A time for every season -- but I want more than a split-second.

The boxes arrived last week and I have spent the last few days organizing our homeschool room. As I sit and plan for the next school year, my emotions are all over the place. This is the last time I will plan the year for Benjamin, Mason and Claire. This is their senior year, their last year in my little classroom. And though, I know they aren't leaving my life forever, they will leave the little area where we "do school" and stretch their wings and fly. I am eager for them, anxious for me and delighted for the world to engage with my amazing trio.

Homeschooling my three -- now four -- was not my original plan. Ok, to be honest, it was my original plan if you count the plan I made when they were three and I could not bear the thought of them ever leaving me. But it was not a plan that we really thought would work once we knew the significance of Benjamin's physical restrictions. We frankly assumed that trained educators would know more than me. We assumed that somebody had to know how to help this bright young boy access all his strengths and get them on paper. We assumed.

And because I am not sure I've shared our whole story here, today I think it is time. Time for me to say that sometimes as parents we have to make the hard choice. Sometimes as parents, we have to do the unthinkable, the crazy, the jump-off-a-cliff choice. That happened for us when the trio hit sixth grade.

Little Red on "Box Day" -- the day our books arrive for the upcoming school year! Think CHRISTMAS in July!!

We had been rolling along -- literally -- and experiencing some of the best educators our country has to offer. We had great experiences in Minnesota -- though not without challenges -- and we had an astounding experience in Texas with a teacher that frankly changed our thinking and made a life-long impact on not only Benjamin but all of us. We moved to Arizona expecting much of the same and we did encounter some fantastic teachers. But around fifth grade we started hitting some road blocks -- some the choices of a couple of educators, some the mere size of the classrooms, some the struggles of school getting harder and Benjamin's physical challenges impacting that more.

She wants to read all the books right now!

It was a perfect storm. By sixth grade, I was losing my charming boy. His personality was getting lost in the frustration of navigating a system that never intended to be navigated by a child in a wheelchair as bright as he is. Our home life was reflecting the storm. In an effort to make my wonderfully square-pegged child fit into the extremely round peg of the school we were attending, we were doing homework from 4-8 every single night. A two-year-old climbing on my back, no supper in sight, we sat at the table and worked and worked until we were all in tears.

One night a precious God-given friend called from Mississippi. As I tersely answered her call, she asked about what we were doing. Near tears, I explained. And this brilliant friend said, "Oh Carol. You ARE homeschooling. You are just doing it at the worst time of the day."

And a light bulb of an idea went off in my head.

We brought all three home at Christmas that year. It was sixth grade, I reasoned. How bad could I mess them up? If it didn't work, we could re-enroll them for seventh grade and they would be no worse for the wear. Right?

Except, this thing -- this wonderfully hard, crazy thing -- worked. It worked. We were able to get school done, have physical therapy, do some extra-curricular activities and be ready to sit down and have dinner as a family when Dad got home. It was amazing.

Now, I can tell you that there have been struggles. There have been days where I wanted to run through the desert screaming and pulling my hair out and wondering how in the world I could return to teach Chemistry, Pre-Calculus or look at one more Spanish test. There have been those days.

And I have no doubt this year will bring more of those (We are adding Calculus and Anatomy and Physiology, after all. Why oh why can't life be more about British Lit and essay writing?).

But here is what I am burdened to tell you -- and this applies to you whether you homeschool or not -- the days may seem long, my friends, the days may seem run-through-the-desert-screaming-long, but oh dear ones, the seasons are so so short.

1968 -- my birth (and I'm sure angels were singing, right?)

1974 -- my brother's birth (maybe angels sang then too!)

1976 -- I knelt beside my parents' bed with my Daddy and prayed for Jesus to be my Savior. (I know Angels sang!)

1979 -- my next brother's birth (angels may have sang, but I wanted a sister! I love you, L!)

1986 -- my high school graduation

1990 -- my grad from MSU!

1991 -- Married my love.

1995 -- Wade and I moved to Chicago.

1997 -- The triplets were born!!

1999 -- Our family moved to Minnesota

2004 -- Our family moved to Texas.

2005 -- Our family  moved to Arizona and Cate was born!!

2015 -- My trio will graduate from high school!

2023 -- Cate will graduate from high school.

2030 -- I will be 62. Whew.

Can you look at my little chart I have spent the afternoon making? I need you to see the two orange sections and the blue section. The orange colors the years I had preschoolers. The blue the years my children were at home before college.

Now, I know they might come back and live here. I hope so. But what I need you to see is just how short the years are. Just how very very short. I know that when you are changing a million diapers a day or teaching a strong-willed child (or four) to obey, the days seem never-ending. I just can not get past the fact that the orange seasons were so very short. The days spent in the throes of mothering little bitties who required all my attention was so brief.

And even my homeschool years have flown. The days spent conjugating verbs in Spanish, diagramming sentences and dissecting earthworms on the kitchen table will be over in the blink of an eye.

So, can I encourage you today to look at your own version of my timeline? Can you look at your life, and see how brief this season -- whatever season you are in -- is? Can you purpose to embrace today? To find a way to celebrate this year, this month, this day? Because all too soon, you are going to be looking back at the seasons and I want those stripes on your timeline to be packed with memories made, time enjoyed and love given and received.

Little Red turning One.

Last day of Kindergarten.

With Dad seizing the moments of summer before the trio's senior year and Cate's 4th grade!

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven....[God] has made everything beautiful in its time."  Ecclesiastes 3:1,11a (NIV)

You might be a school supply addict if you wax poetic over a box of crayons.

The cashier at Target dropped our brand new box of crayons. Crayons went everywhere. The little pointed tips were broken. The wrappers dirtied from the floor. She shoved them into the box willy nilly and handed them to me. I shook my head no even before my mouth could formulate the words, "You are getting her a new box, right?"

She grunted. So I tried to laugh it off with, "I love a new box of crayons."

She grunted again, "They won't stay new for five seconds after she opens them."

I smiled but I'm pretty sure my voice dropped an octave or two as I said, "But really, we are getting a new box, right?"

And maybe I was silly for insisting on a fresh new box. Maybe. But I don't regret it. Opening a new box of crayons is one of our favorite parts of the new school year.

The colors are ripe with personality. Lined up, wearing their best, just waiting for Little Red to pick a favorite and make a creation. The shades of purple are her favorites. She uses them up first. But she likes the greens, the blues, the reds. (Of course in this house, the maroon crayon is a mere nub by the end of football season! Bringing all manner of joy with the creations it produces.)

When I cleaned our school room last week and tossed the old box of crayons, only the browns and grays remained. Frankly, it seemed fitting to me. The spring anticipation of Benjamin's surgery and the summer of surgery/recovery has seemed a bit gray, a bit colorless.

But last night as I set that brand new -- undropped -- box of crayons on her little desk, I smiled. We are ready to add the color back. We are ready to open that box and pull the fuchsia right out and go to town. It is time.

Oh the blessing of a brand new box of crayons. May your day be filled with the promise of color, the blessing of hope and the smell of crayons and construction paper!

(We have a week before school starts around here...stay tuned for some Disney fun! Of course!)

Hail to the Chief?

When my little trio were in first grade, we hit a roadblock with their teacher. My Benjamin needed to leave the class at a certain time of day and upon returning he was usually alone because in his eagerness to return to the classroom he did not wait for his aide to accompany him, rather just independently drove back. However, the door would be closed and my boy could not knock. So he used his six-year-old problem-solving skills and determined to ram his chair into the door so that the tray would effectively alert the class he needed someone to open the door.

I frankly thought he was a genius. The teacher, not so much.

She found his solution disruptive and as we discussed options -- she flat out refused to just leave the door open for this small bit of time -- I sensed frustration in my dear boy. (Ok, and perhaps some anger in me.)

My trio circa 2004 -- they were actually just finishing 2nd grade here...but you can see the tray!

So, when during this season, Benjamin woke crying, Mama Bear came running with claws bared. Certain. Certain. Absolutely certain that he was fretting over how to get into the classroom when the door was closed. And more importantly, I was absolutely certain that his self-esteem was suffering. Oh, I was certain.

When I reached his bedside, and knelt down to talk to him, my little sobbing boy looked up at me with big worried eyes. Here we go, I thought, as he said, "Mommy.?"

"Yes, my darling boy," I said, ready to assure him of my dragon-slaying ability. I was ready to solve this problem even if it meant Mama Bear removing the door to his classroom from the hinges. "Yes, dear?"

"Mommy, I am worried."

"I know, son, how can I help?"

"Mommy, I am worried that when I get elected president of the United States, they won't let you live in the White House with me."

Oh. Is that all? Hmm. Seems his self-esteem wasn't suffering!

Alas, we have entered the teenage years. The years when dreams change, self-esteem wanes and Mama Bear isn't allowed to swoop in and try to save the day.

Deep sigh.

However, this weekend, I received a glimpse of that big-dreamer of the pre-teenage years. Our annual Homeschool Convention had a teen tract through Generation Joshua to teach the kids about citizenship, democracy and elections. The first day of the convention was filled with learning how a caucus is run, dividing the teens into two parties and holding a primary. At the end of the day, I walked up to the classroom doors to hear an enormous cheer erupt. Enormous. I stood quietly smiling to myself, eager to hear if my three had enjoyed their day and to ask what the cheer was.

I didn't have to wait. A friend came out ahead of the mass -- she had gone inside to find her son. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she told me that cheer had been for my son. For my Benjamin. He had just won his party's primary and the crowd had gone crazy.

Oh goodness.

Ready to campaign.

The second day was filled with campaigning, debates, speeches and the all-important, voting.

Benjamin and his awesome team!

I have to confess that I snuck into the debate. My boy -- who just finished 9th grade -- was up against a high school graduate who had obviously been preparing for this opportunity. Benjamin was just rolling with it. This kid had more charisma in his little finger than his opponent could muster in his whole body. I was so tickled as I watched him answer debate questions on topics that I knew he had little prior knowledge of with complete confidence and frankly, good politics.

My trio with Generation Joshua speaker, Jeremiah.

In the end, my dear boy did not get elected president. He lost by 24 votes. Out of thousands. 24. Not bad for his first political run, I'd say.

But you know what he did win? The memory of a dream; the assurance of his serious skills and an eagerness to explore how his God-given abilities could be used in his future.

And watching his face light up as his peers cheered for him -- well, that is a blessing I will not soon forget.

Watching Bugs Rabbit.

Homeschooling is fun. Give me a good curriculum catalog and I am on fire...wondering if learning Spanish, Latin, Algebra, Biology, Hebrew, Literature, Writing, History....might be overkill. (For the record...we don't learn Latin or Hebrew....yet...)

Balancing the curriculum is hard. There are days when I wake my crew up with a raised voice and a need to urge them to learn, read, write, read, write and learn some more....all uh, urgently. Failing to remember they should probably have breakfast first.

Sigh.

I rarely blog about it because frankly I am not certain I know anything that would in any way help anybody. But yesterday was one of THOSE days. A day where the ah-ha moments outnumbered the I-don't-understand moments. A day where the joy overpowered the exhaustion. A day where it was easy to remember why we do what we do.

Little Red has been reading for a while now. Sounding out words like a rock-star. But yesterday, she flew through her read-aloud work. She was eager, excited and completely delighted with herself. She began talking about the day when she reads chapter books to herself (I'm ok with that being a ways away, for the record.). She is sounding out titles of her favorite TV shows, working to read signs as we drive around town and basically turning the corner with her reading that makes me smile from ear-to-ear!! Oh, so much fun!

She rocked out her math and science -- of course, she is her Daddy's daughter -- and then cuddled up with me to read our read-aloud chapter book together. As she sat in my lap, letting me baby her a bit while I read, I felt this deep contentment. I am so thankful to be here with her when she has those ah-ha moments with her reading. Or her fractions, history or science.

Now, if you will excuse me. We need to watch a little of her current favorite TV show this morning, Bugs Rabbit. You know, that lovable, laughable Looney Tune character that hangs out with Daffy Duck?

 Yes, I know she has the name wrong. But really, she is learning so much and growing up so fast, please please don't correct her. Cause those little things that remind me that she is not all done growing up bless me. Oh they do!

Taking the good with the bad...

The kids and I spent all day last Saturday working on mission support letters while Dad and Uncle Len were out of town. I had helped them compile a list, the trio worked together to write their letter. I had photos printed and they made labels for them. We had an assembly line going as we printed letters, folded, stuffed and sealed the envelopes. Little bit was amazing on stamp duty. We worked for more than seven hours straight -- and celebrated with Chick-Fil-A!

It was a good day.

But often the best days....well, they can be followed by some hard days...it is a law or something.

And so if you were in the vicinity of my neighborhood this week, you probably heard me yell. Good grief. I think I raised my voice enough this week to last a lifetime. "Focus on your Algebra." "Make the beds." "Don't practice piano right now." (Who even says that?) I felt like a mom of out-of-control teenagers. Goodness, my rage must be justified, right? Except, I don't have out-of-control teenagers.

I have amazing teenagers. Oh, they are 14-year-olds and could definitely spend more time on algebra, or biology or maybe history...depending on which of the three we are discussing. But really. They are amazing.

As I processed that I might be the one who needed to control her emotions, I began looking for ways to breathe deep...blog reading didn't help. Honestly, last week at least, everyone seemed to be homeschooling peacefully with brilliant Latin-learning perfect children while Mom also took time to write books and travel the country for speaking engagements. Yea, that wasn't helping me much.

Finally, I did a couple of things right. I made a phone call. Goodness, a friend with a 25-year history who knows me was just the right thing to do. Thank you, CH.

Then, I did what any self-respecting daughter of a beautician does when the going gets tough....I went in for a haircut. Deep sigh. It really does cure what ails you.

And finally, I remembered that January in the desert is pretty amazing. The kids and I moved out to the perch on Thursday and oh, it did not disappoint.

I don't have it all together. I mess up a lot. We don't eat gourmet meals over here -- rather cereal nights are a personal favorite. And though I dream about it, I am not writing any books today.

But the perfect kid thing. Well, I think I have that one covered.

And yea, they are a blessing.

Another school year...

Three high school freshmen.

One first grader.

One Mommy wondering when she blinked!

Which ruler will you choose?

The kids and I attended our annual Homeschool Convention right before we left for Hawaii. It was -- as always -- so wonderful. We were encouraged, equipped and are now eager to begin our new school year.

Except for one thing.

My trio are starting HIGH SCHOOL this year. HIGH SCHOOL.  I have to admit that I could go completely nuts right about now and be found running through the desert in a screaming panic -- hair knotted, hands waving, eyes crossing. But I won't. At least not today.

Instead, I have been trying to prepare and so I am reading a book (or four) on homeschooling through high school. And while I am certain these resources are beneficial -- and I have learned a ton -- they are quite overwhelming. And frankly, for this Mom with amazing but quite non-typical children, I am finding some of the information is making me sad. Just so sad.

It has taken me a few days to analyze why. And this is what I have come up with:

In our world today, it has become so important to constantly evaluate and judge our children by a variety of standards: Are they athletic? Setting speed records? Playing multiple sports? Traveling on teams?

Or maybe they are more academic? Winning spelling bees? Science fairs? Scholastic bowls?

Or maybe they are performance-driven? Starring in the theater? Singing in regional choirs? Composing like Mozart at a young age?

Even the Christian homeschooling books encourage capitalizing on any AND all of these attributes. And I know they are all noble pursuits. I would be lying if I said I didn't want my children to do well academically. I would be dishonest if I said I wouldn't love for my boys to be able to play sports. And I would fool no one if I said I wasn't delighted in my kids theatrical and musical accomplishments.

But here's the thing.

When we judge our children by the world's ruler -- they will rarely measure up. Chances are your child is NOT the next Michael Jordan, Einstein, or Mozart. I mean maybe -- and cool -- but probably not.

Oh, but when we measure our children by the ruler that matters -- God's word -- then we are getting somewhere.

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other." Galatians 5:22-26 (NIV)

I admit that this week I have been bogged down in making sure my kids measure up  according to the world ruler. Oh, it can be hard to balance college-preparedness and Godly-preparedness. 

And so, even though it will be challenging, my mission this year is to seek the balance. Because successful children are wonderful -- but young people who are loving, joy-filled, faithful and kind....well, that, my friends, is where the real blessing in life is found.

A little homeschooling story...

I am not usually ahead of the game. As a matter of fact, I usually make last minute decisions...leave the house ten minutes after I should have....and basically make my punctual husband insane with my tendencies. But this year....ah, this year, I KNEW what curriculum I want to use for 9th grade and 1rst grade for my kiddos next year. And I would like to get an early start in my preparations...so I ordered it already! Early. Before this school year is over even.

Punctuality might be my new middle name. Ok. Probably not.

But anyway, when I sent Sonlight the photos of my girls opening their boxes, they asked me to share our story....and I did....and they did....and now YOU can read it here:  Box Day!

I am pretty excited about our school year. Having my finger on the pulse of my children's day is a blessing I never take for granted!!

When it works...

In my 14 years as a Mom, I have spent a large portion of time attempting to find accessible activities for my boys.

First let me define accessible...because contrary to apparently-popular belief, it does NOT simply mean a ramp to enter a building. It does not simply mean a willingness to let a child OBSERVE. No for an activity to be accessible, it must allow full participation by the child. Participation. Not observation. Clear?

(Based on my complete need to capitalize that entire paragraph, I think I might have some issues that need to be addressed...)

You should know that I have found some winners -- a sweet gymnastics program in Minnesota where Mason flourished as a preschooler; a soccer team in Texas where both boys made friends and had a blast. But I have also found some doozies -- an acting program in Minnesota where Benjamin was told to "move like a pizza" and since he really couldn't he got to watch the rest of the class "move like a pizza"; a baseball program in Arizona where the kids just ran the bases and learned nothing about the sport and -- to Mason's complete dismay -- were not allowed to get anybody "out"!

During our public school days we also had both extremes: an amazing band director who found the instruments the boys could excel with; AND a choir director that played demeaning "lullabies" to, in his words, "calm Benjamin down" because Benjamin's Cerebral Palsy causes him to move when he is enjoying something immensely....which he did with music before said-choir-director almost ruined it.

All of that to say...I was extremely nervous last semester when I enrolled the boys in a Christian theater company. What would it "look" like for them. Would they be able to fully-participate? Would they enjoy it? Would the other students be accepting?

Two productions in. Two semesters behind us. I know the answer is a resounding YES!

Benjamin as Schroeder in Snoopy, The Musical!

Mason as Charlie Brown in Snoopy, The Musical.

From the remarkable directors to the amazing students, Moezart Productions has given new meaning to the word ACCESSIBLE.

In my perfect world, where special needs are seen LESS and abilities are seen MORE, Moezart is what it will look like. A place where friends are friends. A place where ramps are built without thinking twice -- or acting as if we should be eternally grateful. A place where roles are assigned without thinking about limitations. A place where ABILITIES are able to SHINE.

Mason as Will Scarlett in Robin Hood.

Benjamin -- as a soldier -- and Friar Tuck after the final curtain.

Soldier/narrator Benjamin in an amazing costume that disguised his wheelchair!

Benjamin and Mason with Mrs. C, their awesome, amazing director!

This, my friends, is what accessible looks like. And accessible is a huge blessing. Huge!

Of transformation and resurrection!

Caterpillars turning into butterflies is an incredible thing to behold. Simply incredible. A couple of weeks ago, these itsy-bitsy little caterpillars arrived in a plastic jar complete with a food substance that looked like putty at the bottom.

They were not particularly appealing. In fact, they were just flat out ugly. And yet, they fascinated us.

For days, we eagerly checked on our caterpillars -- noting that what began as a project for the kindergartner rapidly consumed ALL of us -- as they seemingly doubled in size each night.

Then one day we woke to find each encased in his own chrysalis -- appearing for all the world to be absolutely dead. We gently transferred the disc where the little tombs were attached, to the wall of our butterfly garden as we eagerly anticipated their rebirth.

When we woke up Saturday morning to discover that one of the little tombs had split open and a beautiful butterfly was in our garden, we fought to get the best view. Then over the next couple of days,  we watched as the other three emerged from slumber as the most exquisite of creatures -- a butterfly!

We kept our little pets with us for a few days -- feeding them, talking to them and observing everything we could. But soon we knew we had to give them their freedom by releasing them into the sky. 

It was bittersweet. We knew the butterflies were better off soaring free, but man did our little Cate want to keep them here with her. As we have talked about them this week -- and we have talked about them a LOT -- I have been struck by the similarity with the transformation we witnessed and the transformation we celebrate this weekend.

Isaiah 53:2 foretold about the Messiah: "He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him." 

Much like the black, hairy, unappealing caterpillar, huh?

After Jesus was beaten, ridiculed and put to death by hanging on the cross, he was buried: "Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away." (Matthew 27:59-60)

Just like my Cate thought her caterpillars had died when she found them wrapped in their chrysalis form and hanging in the jar. 

And the best part of all: "After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen just as he said." (Matt. 28:1-6)

"Afterward Jesus appeared in a different form to two of them while they were walking..." (Mark 16:12)

"Later Jesus appeared to the Eleven as they were eating..." (Mark16:14)

Risen and transformed -- scripture does not describe him, but my heart knows that he was more majestic than the butterfly.

And just like we had to release our transformed little creatures: 

"After the Lord Jesus had spoken to them, he was taken up into heaven and he sat at the right hand of God." Mark 16:19

Happy Easter, my beloveds. 

Hear Ye, Hear Ye...

In order to help my boys prepare for their roles in their upcoming "Robin Hood" production -- and because I had always wanted to go -- we ventured outside of Phoenix to spend the day at the Arizona Renaissance Festival!

We had no idea what to expect and though for my kiddos that just meant they weren't sure if it would be any fun, for the Mommy, I was completely nervous that it would be un-accessible and therefore a complete waste of time!

Seeing this gentleman as soon as we walked in relieved much of my concerns!

I am already brainstorming about ways to make Benjamin's chair look like this for the upcoming play! (Ideas?)

Cate's concerns were centered around finding a "hat" that didn't make her look -- and I quote -- "goofy." Thankfully, these flower wreaths greeted us and solved that dilemma. Whew.

The buildings made us smile. I really just couldn't get enough photos -- and I took many!

But finding the glass blowing shop was just delightful. We could not hear everything he said -- and have been piecing it together all day as we realized we all picked up different parts -- but the amazing things he was doing with his hands had us completely mesmerized. Breathtaking.

From glass-blowing to belly-filling -- my Mason was determined to try a Turkey Leg...he is much cuter than King Henry VIII, don't you think?!

And my little girl -- well, she may LOOK like a princess...but she wanted to try the Turkey Leg as well!

During our meal, we received a Irish Folktale from this lovely storyteller...

And my Tolkien fans thought this resembled Gandalf and Bilbo Baggins...I stayed out of the photo because they call me their Hobbit already...I didn't need to reinforce that!

There was just so much to see...touch...eat...experience!

The Jousting Competition had beautiful horses, lovely costumes and...well, perhaps a bit of cheese. We loved it!

And though my girl was concerned about the treatment of the animals -- after being assured of their care, she really wanted to experience riding an elephant! And she loved every minute of it!

And then Cate and I got to pick -- and she very much wanted to ride the camel! Our ride on Sahara was very cool -- and to be honest made me flip-flop between thinking about the Wise Men and wanting to sing "Alice the Camel has 10 humps" very loudly!

Hands down, Benjamin's favorite part of the day was the comedic stunt-show routine of Dexter Tripp. He juggled everything from pins to flaming batons and even a chainsaw (very medieval!) and he made Benjamin laugh out loud! It was delightful!

There was so much to see. I don't think we scratched the surface.

The shops were full of whimsy...

Wood-working, leather goods, pottery...we saw it all!

Even musical delights...

There was even a Mother Goose sighting -- and holding! (And a bit of pleading that we NEED one!)

And the best part was, as usual, the chance to try something new with my precious precious crew! And to find it accessible and with something for everyone -- well, that just doubled the blessings over and beyond!