Sunday, August 31, 2008

Homeschooling Soap Box

Anyone who knows me well is aware that I am a strong homeschool advocate. It was an evolutionary process and truthfully, when I was a young unmarried adult, I really didn't expect to have such firm convictions about it. Except for the eighth grade, my own public school years were not terrible. I have mostly fond memories of school; friends and giggling, recess and gym, art and music, marbles and dodge ball, boys catch the girls and spin the bottle. I had reasonable grades and friends, for the most part. The teachers were generally pretty good and I don't recall having any issues with any of them or they with me.

I have been a Christian since I was 16, although I started on the path when I was 14 but faltered and found my way back to stay when I was 16. I finished my last two years in high school as a Christian. These were not terrible years, but mostly because I basically stuck to myself and was very quiet.

My main influences toward homeschooling were my older sister and my sister-in-law. I knew other people who homeschooled as well, including my pastor's wife, but the day-to-day routine and results were apparent because I knew so much of my sisters' lives. And thus the evolution began.

Christianity and public school are an oxymoron. They really are. Public schools promote so much of what Christians try to avoid. The reason I have mostly fond memories of public school is because I was not yet a Christian. Quite a few of these fond memories consist of things that I would not want my child to be involved with because, in being a Christian, my life has turned 180 degrees away from much of what I used to do. It's changed the way I think. As harmless as boys catch the girls, or spin the bottle may seem to some, they really promote too much familiarity between the sexes that I really don't believe is healthy. I would never want my 10-year-old son to be catching girls and kissing them. This is considered "normal" behaviour in public school.

I realize that homeschooling does not guarantee the salvation of my children any more than public schooling guarantees the damnation of them. I know good, Christian parents in both situations whose kids have turned out great. However, I do believe that the choice to homeschool can make the path toward their salvation much more smooth - and that really is the most important thing to a Christian parent.

The main reason for this post is prompted by an article that I read in the most recent issue (September 2008) of Reader's Digest. The article is titled: Thirteen Things Your Kid's Elementary School Teacher Won't Tell You. Note: Elementary School Teacher - not High School Teacher. This means kids age 5-13. I won't list all of them. I'll just paraphrase the ones that disturbed me the most:

1. The little notes that they pass around in class are not as innocent as you might think. They are way more explicit - sometimes X-rated, racist or revealing sensitive secrets.

2. Gossip and bad language are heard in the hallways and class - kids can use words you'd never expect.

3. Teachers know whom your child is "dating", and the fact that they can switch partners from week to week.

4. Sending a healthy lunch important to you? Don't bother because your kids will just swap it or even at times throw it out.

5. Even though your daughter might leave the house with her hair in a loose ponytail, wearing no make-up, in you clothes you approve of, it only takes a quick trip to the bathroom before class starts to enter the classroom looking ready for a Teen Vogue photo shoot.

6. Younger students who spend a lot of time with their teachers commonly call them "mommy".

7. It's true: When teachers like a student, they can't help but grade a little more generously, and when a student really gets on their nerves, teachers tend to be a little meaner when they're marking.

Now these are 7 out of 13 points that were listed in this article and the ones that particularly caught my attention. Obviously it bothers me to see a common denominator of rebellion, disobedience and sneakiness in most of these points. However, since every child will try these behaviours to some extent, that is not the main reason for my concern.

What truly disturbs me is this: You send your child to school for approximately six hours per day, entrusting their thoughts and nurturing to be guided by people that they will inevitably look up to (see point #6) - TEACHERS. And yet these teachers, most of whom have children of their own (so they really wouldn't care if other teachers didn't tell them about their child's rebellious behaviour?), do not think any of these points are worth mentioning to the parents. Remember the title of this article: Thirteen Things Your Kid's Elementary School Teacher Won't Tell You. The teachers interviewed for this article admit witnessing this behaviour, and yet they see no reason to let the parent know what little Suzie or Johnny is doing.

And I am expected to entrust my child to a TEACHER?

I know all teachers can't be painted with the same brush. This article was written in generalities. However, I can be quite certain that if I send my child to public school that there is a very good chance that they will encounter at least ONE teacher with this attitude, and that's probably being very generous.

If I am at all concerned with directing my child, nurturing my child and guiding my child, tell me truly: how can I trust a stranger - because I really don't know them - one who very well could hide very important things from me, to lead them down the path that I (and their father) have chosen as the best?

Just in case you were wondering, that's the number one reason why I homeschool.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Commandment Number Seven

My kids love the music of the Go Fish Guys. Actually, so do I. They have a terrific song about moms called The Mom Song. They also have a song called The Ten Commandment Boogie.

Now, my kids love to sing, period. Like most kids. But they really love to sing some songs more than others, and one of them is The Ten Commandment Boogie. It's a cute song. However, there's one problem and it happens to be commandment number seven.

1st Commandment: Thou shalt have no other gods before me
Song Lyric: Number One: No other God but the One is true

2nd Commandment: Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image
Song Lyric: Don't worship any other, that's commandment two

3rd Commandment: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain
Song Lyric: Number Three: Use the name of God only with respect

4th Commandment: Remember the sabbath day to keep it holy
Song Lyric: Number Four: On Sunday take a rest

5th Commandment: Honor thy father and thy mother
Song Lyric: We're half way through with one that's just for you - Listen to your mom and dad 'cause what they say you gotta do

6th Commandment: Thou shalt not kill
Song Lyric: Number Six: Don't ever take somebody's life

Can you guess what the 7th commandment is? Yep, it's the thou shalt not commit adultery one. And the song lyric?

Seven feels like heaven, but only with your husband or wife

Do you know how many times my kids pick that line to sing? They will miss the other commandments but sing commandment number seven. They have no idea what they are singing, but I'm honestly afraid they are either going to ask (at least Hannah, anyway), or BELT IT OUT IN PUBLIC!

Even if I ban the song forever, they'll still sing it from memory.

Oh the dilemmas of parenthood.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Seth's Quips.....& Kisses

A couple of nights ago in prayer meeting, Seth was looking in the back of the church where he saw one of the men sitting. I guess it must have been a different view or something, because it's just like Seth noticed something for the first time. He turned to me and excitedly said,

"MOM, LOOK! HE ONLY HAS HALF A HEAD! LOOK MOM!" This man only has a little bit of hair and is completely bald on the top of his head, which is what prompted Seth's enthusiastic remark.

I could not help but chuckle, although I did try to restrain it. That only encouraged my little comedian.

"Mom, I said something funny didn't I?" He asked. "Mom, I made a joke, didn't I?" He was very pleased with himself.

He really needs very little prompting and is very quick to pick up on a snicker of any sort. That's why I try so hard not to encourage him. His remarks can be quite embarrassing at times.


Tonight while getting out of the tub after his bath, he said, as he quite often does,

"Mom, I got bat-tized, didn't I?"

Quite often his bath brings up the discussion about baptism where he lists all the people he's recently seen get baptized. It usually ends with something like,

"Mom, am I going to get bat-tized?"

To which I reply,

"Whenever you're ready, Seth. It's up to you. Mom won't make you get baptized."

"Good. I don't want to get bat-tized, mom." He replies seriously. I quite expect this because he has a very healthy respect for water and hates getting it on his face.

I quite enjoy these little bat-tism conversations.


My son begins and ends every day with kisses. He barely has his eyes open in the morning when he starts. On the way to bed every night (he still likes me to carry him) he smothers my cheeks some more. He kisses me throughout the day, all day long. Even when he's irritable, he finds it necessary to kiss me. Every night, the last thing we do before I leave his room is our kiss routine: I kiss his forehead, chin, nose and both cheeks. He then has to do it to me. Any change in the order of the kisses results in giggles and belly laughs.

There is not a time when I do not end my day with a smile on my face because of my son's affection (although he tries me severely if he gets into his "calling me back to his room a thousand times routine").

He has not changed in this way since he was born. I say that because his big sister has changed a lot since she was little - she used to very unaffectionate but now loves being hugged and saying "I love you" a hundred different ways. I really, really hope he doesn't change because I do believe this part of his nature will in the long term make him a much better husband and father.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Sore Throats & Minor Emergency Clinics

I absolutely detest minor emergency clinics.

Maybe it's because of the years I worked in a family physicians' office. I witnessed professional, expert care first hand by the doctors I worked for. Perhaps it's because there is a big difference in the attitude of a family physician working with their own patients than a general practitioner working at a walk-in clinic with patients who are not their own. Both have the same education and training, but trust me, they generally do not have the same attitude. The majority of my experience in a walk-in clinic is one of extreme indifference by doctors who want to quickly treat your symptoms, do not have any patience to hear any history, and just want to push you through as quickly as possible.

Therefore, it was with extreme unenthusiasticness (my word) that I took my children to one on Monday night because of their sore throats. I was pleasantly surprised then when I found this to be the best minor emergency clinic I have ever been to, from the receptionist to the doctor. I mean, this doctor actually checked their ears, chest, neck for enlarged lymph nodes AND their throats, ALL IN THE SAME VISIT! ALL FOR THE SAME PAY! I was impressed. And, he was nice! And, he didn't push drugs before the throat swab came back! Unbelievable!

My good impression didn't last.

I was told by the doctor that the throat swab would be back the next day (Tuesday). I called the clinic in the late afternoon and was told, again by a very nice receptionist, that the swabs aren't even cultured until a full 24 hours after the lab has received them. She also told me that the lab always called positive results. Because she seemed very competent and because my experience with this clinic had been positive up to this point, I decided I would worry no longer, and would trust them to call me the next day if the results were positive.

I did not hear from them all day today. I was somewhat surprised as I really believed that Hannah had strep throat, even though I know that viral illnesses can make you just as sick and, in fact, are harder to deal with sometimes because there is nothing you can do but let them run their course. However, when Hannah came to me again at 4:30 crying because her throat hurt so much, I decided that I would just make sure that her throat swab was negative.

I called the clinic and again got a very nice receptionist. She asked me for my childrens' names.

I always spell my last name because usually people have no clue how to spell it. She then asked for the first names.

"That's Seth?" she asked.

"Yes." I answered.

"What's the other name?" she asked.

"Hannah." I replied.

"Hmm. I'm going to have to get the doctor to call you. I'm not allowed to give any results out over the phone."

Translated: The results are positive, but I can't tell you that.

"Okay." I said.

"Before you go, I need to ask you a couple of questions. Do your children have any allergies?" she asks.

"No." I reply.

"If the doctor needs to call in a prescription, which pharmacy do you use?" she asks.

I gave her the name of the pharmacy, the whole time thinking: Can we just skip this little game? However, I know how doctor's offices work and I know receptionists are trained to say certain things and this is not her fault. I'm also thinking that I'm very glad I did call after all and really do wonder if this would have been missed.

"What is your phone number?" she asks.

I give it to her. Then I say, "I would really like to talk to the doctor before he calls in a prescription, if he needs to call one in (going along with the little game, after all). I would like to talk to him about which antibiotic I would prefer."

"Which antibiotic is that? I mean, if you need a prescription?" She gamely continues.

"Zithromax." I reply.

Seth has had this drug a few times over the years for his ears. It really is the wonder drug of antibiotics, because it's given ONCE a day, not 3-4, and only for FIVE days maximum, not 7-10, depending on the illness. AND, there are no side effects! Now, why would I want them to have an antibiotic that causes gastric upset, try to force them to take it three times a day for 7-10 days when I don't have to? I did a bit of research and found out that because this is such a WONDERFUL antibiotic, doctors are more hesitant to give it because the more it's given, the greater chance resistance to it will be built up. Therefore, they tend to want to save this antibiotic for only when the others either don't work or are reacted to.

Since Hannah has never had Zithromax and, in fact, has only ever had Amoxil once when she was one (like I said, she's pretty healthy) and Seth has had it only a few times, with the last time being two years ago, I think - resistance phooey. I think they'll have to take it much more regularly to worry about that.

So, I settle in and wait for the doctor to call. He calls around 5:30. He completely surprises me by telling me that Seth's throat swab is positive for strep, but Hannah's isn't.

If I had been a betting person, I would have just lost the farm on this one. I was sure that her throat swab would be positive if any, not Seth's. Although his throat has been hoarse, he has not complained once about his throat (and believe me, he would, even if he did it by pointing to his throat complaining of a bellyache!).

I ask the doctor what I should do about Hannah. He tells me she should get her throat swabbed again if she's still complaining because it doesn't mean she won't get it, especially if her brother has it. He does not recommend starting her on antibiotics until she has documented strep. Again, I'm impressed with this doctor - he's not a drug pusher. I must confess, however, that for the first time I actually would have considered giving her a course of antibiotics anyway because I really couldn't see her submitting to another throat swab (not my hyper-gag-reflex daughter) so soon after the last. And she is not getting any better. And I am a little skeptical of these results. I give him the pharmacy information and he tells me he'll fax in a prescription for Zithromax (although Penicillin really is the drug of choice, he sneaks in).

I made the mistake of telling my mother. You know, I really do make this mistake often and should have my head examined. My only excuse is that, well, she's my mother. And she was asking me anyway whether the doctor had called. When I told her that I didn't know if Hannah would submit to another throat swab, she says, "Well, I would just make her!" Now isn't that brilliant? Honestly, I don't know how she managed to parent FOUR children sometimes. Please pardon my disrespect, I know I am being disrespectful, but really. As much as I love her, she frustrates me to no end sometimes. According to her, we were perfect children and she NEVER had any trouble with us. I mean, we ate all our vegetables, never fought, always obeyed, were never sneaky, never sassed. NEVER. I don't know what happened to us now as adults (at least to my brother and two sisters, anyway....ha, ha!) since we had such perfect upbringings. I very impatiently explained to her that I hadn't yet learned the technique of making a child open their mouth if a child refused to. She would be a rich woman if she invented a device or method that did this (and I would inherit some of it), so be my guest - invent away.

I asked Hannah how sore her throat really was. She said it really was. I asked her if it was worse than two days ago, or just as sore. She said that it was just as sore. I asked her if she would be willing to go through another throat swab. She said she didn't know. I told her to think about it, and, if her throat was really sore enough, I would take her again.

Lo and behold, she surprised me. Her throat really must be sore because she told me she would have another one done (even without any invention of grandmas - imagine!).

I took her in to the same clinic because, in spite of the fact that I think they forgot to call us today with Seth's positive result, they really are the best I've been to. Besides, I thought it was the same doctor on. I was wrong. It was his brother. Very, very nice doctor, but totally different philosophy on doctoring. He checked her throat, ears and chest. Not bad so far. Then he called us to his office and offered the kids a sucker while he wrote out a presciption. We went through the whole Zithromax versus Penicillin thing, and he very congenially agreed to give Zithromax. I am quite sure that if I would have told him that she needed Valium to sleep tonight he would have very congenially given me that, as well.

"Are you not going to swab her throat again?" I ask.

"Do you want me to?" he asks.

About as much as I want her to take cod liver oil, I think. However, I've been thrown off guard about this whole visit because I really wasn't expecting a prescription without a confirmed strep.

"I think it's best to have a confirmed strep, don't you?" I ask.

"I'm not one to make a child wait for five (yes, he said five) days suffering when they could have already gotten some relief from the medication." he explains.

He swabs her throat, hands me the prescription, chats with the kids and we leave.

I look at the prescription: Hannah (with her last name), age 6, 53 lbs. Zithromax.

Real good. Real educated. One of those doctors that make the pharmacist earn their pay.

However, after considering everything and discussing it with Dave, I decide to fill the prescription. Yes - I am before the result comes back, which is not my general practice or belief. However, I've had a daughter with a sore throat for a week; she has only had antibiotics ONCE before; I am really not wanting to wait until Friday at the earliest for her to get some relief; and the worst case scenario is that she takes antibiotics unnecessarily this one time - well, it will not kill her. Not a girl who is not over-antibioticed (again, my word).

Now, that's my story. If you don't agree with the antibiotic thing, please don't be too harsh. I think it's just time for the sickness to be gone if it can be.

Have I mentioned how much I detest minor emergency clinics?

Tuesday, August 19, 2008


There has been so much going on in the last couple of weeks that I'm just plain worn out. First there was a week of camp meeting. A few days after I got back from camp, I rewrote my Class 3 written exam (I will not state how many times I had to rewrite the dumb thing, but it was a few...), and I went for my road test for my Class 2 licence because I'm starting to drive a school bus in this new school year. Fortunately, I passed it on the first try which I am thankful for because it was really stressing me out. My kids have been sick, especially Hannah, who spent one day fevered with a sore throat, two days throwing up, and now is back to having a sore throat. Seth's throat has been sore, as well, although not quite as bad. Thank goodness for a good friend who helped me clue in to the fact that there was a good chance they have strep throat. Me, with all of my experience working in a doctor's office, did not think of this (duh!). I have never had strep throat and neither have my kids, so that is my excuse. I am now waiting to hear the official results on whether their throat swabs are positive, but I'll be very surprised if they're not.

My son is driving me crazy. Both my kids freak out at any type of flying insect, although Hannah is very definitely improving in this. She even stood still while a bee buzzed around her because she took her daddy's advice when he told her that she stood a greater chance of getting stung if she freaked out than if she stood still. I was very proud of her. However, Seth is completely out of control in this area and I believe is worse than his sister ever was. The other day we all went for a walk and the kid was so worked up about the bugs that by the end of the walk he was imagining that they were on his ear, in his hair, on his hat, etc. It really is to the point where he does not enjoy the outdoors at all. It's at times like this that I really am looking forward to winter because I'm sure that one of these days his sudden shrieks are going to either send me over the bridge into the river if I'm driving, or on the ground with a heart attack if I'm not. Please keep me in your prayers.

I'm planning to restart Hannah's school in a few weeks, after I establish some sort of routine with my bus route. They'll be able to come with me on my run, which is why I chose to give bus driving a try. In between my morning and afternoon runs is when I plan to do school.

I realize that I'm just rambling, which at this point is the best I can do because I'm writing with a massive headache. I've got a half dozen thoughts for different posts running through my brain, but I'll write them when I can make a half decent sentence.

Consider this a newsy update. Adios.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Flowers For His Princess

I bought this globe puzzle for Hannah about a year ago as a project we could work on together. She has always been very good at puzzles. By age four she was doing 150 piece puzzles and was getting bored with them. I couldn't find any puzzles that were 200 pieces and the 300 piece puzzles were a bit too much for her, so I bought her this one as a project we could work on together. It has 240 pieces and can be a bit tricky.

When we tried it a year ago she got frustrated very easily and I ended up finishing it by myself. It was actually more difficult than I thought, even though the pieces were numbered, because it required dexterity and precision for the whole thing not to collapse.

Today she decided again to do it. I was really, really impressed. She stuck with the task for 2-3 hours and did it, all by herself. She did not want my help at all. She did not get impatient, even once.

I didn't realize until today that the age on this puzzle said 12 and up. Pretty good for a 6-year-old if I might say so myself. And yes, I guess I am bragging, but it's my blog and that's partly what it's for.

On another note, this year I went to camp meeting by myself with the kids and Dave stayed home to try and get some work done. Perhaps I'll post more on camp meeting when I get all my thoughts in order. Anyway, on the way home I stopped in Kindersley to call him and tell him we'd be two more hours. I did this so that he would be HOME. In the past when we've been gone he hasn't always been home when we've arrived and that has been a huge disappointment to the kids and I. This time I wanted him to have plenty of warning and no excuse for not being there.

When I rounded the corner to our house, I saw that his truck wasn't there and was instantly ticked. I came in and tried to call him. He didn't answer. Then his truck pulled up, so I decided to try not to show my disappointment. Am I ever glad that I didn't.

As it turned out, I had no reason to be disappointed. He ran out at the last minute to get some flowers. Not just for me, but for his little princess as well (he got his little prince a toy). Well, you should have seen Hannah's excitement. This was the first time she'd received flowers and daddy definitely succeeded in making her feel pretty special.

The bouquet on the right is mine and the one on the left is Hannah's. Pretty awesome, huh?

And yes, I was excited, too. After all, Dave used to be the expert flower-giver and broke all records for anyone else I knew but had slacked of late. This made up for it.

Overall, it was a very nice homecoming.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Scary Monsters

At bed time tonight, Seth told me that he didn't want to go because "there were monsters in his bedroom". He talks about monsters off and on like any normal child, but this was the first time he didn't want to go to bed because of them. We had a conversation that went something like this:

"There are no monsters in your bedroom, baby, because I was just in there. And remember, Jesus is with you and He's much BIGGER than the monsters. He'll take care of you." I said.

"Jesus is bigger than the monsters?" Seth asked.

"Much, much, bigger." I answered.

"I don't like monsters, mom, but I don't mind ghosts. Ghosts don't scare me. Ghosts have ears and noses like I have (I'm not quite sure how he arrived at this conclusion but am not about to question his logic). Monsters have scary faces (he demonstrated just HOW scary - I almost trembled) and scary ears!" Seth emphasized.

In contemplating where the thought of monsters came from, I remembered him listening to a Scoobie Doo book on tape that he got for Christmas from his Auntie Donna, but it had been a while since I let him listen to it because of the emphasis on monsters. For some infathomable reason, monsters were on his mind tonight.

When he was in bed, daddy, Hannah and I knelt beside his bed and prayed, which is our normal routine. Daddy made special mention to Jesus about how BIG He was and that He could take care of the monsters and asked Him to watch over Hannah and Seth. As I was kissing him goodnight, his little brain was still working.

"Mom, is Jesus going to make the monsters go away?" He asked.

"Yes, Seth. Jesus is going to send the monsters away. He's going to take good care of you." I replied. Then I decided to try to change the subject. I said, "Remember all the airplanes you saw while we were in Calgary?" We just came home from camp meeting and while there stayed in a hotel in the airport area. Seth was totally fascinated by all the planes he saw taking off and landing every day.

"Yes. The airplanes flew up into the sky, over the water and then fell into the water!" he said.

"Fell into the water? No they didn't Seth. Why would you think they fell into the water?" I asked.

"Because there were MONSTERS in them!" He replied.

Hmm. Obviously I wasn't quite succeeding and hoped I wasn't in for a long evening. Just as I was leaving his room, he called me back to inform me that,

"Mom, I just saw Jesus send the monsters out of my room! And Hannah's room!"

"That's wonderful, Seth." I said. "See how Jesus takes care of you?"

So far I haven't heard a squawk from his room. Jesus took care of it.

I cannot imagine what he would be like if he watched TV.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Twas The Night Before Camp Meeting

It's camp meeting time again and today I got thinking about how many camp meetings I have been to - 25. I have never missed any. And every year the same pre-camp meeting chaos rules. I stay up late the night before getting ready, much of which with proper organization could be avoided. Now that I have kids it's even more of a challenge, but, it has always been worth it. So, I got this bright idea today to write a poem. I know of a few people who have the same habits as mine and can relate. This is for you - I hope you enjoy.


Twas the night before camp meeting and no one was in bed;
The house was a mess and there was chaos instead.
The stockings were strewn on the bed without care,
Along with nylons, toiletries, and tons of underwear.

The kids were running wild when they should have been asleep;
They were wound up and excited - mom wanted to weep.
They were playing and fighting and hiding and screaming,
Their faces lit up and their smiles just a-beaming.

When suddenly from the bedroom there arose such a clatter;
That mama broke speed records to see what was the matter.
And what to her extreme dismay should she see?
Broken glass where the mirror should be!

All packing had ceased for a decision about whether
To spank some kids’ bums or bang heads together.
But calmness prevailed and mom just shook her head;
And kissed them both soundly and tucked them in bed.

So with relative peace she continued her chore –
To take just six shirts, or to pack six more?
Going through her closet - well it had been a while;
And it soon became evident she was way out of style.

Wishing she’d made time for that trip to the mall;
Because last year’s skirts had shrunk five sizes too small!
She packs what she has with a shake of her head -
She’ll have to settle for her old clothes instead.

While she continues her work the dryer starts “dinging”;
So she carts up the final clothes that she’s bringing.
Ten loads of laundry later, she thinks that she’s done
And can finally finish the packing that she has begun.

As she zips up her suitcases with very big sigh;
Her son, who should be sleeping, lets out a loud cry.
“Mom! I want you!” He wails in distress;
So mom must pause again in the midst of her mess.

When finally settled, she sneaks out in relief -
To face the big mess that has brought her such grief.
The luggage is piled up high on the floor;
She moves the bags over to make room for some more.

She tackles the dishes and picks up some toys,
Trying her best not to make any noise.
At last the house is tidy and she is finally through;
When she remembers that she has one more thing to do.

It’s off to the Shopper’s that’s open all night;
She needs hairspray to ensure that her hair is just right.
Toothpaste and Tylenol for the occasional headache;
It’s like she buys out the store – for goodness sake!

She finally goes home - weary and beat;
She has a quick bath and then rests her feet.
She’s been working for days for this yearly event;
Camp meeting is here – but her energy’s spent!

Now, I must clarify - none of my clothes are five sizes too small. However, all of them still fit and the plan really was for them to be too big. I also must clarify that my kids have never broken a mirror - again I was using poetic licence.

I really wanted to add in there somewhere that it's post-camp meeting tradition for some people to leave the suitcases unpacked for weeks - (maybe even months?) but it just didn't fit.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it. I'm away to camp next week all a good night!