In This Autumn

image courtesy mamabegood.blogspot.comThis Autumn Striker turned 16, B.Lake turned 13, and Cheesy  hit double digits.  In ten days Baph will be 20, and just eight days after that Bee will turn 7.

This autumn Bee lost all four of her front teeth, and is now growing her big teeth.  I should take lots of pictures quickly, because I know the face is never the same, after those outsized adult teeth show up.  Bee is already a strange mixture of child and adult.  She struggles with reading, but thinks deeply and asks challenging questions – like, “Did the Bible come from heaven, or was it made on earth?”.  When I answer her questions she looks at me with an expression that says, “I’ll accept that answer for now.  We’ll return to this subject at a later time.”

This autumn B.Lake ran cross country for the first time and we all found that he’s really, really good at it.  I watched him run a couple of times, still going strong at the end of two miles as kids around him struggled to finish.  This is no small thing; for a boy who has a learning disability and ADHD, to be successful in some area of life is priceless.  This winter he’s going to try wrestling.  In the spring, it will be track and field.

This autumn Cheesy started taking voice lessons.  It is a blessing to us that they are available, being taught by a close friend with lots of experience.  I am not unbiased, I know, but I have always loved hearing Cheesy sing.  She started humming along with things like this long before she could talk.  She is a wild child, but my, she can sing.

This autumn we skyped with Baph several times and I chatted with him on Facebook lots of times, and missed him terribly.  But I’ve learned that I can let one of my children go and survive.  I guess this is a good thing to learn, as it will come in handy in the future.  Baph is well and happy at Lee Abbey and has made many friends with exotic sounding names.  Striker is now determined to follow in his footsteps after she finishes high school.

This autumn Striker got her first – and we hope only – concussion playing soccer.  She now wears a head guard when she plays.  It doesn’t look as dorky as it sounds.

This autumn Mr. Right adjusted to a new job which sometimes means working from home.  I worried too much about how that would be possible in our tightly packed house, but it’s turned out to be no big deal.

This autumn I took two more classes toward ordination; wrote and taught a seven week class on early church history; spent my Mondays working at church and my Fridays at homeschool co-op classes; wrote some Advent readings for church; had my first job review; watched a lot of Buster Keaton and Val Lewton movies; taught Cheesy and Bee a new hymn every week; wished I had more time for friends, blogging, and exercise, and tried dyeing my hair a different color.  It didn’t really take.

Those are some of the highlights…but there have been others:  trick or treating and field trips and star gazing and Bee’s reaction to my “new” hair color (“You have orange hair.  You should fix it.  But I still like your eyes and smile.”).  I lose a lot, between my poor memory and my frantic approach to daily life. I’d like to hold on to more of these moments.

The pumpkin that we never got around to carving is still outside, waiting to rot.  I need to salvage the seeds for roasting.  The yard is covered with leaves and we are breaking out the winter coats.  We are making holiday plans and I am making shopping lists in my head.  Advent is almost here.  This autumn is almost over.

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About Sharon Autenrieth

Wife, mom to 5, homeschooler, Christian Education Director, idealist, malcontent, follower of Jesus.
This entry was posted in Daily Life, parenting. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to In This Autumn

  1. I haven’t caught up with your posts in a while, but they are always a pleasure to read. I have several quick comments on more than one post:
    So glad you’re taking the concussion thing seriously.
    Your 7-year old’s comments about your hair are hilarious and heartwarming.
    I really don’t like church services (they feel too much like a ceremony to me, and I like life to be totally casual. For one thing, there are others.), but I really enjoyed your comments about sermon subjects and your friend Kevin’s comments.
    Too hilarious that that one guy thinks men shouldn’t listen to women in leadership positions. That’s stunningly stupid. Women can be wildly irrational, yes, but they cut to the chase so much more quickly than men sometimes, and great thinking knows no gender.
    Didn’t know there was a “St. Kevin”, though of course that makes sense.
    I’m probably old enought to be your dad, but I have a 7-year old myself, and the words that come out of her mouth always leave me guessing too. She has such a soft voice usually, and I’m somewhat deaf and have a lot of road noise with my car. I often wish I could “mic her up” (as they say in sports coverage) and record her every word.

    Kevin

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    • I was just wondering (especially as a woman married to a Kevin), does it make sense that there IS a St. Kevin, or that he would be the one leaping naked into nettles?

      I’ll also add that, like you, I’m somewhat deaf. I hate the fact that I’m forever having to ask my kids to please look directly at me, slow down and repeat themselves. Definitely one of the uncoolest things about being a middle aged parent.

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      • If he had been like me, he probably would’ve just been too shy to talk to the lady with “eyes of unholy blue”, but I can’t see him beating her with burning nettle branches. I suppose as an Irishman there wasn’t much chance of him changing religions and marrying her.

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      • You know what? I think you officially know more than I do about St. Kevin. I had trouble finding much about him. So kudos, sir.

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  2. Bill says:

    Enjoy it, because it will race by. I miss the wisdom of seven year olds. But our two kids are coming home from college today and it will be nice to have the nest unempty again.

    I remember that not long after our son had learned to talk he was able to memorize the Lord’s Prayer and we included it as part of our bedtime routine. I’m not sure how much time passed before I realized he had been saying, “Our Father, who aren’t in heaven….”

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