Blissfully Outnumbered

A Sign for the Times

2012-01-09T20:49:00.000-05:00

I have one resolution for this new year. I resolve to return my library books on time. I paid enough in library fines this past year to buy a new bookshelf, which I need, because we have piles of books all over our house. We love books and read lots of them but with the great abundance, we don't always finish them on time, partly because we can't always find them.

I have also sort of resolved not to resolve things but that doesn't count as a resolution because I'm not doing resolutions any more. Instead, I'm working on enjoying my life as it currently is. This year I'm looking again at who I am but the big difference lies in accepting who I am today as worthy. Worthy of effort, worthy of attention, and worth a chance.

When I'm tempted to plan ahead and make goals I'm instead trying to stop and value what is here and now. When I want to say I'm not good enough I'm trying to stop and find strength in my actions. When I take a dream to the impossible extreme I'm trying to stop and find stepping stones that lead slowly in the direction I want to go. It's not an easy outlook for me but it's worth it. Worthy of effort, worthy of attention, and worth a chance.

The thing is, I enjoy plans. I like getting my new calendar each year and writing in all the recurring data with color-coded ink. Office supplies make excellent stuffers for my stocking. The kicker comes a little down the road, however. I'm not such a big fan of keeping to the plans and then I end up feeling stressed, out-of-control, and convinced I'm a loser.

Last spring I had a similar moment, where I decided to see the chaos as a slide I willingly ride rather than a cycle I can't escape. I did quite well with my bliss for a while there. This autumn, however, I let myself get caught up in a bunch of changes and drama that happened around our family. The slide stopped being fun and again became an endless loop of pain. It's time to stop, breathe, and take in the abundance of good that each day brings.

I also need to stop and finish reading some of those books - as soon as I find them - and eek! They're due in just two days!

Genuis and Faith

2011-12-12T14:29:00.000-05:00

Over Thanksgiving we were in the Outer Banks, celebrating my dad's birthday. While there we visited the Wright Brothers Memorial.

In case you can't read it, the big word carved into stone there is GENIUS. I asked Stan to pose there and this is what I got. To me, it's perfect. Stan doesn't always relax for pictures but here he looks so comfortable and at ease. Stan is most himself when he's in the world of genius, caught up in the startlingly profound thoughts inside his head.

I have enough genius to hold my own but it's not the place where I thrive. On another corner of the memorial, there's a word that better describes the world I live in. Stan has plenty of faith on his own but of the two of us, I'm much more comfortable with psyche and spirit.

My thoughts are allegory where Stan's are algebra. I like questions and Stan likes answers. We play off each other's ideas and help each other understand. Together, we bring a fullness to life that separately we could never achieve. Together, there is hope that we may find even some small measure of the success the Wright Brothers achieved.

(If you look closely you'll see that I'm slightly uphill from Stan and on my tiptoes. 4 inch heels are helpful for good photos but just won't do for sightseeing.)

Run with the wind

2011-12-12T13:18:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving Gobbler 5k in the Outer Banks with my dad and brother. The spouses and children ran the 1 mile Giblet. Ma stayed at the beach house and cooked the turkey.

Pa stayed with me the whole time and encouraged me to run even when the Kitty Hawk winds got me down. Matthew tried to stay with me but he and his long legs felt the need for speed. We watched his bright orange shirt scoot away and wished him well. Thanks to both of them, I finished my first official race and ran my best 5k time ever.

Words to warm a mama's heart

2011-12-08T16:30:00.000-05:00

Today at our house we had one of those non-emergency situations we prepare for that don't happen very often. Monkey commented on the odd event and I said "Yes, but you did exactly what you were supposed to. Thank you." Monkey looked at me for a moment with her head cocked to the side and said "Things go better when I do what I'm supposed to." Amen, my darling, and may it be ever so.

Parenting is Serious Business

2011-12-04T07:56:00.002-05:00

Puddin': No Daddy, that's not right.
Stan: Is it ok for me to be silly?
Puddin': Yeah, but not when you're parenting.

Endurance

2011-11-17T14:34:00.002-05:00

A friend said to me recently, "Every time you stand up these days you get smacked down again." I wish that hadn't rung so true. Car issues. Kid issues. Ex-wife issues. Church issues. Just as I come to terms with one, the next issue in the cue steps forward to knock me off my feet again.

Now, to be clear, we're doing ok. Our health and finances are secure. Our family relationships are solid. There are far worse problems to have than the ones we face these days and we're incredibly grateful for the good in our lives.

Still, these are not our best days. Stan and I both want to run away (together. with no children. to somewhere warm.) but we want our children to grow up into mature, responsible adults. Therefore, we get up, dust ourselves off, and face the drama with all the compassion we can muster.

Today was a run day for me. Because of a car issue, I had to change my routine and ended up running a track rather than my usual treadmill. I pounded away the stress, lap after lap, and towards the end, an older gentleman stopped me. "You have a lot of endurance." I responded with something self-effacing and he said "you're doing great." Little did he know, but those were just the words I needed to hear.

I don't have to muddle through or run away for I am a woman of great endurance.

A Meal to Be Thankful For

2011-11-14T13:26:00.000-05:00

In church this Sunday we talked about world hunger. The speaker - Rev. Paul Montacute - is a regular member of our church who flies around the world with Baptist World Aid, trying to make a difference for folks in need. Paul ended his sermon by having the congregation snap in time. As we snapped, he reminded us that for each snap, a child somewhere in the world dies of hunger-related causes.

Monkey and Peanut stopped snapping and looked at me with horror on their faces. Sure, they've heard about this before. They're accustomed to the idea of collecting money for world hunger, or giving and sorting non-perishable foods for local distribution. They know the facts but the reality never sunk in. Suddenly, they see how big a deal it really is.

This Thanksgiving, in addition to filling up a rice bowl with the family's spare change, we want to share with Monkey and Peanut (and Puddin' as she can understand) a little more about what it feels like to be in need. Tonight we're going to have a meal where the only thing available is rice, a few lentils and a glass of clean water. This simple meal - almost fasting compared to our normal fare - would be a luxury in some parts of the world. Tomorrow morning, we get to have our fill again at breakfast but most of the world's hungry don't get that option.

This year, Stan and I want our kids to see what a blessed life they really live. Even though we don't have all the latest gadgets or coolest clothes, we have an abundance far beyond our needs. We hope that they will learn to give thanks and praise in all circumstances - in need, in want, and in abundance.

For any who are interested, here are some of the resources we're using:

Feeding Minds, Fighting Hunger has maps, facts, lesson plans, aimed at elementary kids and teenagers.
Bread For the World has articles on causes of hunger and poverty, big picture solutions, ways for individuals to get involved, and this little miracle food kids can relate to.
There are lots of ways to show what global food distribution looks like. Here's a story of how one couple shared a hunger feast.
Free Rice challenges kids to different sorts of questions and gives away grains of rice for each correct answer. A simple (brain-enriching) way for kids to take part.
The Water Project has games and lessons for kids of various ages to teach them the importance of water and how it impacts people in poverty.
And for those who like a tear-jerker, here's a page of stories from hunger-stricken areas around the world. Have your tissue box handy.

Blessings to you all. May you have happy and thankful days ahead.

Three Flamingos

2011-11-03T17:39:00.001-04:00

See them there, tall and preening
Shades of pink and rampant queening
Each her own, leading the herd.

Solve a mystery, dance on tiptoes
Make more music, chase that rainbow
Days are full for three flamingos

Halloween 2011

2011-11-02T09:52:00.000-04:00

Peanut, the prom queen. We didn't do any coaching for the photo - this is natural. Just imagine when she gets chosen in high school and finally gets her real crown! By the way: Nana, this is one of your tiaras. Peanut did her best to live up to the legacy you left for her.

Monkey, the mouse. We have a handful of photos over the years with her in similar positions. This girl loves pretending and taking on the life of something else. If she could get over her stage fright, she'd have an awesome time in theatre. She has the makings of a scene-stealing character actor.

Puddin', the pumpkin. I kept calling her my pumpkin puddin' pie and she was adamant that she is NOT a pumpkin, nor is she a pie. She is a person and she wants you to respect that. You have been warned.

Gaining Her Balance

2011-10-04T15:04:00.002-04:00

Smart and sassy
   full of drama
High emotion
   fuel the flames
Strong and tender
   full of grace
Strum the heartstrings
   spread the love
       So much potential
       So much confusion
       So many questions
       So many concerns
       So much to wonder
       So much to ponder
       So many ways it can
       all fall apart
Smiling and laughing
   full of dreams
Loved and forgiven
   embracing herself

Breaking News!! More Coffee!!

2011-09-29T11:54:00.000-04:00


Thanks to frugal-bonvivant.com for the image.

September 29th is National Coffee Day! I've seen this in exactly one source that I don't consider very reliable but it doesn't take much to get me excited about coffee. Rumor has it that there are vendors giving out free coffee but none of the ones I've heard about have very good coffee so I'm going to pass on the free stuff and pay my own way. It's patriotic, after all.

Last night hubby had a meeting and since it was likely to be a long one, I made chocolate chip cookies and iced decaf coffee for the group. Much of the coffee (and a few of the cookies) came back home so Monkey and Peanut have kid-friendly coffee at the ready, which delights them to no end. I think snack this afternoon is going to be mocha-liscious.

Drink up my dears! and have a happy mental health day.

Coffee = Happiness

2011-09-27T11:39:00.000-04:00

I don't know if you've heard the news but there's a new study out which found that women who drink coffee are less depressed. Basically, daily is better than weekly, and more is better than less.

There are the usual caveats - the findings are correlative instead of causitive, the study may not generalize well to a normal population, addictive substance, etc. - but from this corner of the world I'd say they're spot on. At our house, a caffeinated Mama is a happy Mama.

So, on this drizzly day of gotta-dos, take a moment to raise a mug to your mental health. Salud!

The Nearness of You

2011-09-23T13:14:00.002-04:00

Puddin' sings random songs all day long. Sometimes the songs narrate her day but more often, they are words and sounds strung together in nonsense phrases. Today, in the midst of one of these songs, Puddin' sang the line "it's all ok and I know you love me even when you're not here" and then morphed back into the Dali-esque lyrics she's known for. I took a moment to soak that one in. She knows that she is loved, regardless of whether or not the people offering that love are tangibly present.

Folks often marvel at how well Puddin' expresses herself. Stan and I marvel at how self-aware she is. This tiny person has grasped the concept that love doesn't require physical nearness and has learned enough words to put that deep thought into words that clearly express it. And then she put it to music. I hope to God that she can keep these realizations as she grows.

Then, of course, she starts into something like "that chocolate comes from cows. I only like chocolate that comes from cows," and sets me off on a totally different sort of marveling.

Grandfather Moutain

2011-09-14T21:44:00.000-04:00

Our mountain get-away this year was to Grandfather Mountain. We drove most of the way up but did a short hike to the top. The big news is, Puddin' climbed it herself. She needed a little bit of help climbing up rocks half her height but other than that she was a total trooper. Peanut was thrilled to be out and moving so she zoomed ahead repeatedly. Peanut often feels the need to blaze the trail and this was even more true out there on an actual trail. Monkey had a harder time getting engaged but eventually found her groove, looking at rocks.

The other big news is that all three girls climbed the swinging bridge (suspension bridge a mile above sea level, connecting two peaks on the mountain) without a moment's hesitation. I, however, was a wuss. I had horrible images of traumatically losing my family and froze. I think that I could have done it if I were on my own but not with my darlings there, which I pondered fruitlessly while I waited. How can I love the mountains so but have such strong reactions to the height? Is this new since motherhood or did I repress earlier fears out of foolish pride? Maybe some day I'll understand. While I mused, I could see the crew because of Peanut's bright pink shirt. Sitting on the safe side while they climbed very close to the edge was terror-inducing but I passed the time by taking pictures for other families that were just as cowardly as me.

Eventually they came wandering back to me and we all moved along. The little hike down was a bit tougher on Puddin' but she still insisted on doing it all herself. We convinced her to accept a little hand holding and all was well. I find it amazing what small ones will do when we give them the chance. Hopefully I'll remember that tomorrow when they're each asking for something to do.

In addition to hiking we also stopped to see the animal habitats. The group that runs the mountain has zoo-like enclosures for local wildlife so that visitors can get acquainted with Blue Ridge natives. The bears were impressive but shy. The deer are a pretty common sight, even in our suburban world. The cougar wouldn't come out to play. The otters, however, were charming. Each of the girls came away with an appreciation of otters and a desire to play with them. Many years ago, my father put a copy of Ring of Bright Water in front of me and I've longed to have otters friends ever since. I hope my daughters will stay interested long enough to read the book with me sometime soon.

Our final stop on the mountain was the fudge shop. The glee was immense, and so was the pile of fudge we carried out of there. Each of us chose a flavor to share and we gorged ourselves on a fudge buffet for the next few days. In case you stop by: the dark chocolate fudge is deceptively simple, and elegantly tasty. Deep, rich chocolate that slowly seeps into the taste buds. Scrumptious.

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. We arrived at our hotel after bedtime but still decided to indulge in quick late-night family swim. Monkey and Peanut were amazed at the heart shaped jacuzzi tub in the middle of the room. We almost let them use it but ran out of time the next morning. That would have been quite the picture, though. Too bad we couldn't make it work.

We arrived at camp just in time and both Monkey and Peanut went running off to greet their friends, which is just as it should be, but for 24 hours they were ours. These moments are becoming more rare so they are also increasingly valuable. All 5 of us, bound together with love and nature.

Soundtrack of a Meltdown

2011-08-16T21:40:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week I had a meltdown. The kids were each whining, ignoring, disobeying, or something of that ilk - all at the same time - and it was just too much. I put myself in timeout, pounded my pillows, stomped on the floor, whisper screamed all the things I'm not supposed to actually say, then wiped my tears and went to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

I sat in my favorite chair just long enough to drink my tea and, while there, listened to my ipod on shuffle. My ipod must have been eavesdropping on my afternoon because the next five songs were each in their own way a perfect accompaniment to the emotional angst of my moment. Here is the soundtrack of my meltdown:

"Not Pretty Enough" by Kasey Chambers
Am I not pretty enough
Is my heart to broken
Do I cry too much
Am I too outspoken
Don't I make you laugh
Should I try it harder
Why do you see right through me

I live, I breathe, I let it rain on me
I sleep, I wake, I try hard not to break
I crave, I love, I've waited long enough
I try as hard as I can

"Time After Time" by Eva Cassidy
Sometimes you picture me--
I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear
What you've said--
Then you say--go slow--
I fall behind--
The second hand unwinds

If you're lost you can look--and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you--I'll be waiting
Time after time

"Once You've Loved Somebody" by The Dixie Chicks
I should go out tonight
Get on with my life
Break these chains of solitude
With a little luck and a little help
I might even find myself
In the arms of someone new

Once you've loved somebody
It ain't that easy to do
Once you've loved somebody
Like I loved you

"Down In Flames" by Mindy Smith
I would tell you I am happy
If I wasn't so damn sad
And the loneliness both overwhelms and keeps me empty
That's how it's been for a while

And life's so hard
It's the little things that seem to be getting me today, yeah
Life's so hard
But I'm doing what I can to not to be getting down
I'm going down in flames
Going down in flames

I need some direction
I need someone to listen
Someone to tell me that they know

"What it Means to Love" by Meredith Andrews
How could I forget Your face
When all it took was just one day
For me to see it wasn't ordinary
I could never be the same

You took my hand and led the way
I didn't even know Your name
But something happened deep inside me
And I knew life would have to change

So how could I go back to life as usual
And how could I return to who I once was
I just want to take your story to the world
‘Cause you have shown me what it means to love

You healed the sick, You calmed the sea
But Your heart was for the least of these
You came to love the lost and broken
Your cross has set the captive free

Now I no longer live for myself
Your words are so clear
Help me live it loud enough so they can hear

In the space of five songs, I wondered what I had done wrong, and how I could be better; I marveled at the misty changes from the beautiful love we used to share; I contemplated leaving them; I wallowed in the pain and sadness; and then I remembered the love that empowers me to get up from my comfy chair and cook the little rugrats dinner. We were all just fine from that point on. Thank God for grace, tea, and good music.

Sweater in a heat wave

2011-07-23T11:33:00.001-04:00

Heady perfume of pee and sweat. Walking, wandering, shifting, moving. Rock pillows, bench slat beds. Nothing for blankets but whatever you own. Sweater in a heatwave, fully dressed in August so no one steals your life while you nap. Scrap dinners and hand out snacks. Longing for fruit but getting starbursts. Eventually the longing ends. Constipation, coughs, cancor sores, callouses. No conversation, no touching. Skin longs for skin, mind longs for mind. Only yourself to depend on until you finally give up. Fear of people - will he molest me? Will she snub me? Will they lock me up? Life survived but not lived. Tomorrow can't be better but can easily be worse.

Middle Sister Rebel Red

2011-07-19T11:34:00.001-04:00

Rebel Red
Middle Sister Wines
Santa Rosa, California
$8

Every once in a while I feel the need to be rebellious. Well, truth be told, it's more than every once in a while but that's another story. I was having one of those moments in a place where having a glass of wine is looked on as sin of the highest degree. I saw this bottle and decided it was meant to be.

The wine wasn't great but was all that I needed it to be for the evening. The first sip was harsh but after about 10 minutes in the glass it mellowed a bit. The blend is zinfandel, merlot & cabernet sauvignon so it's never going to get all the way to mellow. For mealtime it would probably need to be matched with pizza or BBQ. In my opinion it has more value as an evening sipper, closing out the day with murderous tv.

So bottom line: it's just fine. The label will entertain but the wine won't impress. It's possible, though, you'll end the night in artist's black or motorcycle leather. Rebel on, my friends.

Playing Favorites

2011-07-13T14:32:00.000-04:00

I don't have favorites. No favorite color, food, song, nothing. I even found myself saying one day that my husband was "one of my favorites" because I have so conditioned myself not to have favorites.

I get asked about favorites fairly often and often struggle to defend my lack of answer. It's not that I don't care, I promise. I'm not apathetic to life. I care deeply about the world around me. I want lots of color, lots of food, lots of song, everything. I just don't want to be fenced in. I refuse to choose and thereby let go of the chance to have all the others. If I choose a favorite color does that mean that folks will bring me only that color? If I have a favorite food does that mean I have to have that for every occasion? I don't want to miss out on any of the goodness life has to offer.

Today I'm wondering, though: am I too open-minded? I'm a musician but I don't have a favorite kind of music. I can play bits of different kinds of music but there's not much I do exceptionally well. I like to write but I dabble with visual arts as well. Like an un-cropped photo, I try to fit in everything. Would my artistic endeavors have more substance if I were willing to cut some things out?

I used to think that jack-of-all-trades was a good thing, until I learned the rest of the phrase: master of none. I'm no longer satisfied with the jack's freedom to dabble; I'm ready for mastery. To that end, I'm going to go on record here - on the internet that never forgets anything - to name a few favorites.

My favorite music is jazz.
My favorite foods come from Latin America
My favorite color is yellow. And orange. Wait, can I have green too?

This might take a while. I'm working on it though, because I'm no jack.

Path of Bliss

2011-07-09T06:11:00.002-04:00

"The more altruism we develop in a day, the more peaceful we find ourselves. Similarly, the more self-centered we remain, the more frustrations and trouble we encounter."
Dalai Lama, from Path of Bliss
I'm testing blogging from my phone today. There are quite a few things to ponder in that statement alone but I also stumbled upon this quote, which I've been meaning to ruminate on. Sitting in a peaceful spot with my coffee, I've decided to test the quote. Will the children - not to mention the general public - cooperate?

This is what happy feet look like.

2011-06-30T13:43:00.000-04:00

Thou Shalt Not Be Bored

2011-06-07T15:30:00.001-04:00

Recently we got a notice about a parenting seminar at the elementary school. "What to do with your kids this summer." I figure we're pros by now and there's no reason to waste an evening. Stan urged and almost insisted. Stan was right. I went to the seminar and came home with more ideas than I could possibly use in a summer. It doesn't seem fair to hoard them all so here's a smattering to share with brothers and sisters-in-arms.

Pie made from farmer's market cherries

Kitchen:

bake and decorate a cake
kids plan family meal and create shopping list
have a tea party
have kids pick foods to try at the farmer's market and plan a meal around what you bring home

Outside:

watch the sun rise
sit on the porch or by a window and watch a storm
go star-gazing
paint letters, words, and numbers with water and a paint brush
use crayons and paper to make rubbings of tree bark patterns

Science experiment from last year. We love goop.

Science:

gather a pile of objects and have kids guess which will sink and which will float
use ribbon, bubbles, kites to see which way the wind is blowing
find sources of iron in the house using magnets. Do different magnets behave differently?
make goop with corn starch, water, and food coloring
try to sprout new growth from "garbage" food (carrot tops, potato eyes)

Math:

take timed walks around the block. Practice telling time as you race to beat your family time.
have kids throw a ball and then measure how far it went. How does that compare to the next throw?
have child pick up 1+2+3+4 things in his/her room
have child add up all the change in your pocket or purse

Service:

bake for a family friend
offer to help a neighbor with simple yard work
write letters to elderly in church congregation or in a nursing home
pick up litter in the neighborhood

Color experiments

Creativity:

make cards and send them
give kids a list of words and have them write a story using as many as possible
write a song together
have child draw on paper with a white candle then paint over it with watercolors
study the work of one artist and see if children can imitate the style
place 1 or 2 drops of food coloring on opposite sides of a bowl of milk. stand back and watch them swirl. (this moves to science if you talk with the kids about why it works that way.)

Active:

garden
observation walks
create an indoor bowling alley with empty coke bottles and a rubber ball
hide a treasure, make a map, and send them on their way.

This is our dentist's office.

Imagination:

have child choose 4 to 5 pictures and then number them. The child tells a story using each of the pictures.
take an imaginary space trip with your child
visit ethnic shops, food stores, and restaurants. Look at maps to plan your trip, and use books to set the stage before you go and review the culture afterwards.
camp out in the living room. tell stories by flashlight.

Processing Summer:

make a poster or scrapbook from ticket stubs, program notes, etc as the summer goes on
keep a journal with drawings and thoughts from each day or each outing
use a large calendar to write messages, weather reports, or notes on activities

I hope these ideas help you and your children (not to mention me and mine) have blissful summer fun. Just a reminder, the vast majority of these ideas are not my own but came from a swath of parenting resources. I wish I could credit the creators but like much parenting brilliance, these ideas came without bylines.

Error Codes

2011-05-15T20:06:00.140-04:00

Blogger (blogspot) has not been functioning terribly well this week. There was some update that went badly and then they had to restore to a previous state. Most of this has been fixed but somewhere in the midst of it, my blogger profile is tainted. I finally figured out how to get into editing and posting through a few sneaky tricks but if I try the official method I end up with a variety of error codes. This got me thinking ... what if there were error codes parenting?

ERROR_ARENA_TRASHED
There are too many toys in this room.

ERROR_BAD_ENVIRONMENT
Someone is cleaning your room today. Who will it be?

ERROR_TOO_MANY_THREADS
There are 17 dirty pairs of underwear under your dresser.

ERROR_CHILD_NOT_COMPLETE
Homework must be complete before dancing naked down the hall.

ERROR_ARITHMETIC_OVERFLOW
Each child is responsible for her own homework.

ERROR_WAIT_NO_CHILDREN
Tell a parent where you are going before you leave.

ERROR_NESTING_NOT_ALLOWED
Worms stay in the dirt - the outside dirt.

ERROR_NO_VOLUME_LABEL
Spiders are not grounds for shrieking.

ERROR_SHARING_VIOLATION
Do not steal the preschooler's toys.

RPC_S_PROXY_ACCESS_DENIED
Proper identification required for Mama's 4-inch heels.

ERROR_DEVICE_DOOR_OPEN
Close the fridge. Close it. Really. Close the fridge NOW!

ERROR_NOT_ENOUGH_QUOTA
Eat your vegetables.

ERROR_BAD_FUNCTION_TABLE
You left dishes on dinner table for someone else to clean up.

ERROR_VIRUS_INFECTED
Washing hands after potty is not optional.

ERROR_ILLEGAL_FLOAT_CONTEXT
Flush the potty.

ERROR_ATOMIC_LOCKS_NOT_SUPPORTED
Your hair is still full of shampoo bubbles.

ERROR_NETWORK_BUSY
Stop interrupting my sentence.

ERROR_EXTRANEOUS_INFORMATION
I don't need to know what color shoes your teacher wore today.

ERROR_BAD_ARGUMENTS
Don't make me settle this. You don't like my solutions.

WAIT_TIMEOUT
Next time settle the argument for yourselves.

ERROR_FAIL_SHUTDOWN
Go back to bed and stay there this time.

ERROR_NO_INHERITANCE
Just you wait.

That should get me started. What error messages would you like to see for your daily life?

From the mouth of preschoolers

2011-05-09T12:59:00.001-04:00

Puddin's song of the moment: "A big daddy and a short mama."

I have no idea what the rest of the lyrics are since she went to mumbles and hums after that. It must be a work in progress. I also have no idea what prompted the song at this particular time. I know that she does speak truth, however. Notice in the picture here that my feet are barely touching the ground and yet Stan's knees are bent past 90˚.

On a different note, Stan and I should have our picture taken together more often. I had to go back to last summer to find anything with both of us in it that didn't center around children. Seeing this, I'm longing for summer and vacation and time to enjoy life with my darling dear. The busyness of spring is wearing me out.

World Cocktail Week: 2011

2011-05-06T22:09:00.035-04:00

I often think that it would be lovey and sophisticated to have a cocktail but then I look at a recipe, look at a wine bottle, and just can't pull myself together for the increased effort. Plus, I really do love wine a whole lot.

Once a year, though, Stan and I branch out. Somewhere along the way, someone decided that May 6-13 would be World Cocktail Week. [click here for the when/where/why] For this week each year, Stan and I set aside the wine and have a different cocktail each night after the kids go to bed.

Thursday, May 5: The week hasn't officially started but Stan and I decided to warm up (and give a shout to Cinco de Mayo) with a South of the Border (Tequila, Kahlua, Lime.)
     The recipe said to rim the glass with a 50/50 brown to white sugar mix. Huh? That really shouldn't be necessary so we skipped that step. Since I don't like the super sweet stuff and adore the tart of lime, the decision worked well for me. Stan's sweet tooth balked at the pucker, though, so next time [which might end up being next year] we'll make that extra effort.

Friday, May 6: The official start. Gin Fizz (Gin, simple syrup, lemon, club soda.)
     I don't know how I've managed to not have this before. Gin is my favorite spirit. Citrus is my favorite flavor. Bubbly is my favorite water. This drink was tailor-made for me but somehow I've missed it all these years. Gin Fizz was a slam dunk, except that we weren't sitting on the deck of the cruise ship but instead in our living room after dark. Cool, refreshing, light, and a small enough amount of alcohol that I could still drive the speed boat if I needed to. (and if I had one.)

Saturday, May 7: Stan started installing our new microwave as a Mother's Day present. There were far more difficulties than expected and he included Monkey & Peanut as junior electricians. Finally, an hour past kid bedtime, they hit a hurdle that couldn't be jumped that night and called it quits - with the new microwave still on the floor. After all that work (while I played math games on my phone) Stan made a grocery run to buy me flowers. For all that and more, the drink of the day was Stan-centric. Mud Slide (vodka, Kahlua, Bailey's, cream) but not the frozen kind, which would have required cleaning the kitchen a little bit.

Sunday, May 8: We had a big family shabang for Mother's Day and I'm pretty much always in charge of bringing the drinks. We packed up a mini-bar and hit the road. (Many thanks to Pa who helped out with all the stuff I forgot - namely the equipment. I didn't forget any ingredients but didn't take a lick of bar ware. The three choices of the day were Daquiri (light rum, lime, simple syrup,) Parisian Blonde (dark rum, triple sec, cream,) and XYZ (light rum, triple sec, lemon.) The Daquiri (classic, not frozen) was the big hit of the night. The second batch we made used a light/dark rum mix and a lemon/lime mix. It went over quite well but we're not sure if it was the actual ingredients or the accumulation of them. It has been suggested that Parisian Blonde would be better with chocolate ice cream instead of the half & half we used. Also, by the time we got around to making the XYZs we were out of light rum and had to use dark instead. This turned out just fine but would probably be more lovely in the lighter version.

Remember the part at the top where I mentioned that hard work of cocktails vs. the ease of wine? Three drink choices, 6 adults, lots of juicing. It was worth it: we enjoyed tasting and experimenting, which is what this week is about for Stan & me. Next get-together we're going back to wine though.

Monday, May 9: Kamikaze (Vodka, Triple Sec, lime, simple syrup.)
    It's like a margarita with vodka. Nice refreshing drink to finish off a day that wasn't refreshing on it's own. Kid drama melted away as I sloshed gently into relaxation. Note to self: light dinner and then cocktails doesn't work so well. And that was with the toned down version of the recipe.

Tuesday, May 10: Maiden's Prayer (Gin, Triple Sec, Lemon Juice.)
    I came home from Bible study and Stan met me at the door with this suggestion. I love the simple play on events here. I don't think Stan did it on purpose but maybe we should give him credit anyway. We had to substitute lime juice since we'd run out of lemons. Don't know if you noticed but so far this week only two of the eight drinks haven't requited lemon or lime. Citrus pleases me greatly. This week has been hard on our citrus stash - although we're flush in grapefruit right now. Not too many drinks calling for grapefruit, which is a shame, if you ask me. Anyway, the drink was a little more bracing than a maiden might want with lime but would be lovely and subtle in the lemony version called for.

Wednesday, May 11: White Russian (vodka, Kahluà, milk.)
     This is a go-to drink for Stan so it's sort of cheating when we're supposed to be exploring. We had a lot going on with a school activity so we went simple for this night.

Thursday, May 12: Sea Breeze (vodka, cranberry juice, grapefruit juice.)
     We finally found a way to use our grapefruits! This one is light and breezy (go figure,) the kind of drink I could easily drink too much of accidentally.

Friday, May 13: Grand 'O (Grand Marnier, orange juice, soda water, lemon juice and a strawberry garnish.)
     I wanted to finish the week with a bang- something totally new and unheard of in our house. I noticed we had plenty of Grand Marnier so I checked their site and found this recommendation (among many other tasty-looking options.) The lemon and orange blend nicely with the Grand Marnier so make a rich, tangy treat.

On Saturday night, Stan and I had a date and I jumped at the chance to go to a wine bar for dinner. The adventure of cocktail week is great fun - and we'll probably play along again next year - but it's good to be back in the grape.

Sliding Through

2011-05-02T22:29:00.000-04:00

Lately I've felt like I'm falling. I haven't been able to piece together enough time to get all the good or important stuff done. I keep thinking there's just one more busy week to get through but then another appears.

Last night I felt the weight of 20 years on me - as in, we're going to be having these same struggles almost daily for the next 20 years. What an utterly depressing thought. 20 more years of flailing as I fall into the abyss, waiting for solid ground.

But tonight a different thought occurred to me: what if it's not falling but sliding? What if the spasms of terror, the pitted stomachs and the sloshy perspective are all just part of the joy in the ride? As we give in to gravity and the laws of physics we find ourselves on a ride that brings excitement. As I give in to the laws of human nature and accept the relationships around me, I find myself on a ride that brings unexplainable pleasure.

Like going down a slide, I willingly put myself into the position of fear and anxiety again for the rush that comes with momentum. And like the slide, I know that I'll soon enough hit solid ground - and climb right back up the ladder to do it all again.

Bundled in Boston

2011-04-25T10:11:00.000-04:00

Last weekend our family trekked to Boston to watch our friend run the marathon. I spent many Patriot's days watching and cheering during my years in Beantown and it was great fun to share the experience with my family.

We stayed with our dear friend Brie, who should win a Hostess of the Year prize in addition to her many accolades as an all around fabulous person. She even taught Monkey & Peanut how to crochet. Thanks Brie!

We found a great spot to cheer the runners on, not long after Heartbreak Hill. Monkey & Puddin' were reluctant at first but with a little coaching got into the spirit of it. They enjoyed being loud but even more so, they enjoyed seeing the difference their cheering made on the runners.

Puddin' had a harder time. She was overwhelmed by the noise and commotion. She reluctantly cheered a little for this picture but mostly just wanted to be held, sheltered from the masses around her. This week, however, she's reliving some of those moments. Puddin' started a marathon game where we take turns running and cheering each other on.

Here's our friend Bob, in the lime green shirt. Wahoooo!

After a yummy late lunch (scrumptious Thai from Brown Sugar Cafe) we headed over to Harvard Square for treats. Peet's coffee for me, Burdicks chocolate for the rest. Here's Stan checking out the menu with Puddin' and Monkey. They all thoroughly enjoyed their choices, and I'm still basking in the coffee glory with Garuda blend that Brie sent home.

With the whole gang in tow, I didn't get the chance to visit with as many friends as I would have liked. But I'm very grateful for the time I did have. Thanks especially to Jess, John & Sophia for changing your schedule to come have dinner with us. I got to have one of my favorite dishes with one of my favorite people.

Thanks also to Misch and Tara for letting me crash the baby shower. It was great to celebrate with you and be part of the baby phases in your lives.

We did a family photo shoot at the BU beach, the largest plot of grass on my alma mater. (although, BU wasn't very nourishing for me so the title must be said with tongue planted in cheek.) I love how the kids personalities show up in each photo.

A big thanks to Bill, who helped Bob, his family, and a few runner friends find a fabulous and cheap place to stay for the weekend. Bill, who already had a place in my heart, took wonderful care of my friends and went out of his way to be generous to people he had never met. This guy is a testament to the love and grace of God and I'm blessed to know him.

Taking Monkey & Peanut was a last minute change to our plans but I'm so glad it turned out that way. We had a great time sight-seeing, eating, cheering, and riding the T. I'm so grateful to the friends who helped me share my former city with my family. And I'm grateful to Stan for tolerating the cold & drizzle: next vacation will be warm, I promise.

Circles of Influence

2011-04-23T20:59:00.000-04:00

This week has been spring break at our house. We got back from a road trip to Boston and the next day the kids were a little at a loss without masses of extra stimulation. At the first complaint I sent Monkey outside with a list of things to find: different species of birds, trees, mammals, & flowers. Peanut hurriedly grabbed a clipboard and went to join her sister. Together they marched around the yard and then up and down our street. They came back with pictures and written descriptions of all they had seen.

Before they could switch modes I handed them a large beaded necklace and told them to spread it out as a circle somewhere in the yard. Their assignment, after Monkey calculated the area, was to list all forms of life they found within their circle. Puddin' just HAD to have a circle too so they all ran off with their magnifying glasses to work on their assignment together.

Later I mentioned something to Monkey about science time and it took her a few moments to figure out what I was talking about. It seems the kids consider this kind of thing completely normal, which this nerdy mama finds wonderfully comforting.

Wet Panty Blues

2011-03-28T14:24:00.000-04:00

Potting training has exposed my severe lack of patience. I get disproportionately upset to the mishaps and dirty panties. Why, oh why can't Puddin' just go to the potty? She knows what to do, has all the necessary skills, but won't deliver. She does not want to.

This morning she stood talking to me then squatted and waddled to the bathroom. She called over her shoulder as she penguined away - "Mama, will you go get me new pants please?" grr. I told her I was sad. I told her I was angry. I told her we might have to go back to diapers. In short, I did everything the experts say not to do. My anger and frustration leads her to feel anxiety, which increases her reluctance to try using the potty. Vicious cycle, which adds to the nasty laundry cycle we've already got going. grrr.

The thing is, I know part of the reason she had an accident this morning is that she had a crazy weekend with little downtime and not enough sleep. I also know that most of the reason I'm easily angered today is a crazy weekend with little creative time and not enough sleep. sigh.

I put Puddin' down for a nap and grumpily went to find some indoor cardio options. Did you know that on some websites there's a cardio entry for playing an instrument? Seriously? Squats and push-ups don't count but playing my guitar does? If you play tuba in marching band you totally deserve cardio points but that can't be what they mean because marching band has it's own entry. It's a mad, mad fitness world.

Obviously I chose playing an instrument. It doesn't give me a whole lot of calories burned but the mental health benefits are incalculable. I've practiced and I am a healthier person for it. Bring on the wet panties - I can take it.

(I also did some footloose-style dancing with hand weights but let's just keep that between us.)

Not My Job

2011-03-25T07:54:00.000-04:00

As a stay-at-home, my job description is fuzzy at best. My husband cooks a little on weekends but for the most part it's my job. Homework time is my domain. Instrument practice, ferrying to lessons - mostly me. Feeding the preschool mind - me. I know that cleaning is my job but I rarely get to that one. Laundry - my life sentence.

In the midst of this I'm also volunteering, practicing my own arts, keeping up with world events, and trying to get myself healthy. I never get to it all in one day but in a good week I hit all the marks at least once. Balance is elusive: I bounce briskly from one activity to the next, all the while wishing I could float gently instead. Just as I find myself holding steady, something comes along to knock me off my beam. Tonight was one of those nights.

Peanut is a bright enough child that she was placed in an accelerated program this year. She's never had to work hard before so this year has been a shock. She's a dramatic child with a history of histrionics. When she feels her world is off-kilter, she flips out. My job is to right her keel and get her sailing smoothly again. I have my own dramatic tendencies so I've got to be in a good state when working with her. I calm myself. Together we calm her. We talk through the hard emotions and help her understand her world. We look at the problem she's facing and find strategies to solve. Finally, she can go back to her homework - hopefully without anymore meltdowns. It's been getting better lately, though. I thought we were through the worst of it.

Today, we had another messy fit. Turns out her teacher gave her math homework that she had no concept how to do. We looked through the math journal for evidence that the work had been taught at some point but no. Instead we found months worth of incomplete and incorrect school work. This journal is supposed to live at school so we never see it. It's astoundingly bad. Our little math genius does not have a clue what she's supposed to do with this journal. It's a mess of scribbled notes and badly glued worksheets. Our curious kid who loves to learn is now convinced that she's not good enough. Bad teaching has killed her curiosity.

So now, in addition to the bathrooms that need to be scrubbed and the mounds of laundry I could lose my preschooler in, I have a new title: I am now a math teacher. To be fair, I do have a degree in education, with a significant chunk focused on teaching math. And my brilliant physicist hubby will play an admirable role as co-teacher, but he has to go earn our money so there's only so much teaching time for him. Peanut is going to be ok. She's got parents who love her and who have the skills to make up for the appalling teaching her school has provided. The point is, it's not my job. If this is the way it has to be, the school could at least do a little laundry for me. It's only fair.

Notes on Springtime

2011-03-04T22:34:00.000-05:00

I dropped off a bill at the post office and suddenly an urgent voice came from the back seat.

"Can we go home and get my notes to put in the box?"
"What notes, smoochy?"
"The ones I have."

Puddin' insisted she had notes that must be mailed immediately. I convinced her that we could wait a little while to post her notes - especially if she went home and made some more. Puddin' instantly agreed and decided she would make a "lellow" note for Grandmama with flowers, pretty yellow flowers from her garden. (The nearly 3 year-old remembers planting in her grandmother's garden just once almost a year ago.)

We gathered pretty paper scraps, glue, stamps, ink and set to work. Puddin' glued & stamped, colored & sorted until she ran out of stuff. By the end I had a proud Puddin' and a plethora of springy, flowery notes to brighten the days of a few of her people. Making them was the pick-me-up I needed this cold & dreary week. Spring is indeed coming. It's only a matter of time.

Happy Spring! Love, Puddin' (& Mama)

Faux Spring

2011-02-16T22:15:00.000-05:00

As of today, there is no snow in our yard. We were the last yard on the street with a pile and finally it's gone. As the girls and I walked up to the house returning from school, I kicked the last little bit around and muttered "Take that winter." Monkey in particular thought that was just too funny.

Puddin' and I went with double layers but no coat today. It wasn't really warm enough but I'm aching for sun and bare toes. This week we'll have temperatures near 70º with bright sunshine. I'm pretty sure there's a picnic in my near future. Let's just hope winter doesn't get mad at me for my mutterings and come back to wallop me.

First Blush

2011-01-31T17:11:00.000-05:00

Monkey & Peanut have shown curiosity over the years over what wine is and how it's experienced. They've been able to look and sniff but obviously, they can't drink. We've found a way to do "wine" tasting with the kids. These fabulous juices are 100% varietal so the kids can taste what cabernet sauvignon, merlot, syrah, and chardonnay taste like.

Monkey - who is a lover of all things sweet - says these are too much for her. She's tried them diluted and likes it better that way. Next she's going to try diluting with seltzer water, which should give a slight tart to battle the syrupy sweet.

Peanut likes them but doesn't discern a lot of difference at this point. She does enjoy drinking what the grown-ups drink and will match her juice choice to our wine choice whenever possible.

Puddin' likes the colors of the bottles. Yellow is her favorite.

I drink cheap wine.

2011-01-29T21:50:00.000-05:00

One of the things I set out to do when I started this blog was to keep up skills useful for the wine world. While I've certainly been drinking, I haven't blogged about wine in a long time. Somehow taking the time to think deeply about it was too much work.

Part of the problem is my wine budget. When I left the world of frequent freebies I was faced with two choices: drink much less frequently or buy cheap bottles. That was an easy decision to make. Wine with dinner makes the "stop talking with your mouth full" comments seem much more genteel and sophisticated. The cheap easy drinking stuff we have most nights is quite enjoyable as a grown-up moment after the kids are in bed. It's rare that I find one to get super excited about, though. I know what fabulous wine tastes like and this isn't it.

As a former wine professional, it's hard to admit that I'm drinking sub par wine. It's like a literature professor reading a trashy romance novel; or a physicist attributing static electricity to magic; or an Oscar winner wearing K-Mart flip-flops on the red carpet. These things just aren't done. The reality is, I was never at that level in the wine world. I hung around knowledgeable people and gathered the tidbits I could from them but since I was usually distracted by things like handsome physicists or raising the darlings I didn't put in the kind of effort needed to be a genuine wine snob. Maybe one day I'll go back to it and get the training & experience I need. Until then, I'll just keep the bar as high as I can without dipping into the college funds.

For the record, I'm currently enjoying Edna Valley Cabernet. (2008, I think.) It's a pretty familiar brand, which wouldn't usually be my first choice, but it's reliable and I found it at a fabulous price. [Bargain hunting and wine together. While wearing cute shoes.] When I poured the first glass I took a moment to sniff and it was heavenly. For one brief moment I believed I was back in the tasting room and was ready to be stunned. In reality, the taste isn't quite as heady as the aroma. There's plenty of cherry and chocolate, with leathery tannin but there isn't much after taste so I don't feel like I'm getting the full bang for my buck. I want more. I want a little more depth to the flavor, and maybe some changeability as the wine works it's way through my mouth. Still, this glass is an enjoyable way to end my day. I hope you, too, have found a tasty way to wash the stresses away.

Post 101

2011-01-26T15:16:00.000-05:00

In my couch-ridden flurry of words yesterday I managed to get up to 100 blog posts. I like marking milestones so here I sit, writing post #101

In the academic world, 101 signifies the basics or an introduction. Writers and publishers often use 101 as a seemingly random number meaning a lot. [101 Uses for Cow Manure; 101 Ways to Save the Astroturf; 101 Questions to Ask Your Future In-Laws.] Of course, I'm also required by marital vows to know that 101 = 5 in binary.

5, as a discussion topic, isn't going to get me very far. [Unless you want to hear about my upcoming birthday - on the 5th of a winter month. I'm a big fan but am honest enough to admit that most of the rest of the world doesn't care.] I don't want to spend time coming up with 101 examples of anything so that idea is right out. I guess that leaves me with the back-to-basics idea.

I went back and re-read some early posts to remind myself why I set out to blog in the first place. Here's how I described myself in my very first post: I'm introverted, quiet, serious. I am independent. I crave solitary contemplation and study. I'm also married with two gorgeous step-daughters, a precocious toddler, a dog and a cat. I'm outnumbered....My reason for writing is simply to stake my claim, to stand my ground, to try to keep my sense of self and my sanity in the midst of loving these voracious minds and hearts. I love my family and I love my life. Mama just needs a little space.

A year and a half later, many of those needs are still the same. There doesn't seem to be a whole lot of sanity to spare but I'm grateful for my little space away from the high volume of life. Thanks for coming to visit me here. And if you find any spare serenity feel free to send some my way.

Food Matters

2011-01-25T19:26:00.000-05:00

Stan and I are often on the lookout for kids-eat-free deals. We're also on the lookout for kids meals that offer balanced nutrition and good portions. These two things do not often match up but we recently found a standout example.

Food Matters is an unassuming little spot in a mostly residential area. I thought for sure our GPS was steering us to the wrong spot. When we pulled up I was pretty sure we'd found the corner bar. We forged on, though, and were rewarded with some great food.

I had a Turkey Cranberry Wrap with roasted root vegetables and Stan had an Angus Beef Burger on Brioche with another one of the fabulous sides (which I can't remember.) The big surprise was with the kids meals. None of the options for main course or side were fried. Main courses were simple enough to be kid friendly but have flavor profiles that I wouldn't mind consuming. The kids had just as many green and orange veggie options as the adults did. Of course, Peanut still chose all white carbohydrates so it's not fool proof. Monkey, on the other hand, chose sauteed spinach and scarfed it down with gusto. They were both delighted with their food and enjoyed having wider options.

The one downside was the TV prominently displayed in the dining area. Our kids couldn't keep their eyes off the screen. We talked to the management and they are apparently in the process of fixing the problem, moving the screen over to the bar area.

For the record, my other go-to for healthy kid meals is IHOP of all places. They've made some great changes to the way they do food so that there are plenty of options for low calorie kid meals.

Nerd Chic

2011-01-25T12:56:00.000-05:00

I've tried to write up a catchy story to go along with this picture but nothing I've come up with can compare to the fabulousness of Puddin' rockin' her nerd chic. Therefore, please enjoy and feel free to add your own stories in the comments.

11 Things for 2011

2011-01-25T12:28:00.000-05:00

Puddin' and I have been fighting a cold for a few weeks and since neither of us have been very good about sitting still and resting, we're both still struggling with the nasty cough. We got through Peanut's birthday yesterday (Happy birthday my dear!) and her humongo nutrition project is almost done. I've got to rest up quick so I can get to work planning her Mystery Mansion birthday party coming up soon.

So, since I'm confined to the couch for the day, I'm spending WAY too much time online. I can finally get to that New Year's post I've been meaning to write.

I don't do standard New Year resolutions. I don't like putting that kind of pressure on myself. I do enjoy pondering and planning though. A new year gives me a good excuse for reflecting and setting some goals. Here are some things Stan and I would like in the coming year:

1. Play more games as a family
2. Let the kids get messy with crafts
3. Share my passions with the family
4. Incorporate scripture into our daily lives
5. Practice music more often
6. Laugh more when the kids are around
7. Be creative daily
8. Read the pile of parenting books by my bed
9. Get out and hike
10. Give the kids more one-on-one time
11. Let the kids make their own mistakes

Evidence of Listening

2011-01-25T11:05:00.002-05:00

Puddin' is playing with a bright blue stuffed "marshmallow" Peep. She put the poor dear in time-out for some unknown infraction. When she finally took him out she said in her sweetest voice "Even though I'm mad at you I still love you." I think she may have actually listened during our don't-pee-in-your-pants conversation this morning.

Then she proceeded to repeatedly throw Peepy-Peep on the floor. Maybe I don't want to take credit after all.

The Big Green Tofer

2011-01-20T17:01:00.000-05:00

I've been wondering when Puddin' would cease to be a toddler and move on to the preschool category. She loves letters and numbers but that's fairly normal for the age (2 months shy of 3.) She enjoys "reading" stories to us more than having them read. Maybe that's a little ahead of the game but not much.

Today, on our walk to the pick up Peanut, Puddin' recognized 4 of the letters reading "Toter" on the side of a neighbor's trash can. She missed the second "t" because the font had a pronounced serif. She proclaimed it an "f," which is what it would have been if it had been flipped vertically.

I'm stunned. And now, undeniably, I am the mom of a preschooler. I told Puddin' as much. "Why, Mama?" "Well, you're growing a lot and learning new kinds of things. How does it feel?" "Good."

Snow Day? Please?

2010-12-13T21:19:00.000-05:00

I heard "chance of snow" on the weather report this evening and felt an old familiar hope: SNOW DAY!

I know there won't be enough snow for a snow day tomorrow (but there's a slight chance later this week! pretty please?) I also know what a pain shoveling is (see the picture from the last post.) Still, I like the sound of a snow day.

Reading together as a family, hot chocolate, board games, movie time, singing together, sledding, looking for animal tracks, baking, science experiments, craft projects, ...

Come to think of it, one snow day won't be enough. Good thing we have a winter break coming soon. 7 more days of school, kids!

In the midst of all our Christmas planning and doing and rushing, what I want most of all is the time to sit and enjoy the season with my family. White Christmas doesn't mean much for me - we're already going to stay home that day anyway. I want the middle of a busy week day that stops us in our tracks.

And Stan, if you're reading this, I promise I'll make it up to you should my wish come true. I'll shovel and sled while you sit under a blanket with your hands around some spicy hot cocoa. Then, come summer heat, I'll stop complaining and enjoy the free time.

As for the rest of you - what are your favorite snowy day activities?

Helping Hands

2010-12-11T20:54:00.000-05:00

"We all know well that we can do things for others and in the process, crush them, making them feel that they are incapable of doing things by themselves. To love someone is to reveal to them their capacities for life, the light that is shining in them." - Jean Vanier

Peanut is having a hard year at school. She's in a challenging program and for the first time in her life, she can't do everything on the first try. She's not the best in her class. She has to think deeper than before to find the why & the how behind the answers. Homework, which used to be a blur of quick mastery, has become a battle. When faced with work that requires more than pat answers, Peanut whines and cries and begs for help. It's easy to see that helping her - by which Peanut means tell her exactly how to arrive at the answer - crushes her ability to master the material. Loving Peanut means helping her see that she is capable.

In other areas of life, however, those lines aren't as clear. I'm a willing musician and I take joy from playing, especially in our church services. But if I step in to play guitar at every gap in the schedule, am I undermining someone else's chance to join in? I appreciate hearing another person's perspective because it helps me see the larger scope of an issue. However, if I listen to a person's gripes, am I cutting off his motivation to do something about the problem? When I see someone hurting I long to draw that person in and hold her in a warm embrace; I want her to feel safe and accepted. But if I stand by someone in crisis without calling him to take action, am I reinforcing his belief that he is powerless?

I'm striving to value the person underneath the stress rather than how I feel when I'm helpful. I'm struggling with the guilt and helplessness I feel when I don't step in to resolve a problem presented to me. Little by little, I'm learning to love others in a way that reveals the light shining within.

To find out more about Jean Vanier check out his entry on Wikipedia. His words are even more powerful in the fuller context of his life. This quote - and most others from my blog - came from a daily email sent out by Sojourners.

More with Less

2010-12-08T14:17:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, less works better.

The girls and I put up the tree this past weekend. It was shiny, we were proud. Monday, when the older two got home from school, I plugged in the tree and settled in for some sparkly relaxation. I left the room for a moment and came back to find a dark tree. Somewhere, in the long series of light strings, a fuse had blown. In my heart of hearts I knew it was a very minor deal but closer to the surface I felt the intense panic of crisis mode. Christmas was ruined and we were still 20 days away!

I asked Stan to check out the situation since he's good with electricity and I'm scared of setting the house on fire. (Of course, when it comes to candles our roles are reversed. It's good to divide the fear.) Stan sighed, and said he would add my request to his (very long) list of to-dos. I sighed and set about learning to love my dark, not-twinkling tree.

A few days later I found lights - the colored ones Monkey & Peanut REALLY wanted this year - at a good price so I picked them up. Once upon a time I was a strong, independent woman so I can handle some tree lights, right? Stan solves his problems his way, I usually find alternate routes and skirt around them. Either way, that tree was going to glitter once more.

First step: Get the dead lights off the fully decorated tree. Even with Puddin' "helping," we managed to accomplish this without breaking anything. Second step: Check the dead lights. Turns out, only one strand had blown. Woohoo! Third step: Decide between old white lights that might fail again or new colored lights that would bring delight to two small darlings. The price on the new lights was good but not quite up to bargain standards so I went for the cheap. Fourth step: Restring lights, maneuvering around ornaments, and get all the way to the top using fewer strands.

Maybe it was the lack of bickering in the air, or maybe the Spirit-of-Christmas-Thrift helped me along: regardless, our tree is shiny again. The lights are evenly spaced and go all the way to the top. I even had an extra strand leftover (in addition to the busted one.) More than that, my ego is feeling a little more sparkly. Maybe I'm ready to tackle that broken light fixture. All else fails, I'll get to teach Puddin' to use a fire extinguisher.

Peace, Joy & Panties

2010-12-08T13:31:00.000-05:00

I've worked hard to come to terms with the fact that I can't have everything I want. I sometimes feel disappointed and sometimes angry but most of the time I manage to put on my big-girl panties and act like a grown-up. My kids have trouble embracing the big-girl panties but since they are children, this is to be expected. Stan and I lead them toward good character development every chance we get and slowly we're seeing progress. We have hopes that by the time we send them out into the world as legal adults they'll actually know how to behave accordingly.

Unfortunately, there are far too many people in the world around me who are not wearing their big-girl panties or big-boy briefs. Here's my message to the grumpy, huffy scrooge behind me at the grocery store. If you step out of line at the grocery store - even to pick up a rose for your honey - you should not expect the 5 people in line at the only open register to wait for you. You're lucky that the guy you cut in front of (trying to get back to your spot) didn't wallop you. Yes I have a lot of stuff. Yes I have coupons. This is my only toddler-free moment all day so I'm not going to speed things up for you. The cashier, bless his heart, looks totally beat at the end of a long day; I don't think he wants to rush either. Maybe if you were nicer, the cashier would have cared that you saved your spot with a box of croissants, but probably not. One cashier and a store-full of customers - there's not a whole lot he could have done for you.

The cashier kept his calm. The other customers looked on in various states of amusement or boredom. I managed to get out of the store without glaring at the guy. Most of us, it seems, were wearing adult-sized under-garments. Christmas spirit, love & good cheer won out that evening. Here's hoping for more moments when I lose control and goodness and good undies preside.

Away in a Manger

2010-12-04T21:00:00.002-05:00

Away in a manger no crib for a bed, the little old smart phone lay down in the shed. The camel is spitting, the phone it does shake, but little old smart phone no ringing it makes.

All Good Gifts

2010-12-03T22:15:00.002-05:00

I skipped a whole month of blogging. November happened here in our house but I just wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Things were mostly good, even when they were hectic, but I still didn't feel like sharing.

Now December is here. We started lighting Advent candles. The Christmas decorations are going up little by little. There is much Christmas music in the house. Much of the shopping is done. I've started the heavy allergy meds. [Sidenote - with the help of a recently rediscovered friendship and the other allergists she works with, we might figure out what the deal with the Christmas tree allergy is. At the very least, I'm hopeful that I'll make it to Christmas Eve without bronchitis this year.]

Because of the way the custody schedule fell this year, we haven't had much recreative time with Monkey & Peanut. I've missed weekend time with them. So much of our everyday time is spent with to-dos and planners. Monkey is sometimes surprised to hear me laugh because in the midst of the school routines she forgets that there's a side of me that would rather scrap it all and just have some fun. Deep down I just want to curl up on the sofa with her and read a good book together but responsible parenting prevails. [We started Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone almost two months ago and we're still only half way through. We need weekend time for that alone, even without all the other stuff.]

Tonight we set aside the schedule and had family time. We lit our Advent wreath and talked about how we wait in hope for the good that Jesus brings. We sang our invitation to Emmanuel - a little too loudly for Monkey's taste. Then we played a board game and drank coffee together. (Puddin' got milk, I promise.) We laughed and talked and tried to touch our noses with our tongues. We sent the kids to bed an hour late.

I'm still not feeling particularly verbose about our goings-on here. I feel like protecting the time, keeping it close and holding it sacred. Holidays are for sharing, though, and my lovely sister-in-law has chastised me for holding out on her.

So for each of you out there - I wish you hope & peace, joy & love, as you go through each day of this holiday season. I'm on the lookout for these good things in my world and will cheerfully share what I find. I'd love to hear what good you come across as well.

Saved by grace

2010-10-28T22:32:00.000-04:00

I weep a lot. I thank God I laugh a lot, too. The main thing in one's own private world is to try to laugh as much as you cry.
- Maya Angelou

This week, I had a major & public parenting failure. There was screaming. A well-meaning stranger tried to help. Instead of letting her, I slunk away with my confused children in tow. The woman's words have led to huge amounts of shame, resentment, and anger but most importantly to soul-searching.

I've been trying too long to be perfect. Being a good mom to intelligent, beautiful daughters is a hard job. There are a thousand ways to second-guess myself every day. Being stepmom is even harder. I feel like "good" isn't enough. There's always someone watching. If someone is feeling punitive on a day I make a mistake then we could all end up in court, redrafting the custody agreement. Therefore, I can't make mistakes. To be good enough as a stepmom means perfection. And perfection for stepmom means perfection for kids. Monkey wouldn't have made that mistake if I had coached her a little more with her homework. Peanut would have done better on the test if I had made sure she was in bed on time. The harder I try to reach the bar, the further we move away from it.

Peanut is a people-pleaser so she's done her darnedest to reach the standard. She'll wear what she's told, read what she's told, think what she's told. Of course, switching from house to house those things she's being told change a few times each week. She's still trying, though. She wants to be perfect so that we'll love her more. Even typing that sentence breaks my heart. She has no concept of how wonderful she really is, much less what things make her uniquely so.

Monkey, on the other hand, is completely her own person. She will not be anything other than who she is. She is not normal and has zero interest in going there. Her reaction to the perfection stress has been to flout every standard but turn around and throw the bossy perfectionist stress back at the rest of the family. She's learned that imperfect people still get to demand perfection from others.

The ugly flip side of this is that there is another woman who loves these children madly and who is doing the best she knows how for them. On my good days I wish her well and assume the best of her. On other days I criticize and judge. I rehash her actions, count her mistakes, and scrutinize her motivations. I wish I had more good days but I'm too busy trying to hide my imperfection.

The day after my ugly, screaming tantrum was rainy. Puddin' and I were off to pick up Monkey from school and Puddin' asked to wear her boots. Puddin' is a puddle jumper. A block before the school there's a deep muddy puddle that delights her little soul. I let her jump and run and twirl her umbrella. Monkey came along and together we stood, watching Puddin's joy. Perfect-mom cried out that Monkey should go straight to work on her homework but I let Puddin's laughter drown the nagging voice. I let out a deep laugh at a particularly exuberant leap and Monkey commented that she never sees me laugh like that. On my good days I laugh a lot. I wish I had more good days.

Stan and I have recently started talking with the kids about the difference between living in a perfect world where mistakes are punished and a grace-filled world where mistakes are forgiven. We are all - parents and children both - trying to choose grace. Grace, like muddy puddles, brings delight to our souls.

How about them apples?

2010-10-14T12:02:00.000-04:00

I'm a HUGE fan of apples and, along with that, of apple picking. I usually go every autumn. This year we got into the late part of the season before I planned the extended family apple picking outing. There was one Saturday when we had just enough time to get a trip in and still get kiddos back for soccer practice as needed. Then Puddin' got invited to a birthday party for that very same day. The little tot has a rather limited social life so in this case her event trumped mine. I was bummed: no trip to the countryside, no apples, no family time. The rest of the gang went without us and from what I heard, enjoyed themselves. More importantly, they brought us apples!

Apples that haven't been to the grocery store taste marvelously free. I've been slowly snacking my way through my bag (apples with honey, apples with peanut butter, apples and pancakes, and of course just plain apples) but yesterday I started baking. The apples have peaked so now it's a race against time to enjoy their goodness while it's still there. So far I've made apple cake with walnuts (moist, tasty, needs a caramel or streussel topping) and apple cinnamon scones (made into an appropriate breakfast food with the addition of whole wheat flour and some ground flax seed.)

My parents bought themselves a tool but it arrived after they'd finished all their apple recipes so I'm testing the gadget. For those who don't know, let me introduce the Apple Master.

This gal does three jobs - she cores the apple (although you can remove the corer), she peels it, and she slices the apple into one long spiral (kinda like a curly fry.) The peel comes off in one long, even, curly strip which would be lovely to do something with except for the fact that I have no idea what to do with just apple peel. The one downside I've found is that the apples (which have been off the tree for two weeks so they're a little sensitive) get a bit mealy with all that man-handling.

Given the easy apple prep, I'm ready to keep on baking. My family, most of whom don't like apples as much as I do, might not be able to keep up with me. Just about the time the dear darlings hit their limit I'll pull out the crockpot and whip up a batch of apple butter, which makes apple-y goodness last until next year's crop is ready for me to pick.

Beauty vs. Drama: Battle of the Queens

2010-10-14T11:01:00.000-04:00

Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have beautiful kids. I live in a beautiful part of the world. My handsome husband has a beautiful soul. I have some beautiful shoes. There is much beauty to behold in my world.

Sometimes I have trouble seeing beauty because there's too much drama in the way. Emotional drama does a good job of obliterating the joy of a beautiful moment. Kid drama sucks the life out of me like no other since I'm reminded that I'll be spending time with them for many years to come, whether or not they've outgrown these behaviors.

One of the kids got mad at school when she lost a game so she threw the game pieces across the room. Her lack of self-control makes for intense, hard to process drama. Another kid feels her emotion bodily so every negative emotion becomes a stomach or headache. Eventually, in dramatic fashion, stress becomes vomit. And, of course, toddlers are pretty much designed for drama. Me-do-it turns to screaming rant in seconds, often without warning or obvious way out.

It's not all drama, of course. I love the beautiful glow on their faces when they feel proud. I love the beautiful toddler run. I love the beautiful curiosity & creativity. I love the beautiful ambition to do more each day. I love beautiful moments when none of them around.

Kid-free moments bring hope for serenity. Kid-free beauty can be savored in quiet rather than experienced prosaically. Kid-free time brings freedom to explore without fear of destruction.

This weekend Stan and I will have a blissful 24 hours kid-free. We don't have any fancy plans but the simplicity is part of the beauty. We will pluck tasks from our to-do lists, seek out creative expression, and enjoy the vast silence. Life is already looking more beautiful, just knowing that for a brief time - and soon - we will not be outnumbered.

This week in Thankfulness

2010-09-23T13:56:00.013-04:00

Today I'm grateful for ...

... passionate children, even when their passions cause extra work for the parents.
... creative play for all ages.
... teachers who want to challenge our kids.
... silly poetry (especially when it inspires more silly poetry.)
... guacamole and chimmichurri sauce. I'm a little obsessed right now.
... the purplish leaves in our front yard.
... a college education that prepared me to parent through the tough times. (How many folks can say that one?)
... new running shoes.
... little girls who like to run with me.

Yuppie Babies Drive to IKEA

2010-09-17T15:03:00.004-04:00

I'm raising a yuppie child. I'm not doing it on purpose, I promise. Even admitting it here feels like maybe I belong in the basement of the Unitarian church in an obscure 12-step meeting. Sometimes I wonder whether I should try to correct course but most of the time I'm just fine with it. There are worse fates than yuppie, right?

I suppose we don't help matters when we read her things like Foodie Babies Wear Bibs. There's a whole series of them, each rather delicious. I giggle with delight and put them under her nose and frankly, she doesn't stand a chance.

Here are a few sentences I heard from her yesterday - words that would have been completely foreign in my own (distinctly non-yuppie, even though the word hadn't been invented yet) childhood.

"I'm going to IKEA. I have a GPS so I don't need directions. The GPS will tell the car where to go." And while she's driving she'll most likely listen to NPR. Yep, that's my kid.

This week in Thankfulness

2010-09-16T11:11:00.000-04:00

I'm grateful today ...

... for the spunky cardinal at the bird feeder and the others looking down from the tree.
... for cloud watching with Puddin' and rolling in the grass.
... for new-to-us books from the library.
... for smiling, happy Peanut running off to school.
... for crisp, tangy apples and the chance to go pick more soon.
... for leaf printing with Monkey.
... for frequent potty successes.

Weather Vane or Whether Vain

2010-09-10T21:00:00.000-04:00

When the weather turns I feel the need to re-assess my direction. I amp up my exercise, change my eating habits, and nurture my hobbies. Its a lovely time of revitalization, 4 times a year. I wish it didn't need to happen so often but it's certainly fun while I'm in the midst of it.

As fall approaches, I'm doing all these things again - which is no surprise. What seems surprising is that it feels comfortable. I'm not facing the internal resistance to change that I usually do. Maybe this time some of the changes will actually stick, but I'm trying not to count my frogs before they leap.

What the frog is she talking about?

2010-09-09T14:13:00.000-04:00

The blues are like spirituals, almost sacred. When we sing blues, we’re singing out our hearts, we’re singing out our feelings. Maybe we’re hurt and just can’t answer back, then we sing or maybe even hum the blues. When I sing ... what I’m doing is letting my soul out. - Alberta Hunter, American blues singer

Alberta Hunter had a storied life that gave an extra boost to her already powerful voice. I'll never sing like that but I hope that when I'm 80 I can look that joyful. In my harried days, joy is sometimes covered in blue shadows.

It's been a rough week here, getting the 5 of us used to a new life routine. School has started, meetings are up and running again, lessons and classes too. As much as I love this time of year, the uncertainty about how it all works together has given me some sleepless nights. In my sleepy angst, I turn to music.

I can get through my happy times without music, although I much prefer a soundtrack whenever possible. I can't get through my tough times without music, though. My soul feeds on music as my lungs feed on air. Sometimes it's the songs Puddin' makes up to explain her day, other times it's great jazz from our local station. On the really blue days, the most soothing music is home made (but rarely the blues.)

This week someone gave me an electric bass. Bassists are often brooding types. The ones I've known are quietly passionate. They set mood and tone for music without much overt play for attention. Something about that role calls out to me. My soul - bruised yet hopeful - can't wait to come out and play.

Chimney Rock

2010-09-06T22:34:00.012-04:00

School starts tomorrow so I should probably finish all the summer stories soon. I'm sure there will be much more to talk about in the coming weeks. I know for sure that there will be more time to myself for putting coherent thoughts together. God bless our public school system.

As part of our big summer road-trip we stopped at Chimney Rock in North Carolina. After a few hours of driving (and what had been nearly a week of driving for Stan and me) it was great to get out and move. I'm a huge fan of hiking even though I don't do it often and have turned into a wimp. I often long for mountains and go into a funk if I don't get my fix a few times a year. Chimney Rock isn't quite hiking, though. This was climbing stairs—lots of them—crowded with most of the office building during a full elevator outage. We had breezes and plenty of beautiful scenery, and a toddler to carry—did I mention this was hard work?

Monkey & Peanut started off the hike a little leery but it didn't take them long to realize that this was going to be worth the effort. Here's a picture of them at the first overlook. (Aren't they gorgeous? It's hard for me to even see the background.)

We hiked on and came to Chimney Rock itself. You can see from the first picture what it looks like. I thought a little too much about the fact that there were 25–50 people standing on a rock jutting out from the side of a mountain so I sat mostly still in the very center of the space. I managed to keep my mouth shut and not ruin the fun for the rest of the fam, which I consider a victory. I did manage to shut down my fear long enough to participate in pictures. In the solo picture, Stan is looking up at the next part of our hike. He looks a little wistful, I think.

Monkey took the picture of Stan and me together. I've got hat hair and we're both squinting. I almost didn't include it but we look happy and that makes it a pretty real representation. To make up for the scruffy parents, take a look at those fabulous girls! Monkey, looking off in the distance, distracted by some beautiful sight. Peanut, looking straight at the camera ready to start up a dialog. Puddin' just delighted to be part of it all. We have a bad history with Christmas cards (I don't think we've managed to get them out once since we've been married) but I'm tempted to get some printed up with this picture. I still won't manage to get them in the mail, though, so they would turn into bookmarks and toddler projects. Instead, I'll just post it here for friends and family (and a few random strangers—hi!) to see. In a few months—when you're counting your holiday cards—please remember this and count us in. Hope your holidays are full of joy. Happy New Year!

We continued up to the next part of the hike and were able to look down on what we had accomplished. That's one of the things that I enjoy about hiking: There are plenty of tangible rewards on the way up, with scenery and endorphins, but there's also instant feedback when you get to the top. Look what I just overcame!

A very nice mother/daughter team took some family pictures for us. The best of the bunch is down near the bottom of the post. Puddin' did not want to smile for the strange lady.

After our climb down [please don't run. watch out for the people climbing up. no trampling, please. remember how hard it was to climb up? so don't run over the climbers.] we took in the waterfall down towards the bottom. There hadn't been too much rain so it was a gentle fall. The great thing about gentle is that without too much flow, it was safe for folks to climb in. Stan took Monkey & Peanut in to go traipsing about in the water while Puddin' and I stayed on dry bridge. I had a great shot lined up with Stan's hand in the falls but a tattooed arm got in the frame and then the camera battery died. The other battery was in Stan's pocket. They splashed and explored, even though the camera wasn't there to record it. It was all going wonderfully until Peanut slipped on a slimy rock and got wet up to her belly button. She squished for some of the rest of the day but we didn't have anywhere nice we needed to go.

From there we went to find some dinner and then off to our hotel. The next day it was back in the van for more road-trip.

Date? with no kids?

2010-08-17T22:08:00.000-04:00

Stan and I took some time during our recent road trip for an overnight date - 36 hours without any children! We toured Stan's old school, ate like college students and then glammed up for a night out. Here's a little photo tour of some of the highlights.

We headed for town after breakfast and went immediately to lunch. Cheese steaks at one of Stan's old haunts. Cheese steaks are not on the diet but they were immensely tasty and well worth the momentary guilt. The guilt was quickly drowned out by Stan anyway, as he told me stories of his college life.

Next on the list was an official college tour - the kind the admissions office puts together for perspective freshmen. I'm happy to report that I was NOT mistaken for a high schooler.

It was 100˚ that day and we walked 'round campus for 90 minutes that afternoon. We left puddles in our wake. We both enjoyed the time on campus but we were grateful to head off to the hotel and wash away the hobo looks we had acquired.

There are no pictures of us dressed up. I forgot to pack a purse to match and the camera didn't fit in Stan's pocket. Quite a shame, really, because we don't manage to look that nice very often. We ate at an unassuming little place called Terra Terrior, which I found from the most recent Wine Spectator Grand Award winners. The food was excellent - chipotle shrimp & grits, grilled halibut in shallot sauce, and a creamy, frothy, meringue-y key lime pie.

We headed back to the hotel and this ...

was the view out our room window. During the day the view showed the beautiful hotel gardens but there's still enough city gal left in me that this is the picture that felt luxurious.

The next morning we walked over to a nearby Corner Bakery and had scrumptious eggs, coffee and toast. I've been to a few shops from this chain and never considered it much to sing about but this one could be the poster-shop for the brand. The staff was wonderful, called us darlin' and the like - and we even got hugs to go with our breakfast. How often do you get hugs from the staff when you're out for breakfast? And how did this wonderful woman (who's name I didn't catch) manage to make it a blessing rather than creepy?

We spent the rest of the morning at the pool. I am happy when submerged in water.

From there we drove about town looking at all sorts of other locations that Stan had known in his college years. Since I didn't know him then it was fun to see something concrete to go with the stories, and to get a glimpse into that time in his life. By walking in Stan's footsteps I can somehow be a part of those years, even from a distance of many years. I'm looking forward to our next nostalgic road trip.

This is not my father's roadtrip

2010-08-12T20:40:00.000-04:00

When I was young we often went on long road trips to visit family. We'd pile into the car at 4 a.m., eat a Hardee's breakfast somewhere down the road, try and find someplace serving lunch at 10 in the morning. Other than food, we only stopped for absolute potty emergencies. There were no electronics save the radio and tape player. We played oodles and oodles of car games. We'd drive late into the night and finally stop to find beds long after my brother and I had fallen asleep in the car. We'd be up and out at 4 the next morning and so it goes again. They were rough trips but I remember them as full of family fun.

Last week we went down South to pick up Monkey & Peanut. We traveled down, dropped off Puddin', went to the big city for a 36 hour date, back to the in-laws, and then packed up all the kids and headed off to camp. We had to get Monkey & Peanut to West Virginia at a certain time on Sunday afternoon so the best way to manage this was to stay overnight halfway through and then continue the next day. I told Stan my standard was no cockroaches. He found a lovely spot with rustic charm and a French-inspired bistro on the first floor. For breakfast I had a feta and carmelized onion souffle with fresh fruit and drinkable (tasty, even) coffee. Sitting outside, listening to the waterfall, drinking my coffee, I could barely hear the sounds of the bickering children. What a blissful and civilized way to start a day of traveling.

(For the record, the sippy cup was not mine.)

Happy Birthday Stan!

2010-08-11T15:32:00.000-04:00

I made a cake today (from scratch, which is rare) and Puddin' asked "oh, why?" She's a unique toddler but we still can't escaped that question. I told her it was for her dad's birthday. "oh, why?" Today is his birthday. "oh, why?" Today is the day we celebrate that he was born. And from that point on, Puddin' and all her toys did everything as a celebration that Daddy was born. They ate (pretend) yogurt to celebrate that Daddy was born. They rolled on the floor to celebrate that Daddy was born. They served cookies to celebrate that Daddy was born. They climbed the stool to celebrate that her Daddy was born. The girl was beyond herself with glee that her Daddy was born. So am I.

[The picture is from a date we recently had down South, as part of the Great Roadtrip of '10.]

Being Maria

2010-08-10T15:01:00.000-04:00

Here are 5 of the 6 grand kids on Stan's side of the family. [#6 was just out of the frame, with a plastic cake plate cover on his head.] In this picture, they are standing on the fireplace hearth, which acts as a stage more often than serving it's intended purpose

The biggest three were performing songs from The Sound of Music, which they had almost completely memorized over the course of 3 days. Kids 4 and 5 just wanted to be part of the action, but made welcome additions to the Von Trapp reenactment, even though they didn't know the songs.

Most of the adults [also numbering 6. We like to keep our teams even.] sat on the couch and half listened but for me, this was far too delightful to just watch. You see, as a child I too was obsessed with The Sound of Music. I loved watching the movie and singing the songs. I never had a gaggle of kids to reenact it with me, though. Right before my eyes my kids, along with niece and nephew, were living out a childhood fantasy.

I sang the words (quietly) from the back of the room and watch their motions with hushed pride. Monkey had been paying very careful attention to the moves and tried diligently to coach the others. The beautiful young voices - which are often strained into awful mimicry of pop artists - followed the lilting melodies perfectly, matching pitch and tone. Without even thinking, I took to singing the part of Maria. Occasionally, one of the kids looked at me and I gave the gentle nod of encouragement, just like Maria would have done.

Monkey beckoned me to the stage with her hands and it occurred to me - I'm Maria. I'm the step mom; I'm the one that helps them with their music lessons; I'm the one who sings and dances with them. It was a stunning moment, and for one brief instance I could imagine our brood dressed in folksy travel gear, climbing the mountainside, singing in perfect 5-part harmony.

I didn't end up going on stage with them. It was the kids' show and I didn't want to steal their glory. But I hope that we will have more opportunities soon to play and sing like that as a family.

My, what big teeth you have!

2010-07-29T21:37:00.000-04:00

My toddler looks like a preschooler. I know it's not a huge difference to most of the world but from the Mama perspective, it's gargantuan. Our girls are doing a bunch of growing up this summer, as little girls are want to do.

Puddin' is in a big girl bed and had her first trip to the dentist. She's counting, using big words and bigger sentences. She's talking to new people (including giving a kiss to a waitress at a Thai restaurant. She really enjoyed the food.)

While down South, Peanut rode her first roller coaster. I didn't get to see it but heard the stories. Verdict - it was awesome! She's learning to embrace unfamiliar things and leave childish fears behind, just as long as the adults around her push a little. She's on the cusp of independence that comes with the tween years. She's been away from us for a few weeks and barely misses us, which is good, even when it doesn't feel so delightful.

Monkey has discovered that she's good at the breast stroke. She's delighted to find an unexpected skill and is feeling pretty good about herself. She's finding her voice - phone conversations are a barrage of sound from start to finish - which is a big change from the shy girl we had just a few months ago. She's also learning how to tell humorous stories without belittling people and adding snarky attitude. Conversations are oh-so-much more pleasant now. I think she'll come out of tween-dom a rather lovely human being.

After a year of hard life lessons, we're all finally finding joy and rest. If this summer is any indication, I think it's going to be a good year at our house.

[The astronaut picture is at the dentist office - the same pediatric dentist I went to around Monkey's age. Back then it was an aquarium but still uber-cool.]

Misfit, redux

2010-07-16T16:06:00.000-04:00

There's an empty chair at our house today. A friend I haven't seen in weeks was supposed to come over for a chat and iced coffee or home-made limeade. Well, actually the plan was originally to go on a mini-adventure together but we couldn't get our schedules lined up. Even with the simplified plan I was really looking forward to our time together. Puddin' and I planned our activities and play around her expected arrival time, which came and went without a word. I feel like I've been stood up on a Friday night.

I didn't have a good social life in high school. Not many teenagers like to talk philosophically about life and religion and body humor has never had appeal for me. I spent most of my weekends babysitting or home watching movies with my parents. Mostly I was ok with the situation - I didn't have much in common with my peers - but occasionally I'd feel the need to do something about it. I'd meet someone who seemed to have more depth than the average teen or who had enough quirks that maybe mine wouldn't matter much. It never took long for the cautious optimism to turn to deflated loneliness.

I don't feel that way much anymore. Stan doesn't like words nearly as much as I do but he's often willing to talk things through with me for a while. His analytic brain adds needed grounding for my philosophical ramblings. We're intrigued by some of the same big ideas and problems. We're a good match and together we don't feel like the misfits we're sometimes perceived to be. I like to think I've outgrown my awkwardness but situations like the one today make me think I'm wrong.

I know this friend likes me and values time with me. I recognize that her life is full and demanding. I understand that her life - unattached and artistic - requires a different schedule than raising a toddler does. I'm also quite sure we'll get together again soon. In the meantime I'm soothing my wounded pride with carrot cake. Speaking of which - I've got enough to share and would love to have some company. Come on over!

I'm afraid I can't let you do that

2010-07-15T18:00:00.002-04:00

iPhoto stole my photos. I entrusted my pics to iPhoto and then the program hid them from me. After weeks of trying to work with and then around the program I declared war. I did a google search to figure out how to get at my photos again and found language from mac users saying things like "iPhoto hid your pictures for a reason." and "Don't go digging in your pictures files or you might mess something up." and even "You don't ever need to know where your files are." I got so frustrated that I even had dreams about my computer turning into HAL. "I'm sorry Heather, I'm afraid I can't show you your photos." Finally, my hero Stan figured out how to get control of my pictures again. Thanks to my honey's efforts, I can get back to posting my own photos instead of stealing from other folks.

The photo above is of me at the pier in Fairhope, Alabama. Behind me is Mobile Bay and in the distance, the Gulf of Mexico. I'm posting this shot in celebration that the oil has stopped gushing. I'm hoping that the well and apparatus are now stable, and praying for a speedy recovery of that beloved shore.

Something's not right on the farm

2010-07-13T22:39:00.002-04:00

"Old MacDonald had a farm and on that farm he had some panties." - Puddin', joyfully sung today while sitting on the potty.

Why does Farmer MacDonald have panties on his farm? Are there lots of daughter farmers-in-training? Is he trying to train the chickens? Does he just want to feel pretty? Puddin' didn't have anything further to say on the matter - she was too busy giggling hysterically at her own joke. This may go down as one of the great mysteries of our age.

Have guitar, will travel

2010-07-08T21:29:00.002-04:00

This is my first post in quite a long time. I started one a while back and then realized that there wasn't much point to it - it was, in fact, rather boring. Basically it boils down to my kids are smart and I don't let them get bored because I have no tolerance for the whining or fighting.

So that's pretty much been my days. In the evening I tend to crash from all the expended energy and enthusiasm. Some nights I'll try and get a little cleaning done but that makes me more grumpy so I generally just deal with the mess. There hasn't been much room for pondering or creativity. Of course, that's also part of why I'm grumpy and drained but that's a whole other matter.

Earlier this week, out of the blue, Puddin' looked at me and said "Mama, I like how you sing." "Oh," I said, "you like it when I sing?" "Yeah. So booful." Then later at the grocery store she started singing and I tried to join in. "No, it's my turn. You no sing now." and sang even louder down the cereal aisle.

Last week Peanut - the resident rocker - asked me to spend some time painting with her. This is pretty rare since she doesn't generally see herself as a visual artist. I wish she hadn't asked while I was prepping dinner - I'm not sure I'll get that opportunity back.

Monkey- our painter and ballerina - is taking a break from dance this summer and doing some intro lessons in guitar and piano. Her long fingers work magic on the keyboard, even though she's only had a few lessons. She's also signed up to take violin through the school next year, which she was quite reluctant to even consider a year ago.

Each of our girls is freely taking artistic risks and exploring new avenues. For both Monkey & Peanut this is a pretty big change. They used to be reluctant to try anything unfamiliar. Monkey is starting to recognize how creative her thought processes are and is trying to harness it. (She started a series of baby picture books that are pretty good. I hope she'll finish a few of them.) Peanut is starting to understand the amount of work it takes to hone talent and will choose to practice without prompting at least once a week. And Puddin' is busting out all over. She's dancing, doing percussion, and singing her heart out. Shout out to Papa, if he's reading - she loves drumming, especially on bellies. Sometimes she'll sing a little bit and then say to me in all seriousness "I just made up that song."

This weekend we take Monkey & Peanut down South to Stan's parents for a month. They get to run and swim and have sleepovers and generally be little girls for days on end. Among the many things on my list to pack is two guitars. In my mind's eye I can see them now, each proudly wheeling her suitcase with her guitar case strapped to her back. If they were just 6 inches taller it could be the picture of going off to college, or on the road for the first gig. I love watching them grow, especially into such beautiful works of art. I'm sure gonna miss them.

Tiny Bubbles

2010-06-21T12:06:00.004-04:00

We're a musical household. Stan has a beautiful deep baritone voice. Peanut is learning guitar & piano. Monkey is trying them out too but her real love is dance, and visual arts. I'm trying to add guitar to my repertoire but singing is the part that comes most naturally to me. Puddin' is turning out to be quite the singer too. (Of course, at the moment Puddin' is pretending she's playing at a piano bar so who knows where she'll end up.)

Puddin' and I have a song for just about everything. We have food songs, sleepy songs, diaper change songs and now potty songs. Some of them we make up, and some we co-opt to suit our purposes. Along with potty training comes hand washing and hand washing must have its own song. The song we've settled on is "Tiny Bubbles." We put soap on hands, start scrubbing and sing until we see the tiny bubbles appear. This is a schmaltz classic from 50 years ago but it holds great power for this particular toddler. We haven't made it past the first line yet but I'm thinking we can make this work for us. If you have any ideas - brilliant or otherwise - for child-proofing the song I'd love to hear them.

Tiny Bubbles
words & music by Leon Pober

Tiny bubbles (tiny bubbles)
In the wine (in the wine)
Make me happy (make me happy)
Make me feel fine (make me feel fine)

Tiny bubbles (tiny bubbles)
Make me warm all over
With a feeling that I'm gonna
Love you till the end of time

So here's to the golden moon
And here's to the silver sea
And mostly here's a toast
To you and me

So here's to the ginger lei
I give to you today
And here's a kiss
That will not fade away

The Last Throes of Spring

2010-06-17T09:42:00.001-04:00

It's been a while since I've put up a wine post. Rest assured, we're still drinking but there haven't been many outstanding wines in the cue. It's hard to get up the energy to write up a wine that doesn't wow me, (even though I said I was going to.) Earlier this week we had a rosé syrah that I was excited about. I came up with what I thought was a good menu to match but it was merely ok. Honestly, I count my lucky stars that we get "ok" wine as often as we do when our price point is so very low. Times like these I miss working in the wine world.

The big news in our house is panties. Panties, panties, panties! We dance with panties, we sing about panties, we wash a lot of panties. We're trying to convince the toddler that panties really are the bees knees and it's worth giving up the uninterrupted play that diapers allow. It's a slow process but I think we're making progress. This morning she begged for a diaper but we're holding our ground. I imagine the toddler mood swings will work to our advantage and she'll be singing the praises of panties again within the hour.

[I'm sure some of y'all noticed the juxtaposition of pictures here. Puddin' has her potty training tools and Mama has a set of her own.]

In addition to all this we're finishing the school year - and have finally finished the "spring" planting. Summer doesn't officially start for another week so we're technically in the zone. The plants are harder to convince. Hopefully they'll get over the loss of their spring and be willing to grow anyway.

I feel somewhat similarly about Monkey & Peanut as they finish their school years. Hopefully they'll get over the losses and stresses of this year and grow stronger in spite of it all. It's been a rough school year for all of us. The loss of pets, the lack of friends, and scary new stages of growth. Summer brings familiar activities, childish fun, and time to step away from the stress, not to mention the chance to let the toddler run naked in the backyard. Who needs potty training?

Tsunami

2010-06-10T09:43:00.002-04:00

Tsunami was a cranky old lady most of the time. She loudly MREOWED when she didn't like her food or when the weather didn't suit. She looked condescendingly at the kids antics. She was quite comfortable in her role as supreme being within our household. In other words, she was a cat.

For 13 years she was a comfort and companion for me: lonely years living far away from family, sad years facing judgment, busy years raising the family. She took it all in stride, even in later years sharing her abode with a dog. In spite of her cantankerous appearance, Tsunami was a furry little angel for me - an embodiment of God's love. Thanks for everything, dear kitty. We all miss you greatly. (Puddin' is waving and saying hello to your picture even as I type.)

A Walk in the Rain

2010-06-06T15:39:00.001-04:00

It's been stinkin' hot around here but today there's a coolness blowing in along with some sweet-smelling summer rain. After our yummy, heavy Mexican lunch, Peanut and I went for a walk. We walked hand in hand, getting misted and drizzled by the soft rain, talking and laughing. She so rarely has a parent all to herself and she took full advantage of it. She regaled me with stories - from what would make God sad enough to cry to what colors her house will be painted when she gets older. Occasionally she recognized my silence with a comment about how much she'd been talking. I reassured her that I didn't see a problem and she gladly went back to telling me everything that was on her mind. And quite the mind it is, too. I often get so caught up in the daily doings that I lose track of the wonderfulness of each little person in our house. I'm grateful for the time and the reminder. I'm also thankful for my little Peanut.

Be there in just a minute

2010-06-01T09:24:00.000-04:00

We have commenced potty training.

I pride myself on (mostly) being able to arrive on time, even with kids in tow. I have a feeling my track record is headed downhill. Yesterday Puddin' had already been on the potty 3 times before she'd been up 2 hours. Each stint takes 10-20 minutes and at least two books. The girl adores books so she milks each sitting for as many as she can get away with.

At this point we're going with a very low-key tactic that helps Puddin' get used to the procedures. We're still doing full-time diapering. For the time being I can get away with rushing her out the door but I think that'll only last a few more weeks.

So if you're expecting to meet me sometime soon, please pardon me if I'm a little late. We're probably in the potty.

Treasure Hunting

2010-05-29T08:32:00.000-04:00

We're spending the long weekend cleaning out the workshop in our basement. It's supposed to be a utilitarian room for laundry, exercise, the tool bench, etc. Instead, it's a pile of accumulated clutter. Not the memories the weekend was created for but we can't replace the leaking water heater until we've made a path.

Much of the debris is from the years Stan was in the house before I came along. Tokens from his childhood and college years are mixed in with old cleaning and lawn care products. There are a number of boxes belonging to his ex-wife that we haven't yet managed to get her to take. These are not the giddiest memories to wade through.

Still, I love organizing. I love getting rid of clutter. It's wonderfully cathartic and the finished product is often dramatic. I consider a well-planned and organized room to be a thing of great beauty, even when there's a water heater in the background. Who knows, we may even end up on Antiques Roadshow.

Whatcha doing?

2010-05-27T09:39:00.001-04:00

When I was in high school I thought a vocation was a particular calling. Here's a voice: "Come, follow me." My idea of a calling now is not: "Come." It's ... what I'm doing right now, not what I'm going to be. Life is a calling. - Rebecca Sweeney, an American who held a variety of jobs, including six years as a nun

I recently chatted with a friend I haven't seen in a while. She's pregnant with her first child and asked how I'm enjoying motherhood. The answer is that I finally get to be more myself than I ever have before. Sure, there are dirty floors, whiny kids, and endless laundry, but those things are in the midst of lots of rewarding moments.

I've been reading up on parenting "tweens" since Stan and I are sort of floundering out of our depths. There's been some interesting new info but mostly I feel gratified that we're doing well by our children. We're teaching them valuable lessons about relationships and their emotions, about how to take responsibility and solve problems. The call I once felt to teach is playing out as life moves on.

Each week I take part in planning worship services at our church. I'm part of a crew thinking deeply about who God is, why we worship, and how to meet the needs of the widest possible group of people. My tendency to think too much has a useful outlet and my brief stint at seminary is paying off.

Recently I played guitar in public for the first time ever. I was pretty sure I wasn't good enough, wasn't ready, but it turned out just fine. Even though there's plenty more work to do, little moments of practice and lessons have paid off so that the call I once felt to be a musician is more realistic than ever.

Sometimes I feel like I've lost my identity in the cacophony of voices at our house. Sometimes I wonder if being a happy stay-at-home-mom means that I've given up all ambition or sense-of-self. Culture tells me I shouldn't settle but I'm having far too good a time to listen.

Life is calling.

Candylicious

2010-05-22T18:05:00.003-04:00

The candy party was a success. Monkey had a pretty good turnout, which was a stunning change from earlier in the year. The kids ran through most of the games in about an hour so I pulled out the cupcakes to buy some time. (We had simple swirl cupcakes, with the creamiest vanilla frosting I've ever made. Then the girls got to decorate with as many Jelly Bellys as their little hearts desired.) The last activity turned out to be the one that finally got them playfully engaged. It was also the only activity that was entirely my creation rather than something taken from an online resource. It was a nice little moment of pride after worrying the party would flop. (We gave them fictitious candy names. The teams had to decide what the candy would be like and then create a commercial for it.) Each girl went away with a bag full of candy - and a few non-edibles, which made Stan and I feel better. Monkey & Peanut were overjoyed to discover that they not only got goodie bags, but got to keep the extras, too. They've spent the past few dessert times ignoring all baked goods, blissing out on various sugar conduits. Thanks to World Market for some out-of-the-ordinary candy to go along with the staples, the novelty of which has increased their joy.

Mama got a bit of candy, herself, in the form of an impeccably well written mystery. Brat Farrar, which is part of a collection by Josephine Tey, was just the right end to the weekend. My only complaint is that the story couldn't have lasted a little longer. I've enjoyed these three stories immensely and will be searching out more by Tey and her pseudonyms.

Oodles of Rocks

2010-05-19T16:37:00.007-04:00

We have oodles of rocks at our house. Big, smooth, pretty river rocks. I'd love them if there weren't so gosh darn many of them. Stan has been digging a lot lately, trying to finally kill the leftover roots from the holly bushes we took out a few years ago, and in doing so has unearthed a whole lot more rocks. I've been trying to figure out uses for them other than filling buckets.

I see decorated rocks for sale sometimes for outrageous prices. I suppose I could start decorating our rocks and see if anyone would buy them. My skills in visual arts aren't up to a commercial standard, though. Not to mention, I don't see myself learning to etch rock anytime soon. I've tried to pawn some off on my mother, who is more crafty than I am. She hasn't bitten yet, though. Maybe if I get her granddaughters to make the offer she'd fall for it.

One of the things I've done is create borders around some of our planting spaces. I haven't figured out the secret to making it pretty yet, but I'm enjoying the result temporarily. [I don't think Stan likes my rock border much so temporary might not last long at all.] It serves as a boundary so I know where to stop yanking plants and the young man from down the street knows where to stop mowing. All the grass-like stuff stays in the yard and the flowers and bushes are contained in the bed.

I'm working on carefully placing rock borders internally too. "I understand you're disappointed to see me rather than your mother. It's ok to feel that way, and it's even ok to tell me. It not ok to take out your anger on me." "I know you intended to do the job but you didn't. When you don't keep your promises it's hard to trust you." Each time I say one of these things, something inside me cries out "they're just kids - give them a break! Can't they have just one more chance?" I want to give endless second chances. I want to make life easier for them, even if it means I do more than my fair share. But I have to keep the parent-like things in my yard, and leave the kid-things on the other side for them to sort out.

Brown Chair

2010-05-17T16:26:00.003-04:00

I've been fighting off buckets of snot the past few days and am thoroughly exhausted. This morning I felt a little better so I tackled my to-dos with more gusto than was smart. Halfway through the day I realized I didn't have anymore energy to spend.

Me: [big sigh]
Puddin': Mama fustated?
Me: No Sweetie, I just don't feel good.
Puddin': Mama sick. Mama sit.

Such a smart little darling. I had reached the part of my day when the workload is non-negotiable. I had to pick Monkey & Peanut up from school, and had to monitor homework time. I had to prepare dinner. Somehow, though, it didn't occur to me that I could sit down.

I plopped myself into the brown chair - the beat up, heather-sized leather chair in the corner of our living room. I sat while I thought up the dinner plan. I sat while the girls brought their homework to me in turn. I sat while Puddin' told me stories. I did eventually get up and do more work but I quickly went back and sat some more. I've always loved that ugly little chair but today I adore it.

Break Time

2010-05-13T11:58:00.009-04:00

Puddin': You're adorable.
Mama: Well, you're certainly adorable.
Puddin': We adorable together.

With spring in full gear and summer on the horizon, I've been thinking about some places we might go. Monkey & Peanut are mostly spoken for over the summer with camps and family visits and such. Our travel time is mostly spoken for getting them to all the places they need to be. Still, the idea of a little getaway is appealing. Puddin' apparently thinks so too. Yesterday she spent part of her afternoon singing the word vacation to a made-tune, dancing a wiggly dance, while wearing a pair of large striped sunglasses. I think the girl needs a break.

Pruning

2010-05-12T20:41:00.003-04:00

I am not a trained gardener. I have no skills to speak of and I'm usually pretty giddy when my plants don't die. I have great gardening heritage, though. Both my grandmothers kept beautiful gardens and could make just about anything blossom. I sometimes lean on that heritage and go with my gut. I throw seed in random places. I mix things willy-nilly. I rip up stuff I don’t like. As our yard currently shows, Chance doesn’t generally turn out very good results.

Stan's mom is also a fabulous gardener. Unlike me, Stan learned how to garden. He knows the right things to do to keep our plants in good shape long term. He understands which plants will fare will in our space. And what he doesn't already know he's patient enough to research. That's probably the biggest difference right there: patience. I want to go out and make beauty happen; Stan wants to cultivate it. Most of what looks good in our yard is a result of Stan’s hard work.

This week Chance did a little extra work in our yard. I walked out to the backyard this morning and found an extra bush blocking my path. On closer examination, it turned out to be a very large, very leafy tree branch. We’ve had some wind gusts and apparently one was big enough to take down a healthy limb from our tree. It’s a robust tree so losing one limb isn’t likely to have an impact, and the limb missed the house. So far, it’s a pretty neutral affair.

I had trouble moving the big bushy thing and realized that the fallen limb had gotten entangled with the rhododendron. Uh oh. The rhododendron is not our healthiest bush. It’s gotten bashed by fallen branches a few times and has struggled to come back. I’m rooting hard for the little darling so I was quite concerned. I reached in to gently pry fallen limb from the bush and found two newly broken rhododendron branches. Both branches were previously hit and had been struggling to regain life. Previously they seemed to be winning the slow battle so I wasn’t willing to prune them, even though I knew I should. Here, in one swift move, Chance did the pruning I couldn’t bring myself to do.

Our yard has a smaller, but much healthier rhododendron and I have another reason to continue my haphazard gardening ways. I’m going to really enjoy those blooms.

The Politics of Dennis Moore

2010-05-11T17:32:00.005-04:00

[If you find yourself at a loss, go to youtube.com and watch Dennis Moore parts 1&2. This is part three and makes a little more sense with all in place.]

Stan and I have been watching a lot of Monty Python over the past year. This sketch had us in tears and it has come to mind many times over the past months: Financial meltdown, health care debate, and now the Grecian debt crisis and the precarious state of the Euro. Should the people of Greece suffer because their governors made bad decisions? If Germany has money because of wise decisions, then how much of their practice (& hopefully wisdom) do they get to impart as they bail out Greece, Spain & Portugal? I'm quite glad I'm not a global economist right now.

Even in our own conversations at home we're facing similar themes. Monkey wants to give away every pencil and eraser we have because some of her classmates are running out. Someone said they don't have a glue stick so she wants me to buy more so she can give them away. She also doesn't understand why someone doesn't take the neighborhood homeless lady in to live with them. How do we keep the spark of compassion alive while we try to explain the complicated structures of responsibility and consequences of actions? This redistribution of wealth is very complicated.

Chariot Gypsy

2010-05-10T14:36:00.003-04:00

Last weekend was far too busy, just like most of the school year. On Tuesday I took a day off. I didn't leave my house all day and I didn't clean or straighten a darn thing.

I started my day outside with small bits of gardening. I potted some plants folks have given us over the past two years. [We really can be trusted with plants, I promise! and we're much better at tending to the kids.] I went after a few weeds. I put up a rock border on the flower bed. Then I attacked the ivy that has been choking our rhododendron and crowding my periwinkle. It felt amazingly good to bring order to my yard, and to put boundaries on my world. (It would be even more wonderful to do that with my internal world but I'll take the progress where I can get it.)

Around 5:00 I decided I was done. I grabbed a glass of wine for myself and a sippy cup of juice for Puddin'. Puddin' happily dug in her dirt pile and drew with chalk. I listened to the birds and reveled in the breeze. We rolled in the grass, played hop-scotch, blew bubbles, and did other giggly things. It was a wonderfully clear and relaxing afternoon. This wine perfectly matched the atmosphere.

Chariot Gypsy 2008 has plenty of jammy fruit, but is not overpoweringly sweet. Think dark cherry with hints of strawberry, very little wood or mineral flavor. It's tannic but not uncomfortably so. The alcohol content was a little high for the adult in charge but I sipped slowly and didn't operate any heavy machinery.

Stan came home to find us still on the carport sipping our drinks, with evidence of our relaxation strewn all around us. He grabbed a drink of his own and sat down to join us. A huge point in Gypsy's favor is that Stan didn't get a headache.

You can find your own bottle for about $5 at Trader Joe's. If you don't have a Trader Joe's, consider moving - or come to visit me since I'll be stocking up for the summer.

[For the record, I recently went on a cheap-wine-buying binge at Trader Joe's. You'll probably be hearing about a lot of these wines. It's hard to find cheap bottles with personality that don't give headaches. TJ's is the best source I know. Don't tell them though - I wouldn't want them to get a big head.]

What happened to my blues?

2010-04-29T09:25:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was one of my melancholy days. I wrote for a while and reflected on the ways my view of the blues has changed over the years. I came up with some pretty good insights for myself and I think I wrote them fairly eloquently. I even found this beautiful picture, which illustrates my melancholy quite accurately. You'll notice that none of that is here ...

blogger was not behaving yesterday so I couldn't get the text to save. Then, while I was on another website trying to find answers, my page disappeared. I'm not sure if blogger gave up on me or whether my subconscious hit a button. Either way, the thoughts are gone out into the abyss.

I hope you enjoy the picture and that you enjoy a restful weekend, full of things that bring deep peace.

3.14 and so forth

2010-04-20T09:17:00.006-04:00

This morning Stan put on his pi shirt and I said "maybe I should make a pie." [side note: Stan's reply was "make it square and we can say πr²." We're so geeky.] None of the kids were up yet so I'm pretty sure we weren't overheard. Fast forward a few hours and Puddin' is playing with the plastic food in her grocery cart. She turned a purple star into a "hot chocolate pie cake." Hmmmm. & Mmmmm. The spirit of pi/pie has entered our home and will not leave until we have offered and eaten sacrifices. Now comes the big decision - chocolate or berry?

The picture, by the way, is from last summer. I bought a carton of pie cherries from a farmer's market on a whim and then whipped up a recipe of my own. It was the first pie I'd ever made completely from scratch. It was mighty tasty and I was darn proud. That was the moment I converted to the holy order of pie. All hail the almighty π.

postscript: I finally settled on a chocolate banana pudding pie with graham cracker crust.

Growth Spurts

2010-04-14T07:43:00.005-04:00

Mama: Puddin', you're such a big girl.
Puddin': No, I not.
Mama: You're not? What are you?
Puddin': I just Puddin'.

Puddin' is growing up fast, just as toddlers normally do. Stan and I feel pretty confident in our ability to deal with this. The other two, however, are a different story.

We recently moved Monkey up to the next size in jeans and Peanut isn't far behind. Both of them are to shopping at the same shoe stores I do. And they're hitting new emotional milestones too. They've outgrown most of our child-rearing knowledge so Stan and I need to go back to school.

Do you know any good books on the emotional/social development of preteens? What are your favorite parenting resources?

Ready to Run

2010-04-12T16:00:00.004-04:00

Puddin' has discovered a new game: on our walks to and from the school she calls out "run please" and we all run (at a toddler pace.) Then when she's ready she calls out "walk please" and we diligently comply. She's also excitedly practicing stairs on her own and climbing much more than before. She wants to take the long route, preferably the one that I'm not taking. This is all very good news.

Puddin' is over-the-top verbal. She can say pretty much anything she thinks of - and she thinks of a lot of things. Her gross motor skills have been quite lacking, however. She hasn't shown much interest in exploring, climbing, dancing, jumping, or any other toddler movements. She'd gladly talk about them and even sing you a song about them. She'll sit and read many books about such joys. Now she's starting to finally take some risks.

It's a big mental shift for me to change the way I interact with Puddin'. We do lots of verbal things, obviously, and much of my day she and I putter with our projects in parallel. To get her the kind of space and freedom she needs I have to choose different spaces and actions. (Somehow it no longer seems fair to put her in the stroller while I run.) I'm trying hard to balance the various needs but Puddin' is still yearning for more space and stimulation.

While I work on solutions, my own body is crying out for space and stimulation too. The weather is gorgeous. There's more light. After months of being stuck inside with annoying exercise dvds I can finally do exercise in ways that feel more fulfilling and natural to me. I'm not sure how to get enough time to do all that for both me and the littlest darling. I'm worried that by the time I come up with the solution the weather will have turned sweaty and sour. In the meantime, I'm learning to love Puddin's little game. It's not great exertion but she's a very fun exercise buddy.

Dada on airplane

2010-03-20T20:04:00.006-04:00

Stan is on the other coast this week. After seeing him off at the airport earlier today, Puddin' and I had a mostly uneventful day. We laughed and played and read books, with only a few minor meltdowns. After her bath, Puddin' resisted going to bed, screaming loud and long. When I went in to check on her I asked if she was sad. "Yeah. I sad because I so sad." "Do you miss the rest of the family?" "Dada on airplane. Not here." We took a minute to pray for Stan, for Puddin', and for Monkey & Peanut who are at their mom's this weekend. Afterwards, Puddin' lay down and asked me to tuck her blanket around her. I wish I could be comforted by something so simple.

I'm single-mom this week, which has me a tad bit stressed. This weekend I just have Puddin' to distract me. Then on Monday, Monkey & Peanut come back to our house and we go back to the usual weekly pattern. On a normal day, I race through all the kid and house stuff and then Stan gets home just about the time my energy (or patience, or sanity) is about to run out. The kids run to greet him, he rushes to kiss me, and everything turns out just fine. I'm really going to miss those kisses.

Mostly likely things will still be just fine - we've got strong relationships and good routines here - but something is missing when Stan's not here. He's steady and strong. He keeps his cool long after I've run out of steam. He sees humor even when things aren't going according to plan. If only he didn't have to go away I think I could handle this situation just fine.

Hope it's a great trip, honey, but hurry home.

Normal

2010-03-16T10:30:00.004-04:00

Stan is headed off to the West Coast for business soon. When he travels we usually offer Monkey & Peanut's mom extra time with them. (I don't mind caring for them alone so it's mostly for courtesy.) It took a while for her to respond to the offer so I found myself running through possible scenarios of what the week could look like for me.

While custody for the near future was still in limbo, I had reason to plan an emergency trip down South. My grandmother had a serious stroke and was initially given very little chance of recovery. The cousins are scattered around the globe and we each made plans to get back to the homestead as quickly as possible. Granny is doing better than expected, though, and might stabilize. The trip plans are ready to initiate at a moment's notice but on hold. Meanwhile, Monkey & Peanut's mom has decided not to take any extra time during Stan's upcoming trip. After facing so many possible changes to the routine, I'm going forward with business as usual.

Normal has returned. In one sense I'm enjoying it. I like knowing what to expect and how to organize my day and week. All three girls thrive when their environment is stable so there's great benefit to keeping things the same. On the other hand, I was looking forward to a change and some possible adventure. Granny isn't out of the woods so the trip South could still happen. Even under sad circumstances there would be great joy in seeing everyone again. And if Granny passes while Stan is out of town there's a whole other layer of adventure - road trip with all three girls and fights with the government travel office to get Stan where he needs to be.

The fact that we're in normal mode when there are things up in the air shows just how illusory "normal" is. There's always the chance of unexpected. We can never really know how to organize the days. I find great comfort in that illusion. And at the same time, I find promise in the possibility that things will not go the way I imagine.

Gifts

2010-03-02T09:55:00.007-05:00

We have a lot of birthdays and an anniversary coming up in the next month so we're thinking a lot about gifts. One of those birthdays happens to be mine and I'm often the one organizing the gifts. Monkey sat before me one day quiet, with a wrinkled brow, and finally managed to say that she just didn't know how she would get me a present for my birthday. I explained to her that what I most want is time with her. I want to have fun together, play games, talk, and enjoy each other.

I'm pretty satisfied with my number of possessions and there are very few things I desire. (If anything, I need to purge.) There are lots of non-things I desire, though. I want to be known and accepted. I want to be worth noticing. I long for more time with people that I love. And for one day each year, I want the world to revolve around me (but I'm willing to share with other folks who share my birthday.) Rather than have folks spend their money on me, I'd much rather they spend their time. Then again, time is such a precious commodity, am I really willing to ask folks to part with that costly a gift?

This week I ended up with more Monkey & Peanut time than usual. I tried to think of that time in the same terms as the good gift of time that I desire. Their mom got sick so they missed their usual weeknight with her. They were frustrated, angry, disappointed, and threw their feelings in my direction. Their dad had a busy week with evenings out of the house. They were confused, worried and lonely. They vented at me. We had lots of time but because they were missing time with the most beloved people in their lives, we weren't able to find much joy together. We had time but not a whole lot of love.

We've got a big family weekend of togetherness coming up. I have grand visions of snuggling on the couch, playing boardgames, art projects, and lots of other ways to spend happy time together. I value time so highly that I often assume it alone can fix just about anything. I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that this isn't true. Time without deep love feels like empty space.

I can ask people for their time. It's a measurable commodity that can be divided up and doled out, or not. I don't think I can ask people for their love though. Maybe I should just stick to flowers.

Trouble In Mind

2010-02-23T09:47:00.008-05:00

Today I have the urge to make trouble. I want to make messes instead of cleaning them. I want to try something new. I want a day that is spontaneous, creative and preferably childlike.

Today is IHOP's National Pancake Day. A free short stack might help ease the urge. Sitting at the restaurant doing a crossword would be a nice addition. I'm not sure it's quite the right activity, though. The messy quotient is way too low.

The soft-play room at the rec center would certainly be child-like. Puddin' would have a blast climbing, bouncing, and throwing herself on the floor. Somewhere around here I think we have some coupons for paint-your-own pottery. Certainly creative and messy, especially with a toddler. There are far more museums, galleries, and exhibits than I can count. So many options and yet nothing seems quite right. I think the trouble is with me.

Being wife and mother is sometimes in conflict with my wanderlust. There are chores to do, meals to plan, schedules to keep. There are also roads I haven't driven, hills I haven't hiked, places I haven't visited. In the face of a world waiting for discovery, how much does the laundry really matter? In the face of cold, naked children, how relevant is the bigger world?

Today I'll probably choose to be the responsible adult. I've got people counting on me, afterall. But if you see my cold, naked children walking themselves to school please give me a call.

Espiral Vinho Verde

2010-02-23T09:13:00.003-05:00

I'm not too familiar with Portuguese wines so this bottle, a hostess gift, has been sitting in our basement "cellar" for a few months. We just didn't know what to do with it. Last week I planned a menu of Mojito Salmon and Quinoa and remembered to put a wine in the fridge early enough for it to chill properly. Looking over my choices I figured that my menu and Portugal had enough commonalities that it was worth a shot. (Not very sophisticated wine pairing, I admit, but sometimes you just have to take a stab in the dark.)

I opened the bottle and heard a little pop. Hmm. That was not what I was expecting. Was that supposed to happen or did the wine go bad? This is one of those moments when I'm faced with just how little I know about the wine world. It sure is a lot of fun but sometimes it makes me feel like a simpleton.

Turns out the pop was supposed to be there. Vinho Verde is native to the Minho region in Northern Portugal. The wines are fresh and vibrant and are meant to be drunk within the year. The name means "green wine" which refers to character rather than color. They are lightly sparkling, but not quite enough to qualify for the official semi-sparkling label. They also have a naturally low alcohol content.

Stan and I found Espiral to be bright and brassy. It had tropical fruit tones, focusing on passion fruit. The fruits matched nicely with the mint and lime in the salmon and the effervescence added another layer of enjoyment to the occasion. It was a small moment of summer in the midst of our snow-covered landscape. We'll likely be enjoying this wine again when the heat hits us. Espiral can be found at your local Trader Joe's for an obnoxiously low price. For the record, the Quinoa and Mojito Salmon came from there too so you can replicate the whole experience if you like. The mojito part of the meal was not quite as advertised - tasty but not very mojito - so next time we'll probably have Mojito ingredients on hand for after dinner. When the wine is so light on the alcohol, it leaves room for that extra minty splurge.

Seebrich Pinot Noir Rosé 2006

2010-02-15T21:18:00.004-05:00

At my last wine job we were routinely given cases of overstock wines to take home free. More often than not it was high quality German Riesling (and other whites) that were a vintage or two past. I know plenty of folks who drink Riesling - especially the good stuff - but we tend to sip rather than gulp so I still haven't exhausted my stock. This weekend I decided to dip into the stash for a Valentine appropriate wine and came up with a rosé of Pinot Noir by Seebrich. In Germany the grape is called Spätburgunder and rosé is translated Weißherbst.

As I'm exposed to more non-zinfandel versions, I'm starting to overcome my reticence regarding rosés. I still don't have high expectations, though, and this bottle was relatively old. Rosés are generally meant to be drunk while they are fresh and new. Despite the years in the bottle and years in my basement, the wine held up well and took me by surprise.

It's aroma carries a light linen scent and it's color is that of roses and honey. The wine sits elegantly on my tongue, slowly doling out sweet cherry and green apple flavors, with just enough tannin to bring balance. It is decadent enough to be dessert without overwhelming sweetness or cloying finish.

On this particular bottle there's a sticker on the back saying "No Retail Value." That usually means the wine wasn't generally imported and this was probably a sample. I wanted to know if I could expect to find more of this somewhere and what kind of price range to expect. The Seebrich website mentions Spätburgunder Weißherbst as a small portion of their offerings but doesn't give any indication whether or not they are exported. My brief search led to mostly German language websites so I have a feeling it'll be quite some time before I get to taste it again.

One final note, according to Wikipedia, German Pinot noir ("Rhenish") is mentioned several times in Shakesperean plays as a highly prized wine. Who can argue with the bard? I hope you get the chance to try some soon.

Happy Valentines

2010-02-13T08:39:00.031-05:00

I've done so much talking and bonding while snowed in this week that I've run out of things to say.

Instead, I'll turn the post over to my valentines - each of whom I love very much, despite too many days in close quarters.

Snowy Bliss

2010-02-03T09:00:00.003-05:00

I'm not a big fan of snow since wet and cold don't do good things for my disposition. This winter, however, I'm finding new appreciation for the fluff.

We live below the snow belt so we don't deal with it super often. That means that none of us do too well driving 'round in the stuff and our local governments aren't too practiced at snow cleanup. If it snows more than 6 inches we're stuck in the house. If it gets to a foot we're stuck for at least two days. The more snow, the longer we sit in our house. Here comes the epiphany: if there's too much snow, then the meetings get canceled. If the roads are dangerous then I can't be expected to run errands. If school is out then I don't need to monitor homework time. Suddenly, my day is blissfully empty and I can play with my family, who are also snowed in with me.

This storm 'round Monkey & Peanut are riding it out at their mom's house. We sent them off with backpacks full of fun and enlightenment. They've also got winter-wear and cardboard for sledding so they shouldn't run out of stuff to do anytime soon. As much as I would love to have with them here at our house, I'm loving the lack of fighting, bickering, whining, tattling and other sisterly love that they carry with them. I miss them but when I'm not playing referee, there's even more time for bliss.

Stan, Puddin' and I are each toodling around the house accomplishing things. (Toddler toodling is very cute.) I'm 95% done with a project that has hung over my head for nearly 3 years, and that was with the last throws of errands and chauffeuring this morning, before the snow started in earnest. Just think what else I'll be able to knock through this weekend! Of course, I'll be out there doing my share of shoveling too, but I'm ignoring that for the sake of my grand vision.

The snow/rain boots that I ordered way too late in the season won't be here in time so I'll be out there shoveling while wearing my grungiest struttin' boots. "These boots were made for walkin' but that's not all they'll do ..." The to-do list that taunts me is in for a swift kick in the butt, from my much-too-fancy boots.

Because I said so

2010-01-29T21:27:00.004-05:00

My kids are begging for homework. How fabulous is that?

Today was a teacher work day so we tried to sleep late. (The cat came within inches of her beautiful, furry life for the yowling that woke us all.) By the time Stan left for work the kids were already starting to fight. ugh. Never start fighting when I haven't had enough coffee. I decided the arguing told me two things: they needed time apart and they needed structure. I sent them each to a different section of the house to clean for 20 minutes. They went without arguing or complaining. (See, I knew they needed time apart.) After some great cleaning, which they were quite proud of, I gave them their homework for the day. "Homework? Why?!" "Because I want you to." "ugh." They had to read any book of their choice (except toddler books) for 20 minutes. They needed to do 20 minutes of math on their level. They had to do 20 minutes of science play. All of this, before 3 p.m. "That's it? and really that long to do it?" "That's all I ask."

Each of them spent about at least 30 minutes doing math games online. The had a blast with the electronics kit, playing much longer than 20 minutes. And as usual, they read past the timer because the book was just so good. "This has been so fun! I want more homework tomorrow!"

I didn't pull out anything new today. These are things they know are always available to them, yet they are reluctant to choose them. Peanut is begging for more assignments but the truth is, she is free to choose them at her own will, anytime she wishes. The eternal question that haunts all parents: why won't they just do what they know is good for them, especially when they know they'll enjoy the results?

Then I think about my own week. I spent over an hour watching a crime drama that wasn't totally thrilling, rather than doing housework I know I'd be proud of. I spent Tuesday night on the computer and watching tv at the same time. The tv volume was low enough that I had no idea what was really going on, and I wasn't totally engaged in the game I was playing. I didn't quit either one, though. Each day, I put off practicing guitar so that I never get any better but I don't like picking it up just to play because I'm not good enough.

Maybe someday I'll get it right. Someday I'll value my own time enough to spend it well. Maybe I'll be setting a glorious example before they move out of the house. In the meantime, how much "homework" can I dish out before they catch on?

Kids, Chemistry, & Plenty of Boom

2010-01-21T21:58:00.003-05:00

We're in the final countdown to Peanut's birthday. This girl starts counting as soon as she hears the first Christmas carol so by the time the day arrives the buildup is quite intense. Peanut is prone to histrionics anyway so the extra dose for her birthday makes life almost unbearable for her: it's either too, too good to take in or too, too awful to face. Lord help us when she gets to middle school and the real drama begins.

Peanut chose a science theme for her party this year so Stan and I are hosting a gaggle of junior scientists. We'll be doing some of the standard vinegar/baking soda stuff in the kitchen, as well as playing with an electronics kit and making microscope slides. Each scientist will have a kit including test tube, eye dropper, magnifying glass, etc. I had a great time this afternoon testing some of the possible experiments and generally playing with my kids' toys. [When was the last time you roasted marshmallows in the microwave? Do you remember what to do with resistors?]

There are so many good experiments to do but at the same time, most of my resources have the same small bunch of ideas. Stan and I would love to break open their little minds to new questions. There are lots of smart folks out there in the wide, wide, web so my question to you, dear friends, is this: what is your favorite kid-friendly (2nd grade) science activity?

The Artful Dodger

2010-01-15T21:21:00.005-05:00

All week long I've been fighting the urge to do something creative in favor of working on the momentous (and never-ending) list of to-dos. Kid antics and hectic schedules have been tough on me this week. I've been tense, grumpy, and highly reactive. This morning I reached the point where I was ready to run for the hills. [In my case, running for the hills usually means a spontaneous, day-long, solo hike in the foothills not too far away.] It's too cold for the hills, though, and besides - there's that list to consider. Instead I spent about an hour making music. I wasn't practicing for anything, just playing for the joy of it. With just Puddin' and me in the house I sang at the top of my lungs. I changed rhythms and melodies. I sang music to suit my mood. For the first time in months I played guitar for myself rather than as my teacher prescribed, and was surprised at how how much my playing has changed. I approached songs with much more confidence and grace than before. I felt much more hopeful regarding my skill and went away with new zeal to practice. My piano skills are still what they were but all in good time.

I put off creativity for a week because I had stuff to do. I've been ill-at-ease and unable to cope with whatever has Monkey & Peanut ramped up. I was gearing up for war with the kids all weekend, feeling hopeless and incapable of parenting. I finally prioritized art and found enough strength to stay and love my family. I want to believe that I'll remember this next time - or better yet, that I'll keep creativity high enough in the priorities in the first place. History is not on my side with this one, but a girl can change, right?

The Nefarious Diaper

2010-01-11T21:36:00.009-05:00

We had a sitter at our house tonight while I was at my guitar lesson. Puddin' started clinging to me rather tightly when the sitter came in the door, even though she's had many good experiences with sitters, and this one in particular. As I left, she was letting Peanut snuggle and comfort her for much longer than usual. According to the sitter, the eye-rubbing Puddin' went down to bed almost as soon as I left.

Fast forward 90 minutes: The sitter went home, and I went into Puddin's room to see if her blanket was on her. I got to the crib and was greeted with a bright, cheerful "Hi Mama!" She stood up, continuously saying my name and "Mama coat off." Then she said "I want diaper change." I checked the diaper but didn't notice anything. I figure she's got her reasons so I lay her down on the changing table. Puddin' calls out "Cookie Monster off." I look at the barely wet diaper and ask "is that why you wanted a diaper change?" She smiled, said "uh-huh," then checked to see what character I was putting on. (Elmo was approved.)

I put her back in her crib, she turned over as if to sleep, and I haven't heard a peep. I wonder, though, whether she's still awake and plotting her next coup.

Rex Goliath Cabernet

2010-01-06T22:01:00.005-05:00

I'm a big fan of red wine. I'm also a big fan of cheap. Those two things together can be a nasty headache but there are wine makers who are able to combine them to great affect. In recent years I've developed a slight wine snobbery and have eschewed the very cheap bottles that used to be my staples. I told myself that I'm older, wiser, and deserve better wine. I recently started wonder, though, if those cheap wines were actually any good or if I had deluded myself. I decided to try them again.

My first stop was Rex Goliath Cabernet Sauvignon. This wine features the picture and story of a 47 pound rooster that used to be part of a Texas circus. The wine doesn't have a vintage, which is highly suspicious. The website doesn't offer any explanation, either. It is to be accepted that they make wine, you know next to nothing about it, and you will drink it. My snobby-sense was tingling. I took a few sips of the wine and found a very immature but still quite pleasant experience. It was very jammy and bright. It had a vibrancy that helped me perk up at the end of a long day. I kept looking for the thing that had to be wrong with it and instead found fun. I told my snobby-sense to shut up. The wine still hadn't passed the ultimate cheap wine test, though. Would this give Stan a headache? I didn't want to ask him to drink it since I was pretty sure it was going to cause him trouble. Stan tried it of his own accord (so glad I didn't tell him my reservations) and Rex Goliath passed with flying colors!

It feels pretty good to know that even in the beginning of my wine studies I was making good choices. On the other hand, it brings home for me again the difficult question of how much a good thing is worth. If I can find a good bottle for under $10 and a great one for $15, it becomes much more difficult to justify buying the excellent ones at their lofty prices. Maybe I'm missing something here, but in the meantime I can afford to splurge for fabulous food to go with my yummy cheap wine.

Cycles Gladiator

2009-12-29T20:39:00.005-05:00

Cycles Gladiator
Chardonnay 2006
Central Coast
about $10

It's been ages since I reviewed any wines. I've said it many times in this blog but in case you missed it, it was a really busy fall! I've certainly drunk my fair share of wines this fall but most evenings I enjoyed them for the bliss they brought and not for any complexity. After a little vacation - and with every candle in the house adding calming ambiance - I finally feel up to the task of writing a review.

Good little wine snob that I am, I picked this wine for the label. The label uses whimsical art from the late 19th century, true to the spirit of the times. The wine makers would like you to believe that that same spirit is encapsulated in the wine. The label also happens to include a naked woman, which got this wine banned in the state of Alabama. So for all my family down there in Alabama, this one's for you!

Cycles has classic peach and blossom flavors often found in California Chardonnay but this one is incredibly light. Since the wine did not seem to touch any oak, the subtle tastes are able to sparkle. We had it with pork chops cooked in pear jelly (made by Pete and Anne: Thanks again!) and it matched the feathery sweet flavors nicely. Sitting around after dinner sipping gently, the wine doesn't quite hold up to the evening. It would, however, be delightful sitting on the porch in August - especially in Alabama.

A Merry Little Christmas

2009-12-24T20:49:00.006-05:00

Monkey & Peanut are up North with their mom for the Holidays while Stan, Puddin' and I are down South enjoying a very mellow Christmas. There is abundant peace and goodwill around us and very little Christmas hype. In some ways it feels a little too calm to be Christmas, or maybe even anti-climactic.

After a hectic fall, we've all been looking forward to a break. This past weekend we were given a bigger break than we dreamed of. After Monkey's ballet recital Friday night (she did so well! No stage fright, managed to smile a little, and mostly remembered her moves.) the blizzard started. We woke up Saturday morning to 6 inches of snow and no sign of stopping. After a call to Nana's, we realized that the extended family Christmas present exchange was not going to happen that day since they had more snow than we did. (Luckily, Nana & Papa had the foresight to drop off presents with us after the recital. We've all been really excited for Monkey & Peanut to get their gifts.) All morning long we watched the snow pile up and puttered about the house with tea and hot chocolate. After lunch we went ahead with present opening, putting family on speaker phone as needed. It was actually a lot of fun to have just our quintet and take our time enjoying and exploring. We laughed and played and had a grand ole time until all the presents were open. Then we laughed and played some more.

Sunday morning the snow had finally stopped but had left us a foot and a half of fluffy white. The snow plows were no where in sight so we were house bound for another day. Monkey & Peanut finally got up the nerve to brave the cold and went outside to bury their heads in the snow. (Honestly. They were playing "ostrich.") Stan started shoveling while I watched from the warmth of my teacup. Once again, we spent the day playing and talking. We cooked and baked. We talked about Advent and what Christmas means to us this year. We went to bed satisfied.

By Monday afternoon, when Monkey & Peanut's mom picked them up for the winter break, it felt sad to break up our little gang. Three days together with no errands or projects was a tremendous blessing. More than a blessing, it was everything I had asked for for Christmas - rest and peace.

So here I am, about to celebrate Christmas proper, and feeling too spoiled to ask for anything more. I hope that each of you will find that joy and satisfaction as you go through your own holiday season.

Flashback

2009-12-09T20:23:00.008-05:00

Stan was out this evening so I ran the show solo. Monkey & Peanut each had long lists of things to accomplish before bedtime so I was dreading the evening. They rose to the task, though. Each accomplished her list and had extra time to do something freely chosen. Extra time is elusive in this house so for both to find some borders on miraculous.

I finally got all three girls tucked in, lights out, and then had quite a flashback: Now that I've got the kids down, what am I going to do until the parents get home? That's right folks, standing there in my very own kitchen, after putting my own kids to bed, I thought for one fleeting moment that I was the babysitter.

I haven't yet decided what this says about my mental state.

Me and My Monkey

2009-11-30T16:34:00.004-05:00

Community and friendship are important parts of being human. I've struggled much of my life to find good solid friendships and community where I feel like I have a true place or purpose. Stan has had some of that struggle, although he's also had more success than me. Here in the midst of life with three kids, we've barely got time to manage our own relationship so friendships are becoming increasingly nebulous. Recognizing that neither of us can meet all of the other's relational needs, we often talk about prioritizing friends but it's still not happening. For me, part of that is time but in all honesty, part of it is on purpose. The introvert in me doesn't want to handle the stress of exerting myself. The kid in me still feels scarred from years of being rejected. I thought for sure I'd be over this by now.

Monkey is having friend problems too. Last year some of the people she liked chose not to be her friends anymore but it was ok because she was able to develop some new, and incredibly close, friendships. The two girls she palled around with were delightful people who helped her try new things. They were true friends and didn't pull any of the nasty mind-games that girls that age are prone to. This year neither girl is in her class (one isn't at the school) and she's had to start from scratch in the search for pals. The girls in her class have all paired off into besties and there's no room for Monkey. She's working hard on her friendship skills and even got up the guts to ask a few of them if she could be their friends. They said no. She's tried every thing that any of us can think of and still finds herself without friends, with more than half the school year left to go.

The other day Monkey came home mopey. She was picking on both her sisters, which gave me a clue that maybe something wasn't right. After chatting for a little bit, she said "I don't think I can learn well if I don't have any friends. Friends are a big part of what we do at school and how we learn." The poor dear. The sweet, sweet, lovable darling. I scooped her into my lap and the two of us sat there bewildered and teary-eyed for a little while. I didn't have any way of answering that kind of pain.

There are lots of things that I choose to do, not necessarily for myself but because it sets a good example for the kids. I despise carrots but I try to eat them when they're on my plate. I sometimes take them out with me when I go running, even when it limits my choices. I get up and clean the house even if I don't feel like it. I'm starting to wonder if prioritizing my friends might fit in that category too. Is there a way that overcoming my own friendship fears can help Monkey?

Music and Poetry

2009-11-20T20:32:00.003-05:00

I have very fond memories of Julie Andrews' voice. There's something about her voice that means comfort and warmth. I want to believe that it's from more than just The Sound of Music but most likely my impression is from watching that movie over and over again, trying to mimic the sounds, and wondering if my life would ever be so adventurous and glamorous. The other day I was listening to the radio and heard that Julie Andrews and her daughter would be on the show the next hour, talking about their new children's poetry book. Yay!

I enjoyed listening to Ms. Andrews and her daughter Emma read poetry and tell stories. Some of the poems were wonderfully familiar and some were deliciously new to me. I was so caught up that I went online to Amazon to find the book. Then, in the midst of their storytelling, Ms. Andrews said something that made me catch my breath. She was talking of how poetry became so important to her, that it was a joy and passion of her father and a way of connecting with him, especially after her parents divorced. The interviewer asked Ms. Andrews if she ever became close with her stepfather and the reply was something along the lines of "no. He taught me to sing, but we never became close because that would have been betraying my father." Her stepfather taught her to sing - and singing has been the essence of her whole life and career - but she would not allow a close relationship with him because to do so would have signaled betrayal.

I hope, I hope, I hope that those words are never said about me. Given our custody schedule, Monkey and Peanut spend more time with me than they do their mother. Their lives will undoubtedly be influenced by my actions. I work hard to love them wholeheartedly, as if they were my own. I make the same kind of sacrifices for them that I make for Puddin'. Sometimes we get along swimmingly and sometimes we fight but, they are my children, regardless of what the genes say. So when I hear a line like the one Ms. Andrews uttered, I feel scared. What if the good will we have now doesn't last? Stan and I work hard to communicate that there is room for lots of people to love them and often reiterate that I am not looking to replace their mom. They actually call me their "extra mom." But I know that their mom sometimes feels threatened. She feels left out when I'm able to do special things with them or when I'm there to lead them through a milestone. Sometimes she says things to Monkey & Peanut that causes them feel guilty or that they feel pressures them to choose her over me. All I can do is keep loving them and hope that when they are old enough they can look back and see that there is enough love to go around.

There's an irony in this for me: Ms. Andrews' most iconic role was that of a stepmother, and a darned good one, too. In stepmom lore the woman is always sainted or wicked - there is no neutral or halfway for stepmoms. The Sound of Music presents the archtype for saintly stepmothering. So many women feel pressured and defeated by this imagery and yet the actress who played it had rejected that person in her own life. Her words have unearthed in me a vulnerability that I don't like to look at.

Of course, it goes without saying that I don't know Ms. Andrews or the circumstances of her growing up years. I don't want to judge her. In fact, I'm still as enamored as ever with her voice, I'm still hankering after the poetry book, and I have an irrepressible urge to watch The Sound of Music.

Just what I wanted

2009-11-18T21:30:00.007-05:00

Stan had a meeting tonight so in order to have family dinner all together it had to be early - no problem. 2 of the 3 kids had to visit the pediatrician this afternoon - hmmm, this complicates things just a little. Around 3 p.m. I suddenly realized I needed to leave immediately in order to go get gas, pick up the kids, and rush to the doctor's office. I decided to grab some extra books for Monkey & Peanut so they'd have everything they needed to finish their homework during the expected long wait. I checked the diaper bag to make sure there was something to entertain Puddin' and rushed out the door, with a shocked and unhappy toddler. (Transition is KEY these days and she didn't get what she needed.)

We got to the doctor office on time, having found parking much easier than usual. We were called back just about on schedule but as expected we sat in the small exam room for quite some time. The medical tasks that needed to be done were really quick and easy but that didn't get us seen any faster. By the time we left the office - with one kid pronounced free of ear infections or clogged tubes and the toddler wincing from her swine flu shot - it was already time to get dinner on the table. I made a quick call to the fabulous Chinese restaurant near our house and made a blind stab at the menu in my memory. We got home, jumped out of the van and as soon as we entered the house Monkey and Peanut set the table while I pulled dinner out of the bag and Stan tried to convince Puddin' that food was good enough reason to stop crying.

Whew! We were all sitting down to dinner, starting to check in regarding each other's days when we had two spills in quick succession from the younger two kids. Monkey put it nicely when she said "it's not a crisis, just not what you wanted." So very true. Most of us weren't done yet when Stan jumped up to leave. With quick kisses and goodbyes the chaos ramped up a little more. As soon as Stan was out the door, each child found her own way to flip out. Peanut started arguing and talking back. That girl has enough sass in her for all three kids and I don't have the patience for any of it. I sent her to her room with the mandate to finish homework (our long doctor office wait wasn't quite long enough) and to calm down. Then I sent Monkey off to her work space in the basement to finish her own work. She hadn't been down there long when I started to hear anxious calls and cries from downstairs. I peeked in long enough to make sure she wasn't hurt and then remind her that she needs to actually come get me rather than scream across the house. Instead, she simply broke into hysterics. Meanwhile, Puddin' was feeling pain from her shot, anxious because of the chaos in the house, and had been robbed of transition yet again this afternoon. I sat on the floor and built towers for her to knock down and she started to come out of her funk. Monkey finally got up enough nerve to come upstairs and tell me that she found a bug on her back pack. She was afraid to walk by it so she couldn't come upstairs to talk to me. She didn't want to touch her back pack even after it had hopped away just in case. She couldn't possibly do her homework and now she was stuck! "Your foot alone is ten times bigger than the bug." "The bug is worried about the giant that's coming to attack it." "I don't know of a single bug in our neighborhood that could do you any real harm." Each time I'd have her almost calm she'd work herself into a frenzy again. After about 5 minutes of this she finally felt brave enough to face the bug - this time with shoes on. During all this, Peanut finished her homework but wouldn't admit it so she didn't have to come talk to me. I finally got her out of her room and told her that the original thing she was fighting me about was only annoying but talking back - that makes me mad. Talking back to any of your parents is never an acceptable option. We agreed on a consequence of written apology, complete with full sentences, correct capitalization and punctuation.

All three kids were finally back in control and emotionally stable. We were in the home stretch now - I just had to get them clean, ready for bed and down for the night. After showers, Peanut wanted rollers in her hair and Monkey needed some help reviewing for two tests. Puddin', of course, just wanted to be where the action was. So there we were, all four of us crowded into a tiny bathroom barely big enough for two - while I dried and rolled Peanut's hair, ran multiplication facts and weather instruments with Monkey, and babbled with Puddin'. As we were finishing all this (just barely in time for the assigned bed time) it occurred to me that this is the kind of moment that kids remember. It was hectic and vibrant, but in the end it was good. There we were, each child getting a need met and able to meet someone else's need too. Each of us was actively engaged in life together. I never would have guessed it at the start of this afternoon but this evening proved to be one of my prouder moments as a mom.