Conversation #1:
Me: Lily, do you want to go see Santa Claus? (said little flippantly)
Lily: What?! Santa is in toooowwwwnnnn?
Me: Yes, he is at the mall. (giggle)
Lily: Santa is in toooowwwwnn?
Me: Yes, would you like to go?
Lily: YES!
Conversation #2:
Ethan (noticing the large Mary and Joseph on our coffee table that my mother made for me this Christmas): You know, Grammy worked really hard on that for us.
Me: Yes, she did.
Ethan: That was really nice of her. She is the best Grammy in the world.
Me: Yes, she is. Would you like to call her and tell her?
Ethan: Yes. (Brings me the phone)
Phone rings.
Ethan: Hello, this is Ethan Dumoulin. May I speak to Terry Greene? Oh, hey Grand-D. I want to speak to you, too, but I need to speak to Grammy. And, ladies come first.
Conversation #3 (told by Sadie's teacher)
Sadie's teacher took Sadie one afternoon to get a milkshake, run a couple of errands and then came to visit at our house. Now, I know this is really strange for some of you reading our blog, but she is our friend, in addition to being Sadie's teacher for the 2nd year. We are very blessed.
They were at the mall, picking up something for teacher. They ran into a fellow student who was in line to see Santa.
Friend: Are you going to talk to Santa?
Sadie: Oh no, I am with Mrs. N. I don't want her to spend her money for me to see Santa.
Conversation #4:
Sadie's second front tooth is loose. Of course, I want that thing out before Christmas, if only to have one child sing "All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth," in front of the video camera on Christmas Eve.
Me: Wonder if Santa and the Tooth Fairy will visit on the same night?
Sadie: Wow! Wouldn't that be awesome!
Me: Yeah.
Sadie: I bet they know each other....I bet they are related!
Me: You know, Sadie, I think you are right!
Lest anyone think my kids are sweet, little darlings...
Quick one-liners made to me by my children:
Ethan: I don't want any more lasagna. Uh, are you listening to me? I said, I don't want any more lasagna.
Sadie: I don't want to (fill in blank with any request I have just made to her).
Lily: Still speaking most lines with a twinge of whine.
We crammed in a lot of Christmas traditions this year:
gingerbread house, baking cookies, live nativity, Christmas program at church, driving around for lights, bags for the homeless, making christmas crafts and ornaments, hosting scout christmas party, hosting rara christmas party, school party (Sadie), pta gifts for preschool (Lily), nutcracker performance with the girls, a planned viewing of "The Grinch", presents purchased and wrapped. Have I forgotten anything?
Maybe I have been in Christmas overdrive this year. Partly due to Jay's parents being in town. But mainly, I think it is to make up for the past two emotionally voided Christmases. I was unable to focus on much more than sadness (her very sick, last Christmas) and grief (the first Christmas without her), despite the hope of Christ. Despite the hope of Christ. How my heart grieves that I write that and how much His does as well.
My remaining to-do list is very long and I remain fixed writing. The washing machine is broken and has been for a week. We head off to the laundromat this morning to do what I am sure is nearly 5 loads. Car, filthy from all the rain, is still crunched from being rear-ended the week of Thanksgiving. The house needs to be picked up, calls made about a work order and one last gift to pick up. The trash (an enormous amount) needs to be taken to the trash, along with the recycling. And, the kids are out of school for the holidays. Should be an interesting day!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Why Santa Claus?
It has become increasingly noticeable that many Christians are shedding the image of Santa Claus from their Christmas celebrations. I have heard all the reasons as to why - it takes away from the intent of the holiday, only God gives in abundance, materialism is evil to Christian living, it creates a false idol, etc., etc., etc. Unfortunately, many times this opinion is given with some piousness leaving the listener feeling very uncomfortable with her choice to include Santa Claus in her Christmas traditions. I believe even more so, that many Christians are completely unaware of the original Saint behind Santa Claus and how his life so embodied the spirit of Christ. It is with this spirit that my family celebrates Christmas and gives to one another and gives glory to a life lived selfishly.
Here is the article. I think it is worth reading:
The Christmas season has taken on disappointing characteristics in
our highly secularized culture. These characteristics include removing
Christ-centered displays and using verbiage that eliminates references to
the namesake of the season’s special day. Some businesses have removed
the familiar and once prominently accepted greetings that include any
reference to Christmas and instead have attempted to pretend the specially
named day really is not. These businesses give it a bland moniker such as
“winter holiday.” My, what a threat this day must be to a secular culture.
It really is fascinating—try as secularists might to take Christ out of
Christmas—that the popular and seemingly secular symbol of Christmas,
Santa Claus, represents the work of God’s Son. Santa Claus remains pretty
much OK probably because the spoilers have not figured out how to
explain from their vantage point, or do not know, the gradual transition of
St. Nicholas to Santa Claus. The real Nicholas was born in Patara, a Greek
area that is now a part of the southern coast of Turkey. His parents were
wealthy and devout Christians, who died when he was quite young. Nicholas
dedicated his life to serving God, and he became the bishop of Myra as a
young man. He used his entire inheritance to help the sick, the needy, and
others who were suffering. Because he was held in great esteem for his life
and deeds, the anniversary of his death, December 6, AD 343, became
known and celebrated as St. Nicholas Day (www.stnicholascenter.org).
In the 1800s, because of the work of artists and writers, St. Nicholas took
on an elfi sh appearance and eventually a beard and a pipe. He gradually
acquired a rotund appearance and a red suit. By the late 1800s, the saint’s
name shifted to Santa Claus, “a natural phonetic alteration from the
German Sankt Niklaus and Dutch Sinterklaas” (www.stnicholascenter.org).
It must be noted though, when you dig down, he is still Nicholas, who
modeled true giving and faithfulness—a result of his love for Christ.
Here is the article. I think it is worth reading:
The Christmas season has taken on disappointing characteristics in
our highly secularized culture. These characteristics include removing
Christ-centered displays and using verbiage that eliminates references to
the namesake of the season’s special day. Some businesses have removed
the familiar and once prominently accepted greetings that include any
reference to Christmas and instead have attempted to pretend the specially
named day really is not. These businesses give it a bland moniker such as
“winter holiday.” My, what a threat this day must be to a secular culture.
It really is fascinating—try as secularists might to take Christ out of
Christmas—that the popular and seemingly secular symbol of Christmas,
Santa Claus, represents the work of God’s Son. Santa Claus remains pretty
much OK probably because the spoilers have not figured out how to
explain from their vantage point, or do not know, the gradual transition of
St. Nicholas to Santa Claus. The real Nicholas was born in Patara, a Greek
area that is now a part of the southern coast of Turkey. His parents were
wealthy and devout Christians, who died when he was quite young. Nicholas
dedicated his life to serving God, and he became the bishop of Myra as a
young man. He used his entire inheritance to help the sick, the needy, and
others who were suffering. Because he was held in great esteem for his life
and deeds, the anniversary of his death, December 6, AD 343, became
known and celebrated as St. Nicholas Day (www.stnicholascenter.org).
In the 1800s, because of the work of artists and writers, St. Nicholas took
on an elfi sh appearance and eventually a beard and a pipe. He gradually
acquired a rotund appearance and a red suit. By the late 1800s, the saint’s
name shifted to Santa Claus, “a natural phonetic alteration from the
German Sankt Niklaus and Dutch Sinterklaas” (www.stnicholascenter.org).
It must be noted though, when you dig down, he is still Nicholas, who
modeled true giving and faithfulness—a result of his love for Christ.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
behind, behind, behind in blogging
I have good reasons, honest. First, I had no inspiration. Instead of writing ala Sienfeld (about nothing), I decided to wait until the mood was right. Then, the invasion of Jay's parents occurred - actually two days before scheduled. And, with built in help, I am pushing myself to get everything done while they are here in order to relax while they are gone. When I write that, I realize it should be the opposite, but not for me.
To date, the cards have been mailed, decorations are all up, Tanglewood light display has been seen, a list of 4 presents remain to purchase (of which I plan on ordering this evening), all presents are organized and ready to wrap, sugar cookies have been baked and decorated, and the gingerbread house has been constructed and is awaitng decoration, company Christmas party has been organized and food ordered, preschool Christmas breakfast and gift cards have been completed. Whew!
I have spent much of this time with Jay's mom listening to her tell me that when the children get older none of this will be important. I won't decorate very much, if at all, she says. "It isn't important," she says to me in her heavy accent. I have thought a lot about that and I think I beg to differ. Not only are we celebrating our Savior's birth (even though there is no documentation of it on this particular day), these are our traditions. I love traditions. We don't exaggerate them to the point that they cast a shadow on our religious beliefs, but they are a part of who we are and provide memories, time together, family-ness (if that is a word). I want my children to remember it fondly, full of laughter and fun. One day, I will be old, but then, God willing, I will have grand children and will want to do the same for them. It is a special time because we choose to make it so. And, as the year pass, I will continue to choose to make it so.
I have also been quite reflective on Christmas last year. My first without her. Sometimes, when you are so deep in the muck, you don't know you are there. That was me. So depressed and out of sorts. I had no motivation, no care. I remember having a heavy, heavy sense of dread. I am sure I wore that expression on my face and in my countenance. Christmas was a bit of drudgery and obligation. I am glad I can see clearly now. I am full of gratitude to have survived it, literally.
Ethan has been, I think, overloaded with school work. I am glad the holidays are nearly upon us as I think we are all desirous for a break. We still work diligently on responsibility. At least we had a week where Ethan did not forget to put his name on a single paper (an automatic 5 pt. deduction). Lots of sticky details this year which stresses me out.
Sadie had a couple of fabulous behavior days at school. Working hard, same as always. Showing more compassion and concern for others. Praying hard for our neighbor who has had a bad run lately. Praising for a friends' grandmother whose body has been receptive of chemotherapy. Sweet.
Little Lily is turning into quite an emotional little ball. Highs and lows like a roller coaster and coming and going just as quickly as one. Crying and whining and just trying to figure herself out. She wants so badly to be a part of the older children and their activities. She finds herself in limbo of not being a baby, yet not fully independent. A challenge for her, I am sure.
Fifteen days until Christmas and we are blessed.
To date, the cards have been mailed, decorations are all up, Tanglewood light display has been seen, a list of 4 presents remain to purchase (of which I plan on ordering this evening), all presents are organized and ready to wrap, sugar cookies have been baked and decorated, and the gingerbread house has been constructed and is awaitng decoration, company Christmas party has been organized and food ordered, preschool Christmas breakfast and gift cards have been completed. Whew!
I have spent much of this time with Jay's mom listening to her tell me that when the children get older none of this will be important. I won't decorate very much, if at all, she says. "It isn't important," she says to me in her heavy accent. I have thought a lot about that and I think I beg to differ. Not only are we celebrating our Savior's birth (even though there is no documentation of it on this particular day), these are our traditions. I love traditions. We don't exaggerate them to the point that they cast a shadow on our religious beliefs, but they are a part of who we are and provide memories, time together, family-ness (if that is a word). I want my children to remember it fondly, full of laughter and fun. One day, I will be old, but then, God willing, I will have grand children and will want to do the same for them. It is a special time because we choose to make it so. And, as the year pass, I will continue to choose to make it so.
I have also been quite reflective on Christmas last year. My first without her. Sometimes, when you are so deep in the muck, you don't know you are there. That was me. So depressed and out of sorts. I had no motivation, no care. I remember having a heavy, heavy sense of dread. I am sure I wore that expression on my face and in my countenance. Christmas was a bit of drudgery and obligation. I am glad I can see clearly now. I am full of gratitude to have survived it, literally.
Ethan has been, I think, overloaded with school work. I am glad the holidays are nearly upon us as I think we are all desirous for a break. We still work diligently on responsibility. At least we had a week where Ethan did not forget to put his name on a single paper (an automatic 5 pt. deduction). Lots of sticky details this year which stresses me out.
Sadie had a couple of fabulous behavior days at school. Working hard, same as always. Showing more compassion and concern for others. Praying hard for our neighbor who has had a bad run lately. Praising for a friends' grandmother whose body has been receptive of chemotherapy. Sweet.
Little Lily is turning into quite an emotional little ball. Highs and lows like a roller coaster and coming and going just as quickly as one. Crying and whining and just trying to figure herself out. She wants so badly to be a part of the older children and their activities. She finds herself in limbo of not being a baby, yet not fully independent. A challenge for her, I am sure.
Fifteen days until Christmas and we are blessed.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
So, when did I become such a home body? It is the weekend of Thanksgiving and in years past would have been all up in black Friday shopping, visiting friends, going to the movies - just being out for being out's sake. I loved the crowds, the hint of holiday spirit in the air, traveling to and fro.
I guess the transformation began last year. It was just over a year ago when Jay said adios to his job and took a 6-month sabbatical from working. Actually, he was riding out a non-compete agreement and he did anything but not work during that time. Our beautiful, hand-crafted study is a testament to that. Being extremely tight on money we stayed at home and found ways to have fun without spending money. It wasn't easy for me - not the staying on budget, but the removal from society (ok, that is a little drastic of a description). For Jay, who has always been somewhat of a recluse, it was heaven. He prefers solitary hobbies - computer gaming, movies, etc.
Sure, this also has to do with her. She was my post-Thanksgiving shopping buddy.
I guess the transformation began last year. It was just over a year ago when Jay said adios to his job and took a 6-month sabbatical from working. Actually, he was riding out a non-compete agreement and he did anything but not work during that time. Our beautiful, hand-crafted study is a testament to that. Being extremely tight on money we stayed at home and found ways to have fun without spending money. It wasn't easy for me - not the staying on budget, but the removal from society (ok, that is a little drastic of a description). For Jay, who has always been somewhat of a recluse, it was heaven. He prefers solitary hobbies - computer gaming, movies, etc.
Sure, this also has to do with her. She was my post-Thanksgiving shopping buddy.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Priceless
Squirrel Saga
Chapter 2 (To bring you up to date, Chapter 1 is here)
Ebsalic milk powder for puppies: 18.00
Bedding for the old bird cage: 9.00
Rich block food for rabbits and rodent: 8.00
New born puppy milk bottles: 4.50 (rejected by the squirrel)
Water bottle for cage: 2.00
Unshelled sunflower seeds: 1.50
Declared insane by all your friends and family: Priceless
Do I actually have to state the obvious? The squirrel is still here. Eyes are now open, tail beginning to bush out a little, not waking up in the night for a feeding (ptl!). Every day we talk about sending him away, but we (Jay) have grown a little attached (read obsessive). Today, I gleaned a tidbit on squirrel world.com (part of my daily reading now) that it is not a good idea to release a squirrel during the winter. Not the news I wanted to hear. "Oh, we'll keep him for longer, honey. It is pretty easy," said by Jay, the squirrel man. This all still smells like roses (well, not the squirrel because squirrel deification really stinks) but he still doesn't have teeth of any significance. Mark my words, this is all going to come crashing down like a house of cards. One bite...and it is adios Theodore. More posts to come.
Chapter 2 (To bring you up to date, Chapter 1 is here)
Ebsalic milk powder for puppies: 18.00
Bedding for the old bird cage: 9.00
Rich block food for rabbits and rodent: 8.00
New born puppy milk bottles: 4.50 (rejected by the squirrel)
Water bottle for cage: 2.00
Unshelled sunflower seeds: 1.50
Declared insane by all your friends and family: Priceless
Do I actually have to state the obvious? The squirrel is still here. Eyes are now open, tail beginning to bush out a little, not waking up in the night for a feeding (ptl!). Every day we talk about sending him away, but we (Jay) have grown a little attached (read obsessive). Today, I gleaned a tidbit on squirrel world.com (part of my daily reading now) that it is not a good idea to release a squirrel during the winter. Not the news I wanted to hear. "Oh, we'll keep him for longer, honey. It is pretty easy," said by Jay, the squirrel man. This all still smells like roses (well, not the squirrel because squirrel deification really stinks) but he still doesn't have teeth of any significance. Mark my words, this is all going to come crashing down like a house of cards. One bite...and it is adios Theodore. More posts to come.
Anne of Green Gables
I think I posted several months ago that Sadie and I began reading, "Anne of Green Gables" together at bedtime. Somewhere early on, we forgot about it and for some reason, Sadie brought it back out a few nights ago. I was a bit giddy when she handed it over, for several reasons. It is the perfect book as the chapters are fairly short, verbiage simple and yet, almost a mini-story within the larger tale. And, yet, I was hesitant because of what it does to me.
I was hesitant because the book is emotional draining for me. I have subjected myself to more than one occurrence of tears building in corners of my eyes, daring to over flow onto my face. Is it the fact that I am a mother and it hurts how Anne is treated at times? Is it the fact that I feel some sort of connection between the tragedy this girl faces and disappointments in my own life? Is it my own loneliness and sense of displacement that is our bond? Or is it the basic reality that I am tired and worn out from the usual routine of being a stay at home mom which is not physically draining, but emotionally fatiguing. I am going with the latter - the others are just poppycock.
Side note: Can you tell I have been waiting for a reason to use the word "poppycock" upon learning of its Dutch origins meaning soft dung. Ok - back on topic.
Apparently, I may be the only one who never read this book or saw the movie as a young girl. So don't spoil it for me. I can still remain hopeful that it get less heavy on the old box of tissues.
There have been other books that have brought me to this point. After she died I read several books about death and grieving to the kids - you can imagine the response. But, those are pretty obvious ones. I wasn't expecting "AoGG" to do it to me.
This leads to a question - or, sadly, more appropriately for this blog since I have few commenters - it begs the thought: What books have you read to your children that made you cry? Or have you read a book ,written for a "younger" audience, for your own pleasure that elicited some emotional upheaval?
I was hesitant because the book is emotional draining for me. I have subjected myself to more than one occurrence of tears building in corners of my eyes, daring to over flow onto my face. Is it the fact that I am a mother and it hurts how Anne is treated at times? Is it the fact that I feel some sort of connection between the tragedy this girl faces and disappointments in my own life? Is it my own loneliness and sense of displacement that is our bond? Or is it the basic reality that I am tired and worn out from the usual routine of being a stay at home mom which is not physically draining, but emotionally fatiguing. I am going with the latter - the others are just poppycock.
Side note: Can you tell I have been waiting for a reason to use the word "poppycock" upon learning of its Dutch origins meaning soft dung. Ok - back on topic.
Apparently, I may be the only one who never read this book or saw the movie as a young girl. So don't spoil it for me. I can still remain hopeful that it get less heavy on the old box of tissues.
There have been other books that have brought me to this point. After she died I read several books about death and grieving to the kids - you can imagine the response. But, those are pretty obvious ones. I wasn't expecting "AoGG" to do it to me.
This leads to a question - or, sadly, more appropriately for this blog since I have few commenters - it begs the thought: What books have you read to your children that made you cry? Or have you read a book ,written for a "younger" audience, for your own pleasure that elicited some emotional upheaval?
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Is the doctor in?
This is a blog about nothing in particular, a chronicle of my life with my children. I don't think this is earth shattering news to most who visit this site. So, bear with me on this post as it involves a frequent topic this year - the ridiculousness that is my medical year. I have always considered myself healthy. I eat decently, occasionally work out (occasionally maybe stretching it), in a normal weight category and up until this year rarely went to the doctor. I started tallying some statistics and here is what I came up with since January 2008:
8 P/T appointments
3 MRIs2 CTs
2 biopsies2 ultrasounds
1 major surgeryI won't go into the details about my latest medical intervention, but I have to wonder - Is this what getting old is like? Are your days numbered by doctor appointments, tests and uncertainty? I used to wake up each day, taking my health quite for granted, going about my day without a thought about how I would get my daily grind complete. Not again.
My heart is more in tune with those without health insurance who either suffer in pain or suffer financially. There really is no middle ground here, right? When you are debilitated by a disease or injury everything just basically stops. The daily grind ends and everything takes second place. I watched it with Ansley, but it really is different when you experience it, personally. Definitely a new perspective.
I am grateful that is not our current lot. We have insurance, crappy insurance, but insurance nevertheless. Now, we are facing the end of our COBRA benefits in about 6 months. We are shopping around for a group policy for the business. Not really the time to have your worse health year ever. It will be interesting to see what the final tally is.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Where in the World is...?
I found a really cool site:
http://strangemaps.wordpress.com/
Each day, the author blogs about an interesting map, part of geography, some statistcal data. Its breakdown map of the election results by county is really fascinating. Some of it is relevant to every day life. Some is probably best to be stored, ala Cliff Clavin from Cheers for that random moment in time when it might be a nice annecdotal comment.
I have always been drawn to maps. My favorite puzzle as a child was a map puzzle which had the US on one side and a world map on the other. It had the main indsutry in symbols on the states which is where I learned that Ohio had a mining industry (who knew). I can also remember our 7th grade social studies book which was organized by each continent and then country, listing fascinating facts about each. That is where I remembering the eye-opening awareness that in some parts of the world people live on $4/day or less and that the average life span is only 49.
I will be bookmarking it - it is just up my alley.
http://strangemaps.wordpress.com/
Each day, the author blogs about an interesting map, part of geography, some statistcal data. Its breakdown map of the election results by county is really fascinating. Some of it is relevant to every day life. Some is probably best to be stored, ala Cliff Clavin from Cheers for that random moment in time when it might be a nice annecdotal comment.
I have always been drawn to maps. My favorite puzzle as a child was a map puzzle which had the US on one side and a world map on the other. It had the main indsutry in symbols on the states which is where I learned that Ohio had a mining industry (who knew). I can also remember our 7th grade social studies book which was organized by each continent and then country, listing fascinating facts about each. That is where I remembering the eye-opening awareness that in some parts of the world people live on $4/day or less and that the average life span is only 49.
I will be bookmarking it - it is just up my alley.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Just a Little Squirrely
Saturday, Jay decided to chop down a couple of dead oak trees in our back yard. These were enormous oak trees - just humongous. I was very sad that we lost them, but it is what it is. I could hear the chain saw buzzing from inside the house and just a while later heard the phone ring. It was Jay calling me from outside.
Jay: Kels - I think you need to bring the bird cage or box or something. There was a nest of something in this tree. I am not sure what it is. They are screaming - it is terrible.
Kelsey: Do you think it is a squirrel's nest? I'll find what I can. At which point the kids had been alerted to the "squirrel's nest" and started bolting out the door.
When I got to where Jay was, he explained that there were two "babies" but Bobo (the dog) got to one before he did. There was one left and no momma to be found. It was definitely a squirrel. Ethan bolted back into the house to get on the internet to read about caring for baby squirrels. Jay announced that he thought it would be a great "family project."
We guess he is about 5 weeks old - some fur on most of his body, but eyes still closed. We wrapped him up and waited to see what happened. In the meantime, we got out an old kid's medicine syringe and tried to give it liquids. After a few tries, he took to it like a baby and a bottle. He is thriving and even lets us know when he is hungry by a very high pitched squeal which sounds much like a squeaky wheel.
The really "squirrely" thing about this situation is Jay. Seriously, he has cared for this little mammal just about more than his own kids as newborns. The man has gotten up in the middle of the night to feed him, helps him go to the bathroom and swaddles him up in an old t-shirt of his. The squirrel sleeps in a box by his bed. Here are some quotes from Jay that make me spit my coffee through my nose:
*I don't know, I held him, felt his heartbeat and something changed.
*I think I love him.
*Look at him, have you ever seen anything so cute?
*Do we have to give him away?
*Using the word "teet" which would be fine on a farm or veterinary class, but used in your own bed by your husband feeding a squirrel is just weird.
At first I thought it was all some pent up need for another baby. But now, I sit in limbo on this opinion. Jay was responsible for orphaning this squirrel and it is probably this guilt that is propelling him to Dr. Dolittle status.
I called the Wildlife Rehab emergency line yesterday and sent two emails to licensed rehab specialists, but haven't heard anything, yet. If it were a good idea to have a pet squirrel then everyone would do it, right? It is time to bring in the experts and send him on his way.
The kids will be a little sad at the loss, and Jay...what am I going to do with him? Therapy?
Update: It looks like all rehab places are full. We could drive to the zoo (an hour) or hang on until an opening. Oh, the dilemma.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Observations
Random thoughts:
Pomegranate - One of nature's super foods? Or nature's most ridiculously staining fruit? My attempts at getting the seeds out for my kids rendered my white t-shirt splattered with red juice. I looked like I had just butchered a cow - seriously.
When doing any sort of major yard work which involves heavy machinery, should you just stop vacuuming your house until all the work is done? Or just put a big box outside the door for every pair of shoes, thus allowing kids to go to school to dirty their carpet with mud-caked foot apparel?
Why does a garage door work only when continuously holding down the large button by the door and not by the remote or by quickly stabbing the large button like it is supposed to do?
Why do kids still pick their noses when they have complete knowledge it is nasty? Caught Lily doing it tonight and she hung her head in shame.
If a child takes a toy into a room with other children and is given a choice to either show (not even share) his toy to other children OR put the toy away, is it really ok to allow them to put the toy in the backpack? Does that promote complete and total selfishness?
With 5 people living under the same roof, is it possible, by any stretch of the imagination to have all laundry done - nothing, not even a sock dirty? Why do I try?
How much sugar is really in all that Halloween loot? If I ate all the items containing chocolate, how much weight would I gain? There is serious contemplation of this fact every night.
If all of my high school class joins facebook and we all catch up through it, what are we going to talk about at the reunion? Does that defeat the purpose of a reunion?
How long am I going to wait in line to vote tomorrow? Why wasn't I a bit more proactive in early voting or even absentee voting?
What have you been wondering?
Pomegranate - One of nature's super foods? Or nature's most ridiculously staining fruit? My attempts at getting the seeds out for my kids rendered my white t-shirt splattered with red juice. I looked like I had just butchered a cow - seriously.
When doing any sort of major yard work which involves heavy machinery, should you just stop vacuuming your house until all the work is done? Or just put a big box outside the door for every pair of shoes, thus allowing kids to go to school to dirty their carpet with mud-caked foot apparel?
Why does a garage door work only when continuously holding down the large button by the door and not by the remote or by quickly stabbing the large button like it is supposed to do?
Why do kids still pick their noses when they have complete knowledge it is nasty? Caught Lily doing it tonight and she hung her head in shame.
If a child takes a toy into a room with other children and is given a choice to either show (not even share) his toy to other children OR put the toy away, is it really ok to allow them to put the toy in the backpack? Does that promote complete and total selfishness?
With 5 people living under the same roof, is it possible, by any stretch of the imagination to have all laundry done - nothing, not even a sock dirty? Why do I try?
How much sugar is really in all that Halloween loot? If I ate all the items containing chocolate, how much weight would I gain? There is serious contemplation of this fact every night.
If all of my high school class joins facebook and we all catch up through it, what are we going to talk about at the reunion? Does that defeat the purpose of a reunion?
How long am I going to wait in line to vote tomorrow? Why wasn't I a bit more proactive in early voting or even absentee voting?
What have you been wondering?
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Sex, Religion and Politics
Well, once again, I have allowed "this world" to cloud any sort of judgment, mar my ability to think clearly and completely explode my perspective until it is kiltering on the edge - in danger of falling of into the grand canyon of insanity. It is time for me to stop. Stop reading websites with political news, stop reading emails sent to me by my ultra right and semi-left friends and family, stop reading an ultra-liberal blog I frequent - and probably just turning off news television - what could I miss in 4 days, right? Instead, it is time to get back into "God's world."
I remember reading an email a few years ago from a friend who is pretty liberal. She was trying to convince me of some political viewpoint. She was fairly active in her local political scene. Our emails didn't end very well as I kept trying to reach her heart - what was her basis of life, where did she find meaning, etc. She couldn't get past legalizing gay marriage. I remember thinking how sad, her life's meaning is tied up in such earthly, temporal things. And, now, here I sit guilty of doing the exact thing.
I read news on a political candidate today that just made my blood boil and I am not even sure why. So much, in fact, that it spilled forth onto my family in biting words. I then proceeded to post a comment on a ultra-liberal blog (anonymously, of course) and went so far as to post a status on facebook about it. May lose some friends in the process. I lost my mind!
My mind needs to remain fixed on the highest authority. For those that have not taken a moment to read John Piper's most excellent article, please do so now. Here It is a great reminder that voting is our duty according to the bible, but our lives need not hinge on it. As with all of this world, this election will fade away. What time I have wasted on this election when I could have spent it with Him! I have allowed this election to come between me and my sweet Savior and for that, I will spend some time with Him confessing, repenting and asking for forgiveness.
I remember reading an email a few years ago from a friend who is pretty liberal. She was trying to convince me of some political viewpoint. She was fairly active in her local political scene. Our emails didn't end very well as I kept trying to reach her heart - what was her basis of life, where did she find meaning, etc. She couldn't get past legalizing gay marriage. I remember thinking how sad, her life's meaning is tied up in such earthly, temporal things. And, now, here I sit guilty of doing the exact thing.
I read news on a political candidate today that just made my blood boil and I am not even sure why. So much, in fact, that it spilled forth onto my family in biting words. I then proceeded to post a comment on a ultra-liberal blog (anonymously, of course) and went so far as to post a status on facebook about it. May lose some friends in the process. I lost my mind!
My mind needs to remain fixed on the highest authority. For those that have not taken a moment to read John Piper's most excellent article, please do so now. Here It is a great reminder that voting is our duty according to the bible, but our lives need not hinge on it. As with all of this world, this election will fade away. What time I have wasted on this election when I could have spent it with Him! I have allowed this election to come between me and my sweet Savior and for that, I will spend some time with Him confessing, repenting and asking for forgiveness.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Saturday, October 25
I have started a few post as we camp out in the basement for market. I just didn't feel the groove to finish them. May at some point, but not now. I was beginning to think that maybe this drive to write was over. Good while it lasted and may come back later. BUT THEN, something just fell into my lap which really could not be passed over.
Yesterday, when school was dismissing, Sadie set off the fire alarm. I am NOT KIDDING. Before we go any further let me clarify that every eye witness confirms to me that it was COMPLETELY ACCIDENTAL. My poor, poor little girl. She was jemmying along the wall waiting with my fellow car pool mom (bless her heart) for the 3rd graders to be dismissed. Her back was to the wall and with arms held over her head, she somehow hit the alarm (which did not have a protective cover). She had no idea she was the culprit and even asked the mom, "What is that noise - is that the fire alarm?" The unfortunate thing was that the middle school who was not due out for another 45 minutes to an hour had to completely clear out as well. I am sure there was some chaos as students and parents were trying to connect on a Friday afternoon and some classes still had to go to their designated fire alarm position. I can only imagine - just really, really glad I did not have to deal with that.
It must have been a blessing that the car pool mom was there instead of me. I mean, I would not have been kind to Sadie - even if accidental. I was mortified when my carpool mom told me in my own driveway and I can only imagine how I would have been had I been present. I praise God that Sadie was spared that humiliation as I know, sadly, that I would not have been able to control myself. I would have destroyed her little spirit. Pride is a terrible, terrible thing in my life and I pray to God to destroy it in me.
Thankfully, fabulous report cards came home Friday and Sadie's behavior improvements over last year (even with the same teacher this year) were amazing. I am so proud of her! Ethan rocked as usual. Rewards to come!
Yesterday, when school was dismissing, Sadie set off the fire alarm. I am NOT KIDDING. Before we go any further let me clarify that every eye witness confirms to me that it was COMPLETELY ACCIDENTAL. My poor, poor little girl. She was jemmying along the wall waiting with my fellow car pool mom (bless her heart) for the 3rd graders to be dismissed. Her back was to the wall and with arms held over her head, she somehow hit the alarm (which did not have a protective cover). She had no idea she was the culprit and even asked the mom, "What is that noise - is that the fire alarm?" The unfortunate thing was that the middle school who was not due out for another 45 minutes to an hour had to completely clear out as well. I am sure there was some chaos as students and parents were trying to connect on a Friday afternoon and some classes still had to go to their designated fire alarm position. I can only imagine - just really, really glad I did not have to deal with that.
It must have been a blessing that the car pool mom was there instead of me. I mean, I would not have been kind to Sadie - even if accidental. I was mortified when my carpool mom told me in my own driveway and I can only imagine how I would have been had I been present. I praise God that Sadie was spared that humiliation as I know, sadly, that I would not have been able to control myself. I would have destroyed her little spirit. Pride is a terrible, terrible thing in my life and I pray to God to destroy it in me.
Thankfully, fabulous report cards came home Friday and Sadie's behavior improvements over last year (even with the same teacher this year) were amazing. I am so proud of her! Ethan rocked as usual. Rewards to come!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
To every thing there is a season
Just two or three days before we moved out for market, Jay decided to finish up the bookshelves in our study. Not only did this mean fashioning the shelves out of wood, staining and then installing the shelves, but, it included hauling, from the basement storage room, 8+ boxes filled with books. The boxes were quickly unpacked and loaded up on the shelves.
These 8+ boxes were very interesting to say the least - truly embodying the curious tincture of the stages of our lives. Some of these boxes, I think, had not been unpacked since I moved from my last apartment as a single gal - over 10 years ago. The rest were packed when we moved from Greensboro about 6 years ago. So, it was with much curiosity that we started unloading the boxes, and randomly placing the contents on the shelves. Man, we have a lot of books.
The varying books are so significant because they basically chart out our lives - which is very hmmm - eclectic, diverse, changing, revolving. Here is a snippet:
How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
Hiding My Candy by The Lady Chablis (yes, I typed that correctly)
Shabby Chic by Rachel Ashwell
Let's Go Europe (1995 version) - travel Guide
She's Coming Undone by Wally Lamb (2 copies of this book and I don't recall ever reading it)
From Potter's Field by Patricia Cornwell
Vine's Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Word
Getting Off the Emotional Roller Coaster by Phillips
Left Behind by LaHaye/Jenkins and a three follow-ups to this series
Ledford Senior High School year book - 1989 (eek!)
English Words from Latin and Greek elements
Chicken Soup for the Soul (also Woman's Soul and Christian Soul edition)
Build Your Own Kitchen Cabinets by Proux
Catamaran Sailing by Berman
Power Prospecting by Hansen
The Office - Season 1 and Season 2 on DVD (not a book, but boxed up from when our floors were redone when we had a leak.
Lies Women Believe by DeMoss
Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ by Piper
I see a survey of college life, vacation reading, high school memories, hobby interests, work enhancement and finally, what actually dominates the collection, our spiritual walk. Except for the latter, it is probably time to purge.
These 8+ boxes were very interesting to say the least - truly embodying the curious tincture of the stages of our lives. Some of these boxes, I think, had not been unpacked since I moved from my last apartment as a single gal - over 10 years ago. The rest were packed when we moved from Greensboro about 6 years ago. So, it was with much curiosity that we started unloading the boxes, and randomly placing the contents on the shelves. Man, we have a lot of books.
The varying books are so significant because they basically chart out our lives - which is very hmmm - eclectic, diverse, changing, revolving. Here is a snippet:
How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
Hiding My Candy by The Lady Chablis (yes, I typed that correctly)
Shabby Chic by Rachel Ashwell
Let's Go Europe (1995 version) - travel Guide
She's Coming Undone by Wally Lamb (2 copies of this book and I don't recall ever reading it)
From Potter's Field by Patricia Cornwell
Vine's Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Word
Getting Off the Emotional Roller Coaster by Phillips
Left Behind by LaHaye/Jenkins and a three follow-ups to this series
Ledford Senior High School year book - 1989 (eek!)
English Words from Latin and Greek elements
Chicken Soup for the Soul (also Woman's Soul and Christian Soul edition)
Build Your Own Kitchen Cabinets by Proux
Catamaran Sailing by Berman
Power Prospecting by Hansen
The Office - Season 1 and Season 2 on DVD (not a book, but boxed up from when our floors were redone when we had a leak.
Lies Women Believe by DeMoss
Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ by Piper
I see a survey of college life, vacation reading, high school memories, hobby interests, work enhancement and finally, what actually dominates the collection, our spiritual walk. Except for the latter, it is probably time to purge.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
nothing in particular
Entry from two weeks ago - never posted:
Obviously, something is going on with my hormones. I just teared up over "Barbie, Island Princess." Maybe market cleaning has pushed me over the edge. Dunno. I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. Things are definitely looking good!
Soccer games today - Sadie scored two goals, Ethan came very close and had several assists. It was a blustery, but nice fall day.
Lily couldn't seem to find any place to sit except for my lap, but seemed to have much to complain about when I would yell in support for the team.
Obviously, something is going on with my hormones. I just teared up over "Barbie, Island Princess." Maybe market cleaning has pushed me over the edge. Dunno. I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. Things are definitely looking good!
Soccer games today - Sadie scored two goals, Ethan came very close and had several assists. It was a blustery, but nice fall day.
Lily couldn't seem to find any place to sit except for my lap, but seemed to have much to complain about when I would yell in support for the team.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Remembering the End - draft 2
I first published this post in March. I have since revised a few things. It is October - the official Pink month. May none of us ever endure what she did. Here is how I remember the end.
The call came in the middle of the night. As was the custom over the past three years, my sleep was light. Calls in the middle of the night always make you jump, giving you a quick stab in the stomach. This call was no exception. It was Todd. The hospital had called. Ansley wasn't breathing well and they thought he should come to the hospital. Had they not given Todd clear information about Ansley's condition, or was he holding back what he knew?, He gave me the option of meeting him there. He also said he would call me once he got there and assessed the situation. We hung up. I sat on the floor of my bathroom thinking. The floor was cold and I remember working through my mind if I should head over there or wait until the morning. I realized that I didn't feel well - my body was incredibly achy and my head hurt. My stomach was churning. Was it from the news or something else?
I went back to my bed and waited, not sleeping, not even close to sleeping. The next call came some 20 minutes later. I answered the phone before the ring had finished sounding. This time it was from Mom. She said she was going to the hospital - Todd had called. The information was still foggy and her tone was a little vague. I wasn't sure whether to go or not. She told me very clearly that I should go. I woke Jay in his coma-like sleep to tell him. I quickly got dressed and prayed that I would start to feel better. It was a very chilly February night - I remember shivering and feeling my stomach continue its roller coaster. Halfway through the drive, ironically in my mother's neighborhood, I pulled over to vomit. My own body was fighting sickness. The continued drive was silent and lonely and long. There was only one other car on Wendover and I realized that with its flashing lights that it was Pastor Bill. My stomach and heart did another jump - it was more serious than I had worked in my mind. I no longer felt the sickness of my own body as adrenaline took over. We raced together down the empty streets, a tandem team, to reach someone before she was gone.
I walked down the silent hospital corridor and into ICU. My pace quickened as I neared her room which was more like a large open cubicle with some sort of sliding glass door. My countenance collapsed when I saw her for the first time. My hopes vanished. My heart hurting. She was gasping for breath, her defeated body shuddering and fighting each inhale. She was pale with her eyes closed. I cried, "Oh, Ainie." I was quickly given the update - it was still a little unknown but she was not doing well. This might be the end.
I stared at the monitors hoping to see some positive change - to see the numbers inch even slightly up to give me some sort of hope. Even with the oxygen mask she couldn't muster above an oxygen level of 85. My face fell. I cried softly.
I went to Ansley's side and held her hand. I told her that I was there. I loved her. I went in close and kissed her cheek and forehead. Her body not changing, recognition not there. I stayed in my spot, planted, holding the hand of the person I loved longer than any other in my lifetime.
This hand. The hand that had dressed many dolls with me, had made me meals, who had patted me on the back, had angrily pointed at me, had held my wedding bouquet and Jay's wedding ring, had stroked my hair, had found buckets of seashells and shark's teeth, had punched me, hit me and loved me, had drawn pictures on my back to help me sleep, had created beautiful pieces of artwork and had held me crying from a broken heart. The hands that held each of my three children in the first moments of their lives. The same hands that would clap in excitement when great news was at hand. A hand that was pressed together when praying the sweetest, most heart-felt prayers to our Father on my behalf. Her hand was soft from the lotion I had applied just a day earlier. They were always our connection, even when we were small. She loved to have her arms scratched and being the only sibling, that duty often fell to me. It seemed only natural that while we waited on doctors, treatments, and most often when she was trying to brave the pain and suffering, that I would try to bring her comfort with my well-practiced strokes.
I was only there a short time - or so it seemed. I felt the strong urge to read to her from her bible. I opened up to Isaiah, her favorite book from the Old Testament. I began reading...
The monitor displayed ominous signs of the end. The warning alarm of a condition that would normally bring in the nurses was turned off. Flashes of memory of that time - Pastor Bill praying over Ansley, John asking questions to the nurse, Todd whispering his love to Ansley in her ear, my dad and mom standing across the bed from me - both of them with red eyes, tears, and contorted hurt and pain on their faces - coming together to say goodbye to one they created together. Pastor Bill and Tammy at the foot of the bed - Tammy crying quite audibly.
Was this it - is the day I had imagined and begged never to arrive, finally here? I am so unprepared, God. This can't be happening. No, not now. I want to scream. Someone do something. She can be saved for a few more days. No - no - no.
The weight of the moment was too much for me - I was overwhelmed. My head, heavy with sorrow, bent over and drooped onto the bed and Ansley's legs. I could only mutter, "no, no, no." I never wanted to raise my head and body again as if I could somehow suffocate this moment away in the sheets of her bed. Somehow I forced myself to straightened up. My tenuous composure barely hanging on. The monitor slowly descending. Mom was telling Ansley to run to Jesus. My Dad telling her he loved her. Todd telling her to go. My mouth was silent as I felt paralyzed from the tears in my eyes. I couldn't give her permission to leave as I didn't want her to go.
Her breathing became less labored...it became smooth. It was slower, but peaceful. Her body stopped fighting for life. The elevated sound of grabbing for air was replaced by soft sighs. The mood changed from urgent to inevitable...from crisis and on edge to knowledge and peace. She opened her eyes just slightly and appeared to strain under heavy lids to look in my direction. She knew we were there. We all declared our love for her. The monitor reached the end. She was no longer breathing, but her heart continued for a while. The strongest part of her pushing to the end, symbolic of who she was. Then nothing. The nurse marked the time. It was silent except for sniffles and a phone call being made. My dad slumped in a chair in the room. His voice eerily several octaves higher than normal as he strained to tell Terry that Ansley was gone. We left the room for a brief moment while they removed all of the wires and tubing that had fought to keep her going, but comfortable. I realized that I had not felt sick once arriving at the hospital. I knew I needed to call Jay and struggled to find words to verbalize my new reality. We were allowed to see her again, to say goodbye.
I held her hand, our connection over 35 years, for the last time. I recognized with brutality and cruelty that coldness was creeping in. It was a stab to my entire body. I talked to her for a short, short while. It was my deepest and most difficult moment. I leaned in and kissed her still warm head. The stubble of the hair that was just beginning to show again pricked my lips. I didn't want to leave her. I would never see her again on this earth. I walked away. Alone.
The call came in the middle of the night. As was the custom over the past three years, my sleep was light. Calls in the middle of the night always make you jump, giving you a quick stab in the stomach. This call was no exception. It was Todd. The hospital had called. Ansley wasn't breathing well and they thought he should come to the hospital. Had they not given Todd clear information about Ansley's condition, or was he holding back what he knew?, He gave me the option of meeting him there. He also said he would call me once he got there and assessed the situation. We hung up. I sat on the floor of my bathroom thinking. The floor was cold and I remember working through my mind if I should head over there or wait until the morning. I realized that I didn't feel well - my body was incredibly achy and my head hurt. My stomach was churning. Was it from the news or something else?
I went back to my bed and waited, not sleeping, not even close to sleeping. The next call came some 20 minutes later. I answered the phone before the ring had finished sounding. This time it was from Mom. She said she was going to the hospital - Todd had called. The information was still foggy and her tone was a little vague. I wasn't sure whether to go or not. She told me very clearly that I should go. I woke Jay in his coma-like sleep to tell him. I quickly got dressed and prayed that I would start to feel better. It was a very chilly February night - I remember shivering and feeling my stomach continue its roller coaster. Halfway through the drive, ironically in my mother's neighborhood, I pulled over to vomit. My own body was fighting sickness. The continued drive was silent and lonely and long. There was only one other car on Wendover and I realized that with its flashing lights that it was Pastor Bill. My stomach and heart did another jump - it was more serious than I had worked in my mind. I no longer felt the sickness of my own body as adrenaline took over. We raced together down the empty streets, a tandem team, to reach someone before she was gone.
I walked down the silent hospital corridor and into ICU. My pace quickened as I neared her room which was more like a large open cubicle with some sort of sliding glass door. My countenance collapsed when I saw her for the first time. My hopes vanished. My heart hurting. She was gasping for breath, her defeated body shuddering and fighting each inhale. She was pale with her eyes closed. I cried, "Oh, Ainie." I was quickly given the update - it was still a little unknown but she was not doing well. This might be the end.
I stared at the monitors hoping to see some positive change - to see the numbers inch even slightly up to give me some sort of hope. Even with the oxygen mask she couldn't muster above an oxygen level of 85. My face fell. I cried softly.
I went to Ansley's side and held her hand. I told her that I was there. I loved her. I went in close and kissed her cheek and forehead. Her body not changing, recognition not there. I stayed in my spot, planted, holding the hand of the person I loved longer than any other in my lifetime.
This hand. The hand that had dressed many dolls with me, had made me meals, who had patted me on the back, had angrily pointed at me, had held my wedding bouquet and Jay's wedding ring, had stroked my hair, had found buckets of seashells and shark's teeth, had punched me, hit me and loved me, had drawn pictures on my back to help me sleep, had created beautiful pieces of artwork and had held me crying from a broken heart. The hands that held each of my three children in the first moments of their lives. The same hands that would clap in excitement when great news was at hand. A hand that was pressed together when praying the sweetest, most heart-felt prayers to our Father on my behalf. Her hand was soft from the lotion I had applied just a day earlier. They were always our connection, even when we were small. She loved to have her arms scratched and being the only sibling, that duty often fell to me. It seemed only natural that while we waited on doctors, treatments, and most often when she was trying to brave the pain and suffering, that I would try to bring her comfort with my well-practiced strokes.
I was only there a short time - or so it seemed. I felt the strong urge to read to her from her bible. I opened up to Isaiah, her favorite book from the Old Testament. I began reading...
The monitor displayed ominous signs of the end. The warning alarm of a condition that would normally bring in the nurses was turned off. Flashes of memory of that time - Pastor Bill praying over Ansley, John asking questions to the nurse, Todd whispering his love to Ansley in her ear, my dad and mom standing across the bed from me - both of them with red eyes, tears, and contorted hurt and pain on their faces - coming together to say goodbye to one they created together. Pastor Bill and Tammy at the foot of the bed - Tammy crying quite audibly.
Was this it - is the day I had imagined and begged never to arrive, finally here? I am so unprepared, God. This can't be happening. No, not now. I want to scream. Someone do something. She can be saved for a few more days. No - no - no.
The weight of the moment was too much for me - I was overwhelmed. My head, heavy with sorrow, bent over and drooped onto the bed and Ansley's legs. I could only mutter, "no, no, no." I never wanted to raise my head and body again as if I could somehow suffocate this moment away in the sheets of her bed. Somehow I forced myself to straightened up. My tenuous composure barely hanging on. The monitor slowly descending. Mom was telling Ansley to run to Jesus. My Dad telling her he loved her. Todd telling her to go. My mouth was silent as I felt paralyzed from the tears in my eyes. I couldn't give her permission to leave as I didn't want her to go.
Her breathing became less labored...it became smooth. It was slower, but peaceful. Her body stopped fighting for life. The elevated sound of grabbing for air was replaced by soft sighs. The mood changed from urgent to inevitable...from crisis and on edge to knowledge and peace. She opened her eyes just slightly and appeared to strain under heavy lids to look in my direction. She knew we were there. We all declared our love for her. The monitor reached the end. She was no longer breathing, but her heart continued for a while. The strongest part of her pushing to the end, symbolic of who she was. Then nothing. The nurse marked the time. It was silent except for sniffles and a phone call being made. My dad slumped in a chair in the room. His voice eerily several octaves higher than normal as he strained to tell Terry that Ansley was gone. We left the room for a brief moment while they removed all of the wires and tubing that had fought to keep her going, but comfortable. I realized that I had not felt sick once arriving at the hospital. I knew I needed to call Jay and struggled to find words to verbalize my new reality. We were allowed to see her again, to say goodbye.
I held her hand, our connection over 35 years, for the last time. I recognized with brutality and cruelty that coldness was creeping in. It was a stab to my entire body. I talked to her for a short, short while. It was my deepest and most difficult moment. I leaned in and kissed her still warm head. The stubble of the hair that was just beginning to show again pricked my lips. I didn't want to leave her. I would never see her again on this earth. I walked away. Alone.
a little wet dot
I am sitting down, for a spell, on the bed for a little rest. I am in the crazy, haze of market cleaning. I have come the conclusion (on my own though I don't know if it has any support) that my entire blown disc, incapacitation and resulting surgery was all caused from last April's cleaning. I spent the better part of two weeks bent at the waist, cleaning baseboards, organizing closets, wiping out drawers, and being my usual OCD self. Thankfully, this season is a bit better than last because I have some help. Bless their hearts - seriously. Jay realized that it was better to fork out a bit of our rent money to get the house clean than have me useless for three months post. Basically, I am handling the organizing, sorting and de-clutter. It feels gooooooood to purge!
So, I sat down and noticed a little tiny wet spot on my duvet cover. Hmmmm. What in the world would have caused that? More importantly, what is it? Oh. Yeah. It is one of Sadie's tears. My heart sank a little when I realized it. I know I have never seen her so dismal and joyless. Her class went on a field trip to the Natural Science Center today. I let her take $5 of her own money for the gift shop (though I have some issues with this entire system allowed by the school, but I digress). She plucked down what I hope was less than a $1 for two little rings. They had clear and pink stones in them. When she proudly showed them to me she announced that they were the same as her teacher's, Mrs. Newell. Well, as she said, except that Mrs. Newell didn't have pink stones; hers were all clear stones. She was clearly quite pleased with herself. She skipped away into the yard. I allowed Ethan and Sadie to play in the dirt/mud field for just a bit which was recently cleared by a bulldozer (more on that later). They came in, took baths and settled in for dinner.
At some point, Sadie realized she didn't have her rings on. She said she put them in her pocket while she was outside. Racing up the stairs to find her shorts, panic was on her face. I heard her let out a little shaky yelp as she realized they were gone. She came downstairs absolutely distraught. My heart hurt a little even though it was over two little plastic rings. Of course, she asked if I would take her back so she could get two more. I had to break it to her that we would not be able to do that. I offered that maybe she might find something she liked at the fair when we go Friday. I held her and hugged her and left her sniffling on my bed as I continued my purge. Not a few moments later, Jay came home. He knew by my face that something was amiss. I quickly explained the situation and sent him back to our bedroom where Sadie was still musing over her loses. As I walked by the door, I saw a dad laying close to his little girl, whispering comfort and consoling a broken heart. I suspect this won't be the last time either.
As I type this, that little dot is nearly gone. All over something rather mild in the scheme of things. Still, her heart was hurt and I felt inadequate because I could not make it all better. The rings are temporary. Forgotten by tomorrow, I bet. But, what will her life bring that will wound her soul, to the core of her being? How long will the affect of those tears last?
So, I sat down and noticed a little tiny wet spot on my duvet cover. Hmmmm. What in the world would have caused that? More importantly, what is it? Oh. Yeah. It is one of Sadie's tears. My heart sank a little when I realized it. I know I have never seen her so dismal and joyless. Her class went on a field trip to the Natural Science Center today. I let her take $5 of her own money for the gift shop (though I have some issues with this entire system allowed by the school, but I digress). She plucked down what I hope was less than a $1 for two little rings. They had clear and pink stones in them. When she proudly showed them to me she announced that they were the same as her teacher's, Mrs. Newell. Well, as she said, except that Mrs. Newell didn't have pink stones; hers were all clear stones. She was clearly quite pleased with herself. She skipped away into the yard. I allowed Ethan and Sadie to play in the dirt/mud field for just a bit which was recently cleared by a bulldozer (more on that later). They came in, took baths and settled in for dinner.
At some point, Sadie realized she didn't have her rings on. She said she put them in her pocket while she was outside. Racing up the stairs to find her shorts, panic was on her face. I heard her let out a little shaky yelp as she realized they were gone. She came downstairs absolutely distraught. My heart hurt a little even though it was over two little plastic rings. Of course, she asked if I would take her back so she could get two more. I had to break it to her that we would not be able to do that. I offered that maybe she might find something she liked at the fair when we go Friday. I held her and hugged her and left her sniffling on my bed as I continued my purge. Not a few moments later, Jay came home. He knew by my face that something was amiss. I quickly explained the situation and sent him back to our bedroom where Sadie was still musing over her loses. As I walked by the door, I saw a dad laying close to his little girl, whispering comfort and consoling a broken heart. I suspect this won't be the last time either.
As I type this, that little dot is nearly gone. All over something rather mild in the scheme of things. Still, her heart was hurt and I felt inadequate because I could not make it all better. The rings are temporary. Forgotten by tomorrow, I bet. But, what will her life bring that will wound her soul, to the core of her being? How long will the affect of those tears last?
Inspired words by Lily
This kept me giggling for at least 30 minutes. Then, I started all over again when I retold this story to Jay and my mom.
The kids (particularly Ethan and Sadie) have been going through a terrible arguing stage. It starts the moment they wake (sometimes before their feet even hit the floor) and they don't stop until someone is in tears and someone else is hurt. Then, they cycle through it again and again throughout the day until it is time for bed. I have turned to the only definitive resource I have - the Bible. So with that in mind, I worked on drilling in Ephesians 4:29 on the way to school a few days ago. Our discussion involved not only what this scripture means, but the impact it has when we are disobedient to God's commands.
In case you are wondering:
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.
So, after I dropped Ethan and Sadie (and our two other carpoolers) off at school, I drove around the building to walk Lily into school. On most days, she LOVES school, but isn't as always keen on the "holding room" which is where preschoolers wait who have older siblings at the academy. As we were walking in Lily announced:
God says - Children should stay with their Mommies. Something 8:33
Me: What?
Lily: 8:33, Mommy. Children should stay with their Mommies.
Me: Ok, Lily. But this morning you are going into the holding room. Giggle - giggle - giggle.
Ephesians 4:29 is a very powerful verse. Wouldn't it be grand if everyone tried that one out? Wonder how that would affect the presidential election, our daily grind at work, our relationships friends and family? Sifting everything that spews forth from our mouths through the colander of Ephesians 4:29, would require us to put others in front of ourselves and put our feelings, desires and attitudes last. A challenge for me for sure. I am convicted as I write this for several conversations I had just yesterday. I think I need to have a conversation with God this morning. Then, I'll giggle some more over my little Lily.
The kids (particularly Ethan and Sadie) have been going through a terrible arguing stage. It starts the moment they wake (sometimes before their feet even hit the floor) and they don't stop until someone is in tears and someone else is hurt. Then, they cycle through it again and again throughout the day until it is time for bed. I have turned to the only definitive resource I have - the Bible. So with that in mind, I worked on drilling in Ephesians 4:29 on the way to school a few days ago. Our discussion involved not only what this scripture means, but the impact it has when we are disobedient to God's commands.
In case you are wondering:
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.
So, after I dropped Ethan and Sadie (and our two other carpoolers) off at school, I drove around the building to walk Lily into school. On most days, she LOVES school, but isn't as always keen on the "holding room" which is where preschoolers wait who have older siblings at the academy. As we were walking in Lily announced:
God says - Children should stay with their Mommies. Something 8:33
Me: What?
Lily: 8:33, Mommy. Children should stay with their Mommies.
Me: Ok, Lily. But this morning you are going into the holding room. Giggle - giggle - giggle.
Ephesians 4:29 is a very powerful verse. Wouldn't it be grand if everyone tried that one out? Wonder how that would affect the presidential election, our daily grind at work, our relationships friends and family? Sifting everything that spews forth from our mouths through the colander of Ephesians 4:29, would require us to put others in front of ourselves and put our feelings, desires and attitudes last. A challenge for me for sure. I am convicted as I write this for several conversations I had just yesterday. I think I need to have a conversation with God this morning. Then, I'll giggle some more over my little Lily.
Friday, October 03, 2008
the mother of all blogs
When I find something really great I usually can't keep it a secret. This blog is awesome if you are a mom with kids. (not sure that there is anyone who reads my blog who isn't)
http://flipflopsandapplesauce.blogspot.com/
Seriously - easy crafts, food, outdoor activities, art. Can't wait to start doing some of these things with the kids...as soon as the house gets cleaned for market.
Let me know what you think of the link.
http://flipflopsandapplesauce.blogspot.com/
Seriously - easy crafts, food, outdoor activities, art. Can't wait to start doing some of these things with the kids...as soon as the house gets cleaned for market.
Let me know what you think of the link.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
weapons of mass destruction
The year: 2000
Me: Ethan will not have guns and weapons. I will not promote that sort of thing. It just breeds violence. (said with a little piety)
The year: 2008
Me: Well, let's see Ethan. That is 10 varying plastic, metal and pop guns, one large rifle-type pop gun, 5 light sabers, three swords, two shields and one mini-potato gun. I guess I need to buy a little storage tub to hold all of this.
Comments, anyone?
Me: Ethan will not have guns and weapons. I will not promote that sort of thing. It just breeds violence. (said with a little piety)
The year: 2008
Me: Well, let's see Ethan. That is 10 varying plastic, metal and pop guns, one large rifle-type pop gun, 5 light sabers, three swords, two shields and one mini-potato gun. I guess I need to buy a little storage tub to hold all of this.
Comments, anyone?
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