As 2012 wanes, I can look around me this minute to see most of what I need to know about it and us:
The Lone Star Girl is blow-drying broken crayons into some sort of art with occasional help from her sister.
I am preparing to teach tiny little Girl Scouts about girls all over the world (and cookies...) and how we can change the stories around us and make them better for the whole world.
Lone Star Pa is cleaning out space in the garage so that the Lone Star Girl can keep doing some of her Larger Scale art out there and the Lone Star Baby can play foose (sp.?) ball and other table top games (recently gifted by our next door neighbor who insists on going all empty nest and getting rid of stuff and moving stuff out to a retirement home on us, as if we are ever letting them leave) with her friends.
The animals are eating carrots. There is a globe on the kitchen table. There are piles of drawings and school papers and art supplies and books and games everywhere.
My house has evolved to be the perfect environment for fostering creative, compassionate young people. We have mad skills that way. Truly. We are a rocking organic medium. We are blessed.
You want to foster anything else? We really can't get past the mess to help with that; sorry. I may send the child to a Montessori school and love Montessori education and all but do not send the organized Montessorians over here - there is no beautiful order here, no place for everything, no spare, uncluttered lines. We have our limits. We are what we are - this is what we've got.