess and the White Bear King</em> by Tanya Robyn Batt</span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b> </div>
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<a href="http://store.barefootbooks.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/197x180/17f82f742ffe127f42dca9de82fb58b1/P/r/PrincessAndTheWhiteBearKing_HCwCD_W_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Princess and the White Bear King" border="0" height="200" id="product_image_3407" src="http://store.barefootbooks.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/197x180/17f82f742ffe127f42dca9de82fb58b1/P/r/PrincessAndTheWhiteBearKing_HCwCD_W_2.jpg" title="The Princess and the White Bear King" width="190" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My family loves folk tales and books with
amazing illustrations. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Princess and
the White Bear King</i> is both of these things! Beautifully written by Tanya
Robyn Batt, the story includes elements from three different European folk
tales woven into a simple, but captivating story. The language used by the
author is fitting for such a timeless tale and the illustrations by Nicoletta
Ceccoli are gorgeous!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The heroine in this story makes a mistake
(as we all do, right?) and when she realizes what she’s done, she goes about
setting things right. Her perseverance and ingenuity pay off with a very happy
ending. This is a great read aloud book that is requested over and over again
at my house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-8471329061859141652012-11-05T11:40:00.000-06:002012-11-15T08:17:06.426-06:00Latham Family Adventures: All Things Baseball<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> When the oldest Latham boy turned ten
years old, he joined a little league baseball team. Up to that point, his
baseball training wasn’t very formal. He and his siblings were introduced to
the game by their dad. Being a ball player and avid fan of the game, Dad wanted
them to learn all about it. He taught them the basic skills needed to hit the
ball, catch, and throw. That was the beginning of many sessions of batting
practice and fielding grounders.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> All
the Little Lathams loved the time spent playing ball with Dad, but some of them
(the boys in particular) took the game one step further. As long as they had a ball and something that resembled a bat, they were ready to play. And they were good at
incorporating baseball into other games they played on a daily basis!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> For
example, jumping on the trampoline. It was no longer enough to bounce and flip
around. They created a game that involved someone on the ground throwing pop
flies to the person on the tramp. The fielder was required to make the fanciest
catch possible. This hopefully involved nabbing the ball in mid-flight, landing
with a roll of some kind and not breaking any bones. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> Another activity turned baseball-ish was a
summertime favorite. The slip-n-slide! A long sheet of plastic was placed in
the grass. Next, a garden hose poured a stream of water from one end. This made
a wonderfully sloppy base path. Three players were required to play this game. Luckily,
we had three Little Latham guys. Player One pretended to catch a pop fly.
Player Two tagged up at third and ran toward home on the sip-n-slide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Player Three was the catcher. This last
fellow tried to tag the runner after receiving a blistering throw from Player One.
Of course, the runner slid the entire length of the plastic sheet, face first
through the water. And of course, there was always some kind amazing tag out at
the plate! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> They had a blast and played for hours
keeping scores and statistics. Now I watch them play ball in high school and
college. Judging from the bumps and bruises they bring home, I’d say those
“fancy catches” were much easier back when they were Little Lathams playing on
their trampoline!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></b></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-1583965661798762342012-11-01T14:44:00.000-05:002012-11-05T09:45:09.578-06:00Can Kids Still Create?<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A common theme is
emerging in my blog entries. I’m worried about our kids. Specifically, I’m
worried about how America's kids will grow up in a healthy manner amidst all
the technology.</span></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span> </o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Why does technology exist? To make
tasks easier, faster, and more efficient. To provide short cuts in our work so
we are free to engage in leisure activities involving yet more technology??<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Where, in this world
of quick answers, immediate communication, and constant mental stimulation does
the creative process live? Will we have a society full of people who don’t know
the joy of creating? In generations past, creativity was a necessary part of
life. Folks sewed, built, cooked, made music. And what about the crafting of a
good old-fashioned letter? I wonder if our kids today are able to slow down
long enough to put their thoughts together. Then, with proper grammar and
without the help of Wikipedia, can they put pen to paper and create something
they are proud of?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Like I said, I’m worried.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’m thinking of my
future grandchildren. The image in my mind doesn't involve little golden haired
cherubs staring intently at computer screens. (I’ve seen two year olds navigate
the buttons and icons on an iPad with scary proficiency!) Rather, I hope to see
my progeny in environments which allow them to think and create. In art rooms, workshops,
kitchens, gardens. The possibilities are endless. The creative process can
thrive alongside all the technology. After all, our kids must live in a high
tech world and will surely benefit from the many advances. The challenge for
parents is to make time and provide materials and opportunities for kids to
create. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I know the joy of creating something.
It is the feeling I wish for all of our children. It is the feeling of using
what God put inside each of us: patience, energy, ideas, and love. The finished
product does not have to be amazing, but I guarantee the process will be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-47142235575740935332012-10-15T08:08:00.000-05:002012-11-15T08:18:23.053-06:00Latham Family Adventures: Ozark Pioneers<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt;"> The Little Lathams spent hours and hours listening to stories being read aloud to them by their father and me. This was the primary source of education when they were young! Consequently, their play often imitated the stories they heard.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt;"> One particular area of study centered on the early years of our fine nation. The kids loved hearing about the Native Americans and their way of life, as well as the adventurous folks who settled here with their families. The idea of exploring and taming a new land intrigued the Little Lathams and they had many games which allowed them to become pioneers on our 20 acres of Ozark wilderness. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt;"> They loved to trek about the woods. They even created their own covered wagon. Using long slender branches, they formed a ballooning archway and mounted it to their old American Flyer. Then they covered it with a sheet. It actually looked authentic from a distance. The only trouble was, there was only room for one pioneer to ride at a time. And that meant someone else had to pull the wagon...<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt;"> And pioneer children had to play, so the Little Lathams were anxious to try out games and entertainment they read about in books such as Little House on the Prairie. It seems that children of that time had great fun doing something they called tree-topping. This activity consisted of locating a young, pliable tree. We had plenty of these on our property. Next, the top of the tree is bent over toward the ground and tightly gripped by a child standing next to the tree. Each Latham took his turn to be the tree-topper. Now it is time for the fun. Still hanging on to the branch, the child begins jumping. If the tree has a flexible nature and if the child is the ideal weight, a really funny thing happens! The child is able to jump very high with the help of the branch which is trying to return to its upright position. With each jump, the child goes a little higher and even feels like he is flying for a moment. I'll admit, some of the Little Lathams didn't go more than three or four feet off of the ground, but still they shrieked with delight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One did manage to fly ten feet up in the air holding tightly to the branch. He must have had the right combination of tree and weight. Or it could be that the Little Latham I refer to was just a particularly bouncy boy!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-59814759970587838482012-09-28T10:47:00.000-05:002012-11-01T14:48:31.316-05:00I Love this Essay from Memoria Press<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody>
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<strong>Once Upon a Time at Home: Why you should read aloud to your children</strong></div>
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<strong>by Martin Cothran</strong></div>
<a href="http://www.memoriapress.com/descriptions/index_curriculum-packages.html"><img alt="Kindergarten Read Aloud Set" height="254" src="http://www.memoriapress.com/articles/Images/ReadAloud_K-w-text.gif" style="float: right;" width="375" /></a>
One Saturday many years ago, when even my oldest children were young, we had a visit from two friends of ours. They were not quite my parents’ age, but they were old enough that they had just become grandparents. We invited them in, and, as happened when anyone entered our home at that time, they were beset with children.<br />
Not everyone takes such things well, but for these friends, it was a welcome imposition. After a few formalities, Jim sat down on our living room couch and grabbed a children’s picture book, and my two oldest children, my son and my daughter automatically sat down next to him, and he read them a story as my wife and I—and Jim’s wife Renee—looked on.<br />
In the process of just a few short minutes, a friendship was formed. I regret to say that we got together with Jim and Renee only a time or two in the ensuing years. But in that one moment there was an immediate bond of shared wonder between these two friends and my children, woven from a simple story.<br />
Something about the act of reading aloud is communal. To read by yourself is to involve only one person, but to read aloud is to involve you and someone else—perhaps several people, all of whom are hearing the same thing at the same time from the same book read in the same voice. This is the first benefit of reading aloud: it makes a community out of those who had been mere individuals.<br />
I don’t remember what Jim read to my children that day. Maybe it was <em>Green Eggs and Ham</em>, or <em>The Story of Ferdinand</em>, or possibly <em>Mike Mulligan’s Steam Shovel</em>. It could have been a hundred others: we had them all.<br />
I spend a lot of my time writing and speaking on education issues, and I frequently have occasion to extol the virtues of reading aloud to children. In my opinion, it is one of the most important ways, not only of bringing our individualistic modern selves together, but of simply introducing children to the wonder of reality. This is its second benefit: It brings a sort of enchantment into their everyday lives.<br />
A very young child, of course, does not recognize the distinction between reality and magic. To a child, everything seems fantastic. “When we are very young”, said G. K. Chesterton “we do not need fairy tales: we only need tales. Mere life is interesting enough. A child of seven is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door and saw a dragon. But a child of three is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door.”<br />
When our first child was only about a year old, we began reading to him at bedtime and ushering him into the world of <em>Wynken, Blynken and Nod</em>. I am quite confident that he had no trouble at all with the idea that three children, one night,<br />
<blockquote>
Sailed off in a wooden shoe—<br />
Sailed on a river of crystal light,<br />
Into a sea of dew.</blockquote>
To him it would have seemed no more fantastic to sail off in a shoe than sailing off in a ship. In fact, to such a child raised on such poetry, sailing in something as mundane as a ship might seem positively unnatural.<br />
Some of the books that so enchanted our children in this way had ushered my wife and me into the world as well. When our other children were born, we plied them with other favorites, such as Dr. Seuss’ <em>The Sleep Book</em>, our copy of which still bears, inside the front cover, an annotation: “1122 Bedroom Lane, Storybookland.” It was written there by my wife when she was a little girl.<br />
And above my daughter’s bed, in a cross stitch sampler my late mother-in-law sewed for her children, was a prayer: <br />
<blockquote>
Now I lay me down to sleep<br />
I pray the Lord my soul to keep<br />
If I should die before I wake<br />
I pray the Lord my soul to take</blockquote>
My wife would often pray it with her before she kissed her goodnight, and it was in one of the several books of children’s poetry we had on our shelves.<br />
We read <em>Little Toot</em>, <em>The Little Red Hen</em>, <em>Little Women</em>, and <em>The Little Engine that Could</em>. We read <em>The Little Princess</em>, <em>Little Britches</em>, <em>The Three Little Pigs</em>, and <em>Stuart Little</em>. We read <em>The Little Farm</em>, <em>The Little House</em>, and <em>Little House on the Prairie</em>. Then, of course, there was <em>The Story of Doctor Doolittle</em> and the <em>Little Golden Books</em>, as well as <em>Policeman Small</em>, <em>Fireman Small</em>, <em>Farmer Small</em>—and, last as well as least, <em>The Teeny Tiny Woman</em>.<br />
We read <em>The Big Wave</em>, <em>The Book of Giant Stories</em>, and <em>Danny and the Dinosaur</em>.<br />
We worked our way up from <em>One Horse Farm</em> and <em>One Was Johnny</em>, to <em>The</em> <em>Three Billy Goats Gruff</em> , and <em>The Five Chinese Brothers</em>, and then on up to <em>Ten Apples Up On Top</em>. We went <em>Around the World in Eighty Days</em>, and counted “… hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of cats” (an expression we sometimes used of my mother’s farm in Kansas, where there seemed to be too many cats to count).<br />
There were certain picture book illustrators and authors who became perennial family favorites: Bill Peet (<em>The Caboose Who Got Loose</em>, <em>Cyrus the Seasick Sea Serpent</em>, and <em>The Wingdingdilly</em>), Paul Galdone (<em>Henny Penny</em>, <em>The Gingerbread Boy</em>, and <em>Hansel & Gretel</em>), and Edward Lear (<em>The Owl and the Pussycat</em>, <em>The Jumblies</em>, and <em>The Pelican Chorus</em>). <br />
Each book was a fairy wand, waved over our home. Whenever we heard a loud explosion, it was <em>Drummer Hoff</em>, firing it off. Our home was not just good, it was <em>The</em> <em>Best Nest</em>. And sometimes the last one in got a swat on the bottom, just like <em>Ping</em>. <br />
And every bean was a magic bean.<br />
Dr. Seuss worked his way subtly into our consciousness. If you were out too late and we had to go looking you, and we found you in the dark, we would take you home. We would call you “Clark.” And if someone offered you something you didn’t like, you could simply explain that you didn’t like it here or there, you didn’t like it anywhere. <br />
Having been read <em>Where the Wild Things Are</em>, my children knew, when they were told, “I’ll eat you up I love you so,” just how much love that meant. They had been read P. D. Eastman’s <em>Are You My Mother?</em> and so they knew what to think when, after saying “Mommy?!” to get their mother’s attention while she was trying to get supper together, she responded impatiently, “I am <em>not</em> your mother. <em>I am a snort</em>!”<br />
In fact, the kitchen was often a place of instruction and admonition in practical wisdom born of books. There was more than one cake baked there about which it was asked “Who will eat this cake?” And always there was a chorus of “I wills” from the very voices who had answered “Not I” when the question was who would help to make it. The message was understood, but always the voice that could have said “Then <em>I</em> will eat it!” was merciful.<br />
We laughed when Betsy made “everything stew” and it tasted awful in <em>Betsy-Tacy</em>—and when Jack outwitted the giants in <em>The Jack Tales</em>. But it wasn’t only delight we found in books. One night, my wife came back into the living room after having read a chapter in <em>Anne of Green Gables </em>to my daughter, the half-opened book hanging limply from her hand. I could tell she had been crying. Matthew, Anne’s beloved adoptive uncle, had died.<br />
Bedtime wasn’t the only time they were read to. As part of our home school day, they were read to in the early afternoon, usually after lunch. One of my fondest memories is the many times I passed by the living room and poked my head in to see my wife sitting on the sofa, with one child in her lap, one sitting next to her coloring in a book, and another on the floor quietly playing as she read the Bible. <br />
And this a third benefit that comes from reading aloud: These were not only learning the Bible by listening. They were learning to listen. Listening, like reading and writing and figuring, is a skill.<br />
And this training in how to listen extended even to the dinner table. After supper, I would push the dishes away, grab a book, and begin reading. These were usually chapter books. <em>The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe</em> by C. S. Lewis, <em>Rascal</em>, by Sterling North, <em>The Good Master</em>, by Kate Seredy, <em>Tuck Everlasting</em>, by Natalie Babbitt, <em>Pollyanna</em>, by Eleanor Porter, <em>The Princess and the Goblin</em>, by George MacDonald, and <em>Charlotte’s Web</em> and <em>Trumpet of the Swan</em>, by E. B. White. In addition to the <em>Little House on the Prairie</em> books and the <em>Chronicles of Narnia</em>, there were books we read again and again as dessert was served: <em>Penrod</em>, by Booth Tarkington, and <em>Lord of the Rings</em>, by J. R. R. Tolkien.<br />
I don’t know how well my children remember all of these books. I suspect they remember most of them. I know <em>I</em> remember them. <br />
But as Chesterton points out, it is not the very young child who needs this magic the most: The older the child, the more such magic should be mandatory. In fact, it is the oldest children—adults themselves—who often benefit the most. Everything these stories touched was transformed, and even the most mundane of circumstances was cast in a new light.<br />
Occasionally I would notice my wife missing, and after searching for a few minutes would find her sitting up on our bed reading a magazine, her back propped up on a pillow. Around her wriggled the signs that her search for a few moments of solitude had been unsuccessful. She would look up at me, put a loving hand on the head of the squirming child nearest her, and with a bemused expression say, “I do not like this bed at all. A lot of things have come to call.”<br />
More than once I would be working at the dining room table long after the voice of my wife, reading in the next room, had become but background noise. All of a sudden I would realize that the children had all escaped to the back yard long ago, and there was silence in the house. I would poke my head in the living room, where she would still be sitting on the couch, reading the same book. “Are you okay?” I would ask. “Yes,” she would say, “but listen to this, …” and she would share some pearl of wisdom she, an adult, had learned from a book meant for children.<br />
This is one of the reasons you should not stop reading to your children when they learn to read themselves. I still read frequently after dinner, even though our youngest is now 17 years old. He will often complain that he has better things to do, but he’ll listen anyway, and often, though he doesn’t like to admit it, he enjoys it.<br />
And I often read to my wife, even when there are no children around. <br />
In Virginia Lee Burton’s <em>The Little House</em>, a woman passes by a little dilapidated house in the city one day. It turns out that the house had once been out in the country, but the city had grown all around it. “No one wanted to live in her and take care of her any more.” She finds out that it actually belonged to her great-great grandfather, and it “couldn’t be sold for silver or gold.” So she had the little house moved out in the country and lived in it.<br />
We too own a house in the country, having moved from the suburbs before our children were born. And when my wife gets in one of her cleaning moods, she will often cast her eyes on the many books we have acquired over the years, many of them children’s books, and she sometimes wonders out loud how they might sell at a yard sale. They just sit there on the shelves, gathering dust. No one wants to read or take care of them any more.<br />
Some of them (the not-so-good ones that were only read once) may need to go, but some day there will be a grandchild who walks by those shelves, and some of those books may be moved to his or her own bookshelf at 1122 Bedroom Lane, Storybookland. And that’s why they can never be sold—for silver or gold.<br />
<em>Many of the books used in the Cothran home are available in Memoria Press' <a href="http://www.memoriapress.com/descriptions/index_curriculum-packages.html">Read Aloud programs</a>, currently available for K Jr.-3rd. Permission to reprint this article with a link to Memoria Press' website (www.memoriapress.com) is hereby granted. </em><br />
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-78872965223700264632012-09-12T10:51:00.001-05:002012-11-15T08:19:08.423-06:00Latham Family Adventures: The Chipmunk Tree<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> Sometimes a name just sticks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the case with a huge tree in our back yard. The first time the Little Lathams played on it, they pretended to be chipmunks. Thus the name: Chipmunk Tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Chipmunk Tree, I think, was an oak. It had a long straight trunk, five feet in diameter. Big, thick branches shot out in all directions, but none had leaves on them. You see, this beloved tree was lying on the ground, having been blown over in a long ago storm. The trunk was embedded in the dirt and seemed to belong right there where it fell. It’s final resting place. We didn’t even consider trying to move it or burn it or chop it up. It belonged to the land.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children loved that tree. It was big enough to hold all five of them and they spent hours climbing the branches and walking along the trunk balancing carefully. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was no easy trick for the young chipmunks to navigate the rough surface of the tree. Sometimes they seemed more monkey than chipmunk! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> Each of the children had a comfortable perch on which to sit and hold chipmunk conversations. And they were often busy collecting little chipmunk treasures to hide in the nooks and crannies of the bark.<o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT', serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;">Once or twice, I witnessed the younger chipmunks being a bit pesky as they sat on their perches throwing acorns at the others. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT', serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT', serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"> Through the years, the Chipmunk Tree served many roles. From pirate ship to picnic bench and everything in between. I was often reminded of Silverstein's Giving Tree as I watched the kids playing. For no matter what was asked of the Chipmunk Tree...it delivered!</span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-87420490905683948072012-08-30T17:17:00.000-05:002012-11-01T14:46:45.725-05:00Warning: Never Multi-Task in Front of the Children!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Children learn by example. They watch our every move and listen to every word (especially when we think they aren’t!). So we, as parents, need to examine our own behavior and attitudes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I saw last week on a news program that today’s teenagers are masters of multi-tasking. They engage in multiple text conversations<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> and</i> listen to music <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> play video games <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and </i>work on homework. All at the same time! Many teens say they can’t even do homework without these other activities going on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’m shocked…and scared for our kids. As a young mother of five, I prided myself on being able to accomplish multiple tasks. Heck, I could make dinner while bouncing a baby in my backpack, quizzing one kid on multiplication facts, and participating in a spirited game of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I Spy with the other three! Did I feel good about being with my kids and getting dinner on the table? You betcha! But did I do my best at any of those tasks mentioned? No way. And that made me feel a little frustrated at the end of the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Take that situation and multiply by 100 to get a glimpse of what our teens (and even younger kids) are experiencing. Imagine not ever really concentrating on the thing at hand. Always keeping ears perked for that magic little tone with a message that indicates something is going on somewhere else that’s probably better than what you’re doing. Never experiencing that feeling of putting <em>all of one’s self</em> into an effort, a project, a conversation or … a prayer. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I think I can rein myself in when it comes to preoccupation with gadgets, but I want my kids to understand this, too. So, I have made a decision. I will keep cell phones in a basket by the door when my kids come home for the evening. Sure, they can check once or twice to see if any emergency requires a response, but the rest can wait until the next day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’d like them to be present during our time together. How much more valued will our loved ones feel if we give them all of our attention when we’re with them? How much better will grades become when the work in front of a student is the main thing on his mind? And how much more interesting would conversations be if they consisted of more than abbreviated answers in the form of text messages?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cambria','serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">None of this can happen with my kids unless I also embrace the motto: NO MORE MULTI-TASKING! I will turn off that cell phone and put down that i-pad when my family is around. I hope to set an example by being totally present in my interactions with loved ones, friends, neighbors, and most importantly, God…. Join me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-82263806423282653752012-08-13T12:18:00.000-05:002012-11-15T08:20:12.177-06:00Latham Family Adventures: Grass Houses<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> I’ll remind you here, reader, that we Lathams weren’t exactly country folk before we moved to the country! Our land was beautiful. It was mostly wooded, but a few acres were open pasture. Some people would have thought of using the pasture for livestock. Not us. We immediately set up a backstop in one corner for baseball and softball games. The rest of the field was left as a giant, meadowy playground for the kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This pasture was where the Little Lathams played a game which they called Grass Houses. I remember the day they invented the game. It was springtime. I was mowing along our driveway beside the pasture. The grass in the field was new, but it was already 18 inches tall. On a whim, I pushed the mower into the tall growth. It was quite easy to cut. I knew the children liked to pick flowers and explore in the field, so it seemed like a good idea to make a path. I set out through the field. I made a few curving, crisscrossing trails and came out the other side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The children loved the maze. They ran laughing and chasing one another. Then things grew quiet. I looked out and saw that they had spread out in different directions across the field. Heads down, they were each working on something. That’s when I saw that they had raided our supply of picnic blankets. Each child used an old wool blanket to flatten the grass to make a place to sit. These little cleared spots became their houses. They were spaced out along the pathways. There weren’t any furnishings in the grass houses. The fun came with travelling around the trails to visit one another. As the days passed, the game evolved. Sometimes a picnic lunch was in order. Other times, the game turned exciting when there was a monster or bad guy loose! Then, the kids ran screaming to each other’s houses for safety.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As spring turned to summer, the field kept growing and I kept the pathway mowed. This made the grass houses even better. I could barely see the tops of the kids’ heads as they played in the field. They were completely hidden when they sat on their blankets surrounded by the tall grass walls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Belwe Lt BT','serif'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All in all, it was a fun game. And,yes, there were times when I wished we had more farming experience. But if we had to do it over, I’d choose baseball games and grass houses in that field over a few head of cattle any day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-51358874115736306482012-07-13T18:42:00.000-05:002012-11-01T14:50:45.536-05:00Be a Stegosaurus<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I discovered pretty early on that kids love to-do lists. Just like adults, they feel that sense of accomplishment when they mark a task as being completed. I began using a chalk board to make daily lists for my children when they were young. Items included school work, chores, and some fun activities. When a friend came by the house one day, he looked at the board. He questioned something on my son’s list. No. 4 read “Be a Stegosaurus”. He was so amused by my choice of words. Why hadn’t I written “Pretend to be a Stegosaurus” or “Act like a Stegosaurus”? I laughed about it at the time as my son roared at us from the other room. How does one <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Be</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a Stegosaurus</i>? It involves taking on the characteristics and habits of a stegosaurus. There would be some studying involved. Practicing, emulating, and then <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">being</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think there’s a pretty good lesson here. If we desire our child (or ourselves for that matter) to become a person of honorable character, why not encourage him to “be” that person? It may seem false to act courageous or honest, or generous if you haven’t practiced those traits before. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s the first step to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">becoming</i> those things. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">So, as my children grow older, I no longer make to-do lists for them. But, I pray that they continue to practice the axioms we’ve talked about for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">As they leave the house each day for school, work and sporting events, I want to give them some encouraging words. I think that rather than “Have a good day” or even “Do the right thing”, I’ll try pumping my fist in the air and shouting “Be a Stegosaurus!” </span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-84031971525900447382012-06-28T21:55:00.000-05:002012-11-15T08:20:49.791-06:00Latham Family Adventures: Dancing in the Moonlight<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> There is something magical about night time when you live in the country. I realized this when our family moved a few miles outside of town. The nights weren’t the same I knew growing up in the suburbs of a big city. The darkness was different. It was velvety, black, country darkness. The sky was dotted with a million stars. The bright moon made shadowy patterns on the ground.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Little Lathams were like all children in that they loved to be outside after dark. This was allowed most often when family and friends gathered. The adults enjoyed the visit so much they ignored the clock. Hiding and chasing games normally played during the day had an increased element of fun in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the children had tired themselves out with running games, someone would suggest dancing in the moonlight. It was my job to provide music. The children gathered and begin to dance. They swirled and twirled. They joined hands and locked elbows. Sometimes they choreographed medieval looking line dances to do over and over again. This activity was usually limited to the girls, but I do remember boys occasionally joining in the fun. They would spin until they fell laughing in the grass collecting chigger bites.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to recall one fall night in particular. It was a night our family attended an annual harvest party with friends. The kids all wore costumes. There was a common theme among the girls that year. Fairies, princesses and fancy ladies were in high attendance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Toward the end of the night, things began to wind down. Little ones were showing signs of weariness. I realized we had forgotten our tradition of dancing in the moonlight. As I stood on the porch of the house, I saw several of the girls making their way down a gentle hill. They were in groups of two or three walking towards the bon fire. I decided to turn on the music, hoping to get their attention. When the sound reached their ears, not one of them looked back to see where the music had originated. They didn’t even look at one another. They all just lifted their arms and began dancing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly, a group of tired looking little girls was transformed. They became naiads, dryads, and pixies. The hillside was covered with floating, twirling figures. The fire glowed behind them making their costumes shimmer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked around to see if anyone else was watching. I was alone. I was the only witness to this beautiful sight. A little Vivaldi, a little gossamer, and little girls dancing in the moonlight…I have no doubt there is something magical about night time in the country!</span></div>
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-86386604205614969972012-06-25T21:58:00.000-05:002012-11-01T14:51:04.952-05:00The Importance of Being Quiet<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I encouraged my children to spend some quiet time each day when they were young. Well, that’s not exactly true…I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">required</i> them to spend quiet time every day. It was on the to-do list that had to be completed before they were free to play. It was mandatory. With five kids, one may think I just needed some peace in order to keep my sanity. That was a nice benefit, but I actually have a strong belief that kids need to practice being quiet! And I don’t mean using ear phones to listen to music or play video games so no one else will be bothered. I mean real, true silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">When the weather was nice, I sent all the kids outside. Each one found a private spot to be alone in the quiet. Sometimes they took journals or sketch pads and climbed into the branches of a tree or settled in a shady spot next to the shed. It really didn’t matter as long as the children were cut off from the craziness of the world, for just a bit. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted them to have the chance to hear their own thoughts and form their own ideas, and to pray. It’s really hard to pray in a high tech world. I set a timer then called them in when the buzzer sounded. They always seemed happy and energized upon returning. I never asked what they thought about or wrote about in their journals. I knew it was time well-spent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">As parents, we do our best to plant seeds in our young children. Then we pray the seeds take root. As my children grow into young ladies and men, I hope this is one of my plantings that truly stays with them. I hope they always remember the importance of being quiet.</span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-4647282826214210572012-06-04T12:51:00.000-05:002012-11-01T14:47:39.960-05:00Of Lego Blocks and Charles Dickens<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Kids are amazing, right? I think we all know this as parents. Sometimes, in the daily grind of life, we forget just how amazing they are. Kids remember things. Many, many things. They absorb ideas and information without even trying. This is why I believe that while our children are young, it is the job of parents to surround them with the best things possible. As their minds develop, we must feed them on positive, inspiring experiences. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">When my children were young, I read to them each night before bed. And sometimes after breakfast. Now and then, we took a little afternoon reading break…okay, so we read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a lot</i>! I chose books which were interesting and well-written. Many times, the reading level far surpassed a book they could read on their own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As they listened to the book read aloud, they were able to absorb the meaning and nuances of some wonderful stories. <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">This idea was confirmed for me during the reading of Charles Dickens’ <u>David Copperfield</u>. The youngest of the children, boys aged four and five years, would sit quietly building with Lego Blocks while I read aloud. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The older three children were intensely engaged in the story. The little boys seemed to be concentrating on their building efforts. I soon realized that just being in the room while I read was great for the younger guys. They were being exposed to some new vocabulary even if they didn’t follow the intricacies of the story. They were listening and learning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even at that young age, they laughed with the rest of us at the comical characters. They were especially entertained by Aunt Betsy’s harsh ways. One of their favorite lines of Aunt Betsy directed to Miss Murdstone made them roll on the floor with laughter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"</span><span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Let me see you ride a donkey over my green again, and as</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sure as you have a head upon your shoulders, I'll knock your </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>bonnet off, and tread upon it!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m pretty sure a Dickensian sense of humor was developed in each of them that still exists today. And the Lego towers weren’t so bad either!</span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-8611978873477326552012-05-30T10:31:00.000-05:002012-11-15T08:22:05.163-06:00Latham Family Adventures: The Secret Garden<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong> </strong> </span>It was autumn when our family moved to a new home on 20 acres in the country. After settling in, the first order of business was planning a garden. An area was chosen, fenced in and prepared for planting in the spring. While this work was happening, the little Lathams had their own idea about a garden…a secret garden. They began by clearing a trail into the woods. They raked and scraped and pulled up the growth. Finally, there was a twisty little path leading to a small clearing in the trees<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">. </b></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The children came to me for help choosing plants for this shady area. Luckily, a friend had recently thinned her garden and offered to give us flower bulbs of all varieties. The Latham kids each chose an area of the garden and began planting. They moved rocks to make borders and placed logs to be used for benches.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Early the next spring, things began happening. The children were happily surprised to find their bulbs sprouting and blooming. It was beautiful to see those flashes of bright color interrupting the dark green of the woods. More plants were added throughout the spring. One Little Latham planted a fairy ring of purple cone flowers. Some native wonders were discovered by the gardeners, too. They found tiny wild strawberries, goose berry bushes, and blankets of purple violets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b>The path was well worn by the passing of many little feet, but the rest of the garden was a little wild. This made it even more mysterious. It seemed as if the flowers had sprung up on their own amidst the grape vines and poison ivy. It was cool there, even on the hottest summer days.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This secret garden was the backdrop for many games and adventures. It was truly hidden. If a visitor came to the place; he never knew the garden existed. That is, until he was invited in…<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></span></div>
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Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-40152331845026387612012-04-02T10:32:00.000-05:002012-11-15T08:24:52.904-06:00Latham Family Adventures: The Matryoshka Game<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Some of the Latham Family Adventures did not involve all five of the children actively participating. Such was the case with the Matryoshka Game. Not that the boys wouldn’t have gladly played along, the girls just couldn’t allow it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A set of Russian nesting dolls, called Matryoshkas, was given to each girl when she was quite young. The girls loved the bright colors, tiny details, and the way the dolls nested together so perfectly. New sets of Matryoshkas showed up at our house as Christmas and birthday gifts, each unique and beautiful. As the collections grew, so did the idea of the Matryoshka Game. These beauties were not meant to sit on display somewhere! They were meant to come to life!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The game had two parts. First, was the construction of a world in which the Matryoshkas would live. Our many books provided the basis for the houses. They were stacked at different levels to delineate the rooms and used as stairs and dividers. Colored glass jars and bottles became lamps and furniture. Brightly patterned scarves from the dress-up box provided carpets and draperies. Almost anything could be used to embellish the Matryoshka houses as long as it was colorful and exotic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The finished product was huge. It covered the entire floor of a good-sized bedroom. And it took hours to complete. Each doll family needed its own house which included cradles for the tiny ones and bedrooms for all the others. As the girls set up the houses, they were also developing scenarios for the various families. This is when part two of the game began. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never knew what went on in the lives of the Matryoshkas, but it must have been interesting. I could hear talking, crying, and laughing coming from the room during the game. The boys begged to come in just to watch from the top bunk bed. The girls took pity and let them in with the requirement that they not interfere with the game. Sometimes they were even granted one set of dolls to share and some odds and ends with which to build their own house in a corner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Belwe Lt BT", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The game usually lasted about three days. At this time the girls would get tired of tip toeing through the room to get to their beds and the houses would start to look a little shabby. The Matryoshka Game only happened once a month or so. After all, it was a huge undertaking and clean-up was equally huge. But every few weeks, I expected to find the little Lathams lost in that world for a while. That happy, busy, beautiful world of Matryoshkas.</span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4233220069322136290.post-29416004274928623242012-03-26T10:48:00.001-05:002012-11-01T14:51:22.228-05:00Evidence of a Toddler's Day<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I remember my husband asking if it was time for our two year old to take more responsibility cleaning up her toys. Of course I knew it was time. She was actually pretty good at following directions. And she understood the whole idea of picking up after oneself. So, with a newborn to care for, why wasn’t I embracing the idea and taking advantage of my daughter’s compliant nature? I’ll tell you why.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">It had to do with nighttime. Once the children were asleep, the world slowed down. I felt the tension go out of my shoulders. I found myself smiling as I remembered something cute my daughter said. I chatted with my husband, giving him the highlights of my day. We quietly moved through the house cleaning up before we settled down for some grown-up time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">In the living room, we came across a family of stuffed bears where my daughter had been playing. She sang her first original song to the family of bears that day, entitled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">One by Heart</i>. There was a basket, filled with a collection of play food she had chosen at the pretend grocery store. And in a corner of the room, we came across a beautiful, symmetrical design made of beaded necklaces and gaudy clip-on earrings. My daughter had neatly arranged the pieces on an over sized book. It looked like a framed piece of art. I didn’t even catch the little sculptor at work on that. As I put the things away I felt as if I were erasing the evidence of my daughter’s day. One that had passed so quickly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cambria", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cherished that nighttime ritual. Somehow, when telling my husband about our day, I forgot how messy, loud, and exhausting some parts had been. Instead, I focused on the happy evidence strewn about the living room as I once more vowed “Tomorrow, she starts cleaning up her own toys.” Well…maybe.</span></div>
Michele Lathamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04617789379007748396noreply@blogger.com0