just took this picture tonight – horse shirt, feathers in her hair from an American Girl class about Kaya, showing us her new guitar talents (Twinkle, Twinkle never sounded so good!)
To the box of breakfast cereal: “Which one of your will volunteer to go first (starts whispering) into my bowl?”
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Yesterday in the van, she was reading and reading and reading. Not hearing what any of us was saying. I was thinking about how we work hard to teach our children to love reading, yet when they devour the books in short hours and they stop talking for all the reading, I miss them a little.
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The first year that she took piano, she cried and hated practice. The second year, there were no more tears, and she loved lessons even more, if that was possible. Now, on her fifth year, the piano is a familiar friend and playmate. She confidently walks into lessons and sits down to astonish her teacher who so sweetly encourages her on to the next big thing. What a joy this has become!
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