I looked them both in the eyes as we studied, and I realized just how little I actually look at them carefully, intentionally.
I tend see them all collectively, which isn’t fair to any of us.
Each so unique and special, I love their personalities.
He can talk non-stop about black holes or cuttlefish or light sabers.
She sits and pours every ounce of attention on the story in her chapter book.
The little two are just as special – with those big eyes and bigger smiles.
If I close my eyes, I can see the outlines of each little face…but not their eyes.
Sad that I’ve gone so long without paying attention.
Grateful that I realized it now.
My first homework assignment is to look in their eyes, to listen and to really hear.

We start the morning with scripture and breakfast.
Copycatting phrase after phrase, rote memorization.

Even after only a few days, they know it well.
I pray they always will.
(I’ve promised that they can pick next week’s verse.)

Our day starts chugging gently like a train until we are full-steam ahead.
The little two mostly play while we bounce back and forth from lesson to lesson.
Alden likes to sit in Lydi’s lap while we read, and so we all three cuddle during school.
It seems so natural, and yet it is a novelty to us.

Carter prefers working at his desk.
I give him a checklist every morning and he checks it off methodically.
Lydia loses hers a few times every day.
They are us, I tell Marshall.
I knew it would be hard, I tell him, but it wasn’t as hard as I expected.
I knew it would be trying at times, but we haven’t had any major meltdowns.  (yet.)
And then contentedly I say:  I knew it would be wonderful, but I had no idea how much it would flood my heart with happy.