Poor Petey is stressed.
He is in the midst of a six-week molting season and he's miserable. He sits trembling on his manzanita twig, fluffing what feathers he has left and periodically peering out of the cage with one black beady eye. He has obvious bald patches on his belly and shoulders and with each fluff of his wings, more yellow feathers flutter out of his cage and to the floor. He still has a hearty appetite and can regularly be found sitting in his food dish picking through his seed. It would appear that flax seed, oatmeal, broccoli and wheat bread are his only actual comforts in life. He periodically will plop into his bird bath for a quick soak, but even that simple task seems to be exhausting to him. He is skittish and frightened. Someone simply walking past his cage prompts him to hurl himself to the furthest corner of his cage. It's pathetic.
The absolute worst part of this re-feathering season, however, is that he has apparently forgotten how to sing. My sweet little friend who typically serenades me as I wash dishes now sits silently on his perch, eyes closed and head tucked.
A song-less canary fluffing his featherless-ness and quivering. So sad.
According to all the websites I've explored, this is a natural part of a bird's life. It might be inevitable, but that doesn't make it any easier. On Petey or me. I can't wait for this stress-filled season to be behind us.
Like Petey, we also face the inevitability of stress in our lives. And like Petey, that stress often presents itself in a variety of ways.
What do you do when you are stressed?
Do you stuff it in or let it explode?
Do you go for a run or run to food?
Do you chew out your kids or chew on your nails?
Do you get quiet and withdraw or do you get vocal and expressive?
Do you search high and low for a quick fix or do you settle in and wallow?
In all honesty, I am a stuff-it-in, stress-eating, kid-chewing, withdrawn wallower.
And you?
Stress in my life seems to come and go in seasons, too. I find that stressful times typically are the result of too many demands and not enough time, energy or inspiration to manage it all. I can get so focused on the pesky and stressful aspects of my life (no names, please ... ) that I lose sight of the good and lovely aspects of my life (Aaron, Norah, Ashley, Lydia, Brett, Jesus ... ).
In the midst of a stressful episode, I find myself wishing for a giant bowl of chocolate to sit in and eat from, desiring to fluff myself up and hide my head under the covers and flee from anyone else who might possible need something from me.
I also would admit that when I am stressed, I forget to sing. This is certainly one of the worst parts of stress.
In the Bible, Jesus tells us that one of our jobs is to sing praises to God. It's not only a job, however, but a privilege. Jesus goes on to say in Luke 19:39-41, that if we choose not to sing praises to God, that the stones of the earth will cry out instead.
How often have I allowed daily stresses to steal my privilege to sing?
How often have I let my inevitable stress rob me of the joy of praising God?
And how often have I missed out on the miracle of having my perspective changed through praise?
I know that poor Petey can't help his predicament. In a few weeks, he'll find himself re-feathered and ready to sing. I, however, have a daily choice. I can choose to stuff it in, eat my way through it, chew on a few kids and withdraw into silence. Or ...
I can choose to praise.
And you?
Monday, September 19, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Food For Thought - Tomatoes
I have taken up a new hobby.
Grazing.
As I walk around our garden boxes, I am thrilled by the buffet in my own back yard: Blood red, meaty Mortgage Lifters; sweet, pearl-shaped Cherry Tomatoes; hefty, juice-filled Beefsteak Tomatoes and more than a few volunteer, yellow pear tomatoes.
I have decided that there is nothing quite as delightful as walking out to the garden, plucking a Cherry Tomato fresh from the vine and popping it into your mouth.
Warmed by the sun, only ever touched by your two fingers and exploding with the flavor of summer!
They are awesome just eaten straight from the vine, but if you feel the need to dress them up, here are a few of the many ways that we enjoyed our tomatoes this summer.
Grilled Panzella
(from Bon Appétit, August 2011 via Epicurious ... with a few changes.)
Ingredients:
1 1/2 cup basil leaves, chopped
2/3 cup olive oil
1 large shallot, thinly sliced
1 small jalapeno, finely chopped
2 tsp lemon zest
Juice of one lemon
3 pounds of tomatoes, any variety
12 oz loaf of sourdough bread (day old is best)
Coarse salt and pepper to taste
In a food processor, puree basil and 1/3 cup olive oil until only tiny bits of basil are left. Add shallot, jalapeno, lemon zest and lemon juice to basil oil and whisk well. Season with a little salt and pepper. Set aside.
Slice the tomatoes (chose to leave the cherry tomatoes whole) and toss with basil dressing. Let marinate at room temperature for about 30 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the bbq. Slice the sourdough bread into 1 inch slices. Brush each side of the bread with remaining olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Grill bread on both sides until lightly charred.
Tear or cut grilled bread into bite-sized pieces. Toss bread with the tomatoes and serve immediately. The crunchy, chewy bread combined with the flavorful, juicy tomatoes is a party for your mouth!
Gazpacho
(This recipe is just what I would throw together. A little of this and a little of that.)
Ingredients:
1 pound tomatoes, quartered
1 large cucumber, peeled and quartered
1 bell pepper, seeded and quartered
1/2 yellow onion, in large pieces
1 lime
Crushed red pepper
Sour cream
Cilantro
In a food processor or blender, add half of the tomatoes, cucumber, pepper and onion. Puree until smooth. Transfer this to a large bowl and repeat with the remaining veggies. Stir in a dash of red pepper flakes and the juice of one lime. Stir well and let chill for one hour. Top with a dollop of sour cream and cilantro.
Tomatoes on a Plate
(Sometimes there is no need to dress them up!)
Enough tomatoes to go around, cut into wedges or thick slices
Coarse salt
Fresh herbs (in this case, basil and chives)
Arrange the tomatoes on a large platter, sprinkle with coarse salt and herbs. Serve on the side of ... well, anything!
Grazing.
As I walk around our garden boxes, I am thrilled by the buffet in my own back yard: Blood red, meaty Mortgage Lifters; sweet, pearl-shaped Cherry Tomatoes; hefty, juice-filled Beefsteak Tomatoes and more than a few volunteer, yellow pear tomatoes.
 |
| A mini-Mortgage Lifter - it was delicious! |
I have decided that there is nothing quite as delightful as walking out to the garden, plucking a Cherry Tomato fresh from the vine and popping it into your mouth.
Warmed by the sun, only ever touched by your two fingers and exploding with the flavor of summer!
They are awesome just eaten straight from the vine, but if you feel the need to dress them up, here are a few of the many ways that we enjoyed our tomatoes this summer.
Grilled Panzella
(from Bon Appétit, August 2011 via Epicurious ... with a few changes.)
Ingredients:
1 1/2 cup basil leaves, chopped
2/3 cup olive oil
1 large shallot, thinly sliced
1 small jalapeno, finely chopped
2 tsp lemon zest
Juice of one lemon
3 pounds of tomatoes, any variety
12 oz loaf of sourdough bread (day old is best)
Coarse salt and pepper to taste
In a food processor, puree basil and 1/3 cup olive oil until only tiny bits of basil are left. Add shallot, jalapeno, lemon zest and lemon juice to basil oil and whisk well. Season with a little salt and pepper. Set aside.
Slice the tomatoes (chose to leave the cherry tomatoes whole) and toss with basil dressing. Let marinate at room temperature for about 30 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the bbq. Slice the sourdough bread into 1 inch slices. Brush each side of the bread with remaining olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Grill bread on both sides until lightly charred.
Tear or cut grilled bread into bite-sized pieces. Toss bread with the tomatoes and serve immediately. The crunchy, chewy bread combined with the flavorful, juicy tomatoes is a party for your mouth!
 |
| We also grilled chicken and zucchini. Bon Appétit, indeed! |
(This recipe is just what I would throw together. A little of this and a little of that.)
Ingredients:
1 pound tomatoes, quartered
1 large cucumber, peeled and quartered
1 bell pepper, seeded and quartered
1/2 yellow onion, in large pieces
1 lime
Crushed red pepper
Sour cream
Cilantro
 |
| The tomatoes and cucumbers were from our garden. |
In a food processor or blender, add half of the tomatoes, cucumber, pepper and onion. Puree until smooth. Transfer this to a large bowl and repeat with the remaining veggies. Stir in a dash of red pepper flakes and the juice of one lime. Stir well and let chill for one hour. Top with a dollop of sour cream and cilantro.
 |
| Summer spooned up in a bowl. |
Tomatoes on a Plate
(Sometimes there is no need to dress them up!)
Enough tomatoes to go around, cut into wedges or thick slices
Coarse salt
Fresh herbs (in this case, basil and chives)
Arrange the tomatoes on a large platter, sprinkle with coarse salt and herbs. Serve on the side of ... well, anything!
 |
| My kids' favorite ways to eat tomatoes! |
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Where's My Keys?
To say that I was nervous would be an understatement.
It was one of our first dates. If you don't count our trip to the circus, that is, which was our official first date. But this was our first date that was just the two of us ... and a few college clowns at a nearby table.
I don't remember what we talked about as we sat there at Margie's Java Joint, but I remember that it was the first time that I ever had authentic chai tea. It was served in that little french press and the cloves made my lips feel numb. In my nervousness of sitting across from you and trying to appear cool and confident, I sipped and sipped and sipped my tea. And several glasses of water.
At the end of the evening, you drove me home. We chatted in the car for a few minutes and you offered to walk me to my door.
"That's okay. Thanks for a nice evening. See you tomorrow?"
As I walked up the sidewalk, I reached in my pocket for my house keys. Drat. My roommates were all out for the night and now I was locked out. It was at that moment that I experienced a very strong feeling. Pride.
There was no way that I was going to turn around and admit to you that I didn't have my keys. I'd look foolish and maybe a bit irresponsible. So I walked under the porch light, opened the screen door and pretended to unlock the door. Out of the corner of my eye I could see you peering through the passenger window.
I waved. You waved. Then you drove away.
I waited until your tail-lights disappeared around the corner and then I hightailed it around the corner of the house. We kept a spare key in the little storage shed in the back yard. If I could get the key, I'd be home free.
As I approached the shed, I became aware of how dark it was in the back yard. Even with the porch light over the back door, it was hard to see. But in the glint of the light I could see the lock on the shed door. Drat. Again. There was a little combination lock keeping the shed door secure. It was at that moment that I experienced another very strong feeling. The need to pee.
Why had I had so much tea to drink?
I fiddled with the lock, but I knew that it was too dark to manipulate the correct numbers. Especially while doing the "I gotta go" dance. I was starting to panic a little bit and wishing I had turned around on the front sidewalk and told you the truth. Too late now. I needed to get out of this pickle all by myself.
I pulled on the shed doors in frustration and I was delighted to discover that even with the lock the sliding doors could be separated a little bit. Maybe just enough to squeeze my hand in. I fought down every fear prompted by every scary movie I'd ever seen and stuck my fingers through the doors into the pitch black shed. I fumbled around for a few moments and finally located the magnetic hide-a-key. Yahoo!
I ran across the lawn to the back door (as fast as someone can run while trying not to pee their pants), threw open the door and bolted to the bathroom. Whew!
I'd like to say that I learned my lesson that night and never locked myself out of my house again, but that would be a lie. In fact, I locked myself out enough times that you were tempted to get a copy of my house key made just so we wouldn't have to trek around to the shed so often. Maybe that was God's way of preparing you for the future.
Because of my past key issues, you weren't surprised by my phone call all those years later ...
As I stood outside our van in the school parking lot holding Ashley's hand and my oh-so-pregnant tummy, you left work to help me with my locked door predicament. And you didn't even tease much when you discovered that the passenger window was rolled down.
You are a wonderful man, Brett.
___________________________
Prompt #1 - Locked Out
It was one of our first dates. If you don't count our trip to the circus, that is, which was our official first date. But this was our first date that was just the two of us ... and a few college clowns at a nearby table.
I don't remember what we talked about as we sat there at Margie's Java Joint, but I remember that it was the first time that I ever had authentic chai tea. It was served in that little french press and the cloves made my lips feel numb. In my nervousness of sitting across from you and trying to appear cool and confident, I sipped and sipped and sipped my tea. And several glasses of water.
At the end of the evening, you drove me home. We chatted in the car for a few minutes and you offered to walk me to my door.
"That's okay. Thanks for a nice evening. See you tomorrow?"
As I walked up the sidewalk, I reached in my pocket for my house keys. Drat. My roommates were all out for the night and now I was locked out. It was at that moment that I experienced a very strong feeling. Pride.
There was no way that I was going to turn around and admit to you that I didn't have my keys. I'd look foolish and maybe a bit irresponsible. So I walked under the porch light, opened the screen door and pretended to unlock the door. Out of the corner of my eye I could see you peering through the passenger window.
I waved. You waved. Then you drove away.
I waited until your tail-lights disappeared around the corner and then I hightailed it around the corner of the house. We kept a spare key in the little storage shed in the back yard. If I could get the key, I'd be home free.
As I approached the shed, I became aware of how dark it was in the back yard. Even with the porch light over the back door, it was hard to see. But in the glint of the light I could see the lock on the shed door. Drat. Again. There was a little combination lock keeping the shed door secure. It was at that moment that I experienced another very strong feeling. The need to pee.
Why had I had so much tea to drink?
I fiddled with the lock, but I knew that it was too dark to manipulate the correct numbers. Especially while doing the "I gotta go" dance. I was starting to panic a little bit and wishing I had turned around on the front sidewalk and told you the truth. Too late now. I needed to get out of this pickle all by myself.
I pulled on the shed doors in frustration and I was delighted to discover that even with the lock the sliding doors could be separated a little bit. Maybe just enough to squeeze my hand in. I fought down every fear prompted by every scary movie I'd ever seen and stuck my fingers through the doors into the pitch black shed. I fumbled around for a few moments and finally located the magnetic hide-a-key. Yahoo!
I ran across the lawn to the back door (as fast as someone can run while trying not to pee their pants), threw open the door and bolted to the bathroom. Whew!
I'd like to say that I learned my lesson that night and never locked myself out of my house again, but that would be a lie. In fact, I locked myself out enough times that you were tempted to get a copy of my house key made just so we wouldn't have to trek around to the shed so often. Maybe that was God's way of preparing you for the future.
Because of my past key issues, you weren't surprised by my phone call all those years later ...
As I stood outside our van in the school parking lot holding Ashley's hand and my oh-so-pregnant tummy, you left work to help me with my locked door predicament. And you didn't even tease much when you discovered that the passenger window was rolled down.
You are a wonderful man, Brett.
___________________________
Prompt #1 - Locked Out
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Time-Warp Wednesday
There is no doubt in my mind that my kids will surpass me in technological savviness.
Probably tomorrow.
Even now, if I am having trouble with the Wii or one of the many shiny black boxes sitting below the TV, Aaron is able to get me out of trouble with the push of just a few buttons. I try not to get too terribly miffed when he tells me, "You just need to synch it, Mom," ... and he's right.
I may still be able to navigate around Pages better than him and I definitely can type faster than his hunt and peck strategy, but even those days are numbered. Before I know it, he'll be telling me about nifty shortcuts while I plod along formatting our MOPS newsletter. I hope that I can accept his help with finesse and graciousness ... but it will still probably sting a bit. "You just need to use command ⊄≈☃☺, Mom," ... sigh ....
Recently I came across a snapshot from several years ago that proved that he's always been on the cutting edge of technology. And also willing to share his knowledge and expertise with others.
I love this! Aaron and Norah perched on the same chair, working side by side on the computer. What you can't see in this snapshot is that the computer was on a desk we assembled in a closet. There was just enough room for one chair, hence the cheek-to-cheek technique! (That's one way to make a 2.5 bedroom house seem just a little bigger.)
Not only does it touch my heart that they were happily clicking and coloring together, but I can vividly remember Aaron's words to Norah.
"You need to click on the bucket. Then click on the color. On the red one. The red one. No, that's blue. Move the mouse a little bit. I'll help you. There. You got the red one. Good job, Nuna!"
Let me zoom in on his helper hand:
I love listening to and seeing my kids being helpful and encouraging to one another. A sweet blessing to this mommy's heart and ears!
May we all be generous in lending a hand ... and gracious in accepting the help!
Now ... what's the shortcut for publishing this post? Aaron!.....
Probably tomorrow.
Even now, if I am having trouble with the Wii or one of the many shiny black boxes sitting below the TV, Aaron is able to get me out of trouble with the push of just a few buttons. I try not to get too terribly miffed when he tells me, "You just need to synch it, Mom," ... and he's right.
I may still be able to navigate around Pages better than him and I definitely can type faster than his hunt and peck strategy, but even those days are numbered. Before I know it, he'll be telling me about nifty shortcuts while I plod along formatting our MOPS newsletter. I hope that I can accept his help with finesse and graciousness ... but it will still probably sting a bit. "You just need to use command ⊄≈☃☺, Mom," ... sigh ....
Recently I came across a snapshot from several years ago that proved that he's always been on the cutting edge of technology. And also willing to share his knowledge and expertise with others.
 |
| Basic Computer Programming |
I love this! Aaron and Norah perched on the same chair, working side by side on the computer. What you can't see in this snapshot is that the computer was on a desk we assembled in a closet. There was just enough room for one chair, hence the cheek-to-cheek technique! (That's one way to make a 2.5 bedroom house seem just a little bigger.)
Not only does it touch my heart that they were happily clicking and coloring together, but I can vividly remember Aaron's words to Norah.
"You need to click on the bucket. Then click on the color. On the red one. The red one. No, that's blue. Move the mouse a little bit. I'll help you. There. You got the red one. Good job, Nuna!"
Let me zoom in on his helper hand:
 |
| Press the green star, Sweetie. |
I love listening to and seeing my kids being helpful and encouraging to one another. A sweet blessing to this mommy's heart and ears!
May we all be generous in lending a hand ... and gracious in accepting the help!
Now ... what's the shortcut for publishing this post? Aaron!.....
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Need Some Grease?
I could hear her long before I saw her.
Squeak
It sounded like she was in the culdesac across the street.
Squeak
Yep. Here she comes now.
Squeak
Around the bend of the street.
Squeak
Stopping at each house.
Squeak
Our mail carrier in her mail truck. The one with the squeaky wheel.
Squeak
As she drove out of our neighborhood, I couldn't help but shake my head in wonder. Everyday for the past month she has squeaked around our subdivision. For a month. She was certainly driving home that old adage, "The squeaky wheel gets the grease." Or at least, should get the grease.
This persistent (and truly ear piercing) protest from her vehicle needs some attention. Perhaps it's just a squeak ... or perhaps it's an indication of a more serious problem with her truck. I bet Tom & Ray would tell her to get it checked. But then, it's not her truck. So maybe she doesn't see it as her problem.
Each day that she noisily proceeds around our culdesac, she is driving home a message to me.
I have my own squeaky wheels.
As I go about my days I have a problem with squeaking: speaking brashly to my kids, choosing to be lazy over productive, throwing "what about me?" pity parties, sighing and rolling my eyes when exasperated, opting to pay attention to the internet instead of my kids and passing judgement on people different from me.
Squeak, squeak, squeak ...
In the same way that the squeaks of the mail truck indicate a internal problem, my squeaks are evidence of internal problems, too. On the outside, I am still motoring around and mothering well, but my heart could nevertheless use some attention.
Jesus talked about this once when He was visiting Jerusalem. He had a little run in with the Pharisees regarding Jewish rituals, a question about whether or not Jesus' friends followed all the traditional rules of washing their hands before eating. Jesus responded with a fierce accusation. He scolded the Pharisees for being overly-concerned about outward cleanliness while inside their hearts were sick. While the Jewish leaders were obsessed with being sure that whatever went into their bodies was pure, Jesus was more concerned with what was already inside them ...what was the condition of their hearts?
20 He went on: “What comes out of you is what defiles (pollutes) you. 21 For from within, out of your hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, 22 adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. 23 All these evils come from inside and defile (pollute) you.” (Mark 7:20-23, emphasis mine)
Those are some pretty strong words - many of which I'm quick to dismiss. But ... if I'm truly honest, my squeaks are as a result of some of those internal problems. And here's a few more that I would have to add: Selfishness, disrespect, laziness, judgmental attitude, rudeness, self-centeredness and ingratitude.
Squeak
What, then, is the remedy for this squeaky heart condition? I would have to say that we have to submerse ourselves in God's word. If we fill up our tank with the wisdom and truth of the Bible by spending regular time reading and studying Scripture, I believe that we will see our heart changed. God's words to us in His Bible are the grease for our squeaky wheels:
10 I seek you with all my heart;
do not let me stray from your commands.
11 I have hidden your word in my heart
that I might not sin against you.
Psalm 119:10-11
What about your squeaky wheels? How about a little of God's good grease?
Squeak
It sounded like she was in the culdesac across the street.
Squeak
Yep. Here she comes now.
Squeak
Around the bend of the street.
Squeak
Stopping at each house.
Squeak
Our mail carrier in her mail truck. The one with the squeaky wheel.
Squeak
As she drove out of our neighborhood, I couldn't help but shake my head in wonder. Everyday for the past month she has squeaked around our subdivision. For a month. She was certainly driving home that old adage, "The squeaky wheel gets the grease." Or at least, should get the grease.
This persistent (and truly ear piercing) protest from her vehicle needs some attention. Perhaps it's just a squeak ... or perhaps it's an indication of a more serious problem with her truck. I bet Tom & Ray would tell her to get it checked. But then, it's not her truck. So maybe she doesn't see it as her problem.
Each day that she noisily proceeds around our culdesac, she is driving home a message to me.
I have my own squeaky wheels.
As I go about my days I have a problem with squeaking: speaking brashly to my kids, choosing to be lazy over productive, throwing "what about me?" pity parties, sighing and rolling my eyes when exasperated, opting to pay attention to the internet instead of my kids and passing judgement on people different from me.
Squeak, squeak, squeak ...
In the same way that the squeaks of the mail truck indicate a internal problem, my squeaks are evidence of internal problems, too. On the outside, I am still motoring around and mothering well, but my heart could nevertheless use some attention.
Jesus talked about this once when He was visiting Jerusalem. He had a little run in with the Pharisees regarding Jewish rituals, a question about whether or not Jesus' friends followed all the traditional rules of washing their hands before eating. Jesus responded with a fierce accusation. He scolded the Pharisees for being overly-concerned about outward cleanliness while inside their hearts were sick. While the Jewish leaders were obsessed with being sure that whatever went into their bodies was pure, Jesus was more concerned with what was already inside them ...what was the condition of their hearts?
20 He went on: “What comes out of you is what defiles (pollutes) you. 21 For from within, out of your hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, 22 adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. 23 All these evils come from inside and defile (pollute) you.” (Mark 7:20-23, emphasis mine)
Those are some pretty strong words - many of which I'm quick to dismiss. But ... if I'm truly honest, my squeaks are as a result of some of those internal problems. And here's a few more that I would have to add: Selfishness, disrespect, laziness, judgmental attitude, rudeness, self-centeredness and ingratitude.
Squeak
What, then, is the remedy for this squeaky heart condition? I would have to say that we have to submerse ourselves in God's word. If we fill up our tank with the wisdom and truth of the Bible by spending regular time reading and studying Scripture, I believe that we will see our heart changed. God's words to us in His Bible are the grease for our squeaky wheels:
10 I seek you with all my heart;
do not let me stray from your commands.
11 I have hidden your word in my heart
that I might not sin against you.
Psalm 119:10-11
Seek God.
Know His commands.
Hide His word inside.
Squeak less.
What about your squeaky wheels? How about a little of God's good grease?
Monday, September 12, 2011
The Pendulum Swing
Every day I make about a zillion decisions. Some for me and some for the little people who follow me around all day.
Cereal or toast?
Milk or juice?
Shower or bath?
Shorts or capris?
Tank-top or t-shirt?
Laundry or vacuuming?
Play a game or build Legos?
Phineas & Ferb or Cosby Show?
Play with sissies or play alone?
Mac-n-cheese or snacky plate?
Read a book or take a nap?
Run errands or stay home?
Time-out or let it go?
Eat veggies or no dessert?
Goodnight Moon or Freight Train?
Red wine or white?
Arrested Development or Psych?
Read or sleep?
Day after day ... decision after decision. Ho-hum choices, one after another.
Then one day, along comes a hefty decision. A decision that makes you pause and ponder and puzzle over it. A decision that isn't as easy as choosing pancakes or flip-flops or ice with your water. A decision that has many facets and many possible outcomes. A decision that effects your life, maybe not forever, but certainly for the foreseeable future.
I recently was faced with just such a decision. I was approached by a friend about the prospect of watching her little girl when Mommy goes back to work. In the face of this decision, I experienced the full-spectrum pendulum swing of thoughts, feelings and desires. (Most of them in the first hour and twenty-seven minutes after her phone call.)
Back and forth ... back and forth.
What fun to have a little baby again!
Little parts to admire.
Reasons to hang on to some of the baby toys.
We have all the baby gear still.
The kids would love it!
A paycheck.
I'm already doing the Mommy-thing.
I was going to volunteer in the schools more.
It would be a blessing for the baby.
Cereal or toast?
Milk or juice?
Shower or bath?
Shorts or capris?
Tank-top or t-shirt?
Laundry or vacuuming?
Play a game or build Legos?
Phineas & Ferb or Cosby Show?
Play with sissies or play alone?
Mac-n-cheese or snacky plate?
Read a book or take a nap?
Run errands or stay home?
Time-out or let it go?
Eat veggies or no dessert?
Goodnight Moon or Freight Train?
Red wine or white?
Arrested Development or Psych?
Read or sleep?
Day after day ... decision after decision. Ho-hum choices, one after another.
Then one day, along comes a hefty decision. A decision that makes you pause and ponder and puzzle over it. A decision that isn't as easy as choosing pancakes or flip-flops or ice with your water. A decision that has many facets and many possible outcomes. A decision that effects your life, maybe not forever, but certainly for the foreseeable future.
I recently was faced with just such a decision. I was approached by a friend about the prospect of watching her little girl when Mommy goes back to work. In the face of this decision, I experienced the full-spectrum pendulum swing of thoughts, feelings and desires. (Most of them in the first hour and twenty-seven minutes after her phone call.)
Back and forth ... back and forth.
What fun to have a little baby again!
Whew ... a little baby. Again.
Little diapers to change. Again.
We were officially moving
on from baby toys.
We were looking forward to
clearing the garage of the baby gear.
The kids already keep me busy.
Getting a paycheck?
That actually sounds nice.
I was looking forward to
doing more of a Me-thing.
Fridays are great days to volunteer!
It would be good for Lydia.
An answer to a prayer for them.
An answer to a prayer for us.
Hmmm ... it would appear that my pendulum finished it's wide arc and settled there in the middle ... where pendulums typically rest. After all the swinging back and forth between pros and cons, costs and benefits, I was finally able to see past my own selfness and doubts and see God's hand in the midst of it. And find rest there, too.
I think that is the way that God intends us to make life-choices. He doesn't want us to just jump in with a "yes" or a "no" - He wants us to make an informed and intelligent decision. He doesn't want us to get muddled in the "what if's" of the problem - He wants us to take the available info at hand and make the best decision we can. He doesn't want us to wrestle with it on our own - He wants us to pray about it, seek His plan and let Him enlighten us to the right choice.
And when we arrive at the point where the pendulum has paused, we know that we will find peace. That will be proof that we have heard God correctly concerning His plan for our energy, time and gifts. It doesn't mean that we won't still wonder if we're making the right choice, but we won't find ourselves wrestling, but instead, surrendering. Again.
I don't doubt that I will have moments of, "What was I thinking?!?", when this little peanut comes to visit. But I also have confidence that this is God's plan for right now and He will continue to give me the peace and perspective and power to do the job well.
At least, until another decision comes along ...
__________________________
Today is Baby S's first day with us. We are starting in slowly with just the afternoon together - so we can warm up to each other. It ought to be an adventure ... time to pull out the baby stuff!
And when we arrive at the point where the pendulum has paused, we know that we will find peace. That will be proof that we have heard God correctly concerning His plan for our energy, time and gifts. It doesn't mean that we won't still wonder if we're making the right choice, but we won't find ourselves wrestling, but instead, surrendering. Again.
I don't doubt that I will have moments of, "What was I thinking?!?", when this little peanut comes to visit. But I also have confidence that this is God's plan for right now and He will continue to give me the peace and perspective and power to do the job well.
At least, until another decision comes along ...
__________________________
Today is Baby S's first day with us. We are starting in slowly with just the afternoon together - so we can warm up to each other. It ought to be an adventure ... time to pull out the baby stuff!
Friday, September 9, 2011
Food For Thought - Carrots
This year we planted carrots in our garden. A lot of them. We were excited as we watched their little green and feathery tops poke through the soil. Then as they grew and multiplied we learned the wisdom of thinning. It seems wasteful to pluck some of the puny little carrots and throw them away, but it's an essential part of making room for the carrots to grow uncrowded. Even after thinning, we have ended up with a bumper crop of carrots! A treasure trove of long orange beauties that would impress even our old pal, Bugs Bunny.
But what do you do with a garden full of carrots? The kids will only eat so many carrots dipped in peanut butter. Here are a few carroty recipes that we enjoyed and I hope you will, too.
Carrot Raisin Salad
(This recipe is a family favorite from my mom.)
Ingredients:
4 large carrots, shredded
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
1/4 cup mayonnaise
2 T sugar
2 t. rice vinegar
Combine the carrots, raisins and walnuts in a medium sized bowl. In a small bowl, combine the mayo, sugar and vinegar. Mix well. Pour the dressing over the carrot mixture and stir. This salad is from the same family as the Broccoli Waldorf Salad. Once I wrapped my head around having fruit and veggies together in the salad, they have become some of my absolute favorite side dishes!
Stir-Fried Carrot Slivers
(This recipe is from "The Dinner Doctor" with a few additions.)
1 cup snap peas, cut into bite-sized pieces
1/4 cup orange juice
2 t. brown sugar
1/2 t. ginger (fresh ginger would be even better!)
Salt, to taste
4 green onions, chopped
Heat the olive oil in a medium pan. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the orange juice, brown sugar and ginger. Set this aside. Add the carrots and snap peas to the oil and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the orange juice mixture and stir well. Let cook for 2-3 minutes longer until the carrots are tender. Add a pinch of salt to taste and top with green onions. Serve immediately.
Spiced Couscous with Chicken and Carrots
(This recipe is from Food Network, October, 2010. I made my typical adjustments.)
 |
| That tangle of carrots in the middle is what happens if you don't thin. Oops. |
But what do you do with a garden full of carrots? The kids will only eat so many carrots dipped in peanut butter. Here are a few carroty recipes that we enjoyed and I hope you will, too.
Carrot Raisin Salad
(This recipe is a family favorite from my mom.)
Ingredients:
4 large carrots, shredded
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
1/4 cup mayonnaise
2 T sugar
2 t. rice vinegar
Combine the carrots, raisins and walnuts in a medium sized bowl. In a small bowl, combine the mayo, sugar and vinegar. Mix well. Pour the dressing over the carrot mixture and stir. This salad is from the same family as the Broccoli Waldorf Salad. Once I wrapped my head around having fruit and veggies together in the salad, they have become some of my absolute favorite side dishes!
Stir-Fried Carrot Slivers
(This recipe is from "The Dinner Doctor" with a few additions.)
Ingredients:
1 T olive oil
2 cups carrots, shredded1 cup snap peas, cut into bite-sized pieces
1/4 cup orange juice
2 t. brown sugar
1/2 t. ginger (fresh ginger would be even better!)
Salt, to taste
4 green onions, chopped
Heat the olive oil in a medium pan. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the orange juice, brown sugar and ginger. Set this aside. Add the carrots and snap peas to the oil and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the orange juice mixture and stir well. Let cook for 2-3 minutes longer until the carrots are tender. Add a pinch of salt to taste and top with green onions. Serve immediately.
Spiced Couscous with Chicken and Carrots
(This recipe is from Food Network, October, 2010. I made my typical adjustments.)
Ingredients:
3/4 t. cinnamon
1 inch fresh ginger, grated
Salt & pepper, to taste
4 medium carrots, sliced
1 cup couscous, dry
2 cups chicken, shredded
3 T butter
1/2 almonds, chopped
1/2 cup raisins
4 green onions, chopped
1/2 cup cilantro, chopped
Sour cream, for topping
In a medium pot, bring 3 cups of water to a boil. Add 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, grated ginger, 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper to the water. Add the carrots and cook until crisp tender, about 5 minutes.
Drain the carrots and set aside the liquid for later.
Drain the carrots and set aside the liquid for later.
Put the couscous and chicken in a large bowl and pour 1 cup of the carrot water on top. Cover the couscous with plastic wrap and let sit for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork when ready.
In a medium sauce pan, melt the butter. Add the almonds, raisins, green onions and 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon. Cook for about 5 minutes until the nuts are toasted. Stir in the cilantro.
To serve, fill bowls with chicken and couscous mixture and pour a bit of the carrot water over the top. Add the carrots and then finish with the almond mixture. Top with fresh cilantro and a dollop of sour cream.
 |
| From experience ... you might want to double this recipe. |
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Mired in Mementos
(cue music)
Host: Good morning and welcome to this week's edition of "Horrific Hoarding". Today's guest is a stay-at-home mom of four who has, as usual, requested that we keep her identity a secret. She has selected the name, "Mired" for today's show. Thank you, "Mired", for the opportunity to come to your home.
Mired: Uhhh ... you're welcome. It's good to be here. I mean, it's good for you to be here. Would you like to have a seat? Oops. Well ... let me clear a space here on the sofa for you. I'll just shove this box over here. (grunts) There.
Host: Thank you, "Mired", let's go ahead and get started. What is it exactly that you hoard?
Mired: Well, as you can see from the living room wall here, I have four beautiful kids. And as you can see from the boxes of mementos along the wall there, they each accumulate a lot of stuff.
Host: Wow. That is a lot of boxes. From where I sit here on the sofa, surrounded by three boxes, I can count (pauses while counting) ... twenty-six boxes and twelve paper sacks. Are those all full?
Mired: Yes. I'm afraid so. And those are the boxes that didn't fit in the attic or under my bed. Or in the basement.
Host: Okay. And what exactly is in those boxes?
Mired: (sighs) Oh ... everything my kids have ever done. Ever. All of it. Every time one of the kids does anything, I keep it. I can't bear to throw any of it away.
Host: Can you give us some examples of what you keep?
Mired: (pulls a box from under the wilted ficus tree) Well, this box is kind of a hodge-podge of things. Here is a spelling test from my oldest. I kept it because he spelled "stockpile" correctly. This is a card that my daughter gave me for Mother's Day. She made it herself. I have it rubber-banded together with all the other cards I got that year. This is a t-shirt that my oldest daughter wore to her first day of Kindergarten. It was her favorite shirt and most of the glitter has worn off. This is a "picture" my toddler drew for me. It was one of the first times she ever drew a circle. The paper with her very first circle is here somewhere ... maybe it's in one of those boxes under the dining room table.
Host: That is a rather eclectic collection of items. What else do you keep?
Mired: (selects a grocery sack from the top of the bookcase) This is full of photographs. This bundle is full of professional portraits of the kids. This bundle contains school class pictures. And this bundle is a mixture of birthday pictures. Oh look! Here is one I've been searching for. It's a picture of my oldest when he got his first bike. He was so proud of himself. I also keep their science projects and their journals. The journals aren't too tough to store, but the science projects can be a challenge. See that box over there? That is a diorama that my five year old daughter made. It's the habitat of a rolly-polly. For a small bug, she built a huge home for it.
Host: I imagine that you also keep their art projects as well. Where are those stored?
Mired: I have set aside the hall closet for their art projects. I would show you, but it's pretty full. I recently added some coloring pages that my baby scribbled for me and I was almost buried alive. It was an avalanche of macaroni art, water color pages, laminated place-mats and collages. I was almost hit in the head with a 3D map of Colorado. It weighs about 15 pounds due to the salt dough Rocky Mountains, so that would have left a mark.
Host: Yes, I would imagine so. Do you have any order to the boxes and bags here in the living room?
Mired: Order? Uh ... no. I intended to keep all this organized. I started with manilla envelopes that I would label and date. But then I got overwhelmed by the sheer amount of school work the kids would bring home every night, so I started just boxing it up once a month. Now I put the cardboard box right next to where the kids hang their backpacks. As I go through their folders, I transfer all the completed homework into the box for safe-keeping.
Host: So you keep everything? Even the pages torn out of the math workbooks?
Mired: Of course! I want to keep all their work so that I can show them someday how much they have improved! I'll show you. (searches through a box from under the fish tank) Here is an example of my eldest's progress. See how much nicer his number four looks? It used to look like a lightening bolt. And here you can see how he figured out that 38 plus 14 equals 52 by drawing a picture. This page is a great example of his art and math skills!
Host: I can see that. You mentioned earlier that you also store items under your bed. What sort of mementos are in those boxes?
Mired: Those boxes hold more of our family mementos. I have the kids' baby books and all the sentimental items that come along with having kids: their hospital bracelets, the outfit in which they first came home from the hospital, envelopes with their curly locks from their first hair cuts, ziplock bags with their first fingernail clippings ...
Host: (interrupts) I'm sorry. Did you say you kept their fingernail clippings?
Mired: Yes. Do you want to see them? They are so tiny. Itty-bitty nails from their itty-bitty fingers.
Host: Uhhh ... No, thank you. But, please continue.
Mired: I have also kept their ragged baby blankets. My daughter's lovey is full of holes and is an awful shade of grey, but it's too precious to throw out. I also have several boxes of their birthday cards from each year and Valentine's Day cards and Halloween cards and Christmas cards and Fourth of July cards ...
Host: "Fourth of July cards" ... I didn't realize that people sent out cards for the Fourth of July.
Mired: Well ... not often, but that just makes them all the more special.
Host: "Mired" it would appear that you are attached to these items because of their sentimental value. Would you agree?
Mired: Yes. I can find a story behind every picture, homework paper, art project, favorite toy, lock of hair, birthday card, science assignment, poem, doodle scrap, board book they ate, writing journal and finger nail. Each of those stories captures a snapshot of my kids at a specific point in their precious lives and freezes time for me. By keeping each and every memento, I am able to go back and remember each special moment with my special person. These kids are growing up far too fast for this mommy's heart and I guess by keeping absolutely everything I hope to be able to treasure this brief season of mothering for a little bit longer.
Host: (wiping a tear, sniffling) "Mired" ... that just beautiful. But, you do realize that you can't keep everything. There is not enough room in this house for you to hold onto every little sentimental thing from your kids.
Mired: I know. That's why I've asked my husband to build the addition.
Host: Well folks, that's it for this week on "Horrific Hoarding". Join us next Thursday for our visit with "Squirreling Away in Sacramento". Thanks for joining us! Bye-bye!
(cue music)
___________________________
Prompt #2 - If you were a hoarder, what would you hoard?
In all serious, I do have a large plastic bin behind the rocking chair in my bedroom full (to the brim) of school and life mementos from the past 9 years. I would love to have a better plan, but this is the best I can do right now. That is until it starts taking over the rest of the house! I do have trouble throwing things out for the same reason that poor "Mired" is drowning in boxes and bags. My babies are growing up too fast and I want a little something from them to hang on to. For a peek into my heart, check out Sara Groves' precious song, "Small Piece of You". Just be sure to grab a tissue first. :)
Host: Good morning and welcome to this week's edition of "Horrific Hoarding". Today's guest is a stay-at-home mom of four who has, as usual, requested that we keep her identity a secret. She has selected the name, "Mired" for today's show. Thank you, "Mired", for the opportunity to come to your home.
Mired: Uhhh ... you're welcome. It's good to be here. I mean, it's good for you to be here. Would you like to have a seat? Oops. Well ... let me clear a space here on the sofa for you. I'll just shove this box over here. (grunts) There.
Host: Thank you, "Mired", let's go ahead and get started. What is it exactly that you hoard?
Mired: Well, as you can see from the living room wall here, I have four beautiful kids. And as you can see from the boxes of mementos along the wall there, they each accumulate a lot of stuff.
Host: Wow. That is a lot of boxes. From where I sit here on the sofa, surrounded by three boxes, I can count (pauses while counting) ... twenty-six boxes and twelve paper sacks. Are those all full?
Mired: Yes. I'm afraid so. And those are the boxes that didn't fit in the attic or under my bed. Or in the basement.
Host: Okay. And what exactly is in those boxes?
Mired: (sighs) Oh ... everything my kids have ever done. Ever. All of it. Every time one of the kids does anything, I keep it. I can't bear to throw any of it away.
Host: Can you give us some examples of what you keep?
Mired: (pulls a box from under the wilted ficus tree) Well, this box is kind of a hodge-podge of things. Here is a spelling test from my oldest. I kept it because he spelled "stockpile" correctly. This is a card that my daughter gave me for Mother's Day. She made it herself. I have it rubber-banded together with all the other cards I got that year. This is a t-shirt that my oldest daughter wore to her first day of Kindergarten. It was her favorite shirt and most of the glitter has worn off. This is a "picture" my toddler drew for me. It was one of the first times she ever drew a circle. The paper with her very first circle is here somewhere ... maybe it's in one of those boxes under the dining room table.
Host: That is a rather eclectic collection of items. What else do you keep?
Mired: (selects a grocery sack from the top of the bookcase) This is full of photographs. This bundle is full of professional portraits of the kids. This bundle contains school class pictures. And this bundle is a mixture of birthday pictures. Oh look! Here is one I've been searching for. It's a picture of my oldest when he got his first bike. He was so proud of himself. I also keep their science projects and their journals. The journals aren't too tough to store, but the science projects can be a challenge. See that box over there? That is a diorama that my five year old daughter made. It's the habitat of a rolly-polly. For a small bug, she built a huge home for it.
Host: I imagine that you also keep their art projects as well. Where are those stored?
Mired: I have set aside the hall closet for their art projects. I would show you, but it's pretty full. I recently added some coloring pages that my baby scribbled for me and I was almost buried alive. It was an avalanche of macaroni art, water color pages, laminated place-mats and collages. I was almost hit in the head with a 3D map of Colorado. It weighs about 15 pounds due to the salt dough Rocky Mountains, so that would have left a mark.
Host: Yes, I would imagine so. Do you have any order to the boxes and bags here in the living room?
Mired: Order? Uh ... no. I intended to keep all this organized. I started with manilla envelopes that I would label and date. But then I got overwhelmed by the sheer amount of school work the kids would bring home every night, so I started just boxing it up once a month. Now I put the cardboard box right next to where the kids hang their backpacks. As I go through their folders, I transfer all the completed homework into the box for safe-keeping.
Host: So you keep everything? Even the pages torn out of the math workbooks?
Mired: Of course! I want to keep all their work so that I can show them someday how much they have improved! I'll show you. (searches through a box from under the fish tank) Here is an example of my eldest's progress. See how much nicer his number four looks? It used to look like a lightening bolt. And here you can see how he figured out that 38 plus 14 equals 52 by drawing a picture. This page is a great example of his art and math skills!
Host: I can see that. You mentioned earlier that you also store items under your bed. What sort of mementos are in those boxes?
Mired: Those boxes hold more of our family mementos. I have the kids' baby books and all the sentimental items that come along with having kids: their hospital bracelets, the outfit in which they first came home from the hospital, envelopes with their curly locks from their first hair cuts, ziplock bags with their first fingernail clippings ...
Host: (interrupts) I'm sorry. Did you say you kept their fingernail clippings?
Mired: Yes. Do you want to see them? They are so tiny. Itty-bitty nails from their itty-bitty fingers.
Host: Uhhh ... No, thank you. But, please continue.
Mired: I have also kept their ragged baby blankets. My daughter's lovey is full of holes and is an awful shade of grey, but it's too precious to throw out. I also have several boxes of their birthday cards from each year and Valentine's Day cards and Halloween cards and Christmas cards and Fourth of July cards ...
Host: "Fourth of July cards" ... I didn't realize that people sent out cards for the Fourth of July.
Mired: Well ... not often, but that just makes them all the more special.
Host: "Mired" it would appear that you are attached to these items because of their sentimental value. Would you agree?
Mired: Yes. I can find a story behind every picture, homework paper, art project, favorite toy, lock of hair, birthday card, science assignment, poem, doodle scrap, board book they ate, writing journal and finger nail. Each of those stories captures a snapshot of my kids at a specific point in their precious lives and freezes time for me. By keeping each and every memento, I am able to go back and remember each special moment with my special person. These kids are growing up far too fast for this mommy's heart and I guess by keeping absolutely everything I hope to be able to treasure this brief season of mothering for a little bit longer.
Host: (wiping a tear, sniffling) "Mired" ... that just beautiful. But, you do realize that you can't keep everything. There is not enough room in this house for you to hold onto every little sentimental thing from your kids.
Mired: I know. That's why I've asked my husband to build the addition.
Host: Well folks, that's it for this week on "Horrific Hoarding". Join us next Thursday for our visit with "Squirreling Away in Sacramento". Thanks for joining us! Bye-bye!
(cue music)
___________________________
Prompt #2 - If you were a hoarder, what would you hoard?
In all serious, I do have a large plastic bin behind the rocking chair in my bedroom full (to the brim) of school and life mementos from the past 9 years. I would love to have a better plan, but this is the best I can do right now. That is until it starts taking over the rest of the house! I do have trouble throwing things out for the same reason that poor "Mired" is drowning in boxes and bags. My babies are growing up too fast and I want a little something from them to hang on to. For a peek into my heart, check out Sara Groves' precious song, "Small Piece of You". Just be sure to grab a tissue first. :)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Time-Warp Wednesday
Being a parent is a lot of work. I know, I know ... that is not news to you. But sometimes the work of parenting overlaps with the joy of parenting. The love of parenting. The fun of parenting.
Even when we carve out time for a family vacation, that treat of a little rest and relaxation is hemmed in on every side with the demands of parenting. Just because we are out of town doesn't mean that we are out of our role of being the boss. We might have run away for a quick break, but we can't run away from the responsibility of continuing to train up our kids.
No matter how dearly you would like to temporarily hang up your Mom-Hat, those kids over there still belong to you. Yep ... those little crazy kids trying to bury their sister in the sand ... they are yours. We don't really get a vacation from parenting because it's a full-time job. You invest yourself into your brood 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year.
But sometimes, God might surprise you with a little break ...
We took advantage of the long Labor Day weekend to take a mini-vacation over to Denver. Our principle reasons for this trip were to see Gramps & Grammy, enjoy a change of scene and take in Les Mis. All of us had been anticipating this trip for months.
We were prepared mentally to be in full-parenting-mode. When you travel as a herd, you are bound to find yourself in more than one occasion having to be the Alpha-Animal. We want to enjoy our kids and we have found that if we keep up the usual routines and expectations, everybody has more fun.
But sometimes you have to shake things up.
On Saturday, Gramps and Grammy suggested we take the pack down to the zoo. Seeing as Brett and I had envisioned staying home and staying busy, this prospect of taking a family safari trip (and really wearing out our little beasts in the process) was a fantastic idea. Little did we know what a terrific day was in store!
The weather was fantastic! After enduring the desert high 90's for most of the month, we reveled in the cool breeze with the temperature in the mid-80's. We got to be outside and not dripping with sweat. That was a win! The kids actually suffered a few bouts with goose-bumps during lunch and had to move to the sun. Poor babies!
The animals were animated! Oftentimes our experience at the zoo is walking from exhibit to exhibit, peering through the fences and trying to count how many tigers are laying in that far-off pile of striped fur. Or perhaps reading the signs on the exhibit walls which explain that due to the soaring temperatures, the polar bears/hippos/rhinos/lions/tigers/bears (oh my!) are all staying indoors where it's cool. This time, however, we watched as the snow leopards batted and battled for the plastic ball in their cage - they frolicked like any ordinary pair of house cats. We stood for 15 minutes watching spider monkeys scamper through the tree tops. We laughed at their antics as they hung from their feet and tails, peering into the food baskets and lounged on the tree limbs. We marveled at the appetite of the giant turtle as the zoo keeper skewered whole chicken breasts and fed the aquatic beast. We giggled as the baby orangutang practiced her climbing skills and her momma hid under a white sheet. (I could completely relate to that poor mommy!) It was the most interesting trip to the zoo I've ever had!
The kids had fun! We were amazed at how well our kids did. And for how long they kept having fun. We had anticipated leaving shortly after lunch, but actually found ourselves leaving closer to dinner time. We were prepared to adhere to our nap schedules, but found that we didn't want to interrupt the day's fun! This was a refreshing change for us as a family - not having to squeeze a day's events into a 4-hour time period. It also gave us a taste of what the post-nap-era might be like ... and it was good!
I do have a Time-Warp snapshot to share with you and it's not from this past weekend. It's from Christmas of 2005. In reminiscing about past zoo trips, this is one of the most memorable.
The Denver Zoo celebrates Christmas, too, by decorating the exhibits (not the animals) with twinkling lights. They extend their hours into the evening and families come out in droves to see the animals and decorations. We went that year with Aaron (age 3 1/2) and Norah (age 2) and Gramps & Grammy.
This trip was a bit more work for obvious reasons (their ages) and another surprise reason (everyone looks the same in a winter hat and coat). It was fun to see the lights and decorations, but it was alarming to see so many little people wearing red or pink coats. I'm just glad that when we got back in the van, the two little kids under those winter caps were mine!
Even when we carve out time for a family vacation, that treat of a little rest and relaxation is hemmed in on every side with the demands of parenting. Just because we are out of town doesn't mean that we are out of our role of being the boss. We might have run away for a quick break, but we can't run away from the responsibility of continuing to train up our kids.
No matter how dearly you would like to temporarily hang up your Mom-Hat, those kids over there still belong to you. Yep ... those little crazy kids trying to bury their sister in the sand ... they are yours. We don't really get a vacation from parenting because it's a full-time job. You invest yourself into your brood 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year.
But sometimes, God might surprise you with a little break ...
We took advantage of the long Labor Day weekend to take a mini-vacation over to Denver. Our principle reasons for this trip were to see Gramps & Grammy, enjoy a change of scene and take in Les Mis. All of us had been anticipating this trip for months.
We were prepared mentally to be in full-parenting-mode. When you travel as a herd, you are bound to find yourself in more than one occasion having to be the Alpha-Animal. We want to enjoy our kids and we have found that if we keep up the usual routines and expectations, everybody has more fun.
But sometimes you have to shake things up.
On Saturday, Gramps and Grammy suggested we take the pack down to the zoo. Seeing as Brett and I had envisioned staying home and staying busy, this prospect of taking a family safari trip (and really wearing out our little beasts in the process) was a fantastic idea. Little did we know what a terrific day was in store!
The weather was fantastic! After enduring the desert high 90's for most of the month, we reveled in the cool breeze with the temperature in the mid-80's. We got to be outside and not dripping with sweat. That was a win! The kids actually suffered a few bouts with goose-bumps during lunch and had to move to the sun. Poor babies!
The animals were animated! Oftentimes our experience at the zoo is walking from exhibit to exhibit, peering through the fences and trying to count how many tigers are laying in that far-off pile of striped fur. Or perhaps reading the signs on the exhibit walls which explain that due to the soaring temperatures, the polar bears/hippos/rhinos/lions/tigers/bears (oh my!) are all staying indoors where it's cool. This time, however, we watched as the snow leopards batted and battled for the plastic ball in their cage - they frolicked like any ordinary pair of house cats. We stood for 15 minutes watching spider monkeys scamper through the tree tops. We laughed at their antics as they hung from their feet and tails, peering into the food baskets and lounged on the tree limbs. We marveled at the appetite of the giant turtle as the zoo keeper skewered whole chicken breasts and fed the aquatic beast. We giggled as the baby orangutang practiced her climbing skills and her momma hid under a white sheet. (I could completely relate to that poor mommy!) It was the most interesting trip to the zoo I've ever had!
The kids had fun! We were amazed at how well our kids did. And for how long they kept having fun. We had anticipated leaving shortly after lunch, but actually found ourselves leaving closer to dinner time. We were prepared to adhere to our nap schedules, but found that we didn't want to interrupt the day's fun! This was a refreshing change for us as a family - not having to squeeze a day's events into a 4-hour time period. It also gave us a taste of what the post-nap-era might be like ... and it was good!
I do have a Time-Warp snapshot to share with you and it's not from this past weekend. It's from Christmas of 2005. In reminiscing about past zoo trips, this is one of the most memorable.
The Denver Zoo celebrates Christmas, too, by decorating the exhibits (not the animals) with twinkling lights. They extend their hours into the evening and families come out in droves to see the animals and decorations. We went that year with Aaron (age 3 1/2) and Norah (age 2) and Gramps & Grammy.
 |
| I believe Ashley was also along for this trip ... she's the bump under my winter coat. |
This trip was a bit more work for obvious reasons (their ages) and another surprise reason (everyone looks the same in a winter hat and coat). It was fun to see the lights and decorations, but it was alarming to see so many little people wearing red or pink coats. I'm just glad that when we got back in the van, the two little kids under those winter caps were mine!
 |
| That is not a real giraffe. :) |
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Working Hard at Playing
We ran away this past weekend. We loaded up the van with the kids, a couple of suitcases, several hours of audio books, a bag full of snacks and hit the road. My brother and sister-in-law gratefully added to their menagerie with our recently shaved, still-a-bean-bag dog and our molting and trembling song-less canary ... is that appealing or what? The fish had to fend for themselves and fight over the oh, so tantalizing flaky weekend feeder stick. Gratefully there were no floaters when we got home.
We enjoyed time with Gramps & Grammy, eating a few meals on their back deck, re-discovering the treasure trove of toys in the basement, recounting all of our scholastic adventures and ... soaking up the songs and story of Les Mis.
In his typical fashion of generosity and astonishment, Brett gifted me for Mother's Day and our anniversary (and Father's Day, too) with tickets to see our favorite show. And in my typical fashion, I was momentarily speechless and then started babbling about how excited I was!
As soon as I overcame my shock at holding those precious tickets in my hand, I began anticipating this trip by listening to the music. Again and again. Norah quickly fell in love with the music, as well. On more than one occasion, I would hear the opening "Work Song" from the girls' bedroom ... "Ba dum, Ba dum, Don't look them in the eye, Ba dum, Ba dum, You're here until you die" ... not exactly a cheery tune. Follow that with "I Dreamed a Dream" and your heart will break! In light of the music becoming a part of our daily routine, it was inevitable that we would visit about the actual story.
The powerful story of despair, mercy, redemption, hope, forgiveness and transformed lives.
In retelling the redemptive story of Jean Valjean, Javert, Fantine, Cosette and Marius you can't help but hear the resonance of God's own story of redemption and mercy. Nestled among the scenes and songs are beautiful snapshots of God and His love:
When the bishop extends mercy to the criminal, Jean Valjean, in the midst of his blatant thievery, we see a glimpse of how God offers us forgiveness, "while we were still sinners." (Romans 5:8)
This same bishop sings of buying Valjean's soul "for God". In exchange for two silver candlesticks, Valjean is challenged to change his life and bring light to the dark world. In the same way, Jesus, "gave Himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for Himself a people that are His very own, eager to do what is good." (Titus 2:14)
As Fantine's health fails and the reformed Jean Valjean offers to care for her daughter as his very own, we see an example of how God has adopted us each His children, "heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ." (Romans 8:16-17)
Cosette grows up sheltered by Jean Valjean without a need in the world. It isn't until she comes face to face with the horrors of war and poverty that she responds with gratitude. In the same way, we are often blind to the goodness of God and can grow complacent in our relationship with Him. It isn't until we encounter hardships that we turn to Him. But when we turn to Him, we are promised, "that times of refreshing will come from the Lord." (Acts 3:18-19)
Finally, when Javert eventually corners Jean Valjean, he fully expects for the reformed criminal to kill him. To his surprise, Jean Valjean releases him ... extending the mercy he received from the bishop to Javert, his enemy. Javert's surprise quickly turns to misery as he cannot accept this forgiveness ... he cannot make mercy fit into his ideology of justice and in despair takes his own life. In the same way, for some God's forgiveness is too simple, too easy. But God's promise is clear, "He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the Kingdom of the Son He loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." (Colossians 1:13-14)
I told you it was powerful!
I truly believe that Victor Hugo wrote the story with the purpose of pointing to God's redemptive grace and mercy. Through the prayers of Valjean in the song, "Bring Him Home", in the goose-bump inducing song, "Who Am I", and in the beautiful lyrics of, "Come to Me", you can't miss Hugo's faith in God. A God of light, hope and grace.
We enjoyed time with Gramps & Grammy, eating a few meals on their back deck, re-discovering the treasure trove of toys in the basement, recounting all of our scholastic adventures and ... soaking up the songs and story of Les Mis.
In his typical fashion of generosity and astonishment, Brett gifted me for Mother's Day and our anniversary (and Father's Day, too) with tickets to see our favorite show. And in my typical fashion, I was momentarily speechless and then started babbling about how excited I was!
As soon as I overcame my shock at holding those precious tickets in my hand, I began anticipating this trip by listening to the music. Again and again. Norah quickly fell in love with the music, as well. On more than one occasion, I would hear the opening "Work Song" from the girls' bedroom ... "Ba dum, Ba dum, Don't look them in the eye, Ba dum, Ba dum, You're here until you die" ... not exactly a cheery tune. Follow that with "I Dreamed a Dream" and your heart will break! In light of the music becoming a part of our daily routine, it was inevitable that we would visit about the actual story.
The powerful story of despair, mercy, redemption, hope, forgiveness and transformed lives.
In retelling the redemptive story of Jean Valjean, Javert, Fantine, Cosette and Marius you can't help but hear the resonance of God's own story of redemption and mercy. Nestled among the scenes and songs are beautiful snapshots of God and His love:
When the bishop extends mercy to the criminal, Jean Valjean, in the midst of his blatant thievery, we see a glimpse of how God offers us forgiveness, "while we were still sinners." (Romans 5:8)
This same bishop sings of buying Valjean's soul "for God". In exchange for two silver candlesticks, Valjean is challenged to change his life and bring light to the dark world. In the same way, Jesus, "gave Himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for Himself a people that are His very own, eager to do what is good." (Titus 2:14)
As Fantine's health fails and the reformed Jean Valjean offers to care for her daughter as his very own, we see an example of how God has adopted us each His children, "heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ." (Romans 8:16-17)
Cosette grows up sheltered by Jean Valjean without a need in the world. It isn't until she comes face to face with the horrors of war and poverty that she responds with gratitude. In the same way, we are often blind to the goodness of God and can grow complacent in our relationship with Him. It isn't until we encounter hardships that we turn to Him. But when we turn to Him, we are promised, "that times of refreshing will come from the Lord." (Acts 3:18-19)
Finally, when Javert eventually corners Jean Valjean, he fully expects for the reformed criminal to kill him. To his surprise, Jean Valjean releases him ... extending the mercy he received from the bishop to Javert, his enemy. Javert's surprise quickly turns to misery as he cannot accept this forgiveness ... he cannot make mercy fit into his ideology of justice and in despair takes his own life. In the same way, for some God's forgiveness is too simple, too easy. But God's promise is clear, "He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the Kingdom of the Son He loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." (Colossians 1:13-14)
I told you it was powerful!
I truly believe that Victor Hugo wrote the story with the purpose of pointing to God's redemptive grace and mercy. Through the prayers of Valjean in the song, "Bring Him Home", in the goose-bump inducing song, "Who Am I", and in the beautiful lyrics of, "Come to Me", you can't miss Hugo's faith in God. A God of light, hope and grace.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Food For Thought - Revisited
This week, Lydia learned a new word.
Peasheeze.
Daddy came home with two boxes of peaches and Liddy ate most of them! Honestly, if I didn't watch that girl like a hawk, she would have eaten through the first box on Friday morning.
She is the stickies, juiciest, sweetest, tastiest little cutie!
In honor of peach season, we have been eating them whole, slicing them to put on our ice cream and cereal, savoring a serving (or two) of peach crisp, freezing them for peach smoothies and piling peach salsa on everything. Or just on a spoon.
Drip, slurp, mmmmm ....
Last year about this time I highlighted this succulent fruit on another Food For Thought and it's definitely worth revisiting.
Enjoy ... and I recommend Palisade Peaches ... just sayin'.
Peasheeze ... err ... Peaches
Peasheeze.
Daddy came home with two boxes of peaches and Liddy ate most of them! Honestly, if I didn't watch that girl like a hawk, she would have eaten through the first box on Friday morning.
She is the stickies, juiciest, sweetest, tastiest little cutie!
In honor of peach season, we have been eating them whole, slicing them to put on our ice cream and cereal, savoring a serving (or two) of peach crisp, freezing them for peach smoothies and piling peach salsa on everything. Or just on a spoon.
Drip, slurp, mmmmm ....
Last year about this time I highlighted this succulent fruit on another Food For Thought and it's definitely worth revisiting.
Enjoy ... and I recommend Palisade Peaches ... just sayin'.
Peasheeze ... err ... Peaches
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Point Your Toes!
My sister and I trained for the Olympics in our backyard. We had a variety of events that we were interested in: hula hoop running, stationary biking (in the horse-shoe pit), duck race-walking and my particular favorite ...
Tree Swing Trapeze!
We had a swing on the west side of our house. Two rough ropes were secured to a sturdy branch and at the bottom, an old wood plank. Perched on the swing, we would grasp the ropes with our gloved hands and travel to a place where you can win a gold medal just for swinging. With grace, of course.
It looked a little something like this:
It's my turn to be the acrobat. My sister will be the coach for a bit and then we'll switch. Coach Allison stands to one side with her hands on her hips.
"Alright ... are you ready?"
"Yes, Coach," I reply, standing beside the tree swing.
"Do you have your gear?"
"Yes, Coach. I have everything right here," I answer pulling on my winter gloves. We've discovered (the painful way) that this particular rope leaves splinters in our tender little hands. Terrible, hair-like slivers that Mom can't get out with her tweezers. To keep our hands splinter-free, we wear an old pair of ski gloves. While our hands sweat inside the mittens, we don't mind because we look cool. Real trapeze equipment.
"Okay, let's get you warmed-up. I want you on the swing and you need to get going high enough to touch the roof ten times."
"Yes, Coach!"
I stand in front of the swing and walk backwards until the wooden plank rests against my shoulder blades. Then I run forward and pull up with my arms, feeling the seat slide under my backside. As I settle into the seat, I lean back and extend my legs in front of me. As the swing begins its descent, I tuck my legs and lean forward. I feel my hair blowing over my face. I sway forward again and I can almost touch the roof of the house with the tip of my shoe. On the return trip, my tennies tap against the wood of the roof.
"One! Keep pumping your legs! Two!"
I find the rhythm of the swing - back and forth, back and forth - and soon, I'm high enough in the air to push against the edge of the roof. I kick myself backwards. I love the feeling of almost flying!
"Ten! Okay ... come down and we'll practice another skill. Something more challenging."
As I drag my feet and the swing comes to a rest, I'm tingling with excitement. Something more challenging.
"I want you to stand on the swing. Hold on tight to the ropes and I'll get you started."
Coach Allison takes hold of the ropes and pulls me backward. Quickly she runs ahead, propelling me forward. Then she darts out of the way and orders me to keep up the momentum.
It's not easy to get a swing going while standing. I lean forward and backward, forward and backward, forward and backward ... slowly I sense the arc of the swing getting higher. I close my eyes and suddenly I'm no longer a mere 20 inches off the ground, but 20 feet high above a net. The audience in the seats far below "ooh" and "aah" as my trapeze sails across the expanse above them.
"Stand on your left foot and extend your right foot out in front. Now do an arabesque ... point your toes behind you. Good ... now do that on the other leg."
The crowd cheers! I feel the thrill of balancing on one foot. Graceful movements set to music.
Slowly the swing comes to a stop. I open my eyes and look to my coach.
"Now you are going to sit down and we're going to practice our spinning drills. Tuck your feet in if you want to go fast."
I curl up in a ball on the swing. My knees and elbows are tucked in tight. Coach Allison takes hold of the ropes and begins twisting them. Around and around I go and with each turn, I am further and further off the ground. Now my toes can't touch the dirt below the swing.
"Hold on! And stay curled up until I say so."
With one last shove, she steps away from the swing. Slowly the ropes begin to unwind and then I begin to pick up speed. Everything is a blur - the house, cottonwood tree and my coach are smeared together. I close my eyes and see the lights of the arena. The music is building to a crescendo and the crowd below me holds its collective breath.
The pirouetting swing has begun to wind up the other direction.
"Stay tucked!"
I would nod if I could, but the g-forces are too strong. I'm frozen in a spinning ball. My arms are getting tired of holding myself in this position and I'm relieved when I hear:
"Extend your legs and one of your arms!"
I unfold, pointing one satin-slippered foot out in front of me. The sequins and jewels on my leotard sparkle in the lights of the stadium. The crowd is on its feet cheering, clapping. It's a standing ovation!
As the swing completes it's final rotation, my head is still spinning. I wait a moment for my eyes to focus and then leap nimbly from the swing. I salute.
"Ta-dah!"
"Good job ... now it's my turn."
I hand my gloves over to the next athlete and take my place on the coach's platform.
"Let's have you warm up by touching the roof ten times. Then we'll do something fun like pushing off the cottonwood tree for some side-to-side tricks."
"Okay, Coach," Allison says.
"One."
__________________________________________
Prompt #1 Write a post about a childhood memory as if you're in that moment again ... from the perspective of yourself as that child.
Tree Swing Trapeze!
We had a swing on the west side of our house. Two rough ropes were secured to a sturdy branch and at the bottom, an old wood plank. Perched on the swing, we would grasp the ropes with our gloved hands and travel to a place where you can win a gold medal just for swinging. With grace, of course.
It looked a little something like this:
It's my turn to be the acrobat. My sister will be the coach for a bit and then we'll switch. Coach Allison stands to one side with her hands on her hips.
"Alright ... are you ready?"
"Yes, Coach," I reply, standing beside the tree swing.
"Do you have your gear?"
"Yes, Coach. I have everything right here," I answer pulling on my winter gloves. We've discovered (the painful way) that this particular rope leaves splinters in our tender little hands. Terrible, hair-like slivers that Mom can't get out with her tweezers. To keep our hands splinter-free, we wear an old pair of ski gloves. While our hands sweat inside the mittens, we don't mind because we look cool. Real trapeze equipment.
"Okay, let's get you warmed-up. I want you on the swing and you need to get going high enough to touch the roof ten times."
"Yes, Coach!"
I stand in front of the swing and walk backwards until the wooden plank rests against my shoulder blades. Then I run forward and pull up with my arms, feeling the seat slide under my backside. As I settle into the seat, I lean back and extend my legs in front of me. As the swing begins its descent, I tuck my legs and lean forward. I feel my hair blowing over my face. I sway forward again and I can almost touch the roof of the house with the tip of my shoe. On the return trip, my tennies tap against the wood of the roof.
"One! Keep pumping your legs! Two!"
I find the rhythm of the swing - back and forth, back and forth - and soon, I'm high enough in the air to push against the edge of the roof. I kick myself backwards. I love the feeling of almost flying!
"Ten! Okay ... come down and we'll practice another skill. Something more challenging."
As I drag my feet and the swing comes to a rest, I'm tingling with excitement. Something more challenging.
"I want you to stand on the swing. Hold on tight to the ropes and I'll get you started."
Coach Allison takes hold of the ropes and pulls me backward. Quickly she runs ahead, propelling me forward. Then she darts out of the way and orders me to keep up the momentum.
It's not easy to get a swing going while standing. I lean forward and backward, forward and backward, forward and backward ... slowly I sense the arc of the swing getting higher. I close my eyes and suddenly I'm no longer a mere 20 inches off the ground, but 20 feet high above a net. The audience in the seats far below "ooh" and "aah" as my trapeze sails across the expanse above them.
"Stand on your left foot and extend your right foot out in front. Now do an arabesque ... point your toes behind you. Good ... now do that on the other leg."
The crowd cheers! I feel the thrill of balancing on one foot. Graceful movements set to music.
Slowly the swing comes to a stop. I open my eyes and look to my coach.
"Now you are going to sit down and we're going to practice our spinning drills. Tuck your feet in if you want to go fast."
I curl up in a ball on the swing. My knees and elbows are tucked in tight. Coach Allison takes hold of the ropes and begins twisting them. Around and around I go and with each turn, I am further and further off the ground. Now my toes can't touch the dirt below the swing.
"Hold on! And stay curled up until I say so."
With one last shove, she steps away from the swing. Slowly the ropes begin to unwind and then I begin to pick up speed. Everything is a blur - the house, cottonwood tree and my coach are smeared together. I close my eyes and see the lights of the arena. The music is building to a crescendo and the crowd below me holds its collective breath.
The pirouetting swing has begun to wind up the other direction.
"Stay tucked!"
I would nod if I could, but the g-forces are too strong. I'm frozen in a spinning ball. My arms are getting tired of holding myself in this position and I'm relieved when I hear:
"Extend your legs and one of your arms!"
I unfold, pointing one satin-slippered foot out in front of me. The sequins and jewels on my leotard sparkle in the lights of the stadium. The crowd is on its feet cheering, clapping. It's a standing ovation!
As the swing completes it's final rotation, my head is still spinning. I wait a moment for my eyes to focus and then leap nimbly from the swing. I salute.
"Ta-dah!"
"Good job ... now it's my turn."
I hand my gloves over to the next athlete and take my place on the coach's platform.
"Let's have you warm up by touching the roof ten times. Then we'll do something fun like pushing off the cottonwood tree for some side-to-side tricks."
"Okay, Coach," Allison says.
"One."
__________________________________________
Prompt #1 Write a post about a childhood memory as if you're in that moment again ... from the perspective of yourself as that child.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Time-Warp Wednesday
Do you have one of those childhood memories that comes to mind with startling clarity? Along with the sensation of splinters and really sticky glue?
When I was about nine or ten years old, my sister and I built our very own dollhouse. This was not a dollhouse kit, mind you. We already had a large dollhouse in our room that my mom or dad built for us. It was a two-story home complete with furniture. There was even a little bathtub that our gerbil liked to climb into when we would set him loose in our little pressed-wood mansion. We would giggle as he scurried upstairs ... he was probably terrified and looking for a safe place to hide.
No. This dollhouse we made ourselves from scraps lying around the woodpile. We scavenged around my dad's toolshed and amongst the piles of pine and aspen under the lean-to looking for the perfect pieces. Eventually we had enough to put together our own one room house. With only our imaginations (and not a lot of architectural know-how) we set to work.
I remember sitting together under the old cottonwood tree in the side yard laboring over the walls and roof. Our most challenging dilemma was figuring out how to keep the wood in place long enough for the glue to dry. And when you are reeeeaalllly generous with the glue (because more is better, right?) you can be waiting a loooong time for it to dry. One of us would be stuck holding the walls and roof in one place (probably Allison seeing as she is two years younger and I was a bossy-pants) while the other of us (that's me) would be working on the furniture. Eventually the glue would be dry enough for Allison to let go and as long as there wasn't any wind, she could join me in the interior design.
Unfortunately, we were a bit lacking in the structural integrity department and on a regular basis we were forced to return to the construction of the house and reinforce it with ... you got it ... more glue. I don't remember ever actually playing with the dollhouse, it was a bit too unstable in its construction to be a dwelling place. But we never seemed to tire from trying to shore up the walls and roof long enough to dream about playing with it.
When we weren't fortifying the dollhouse, we spent our time rummaging through our mother's fabric scraps for the furnishings. We had rugs on the floor, a table complete with tablecloth and wooden blocks covered in fabric for a couch and beds. We were certainly resourceful!
The final addition to our original creation was the family members. We raided our goody drawer in the kitchen for wooden clothes pins - and probably stole a few off the chip bags from the top of the refrigerator, too. By dissembling the clothes pins, we then had two little people to live in our home. We chose a variety of fabric scraps for their clothing and wrapped the colorful swatches around the pins, securing them with our endless supply of glue. Some girls wore dresses while the boys had shirts and shorts. To finish them, we drew little faces on the upper portion of the pin and added curly or spiky hair with our Sharpies.
Our own little "home sweet home":
I'm not sure where that half-an-A-frame house ended up, but I'm grateful for the memory of building it (and re-building it) with my sissy.
When I was about nine or ten years old, my sister and I built our very own dollhouse. This was not a dollhouse kit, mind you. We already had a large dollhouse in our room that my mom or dad built for us. It was a two-story home complete with furniture. There was even a little bathtub that our gerbil liked to climb into when we would set him loose in our little pressed-wood mansion. We would giggle as he scurried upstairs ... he was probably terrified and looking for a safe place to hide.
No. This dollhouse we made ourselves from scraps lying around the woodpile. We scavenged around my dad's toolshed and amongst the piles of pine and aspen under the lean-to looking for the perfect pieces. Eventually we had enough to put together our own one room house. With only our imaginations (and not a lot of architectural know-how) we set to work.
I remember sitting together under the old cottonwood tree in the side yard laboring over the walls and roof. Our most challenging dilemma was figuring out how to keep the wood in place long enough for the glue to dry. And when you are reeeeaalllly generous with the glue (because more is better, right?) you can be waiting a loooong time for it to dry. One of us would be stuck holding the walls and roof in one place (probably Allison seeing as she is two years younger and I was a bossy-pants) while the other of us (that's me) would be working on the furniture. Eventually the glue would be dry enough for Allison to let go and as long as there wasn't any wind, she could join me in the interior design.
Unfortunately, we were a bit lacking in the structural integrity department and on a regular basis we were forced to return to the construction of the house and reinforce it with ... you got it ... more glue. I don't remember ever actually playing with the dollhouse, it was a bit too unstable in its construction to be a dwelling place. But we never seemed to tire from trying to shore up the walls and roof long enough to dream about playing with it.
When we weren't fortifying the dollhouse, we spent our time rummaging through our mother's fabric scraps for the furnishings. We had rugs on the floor, a table complete with tablecloth and wooden blocks covered in fabric for a couch and beds. We were certainly resourceful!
The final addition to our original creation was the family members. We raided our goody drawer in the kitchen for wooden clothes pins - and probably stole a few off the chip bags from the top of the refrigerator, too. By dissembling the clothes pins, we then had two little people to live in our home. We chose a variety of fabric scraps for their clothing and wrapped the colorful swatches around the pins, securing them with our endless supply of glue. Some girls wore dresses while the boys had shirts and shorts. To finish them, we drew little faces on the upper portion of the pin and added curly or spiky hair with our Sharpies.
Our own little "home sweet home":
I'm not sure where that half-an-A-frame house ended up, but I'm grateful for the memory of building it (and re-building it) with my sissy.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Be Strong and Courageous
As we crossed the street, little Ashley trotted alongside me. I pulled the stroller to a stop on the other side of the crosswalk and set the brake. We had a few minutes until the big kids got out of school ... and a few minutes to catch our breath from the hike up the hill. As I reached for the icy water bottle in the stroller pouch, Ashley shrieked. I had inadvertently stepped on an old apple core. Covered in ants.
"Hey, it's okay. No problem, Honey," I said reassuringly as I nudged the ant-feast against the fence with the toe of my shoe.
I turned to Ashley. There was obviously a problem. Her wide eyes surveyed the scene and then she screamed again.
One little ant had managed to leap from the apple to my shoe and was slowly making his way up my leg.
"Whoa, whoa. Settle down," I said as I brushed off the detoured little fellow, "See? He's gone."
Ashley was breathing quickly and her sweet little lips were quivering. Ever since her run in with the wasps, she has been understandably a little unnerved around creepy crawlies. She nodded her head, as if convincing herself that the danger had passed.
Then she went a little bonkers.
One minuscule ant was headed the wrong way ... crawling up her leg. Oops.
Sweet Le-le screamed and started tap-dancing in place. Her little legs were flailing around. She flapped her arms wildly, sending her jangle-y bracelets up into the air, scattering across the sidewalk. She was terrified. (And so was that poor little ant.)
With great mommy-speed, I swept the unfortunate bug off into space and pulled Ashley toward me. I hunkered down next to her and tried to console her.
"Sweetie ... it's just a little ant. He didn't want to hurt you, he was just lost. He's gone now. You're okay."
I rubbed her back, wiped her tears and peered into her scared little eyes. I explained to her that ants don't usually hurt you. Some might have little pinchers, but most just lumber from place to place carrying things. This tiny guy was ...
Ouch!
At just that moment I felt a sting on my foot. And then another.
As nonchalantly as I could, I casually shook my sandal off my foot and brushed the little fiery ant bully off my foot.
Thanks, buddy. You're really not helping things here.
So much for, "he didn't want to hurt you." Apparently there is a bit of danger lurking everywhere ... even at the crosswalk.
How often have you found yourself in that same type of situation?
Perhaps a loved one comes up against something difficult, something scary, something new, something sad and you find that you must be brave for the both of you. Then in the midst of your attempts to bring comfort and encouragement, you, too, are struck with a taste of their fear, worry and weariness.
How do you remain strong and courageous in the face of of someone else's challenges?
More than anything, Ashley needed me to be brave and even though part of me want to tap-dance my way to an ant-free-zone, I needed to be calm. My panic would have only escalated her already high-level of bug frenzy. My rational response allowed her to lower her insect-threat-level back down to "code mellow-yellow".
I know that I won't always be able to sweep away my kids fears and worries - at least not as easily as thwacking that ant - but we can take these opportunities to learn how to deal with our problems sensibly ... while still validating their concerns. We can see these little scary episodes as teachable moments and learn how to talk calmly, breathe deeply, pray quietly and remind ourselves of God's presence.
In the Old Testament book of Joshua, we read about a promise that God made to the Israelite leader, Joshua. After forty years of wandering in the desert, God's people are finally preparing to cross the Jordan River and enter the land promised to them. Most certainly a scary prospect.
Here's what God has to say:
7 “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. 8 Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:7-9
When I read this text, I am struck by the number of times God tells Joshua not be be afraid or discouraged or weak or cowardly. I think of Joshua as being a great warrior, but it would appear that he had his own doubts and his own fears. Not only is this astonishing to learn, but it's also comforting, in a way. If God promised to be with Joshua as he set out to conquer the giants in the Promised land, then I know that He will be with me and my loved ones as we face our own giants.
Be they challenging friendships, hard life lessons ... or pesky little ants.
"Hey, it's okay. No problem, Honey," I said reassuringly as I nudged the ant-feast against the fence with the toe of my shoe.
I turned to Ashley. There was obviously a problem. Her wide eyes surveyed the scene and then she screamed again.
One little ant had managed to leap from the apple to my shoe and was slowly making his way up my leg.
"Whoa, whoa. Settle down," I said as I brushed off the detoured little fellow, "See? He's gone."
Ashley was breathing quickly and her sweet little lips were quivering. Ever since her run in with the wasps, she has been understandably a little unnerved around creepy crawlies. She nodded her head, as if convincing herself that the danger had passed.
Then she went a little bonkers.
One minuscule ant was headed the wrong way ... crawling up her leg. Oops.
Sweet Le-le screamed and started tap-dancing in place. Her little legs were flailing around. She flapped her arms wildly, sending her jangle-y bracelets up into the air, scattering across the sidewalk. She was terrified. (And so was that poor little ant.)
With great mommy-speed, I swept the unfortunate bug off into space and pulled Ashley toward me. I hunkered down next to her and tried to console her.
"Sweetie ... it's just a little ant. He didn't want to hurt you, he was just lost. He's gone now. You're okay."
I rubbed her back, wiped her tears and peered into her scared little eyes. I explained to her that ants don't usually hurt you. Some might have little pinchers, but most just lumber from place to place carrying things. This tiny guy was ...
Ouch!
At just that moment I felt a sting on my foot. And then another.
As nonchalantly as I could, I casually shook my sandal off my foot and brushed the little fiery ant bully off my foot.
Thanks, buddy. You're really not helping things here.
So much for, "he didn't want to hurt you." Apparently there is a bit of danger lurking everywhere ... even at the crosswalk.
How often have you found yourself in that same type of situation?
Perhaps a loved one comes up against something difficult, something scary, something new, something sad and you find that you must be brave for the both of you. Then in the midst of your attempts to bring comfort and encouragement, you, too, are struck with a taste of their fear, worry and weariness.
How do you remain strong and courageous in the face of of someone else's challenges?
More than anything, Ashley needed me to be brave and even though part of me want to tap-dance my way to an ant-free-zone, I needed to be calm. My panic would have only escalated her already high-level of bug frenzy. My rational response allowed her to lower her insect-threat-level back down to "code mellow-yellow".
I know that I won't always be able to sweep away my kids fears and worries - at least not as easily as thwacking that ant - but we can take these opportunities to learn how to deal with our problems sensibly ... while still validating their concerns. We can see these little scary episodes as teachable moments and learn how to talk calmly, breathe deeply, pray quietly and remind ourselves of God's presence.
In the Old Testament book of Joshua, we read about a promise that God made to the Israelite leader, Joshua. After forty years of wandering in the desert, God's people are finally preparing to cross the Jordan River and enter the land promised to them. Most certainly a scary prospect.
Here's what God has to say:
7 “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. 8 Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:7-9
When I read this text, I am struck by the number of times God tells Joshua not be be afraid or discouraged or weak or cowardly. I think of Joshua as being a great warrior, but it would appear that he had his own doubts and his own fears. Not only is this astonishing to learn, but it's also comforting, in a way. If God promised to be with Joshua as he set out to conquer the giants in the Promised land, then I know that He will be with me and my loved ones as we face our own giants.
Be they challenging friendships, hard life lessons ... or pesky little ants.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Building School Muscles
Over the course of the summer, I have enjoyed my 40 minutes of me-time in the morning. I'm plugged into my iPod and walking up and down every hill near our house. My three mile path looks a bit like a clover-leaf and while I'm not really getting anywhere, it's better than plodding away on a treadmill.
I have been pleased that my endurance has increased over the summer. My first trip out in June was only a two-and-a-half leaf clover - with me turning back with tired legs and achy hips. Now I'm up to a full four-leaf clover with a little extra oomph at the end which leads me to believe I need to find another hill!
One of my main motivations to roll out of bed each morning is the knowledge of how quickly my body can lose it's endurance. Slack off for a week and I'll be back to a lopsided clover. Of course, I'm also motivated by my weakness for chocolate. I figure if I get my walk in early, later on in the day when my sweet treat is whispering my name, maybe I won't feel so guilty! Maybe.
This endurance isn't something that comes easily or quickly. It requires me to push myself a bit, keep walking a little further and recognize the benefits of this workout ... even when I'm nearing the top of hill #4, my legs are tired and my heart is pounding. And my brain is contemplating turning around.
By keeping at it, I am succeeding in my efforts to build physical muscle.
In the same way, our kids have to keep at their new daily routine in order to build their school muscles. And it's going to take some real endurance.
We started school on Wednesday of last week and by the next day, the kids were wiped out. We call it Threshold Thursday ... the day of the week when the kids reach their limits and we teeter on the edge of some serious melt-downs.
Poor Ashley was suffering the worst.
Prior to our walk up to school to fetch the big kids, sweet Ashley had a full-blown sob/tantrum/fit. Something about socks, a peach and a band-aid. Pure misery. As I helped her pull herself together, her tired little eyes told me everything I needed to know. She was exhausted. Two days of kindergarten can really take it out of you!
Her state of despair continued off and on throughout the rest of the afternoon. And not to be out-fussed, the other kids joined in the fun. At one point, Ashley was weeping in her bed, Aaron was wailing in the living room and Norah was following me around the kitchen whining. Lydia did her part to add to the miserable state of our home with her own whimpering. Lovely.
Gratefully, this season of weakness doesn't last forever. I remember years past and the weeks of building up our endurance ... our school muscles. Each day the kids are getting stronger: able to pay attention longer, sit better, listen more attentively, participate more actively ... and come home happier.
Even as Mom I can't speed up this process. There is not scholastic steroid, that I know of. I can, however, encourage them to keep trekking and pray for my kiddos. I know that God is concerned even with these little challenges of growing up.
3 We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. 4 And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. 5 And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love. (Romans 5:3-5, NLT)
Maybe the bigger kids will achieve endurance in their school routine more quickly because their bodies and brains remember last year. But I have confidence that Ashley will build her own school muscles ... at least by Christmas break.
I have been pleased that my endurance has increased over the summer. My first trip out in June was only a two-and-a-half leaf clover - with me turning back with tired legs and achy hips. Now I'm up to a full four-leaf clover with a little extra oomph at the end which leads me to believe I need to find another hill!
One of my main motivations to roll out of bed each morning is the knowledge of how quickly my body can lose it's endurance. Slack off for a week and I'll be back to a lopsided clover. Of course, I'm also motivated by my weakness for chocolate. I figure if I get my walk in early, later on in the day when my sweet treat is whispering my name, maybe I won't feel so guilty! Maybe.
This endurance isn't something that comes easily or quickly. It requires me to push myself a bit, keep walking a little further and recognize the benefits of this workout ... even when I'm nearing the top of hill #4, my legs are tired and my heart is pounding. And my brain is contemplating turning around.
By keeping at it, I am succeeding in my efforts to build physical muscle.
In the same way, our kids have to keep at their new daily routine in order to build their school muscles. And it's going to take some real endurance.
We started school on Wednesday of last week and by the next day, the kids were wiped out. We call it Threshold Thursday ... the day of the week when the kids reach their limits and we teeter on the edge of some serious melt-downs.
Poor Ashley was suffering the worst.
Prior to our walk up to school to fetch the big kids, sweet Ashley had a full-blown sob/tantrum/fit. Something about socks, a peach and a band-aid. Pure misery. As I helped her pull herself together, her tired little eyes told me everything I needed to know. She was exhausted. Two days of kindergarten can really take it out of you!
Her state of despair continued off and on throughout the rest of the afternoon. And not to be out-fussed, the other kids joined in the fun. At one point, Ashley was weeping in her bed, Aaron was wailing in the living room and Norah was following me around the kitchen whining. Lydia did her part to add to the miserable state of our home with her own whimpering. Lovely.
Gratefully, this season of weakness doesn't last forever. I remember years past and the weeks of building up our endurance ... our school muscles. Each day the kids are getting stronger: able to pay attention longer, sit better, listen more attentively, participate more actively ... and come home happier.
Even as Mom I can't speed up this process. There is not scholastic steroid, that I know of. I can, however, encourage them to keep trekking and pray for my kiddos. I know that God is concerned even with these little challenges of growing up.
3 We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. 4 And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. 5 And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love. (Romans 5:3-5, NLT)
Maybe the bigger kids will achieve endurance in their school routine more quickly because their bodies and brains remember last year. But I have confidence that Ashley will build her own school muscles ... at least by Christmas break.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)