Honor is something that, as your mother, I will never really have the chance to teach you about. Not really.

You are a boy, growing into a man… and a man will have to show you what it means to be honorable in a manly sort of way. Your life is so full of good men that I have no doubt you will be taught well but… I do have my own feelings on the subject, you know. So I will share them with you… and maybe one day you will listen and, at the very least, see all the hope I have for your character.

Honor is comprised of so many things.  The first, I believe, is integrity. Integrity does not only mean choosing not to lie (although you should never lie… especially not to your mother). It means being true to yourself as well as with others.

At this moment in time, little man… you are living a life of complete integrity. So, your task is really quite simple in this regard: just keep doing what you are doing.  Always be honest about how you feel. Keep loving others with such reckless abandon. Dress up like a princess. Or a ninja. Or a monkey. Dance to the music in your head. Forgive and expect to be forgiven. Tell the truth and ask the same in return.  Just keep up the good work, bug.

Secondly, I truly do believe chivalry is an important part of living an honorable life. I know, I know… it is supposed to be dead and everything. But just do your mom a favor and keep in mind the five virtues of knights: friendship, generosity, chastity, courtesy, and piety. Open doors for people. Mind your manners. Help old ladies across the street. Be kind. Smile. Thank someone who is serving you: your bus driver, your waiter, the librarian or cashier. Be genuine. Treat your friends with respect. Treat women with respect. Treat strangers with respect. Tell a girl she is beautiful;  I guarantee it will make her day, even if you never know it.  These are good virtues to live by, no matter how old-fashioned they make me sound. A knight’s code will not fail you, I promise. How could it? Knights! Come on!

Also, listen to wise counsel. Choose your friends carefully and then heed their advice. It is not sensible to follow anyone blindly but, the truth is, you know when someone is reminding you of what is right– you always know in the pit of your stomach. Don’t ignore it. Be man enough to listen.

Finally, be brave.  Liam Eliot, I so hope you will be brave. I hope you will face your fears with that crooked grin I have come to love so very much and that you absolutely possess the courage to  choose not to let your fear control you. It is okay to feel afraid. It is certainly okay to admit when you are afraid. It is not okay to give fear permission to wrap it’s cold fingers around your throat and lead you around like a dog. Stand up straight. Ask for help. Face your fears.

But… here is the thing about honor, Liam… the most important thing of all to remember: in every single one of these things I have mentioned, you will fail. You will absolutely fail. You will make terrible choices. You will hurt people. You will lie. You will be careless with another person’s feelings. You will ignore good advice and you will be a bad friend. You will be cowardly. It is inevitable because you are human and humans are fallible creatures. We make mistakes. We often make big mistakes. Anyone who tells you they have never done these things is either a liar and a coward… or an idiot. Ignore them.

You are going to fail; you will probably fail big. But it is in your failure that you can be the most honorable of all.  Liam Eliot, when you make a mistake, own it. Big or small,  just… own it.  It is so tempting to run away from our sin, to deny our weakness, to blame someone else- anyone else- for our shortcomings.  This is the easy way out. This is gutless. Anyone can do it. People do it every single day.  And a lot of the time, they get away with it. That is what makes being honorable so very hard... because… you could probably get away with it.

It is hard to face your mistakes. It is hard to say you are sorry. It hurts a lot to be honest with yourself, to admit you were wrong and to do your best to make it right. It is painful to be broken in front of others; it is often humiliating.  And sometimes you are going to lose people’s trust and respect. Sometimes, you are going to lose your self-respect. It is going to take work to earn it back– a lot of very hard work.  It takes so much courage to face our failure.  And, in my opinion, it is one of the most honorable things a person can do.

You are blessed with so many great men in your life. Your uncle, your godfather, your grandfathers, and, of course, your beloved Papa are incredible, honorable men.

Learn from them, kid. You are in good hands.

I am ashamed to admit how long it has been since I have been to the library. It has been over a year…which is basically nerd blasphemy.

I have one vague recollection of wandering through the stacks with Lee strapped to my chest asleep, running my fingers along the spines of the books and walking out empty-handed. Before that, it had been months. After that, it was many more.

I will generally take a good book over a good conversation. I will pick reading over doing a great many things. I am a bookworm by nature and it cannot be helped. So, naturally, I love the library. I always have. It was one of the first things we found in new neighborhoods after moving. It was my beloved refuge. I spent a great many summer afternoon, huddled between walls of books that seemed a mile-high, paperback in hand; many quite winter evening as well. I can remember how each library in each city I have ever lived smelled. I still get a happy, nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach when I pull my freshly acquired library books out of my bag one by one and stack them up like a delicious, glossy tower.

And yet… I had never taken Liam to the library- to my library.
It was a shame. It needed to be remedied.

This morning, we made it happen. It was quite chilly but we braved the “coooold wea-der” (according to Liam) and walked to the local library.

And it was awesome.

I have watched Ryan and Liam share so many sweet moments together over common interests. Liam has reached that magical age (that will last for so many years yet) in which he genuinely loves what his Papa loves, simply because his Papa loves it… and his Papa is the coolest guy in the entire universe. My interests have always been more abstract, more solitary… even those closest to me have a hard time defining what it is I love. And that is understandable. It took me a long time to figure it out myself, to be perfectly honest.

However, this place… is something I can share with my son.

Welcome to my world, Liam Eliot.

I am so glad you could come.

When I was a teenager I thought that parents who chose to homeschool their children were basically torturing them.  Aside from the fact that they were not qualified to teach, they were also choosing to isolate their children from the world, stunt their social growth and basically ensure they would have no positive experiences, friends or even extracurricular activities to put on their oh-so-important college applications. And they might as well kiss dating good-bye.

Never in a million years would I imagine that I would not only learn to appreciate homeschooling, but that I would quite certainly fall head over heals in love with the idea of keeping Liam out of school.  But… it happened.

I suppose it was a natural progression. As I have learned more about myself and the sort of mother I am (and hope to grow into), home learning began to  seem more and more like exactly the right fit. I wasn’t entirely sold on the idea when it first crept into my head. I sort of slapped it away; spent a lot of time arguing with myself, citing all of my previously stated concerns. But, almost involuntarily, I began reading about it and gathering resources and attempting to discover if this was actually something I was capable of or if I would be doing more harm than good.

It did not take long for my excuses to disintegrate one by one under the pressure of actual knowledge and research on the subject of homeschooling. Soon, I realized that it was not only a valid learning option but that it was a valid learning option that I genuinely liked.

So, I decided that, if life allowed it, I might enjoy homeschooling Liam. At first, I thought I would most definitely need a set curriculum if I was going to pull it off. I looked up ideas online, toyed with the thought of buying a few textbooks to get prepared, investigated the Montessori method and was very drawn to the Waldorf approach.  But slowly, I became increasingly interested in a more laid-back, child-led approach to learning.

I am not going to get into the semantics, terminology or “rules” of the various types of homeschooling at this time. I am sure as it becomes a part of our life it will seep into this space so there will be time for all of that. Homeschooling never looks the same twice; there are about as many versions as there are families who practice it. And I am falling in love with this mix-n-match version that Ryan and I are piecing together for our family. Not because I feel like it is a superior learning experience and not because it would be universally right for any family if they would just open themselves up to it. The choices we make for our children are just never that simple. I am drawn to it because I believe that this is the life our family was meant to live.  Allowing our children to learn at home will give our entire family the freedom and motivation we need to live an amazing story. And that is what we value: living a good story.

So, after much discussion, and self-doubt, and second-guessing and more discussion… we have decided to do it. Officially.
We are homeschoolers.

Making this choice is a little bit scary paralyzingly terrifying. But I plan to explore both those fears and my excitement about this journey later. There is time. (There is both world enough and time.) For now, I am just sort of settling in with the idea; allowing myself to feel scared and nervous and happy and all of the other emotions I feel whenever I look at my son and realize what a huge choice we are making for him in this moment. I am praying every day for the grace to face the challenge and to enjoy it as well, to remain determined but flexible… and to keep putting one foot in front of the other, in spite of the butterflies in my tummy.

We are going to make mistakes, of course. That is the only guarantee, isn’t it? However, if I can achieve an environment that nurtures my child’s love of learning, if I can fill his memories with beautiful experiences and help his little green brain to twist and grow and wrap around knowledge with strength and courage then I will consider myself successful. I have an inkling that he is going to make it rather easy for me.  I tend to be a fairly objective person… and, I have to say, my kid is smart.

[He is also an incredible dancer. Just like his Mama.]

One of the wonderful things about home learning is that it never has to start and it never has to stop. As I am in the beginning stages of educating myself on how to document Liam’s experiences, I have been forced to really take a look at all the learning this kid does every single day. He is 2 years old; every experience is a “learning experience.”  Our lives are already so full of questions, experiments, art, music, reading, numbers, letters, colors, creativity, friendships, field trips, and so many moments of pure, unadulterated learning.

We are so busy learning and growing….when exactly would we have time for school?  

Our New Year’s weekend was pretty spectacular. It left me feeling pretty optimistic about the year to come.

We started with a Baby’s New Year Pizza and Pajama Party for friends, both new and old.

It doesn’t get much better than a bunch of cute babies in their ‘jammies on New Year’s Eve… except maybe spending the evening with a cute geek in his ‘jammies on New Year’s Day.

(and yes, I did get the man’s permission before plastering his underwear all over the internet; but please notice the ensemble here: the Batman boxers, the Marvel pajama bottoms, the Ninja Turtles tee… this, ladies, is who I sleep with every night. He is so cute. You are jealous, I know.)

But before we settled in for a night of cheap champagne, popcorn and Scrabble, my Geek and I took our offspring out for his first ride on his new bike.

It was an amazingly beautiful day and my kid looked so grown up riding his bicycle around. We played on the jungle gym at the elementary school across the street and he was a total monkey on that thing. Then he climbed back on his bike and rode around the block.

I mean, this growing up stuff… it slows down eventually, right?

After the Gremlin drifted off, Ryan busted out the comic pajama bottoms and we settled in by electronic fireplace (thanks, Netflix!) to end the first day of the new year with an exciting game of Scrabble.

…you know…just in case our collective nerd status wasn’t totally sold on you yet.

He won. But by less than you might think.

Maybe this year will live up to its start.
One can only hope.

I think anyone who is undecided about whether or not to have children should spend the holidays with one. Even if it did not convince them to run off and spawn, I think it would help them to see a little bit of why parents put up with all the various bodily fluids and countless tantrums and sleepless nights.

Christmas is a wonderful example of the absolute, unadulterated joy and beauty that having a child brings into your life.

When I was around 17, Christmas began to lose a little of its magic. The rituals and traditions started to lack in their general coziness and appeal. I did not know why and I did not like it.  I still wanted to love Christmas. I still wanted to go to bed with butterflies in my tummy. I still wanted the month of December to inch by, to wake up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning and chase my parents into the living room, to have the same sense of wonder and awe at the entire idea of the holiday. I still wanted to be a little girl.

But I wasn’t.

I would go through the motions, trying my best to be enthusiastic, wanting so desperately to feel even the tiniest fraction of what I had felt just the year before… and every year before that. Really, Christmas was still nice. My parents have always done a wonderful job of creating lovely holidays for our little family and those years, which I jokingly refer to as “The Lost Years” were just as sweet as the years before. It just wasn’t the same.

I have always hated growing up.

Then we had Liam…

Seriously? Our first Christmas as parents sucked. It totally blew.  After our plans for Liam to come home from the NICU were unceremoniously shattered, Ryan and I opted out of all family gatherings and had Christmas dinner at a local pub, trying to pretend that our hearts were not completely broken while simultaneously wallowing.  That is not exactly an easy thing to do, folks..but we definitely mastered it that year.

The next year was a little better. We had our boy home and I was oh, so grateful for his sweet presence. However, our family went through some personal and traumatic events leading up to the holidays and it left us all a bit delicate and shaken.  We tried though. We really did try.  It will forever be held in my mind as a bittersweet Christmas.

But this year…
this year… rocked my face off.

We went shopping, to festivals and to parades. We created and baked and listened to Christmas music nonstop. Liam Eliot learned about Christmas trees and baby Jesus and ornaments and Santa Claus and stockings and snowmen (although we were slightly disappointed by the lack of snow). We strung our house with lights. We followed old traditions, picked up a few new ones and delighted in the entire season.

And when Christmas weekend finally arrived…
I went to bed with butterflies in my tummy again.

Thanks to some awesome thrift store finds, great online sales and a bit of creativity, Liam had quite a large haul under our tree this year. We always hope to keep our holidays simple, emphasize the joy of giving and focus on family and traditions rather than gifts. However, Lee is 2 this year. It is the perfect age in my opinion: he is old enough to spoil but too little to be spoiled. So, Ryan and I allowed ourselves to go a tad bit crazy… just this once.

It was totally worth it.

We found the drums, blocks, and several other smaller gifts at various thrift stores.  The sensory box is Mama-made. The train set was purchased long ago, stashed and forgotten. And the bike?

That beautiful bike was worth every penny. (And, yes.. that is a coffee stain on my boy’s shirt. He enjoys a fresh cup of joe in the morning, okay? Don’t judge.)

I even upheld my promise to make our cinnamon rolls from scratch this year. And they were pretty darn tasty, I must say.

As it will always be, our quiet family morning was followed by family celebration after family celebration.  And we loved every minute of it.

My son will never be lacking in family this time of year. His childhood will be filled with fond memories, cozy rituals and lots of love. I am so grateful. And having Mr. L… is like Miracle Grow for my holiday spirit.

The magic, my friends, is back… with a vengeance.

As Lee would say, “Oh. Dere’s da magic.”

I am sort of ridiculous about what goes into my family’s mouths these days.  I started out slightly ridiculous and I am working my way up to full-blown ridiculous. At the moment, we are in transition and so, every once in a while, we throw caution to the wind and indulge. The holiday season is most definitely one of those times.

Liam Eliot has become quite a helper. Basically, I do not do a single chore around the house without my second-hand man. It does make things go a little bit more slowly and sometimes Lee’s idea of helping is actually, you know, dispersing Mama’s dirt pile more evenly over the entire floor or crawling into the freshly made bed to make sure the sheets are were nice and smooth. But I am so keenly aware that this boy will not always be so eager and willing to help me and spend every moment by my side so I am savoring this time, regardless of the unmade beds and dirty floors and duplicate chores all around.

Most recently, Liam has taken an interested in baking. I love it. I have always enjoyed baking and sharing the experience with my little has been such fun!

Today, we decided to spread the love and invite our friends over to bake some yummy Christmas cookies!

(Thank you for the awesome apron and hat, Gigi! We love them!)

Scarlet was a little intimidated by the process so Chef Liam took charge. He poured and mixed like a pro. He even read the recipe and helped crack the eggs! I think we may have a prodigy on our hands.

While we waited for the dough to chill, Liam set aside his Chef status for his other favorite occupation: superhero. He and Scarlet played in his room and were adorable, as usual.

After our brief hiatus, we went into Super Baking Mode and cut, baked, iced and decorated our cookies like mad! It is all a blur. (Literally… every picture I tried to take was blurry! I need a new lens labeled: toddler.) There was flour and sprinkles everywhere. At some point, the children learned that the cookie dough was yummy so there was much tasting happening… and a fair amount of giggling as well.

But when it was all said and done, we had some pretty delicious… and colorful looking cookies!

And finally, it was time for the very best part of all: eating!

So, the little bakers stuffed their faces then refused to eat lunch. Liam concluded the morning by crashing into a sugar-induced coma, worn out by all of the epic holiday fun.

It’s good to be two.

Our neighborhood’s annual 24 hour block party was this Saturday and we spent the entire day enjoying various activities on the packed itinerary. It was not our first time at the festival but it is our first year as residents of the Southside and we were reminded yet again why we love living here.  It is such a fun, beautiful place to live.

We started the morning at the firehouse down the street. Liam Eliot has recently discovered the joys of all things that go, and fire trucks are at the top of his list at the moment.  He has two fire hats in his dress up bin that he and Papa are required to wear all day long (the red one is his and the black one is Papa’s and don’t you dare mix them up!)  and all of his toy cars are quickly labeled fire trucks before they head off to zoom around the living room floor. (He will be getting an actual toy firetruck for Christmas this year. SHHH!) 

Liam was absolutely beside himself at the fire station. He was memorized by the trucks and infatuated with the fire men. I have never seen him so excited in his entire little life.. which is saying a lot for my excitable little boy.

I think it is safe to say it was the highlight of his entire day… and it was the very first stop!

Afterward, we walked down the  hall to a pancake breakfast that our very smart Papa had won tickets too.  The pancakes were delicious (as were the doughnut holes we had picked up on the way).  Liam quickly found the various guitars left by the folk school performers and had a grand time jamming out and stuffing his face with carbs.

Then… it was time for the parade.

Liam felt a little inintimidated by all the loud noises, but he peeked out from his safe place to watch a few of his favorite things and we did get to see some friend’s marching in the parade as well!

Before heading home for lunch, we walked around for a little while, peeking in on a couple of the events, eating some candy and finally stopping in at Battle Academy for an art show and… a little chess.

In the evening, Papa had a previous engagement *cough*geek*cough* so Liam and I headed down to The Camp House to have a cup of coffee (or.. lukewarm chocolate for the short one) and listen to some music. My boy loves music!

Sometimes, having a kid is hard… but every once in a while a day like this happens, and you are reminded that having a kid also makes every experience more memorable. Kids think the world is full of magic. What they don’t know is that they are the magic. No… they won’t learn that until they have one of their very own and they watch him lose himself in his excitement over seeing a fire truck up close for the very first time or watch him dance his heart out at the foot of a stage. Then they will get it. It was them all along.

Oh, yes. It was a pretty awesome day for one sweet toddler and his Mama and Papa.

Please stand by… for a current Haddock family photo:

Oh, well… we are still pretty cute, don’t you agree?

My friend Kathryn made me a mix CD in high school. On it, she put a Five Iron Frenzy song titled simply “Dandelions.”  I remember tearing up at the image of a young boy bringing his mother a bouquet of dandelions.  Even then, at 16 years old with absolutely no clue about what it meant to be a mother, I still recognized the beauty in that moment.

Now I have my own boy with “bluest eyes that spark with lightening.”  And it means so much more. The song goes on to speak of other things; to make the moment into a metaphor..but I always get stuck in those first few verses.

I received my very first dandelion the other day. Liam went on a walk with his Nana and returned with a flower. Under Nana’s guidance, Liam ran to me to hand me his prize with his award-winning smile on his face. It basically made my life. I am grateful I had the presence of mind to snap a picture.

My very first flower from my little boy.  I am a happy Mama.