this plus that

On our weekly library trips, Puddin' and I have a routine. She picks out books with recognizable characters - Dora, Blue, Ms. Frizzle, etc. - and I find an equal number of picture books from the stacks. Often, she focuses her attention on the series books and ignores my choices. She'll let us read one as a bedtime story but they aren't her daytime playtime books. Every once in a while, though, I find one that captures her attention. this plus that is one of those books. Here's the trailer:

(Since when do books have trailers? It's an odd world we live in.)

Reading this book with Puddin' this morning I came across the words "good days + bad days = real life" and "once upon a time + happily ever after = pretend." Honestly, we all know that, right? This shouldn't be news but some days I need a reminder. Today, those words smacked me upside the head. Today, whether it's a nine-scoop-ice-cream-cone day or a trip-and-the-scoops-scatter day, it's going to be ok, because it's real.

Crazy Wins

Crazy keeps popping out all over the place, especially in my life. I'm starting to wonder if crazy is normal and sane is aberrant. Neatly controlled utopia is an obvious myth but is it possible to even get close?

I've spent a lot of energy in the past 6 months trying to fight the crazy. It's not going well. The more I fight, the more my routines and relationships are out of sync. There's so much crazy, I just can't handle cleaning. There's so much crazy, I can't be held accountable for what I eat. There's so much crazy, I don't have time for a run. There's so much crazy, I'd better not try to write. I've been so afraid of the crazy - both inside and out - that I stood stock still and let it invade. I've become a crazy zombie, feeding on sane brains, passing on the crazy with each passing day.

You know what? Crazy wins. I give in. Maybe by giving in and admitting that I've gone crazy I can reset the norms and use crazy for good. It's got to be possible, right? Crazy can be good. Crazy can be whimsical and fun. Crazy can be creative. Crazy can be inventive. Crazy can provide new ideas.

So that's my new goal. I'm giving in to the crazy but I'm not giving up. There will be crazy amounts of good in our family life again, as soon as I figure out how  to corral the stuff.

Thanks, Doc.

We had a well-check at the pediatrician today. They called us back almost on time, the nurse did her thing, and we were told the doctor would be right with us. After a long wait, I started to get annoyed - not really annoyed but just enough to wonder whether this is a doctor we want to continue seeing. We finally gave in and started eating our snack. Almost immediately, we heard the knock on the door. "I'm sorry for your long wait. The patient before you presented with a couple issues. He was born with his intestines on the outside."

I stopped chewing for a moment and pondered. The doctor continued, quickly but with attention to detail. He remarked frequently on how polite, well-behaved, and healthy Puddin' was. Our Dear Doctor seemed to find comfort in the unremarkable normality of his current patient. As for me, the assertive, independent behavior that had driven me crazy all morning was shining brilliantly in the glow of normal human development.

I'll never know him, but that unnamed kid was definitely worth thirty minutes of my time. Blessings to you, little guy. I hope you grow up well. With compassionate folks like Dear Doctor looking after you, you've got a good chance.

Joyful Noise

While waiting not-quite-patiently for her favorite show to come on, Puddin' asked me to play "concert" with her. She claimed the keyboard and I brought out my djembe. We ran through a song straight out of Puddin's imagination and then she started ordering me around.

"I'm the leader of this church." (Stan and I are both highly involved in music at our church so that's the context Puddin' knows for live music.)
"Puddin, I want to make decisions about the music too."
"Well, we can both be the leaders."

Puddin' tried a wide variety of keyboard sounds while I banged away on the djembe. Puddin' told me I was probably going to hurt my drum but was pleasantly surprised to hear me say that drums are meant for hitting and loud noises. From that point on, Puddin' drummed.

We tried every percussion instrument in our collection, including the vintage marching drum that lives at our house, courtesy of Papa.

Eventually, I moved to guitar when Puddin' started requesting recognizable songs. When we got to "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," the key I played was higher than Puddin' is used to singing. She sang in her usual range, then cocked her head to the side and tried a different key. She tried yet another and gave me a quizzical look. I modeled the correct key and she joined in merrily, keeping time with the shakers all the while.

As a musical mama, I love seeing my darling take chances with music. As a proud mama, I'm creating mental pictures of what her career in music will look like. Mostly, though, I'm grateful for company in my drum circle today. Thanks for playing with me today, smooch. And thanks to all of you, for letting me brag just a little. Sometimes it's hard to hold all the wonderful inside.

Sick Mama Blues

She's got a fever
and a raspy cough.
Her family did leave her
but there's no day off.

No preschool panties
means she must wash and fold.
The bunnies all roam free,
dust uncontrolled

Who's gonna help out?
She's got the sick mama blues.


This ain't no play date,
an uncommon cold.
She just wants to sleep late
let them do as they're told.

Nature class has let out,
we missed all the fun.
Can't quite stand up right,
but got errands to run.

There's no rest for the weary.
She's got the sick mama blues.

Went out to the food store,
exhausted but done.
Other trips cancelled,
she moves for no one.

Back from the doctor,
infection for sure.
It's not pneumonia,
and drugs bring a cure.

Thank god, hallelujah!
Goodbye sick mama blues.

Wide Open Outer Petals

Once upon a time, back in my college days, some friends and I were sitting around being deep. We sat in an urban garden, looking at early signs of spring while wrapped up tight against the New England cold. We took turns sharing what we found revealed in the world around us. That kind of introspection isn't as easy anymore, what with the noise and the busyness of family life, but the insight of that day still comes back to me each spring.

What I saw that day was a daffodil. The warm colors draw me in and invite me to stop. The wide open petals of the outer layer hold arms wide open, calling out a welcome to anyone and everyone. The closed inner layer adds complexity, privacy, and a space set apart.

Over the past few months, I've been almost silent in the social media world. I've withdrawn from all networks and kept all my words to myself. It turns out that books are far more interesting than Facebook and that there's a lot of navel-gazing on web 2.0 that I just don't care about. In addition, there's been some rough stuff in our family over the past few months that made privacy feel important. In the midst of the current online privacy hullaballoo, social media was a risk I wasn't willing to take, so I closed my outer petals.

Meanwhile, spring has sprung. Daffodils are blooming all over our neighborhood. At our house, we transplanted over 200 daffodil sprouts from their overcrowded spot on the fence line to spacious new homes in garden beds around the yard. I've watched our plants closely, looking for signs that the growing bulbs have all they need to thrive. Most won't bloom this year since they didn't get enough sun last year to store energy. A hearty few, though, have buds. Despite my expectations, our daffodils are blooming.

Recently, I shared with not-so-close friends about a struggle I've been having and found that my openness led to a deeper friendship. Open petals invited connection, sharing, and understanding. I knew this. I've known this for years. Open petals bring nurishment to the inner soul.

So here I am, back online. I still don't know how to navigate the ever-changing world of online privacy but I know that its worthwhile.

A Sign for the Times

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!!

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

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

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

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.