This poem reminds me so much of my Rebecca, who is exceedingly fond of ladybugs, and is constantly "taming" them.  She carries them around in her hand, and speaks to them just as though they can understand every word.  The other day she had one on the school table and it flew away.  She found it a couple of days later upstairs in our bedroom.   She was sure it was the same one, because it came right to her when she called it.  It went missing again, and a few days later, Gabriel came running, all excited because he had found Becca's 'Nelle (short for "coccinelle"), sleeping in a window upstairs.

* edited to add photo and missing words!

Katja saw me turning the stereo on when she came in from playing outside in the snow. 

“Oh, Mamma,” she said, “Can you put on something that sounds warm?  I’m so cold!”

Whatever it was that started playing pleased her.  

We thank the Lord for our beautiful fourth daughter.  She was born on Aug 12th, slightly premature at 36 weeks, but strong and healthy.  She weighed 4 lbs and 12 oz (2160g).  It's hard to imagine how tiny she is! 

We named her Felicity Bessie, and we are very, very happy she is here. 

...and her new clothespins!

She was jumping up and down when Papa brought these home from the store!  Hanging out the laundry can hardly be called a "chore" for her. 

(click on the pictures for a larger view.)

Can you see who it is? 

(clickable)

It's not a very good picture, but "Welcome Robin" is a welcome sight indeed!  Spring is coming...

In 1964, Gilles Vigneault wrote a song called "Mon Pays", which has become a kind of winter anthem for Québec (see the Encyclopedia of Music in Canada for an article on its significance).  Many Québécois have these lyrics running through their head today!

MON PAYS

Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon jardin ce n'est pas un jardin, c'est la plaine
Mon chemin ce n'est pas un chemin, c'est la neige
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver

Gilles Vigneault

(For the rest of the lyrics, click here.)

(photos are clickable)

"Ma mignonne" and her baby

"Hiding" from his sister!

Winter pleasures

More winter fun!

Gabriel started to say a new word while we were gone :  Maman.  Actually, he said Mama before, but now it really means me.  Usually it means, "Maman, I want something", and he usually says it at least three times in a row. 

This morning while I was dusting the living room, he came over to me.

"Maman, Maman, Maman."

"Qu'est-ce qu'il y a (what is it), Gabriel?"

When I looked down at him, he wrapped both of his pudgy little arms around my legs and gave me a big hug, then went off to play. 

We spent last weekend in the Beauce, a beautiful region of Quebec south of Quebec City.  We always enjoy visiting the church there.  While we were there, Katja lost her first tooth, and Gabriel started to say "Papa".  He's the only one of the children who has said Papa before Mama.  I was proud of Annalissa; Katja was scared to go to Sunday School (although we've been to this church several times, her special friend was away), but Annalissa bravely walked off holding Katja's hand without a tear or even a quivering lip!

This past week, some of us were sick, but the virus seems to have moved on , thankfully.  Yesterday, my husband was lying on the sofa, feeling quite ill; Annalissa, our nurturer, covered him up tenderly with a blanket.  A little while later, both she and Rebecca prayed for him; it was so sweet to hear them!  The simple faith of our children is often an encouragement to us.  My husband was also moved to pray, after hearing their ferverent prayers for him, almost immediately began to feel better, and was able to get up and continue getting ready for Sunday.  This morning, he told me he felt better than he has for two weeks.  "I cried unto the LORD with my voice and he heard me... (Ps. 3:4)"

Katja has been working on number recognition.  One morning last week, I wrote a number in large print on several sheets of blank paper, and then placed them in a row on the table.  They were not in chronological order.  Some were easy, lower digits that she knows well; others she has difficulty with.  Then I gave her the button box and asked her to put the correct amount of buttons on each page.  She chose seven of the prettiest buttons she could find and carefully placed them all along the lines of the number seven, and then made other creative arrangements on all of the other pages as well. 

Meanwhile, Rebecca had dug into the button box on her own and sorted them into specific piles:  all the green ones together, all the brown ones in another pile, etc.  She sorts everything right now.  One of her favourite “chores” is putting the cutlery away in the correct container.

Annalissa was working in her Caillou activity book.  I don’t know how much she learns from it, but she loves the stickers!  If nothing else, she is learning to follow directions.

The button box is one of our favourite school things.  My husbands grandmother gave me a tin, about 10” by 10” full of buttons that she had collected over the years.  Most of them are very old; some of them are very pretty.  The girls all love to dig in there and pick out their favourites.

My husband is planning a trip to a conference on the West Coast in a couple of weeks.  He will only be gone for three days, but they will be three long days for us.  His office is at home, so we see a lot of him.  Even though he is working, and we try not to bother him during office hours, it's nice to know he is there, and we usually share every meal.

Yesterday, after he had spent the better part of the day before away from home, I said to the girls, "Whatever will we do when Papa goes away for three whole days?!"

Annalissa immediately replied, "Pray!"

Indeed.  Pray without ceasing.

Just like Mamma!  Rebecca set up her own little iron (my hand mixer) and ironing board (the garbage can).  I look forward to the day when she puts this learning to good use by ironing our Sunday clothes!

I just went caught Rebecca in the kitchen getting into something she is not allowed to get into.  There she was at the table with a box of cereal, covering her eyes with her hands - so I didn't see her, of course. 

This is what Picture Study looked like at our house this week:

First, I modeled Picture study.  I had a book about Renoir from the library, from which I chose a picture to study.  After looking at it for a couple of minutes, I described it with as much detail as I could, while she looked at the picture.  Then it was Katja's turn.  She studied "Jeunes filles au piano" for a couple of minutes. 

This is her discription (I believe it’s almost verbatim, but I did copy it all down after she was finished, not as she spoke.) :

"There’s a girl at the piano, with long blonde hair.  She’s wearing a white dress with a bow – blue, I think.  Beside her is a lady, I think her mother, with black, no brown hair and she’s wearing an orange dress.  It’s a fancy dress.  Ther’s music on the piano and things on the piano, I think to hold candles.  Behind them is a green divan –“

This is where I interrupted her (which I should not have done).  "No, sweetheart, it’s a curtain.”

"No, not the curtain.  Behind the curtain.”

I hadn’t looked that far…

Katja went on to say that there is a green curtain behind the girls.  She couldn’t remember what the girl in the white dress was sitting on, nor what was on top of the piano. 

This is an easy way to make her familiar with beautiful artwork and train her eye to really see, all while filling up her internal picture gallery. 

" We cannot measure the influence that one or another artist has upon the child's sense of beauty, upon his power of seeing, as in a picture, the common sights of life; he is enriched more than we know in having really looked at even a single picture (Charlotte Mason, in Home Education, p. 309)."

Our little Rebecca, who I call "ma grande fille en miniature" (my  big girl in miniature) is 2 1/2 and weighs 21 lbs.  However, this is not because she has a small appetite.  She is always the first one to come and ask for something to eat between meals. 

The other day, she saw me beginning to prepare lunch. 

"I'll go call Papa," she said as she ran to the basement door. 

"No, no, no, Rebecca," I stopped her, "lunch isn't ready yet."

She came running back into the kitchen. 

"But I'm ready!" she said.