It happens

C has finished dinner and is sitting on the couch. N is finishing dessert (2nd helping of that, too) so I'm not sitting at the table with her anymore but getting the bath ready for C. I come back in through the living room, complaining about having to step over the lightsabers and telling them to be more careful about picking up food when it's dropped as I have found something all the way in the middle of the livingroom.

What is it, they both want to know.

I don't know but it shouldn't be out here. We've got to clean up a little better around here!

It looks like poop!

I roll my eyes. Please don't say that, especially while you're eating!

Hey, C! Mommy picked up poop! My eyes stop rolling and start glaring. N looks down. Sorry. She's trying not to laugh. But then, what is it?

In the meantime, C is rolling on the couch. Mommy picked up poop! Bwahaahaa!

I'm on my way to the trash but N still wants to know. They've had cookie-dough ice cream, cookies yesterday, we were outside earlier so it could be mud...it could be anything.

I sniff.

Oh.

Brilliant

I read somewhere (another blog?, book?, article?) that a mom admitted that her brain cells were GONE. She stated simply that during childbirth, each of her children grabbed a handful of her brain on their way out. While I only have two children, it's obvious that they took their share.

We went to the playground today and N tried a new trick--flipping her body over a bar.
C and I were very proud.

I am 35 and have a bachelor's degree in English.
I said, "Cool!"

My son is 5 and is not yet in kindergarten.
He said, "That is a brilliant idea!"

In the name of research

I've struggled with nailing down an exact year for my WIP to begin. I've played with a few different time frames where the characters could still do what they wanted to do but currently, it's beginning somewhere around 1915-1920.

Along with writing, some of my other interests are history and procrastination so research fits in quite nicely! ;)

Thinking about the time frame and my female main character yesterday, it occured to me that I could work in something about the 19th amendment (in which women in the U.S. finally gained the right to vote). With that in mind, I was off to the library! To my dismay as a reader, there were not many titles available on the subject but that's probably good for the progress of the book! During my search, I did find a small gem. (Size doesn't matter!) It's only 55 pages and much of those are photographs but it discusses the American Women's League and the Women's Republic--both of which I had never heard of. Even more fun, it shows photos of the "chapter houses" and right there, on page 29 is a photo of a building that I pass every weekday on the way to and from school! I had seen the embossed "Women's Club" on the facade of the building (which is now an attorney's office) but had no idea what the history was behind it.

I love stuff like this! I am only going to read one more page and then go back to writing!

What? Stalling? ME?!?!

Yeah, I know...

Streakin' Saturday!

My son asked me to play legos with him and I said I would as soon as he took a "potty break." He followed directions but now I'll have to catch him to play. He is stark naked, running a loop from the living room, past the front door, through the dining room and kitchen chanting "U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!"

Maybe we will see him running at the Olympics one day but this is not the way I'd imagined!

Ironic

Wednesday, before we recieved a big, black cross of ashes on our foreheads that we were to leave on for the rest of the day---we heard the gospel reading (Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18) about how we should pray quietly at home rather than loudly out in public, give alms to the poor quietly rather than announcing our donations and other suggestions on how to keep our relationship with our God between Him and us, rather than making a show for the rest of the world.

Also on Wednesday (though I was reading Tuesday's newspaper) I read an article by Donald Rumsfeld where he made the case that America needs to update it's media and public relations methods for the 21st century. He lamented the fact that even very poor neighborhoods in countries such as Tunisia had satellite dishes on nearly every balcony or rooftop and that the programming they received was largely anti-Western, making it simple for terrorists to use these media to promote their own agendas. The article was published here on page A7 of our small, local paper.
(Maybe this was announced on every network channel--I'm giving up tv for Lent--but then this should have been a news story before Wednesday...)

I decide to give up television again for Lent. The hubbie has been wanting a TiVo and called Wednesday to tell me about cable's DVR. So on the first day of Lent, I call for more info, upgrade our package to include digital television (now we get many more channels) and pick up the DVR system so we can record what we miss.

The hubbie is getting calls from recruiters as he's considering getting out of the Army next year. There are opportunities across the continent so in asking for help in narrowing his search, he asked where I would like to live. I said near the ocean. He said there's more than one. I said I'm not that picky. Either will do. Not being a coastal or southern states fan, he is more interested in looking in the midwest. I was encouraged about one that is at least on the Mississippi river but I remind him how great it would be to live by the water. Yesterday he did send me this.
(I know--this isn't really ironic. It IS water. He's trying)

[Disclaimer: the following is a petulant complaint and in the hubbie's defense, the irritating comment was uttered during an argument and we both later apologized. I'm still including it in my list of ironic events this week though.]

I do not complain too much when the hubbie is gone every other weekend and a few weeks for his MBA classes and have decided to have an open mind regarding some mid-western cities where he is job-seeking for next year to find the perfect reasons why we should live there. We are all traveling to ND for his graduation in May and as it is on a Sunday, N will miss school on the following Monday. He'd like to visit a potential job/city the day after graduation but I hesistated, worrying that N would miss two days out of the last week of school. This prompted his complaint that he gets no support.

Tuesday's menu

What's on your menu for today? I really do not spend all of my time pondering what I'm going to eat! (I take a break to find out what some of you are eating!) ;)

Last month, I asked if anyone had any traditional meals for New Year's Day and I've discussed other family and religious traditions here, too.

I was hoping for a piece of king cake today but I settled for a piece of my son's Darth Vader birthday cake instead. (It did not even come close!) Before I got to the cake, my mother called and wished me a "Happy Paczki (sounds like "punt-key") day" and apologized for not sending me a jelly-filled doughnut. I had completely forgotten about that tradition this year. I've mentioned before that my mother is half-Ukrainian but she is also half-Polish and this is a Polish tradition on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. (Actually, my online searches have taught me that the Ukrainians have a similar treat but call it pampushky.)
(While I'm presenting my report, it looks like the Polish tradition is actually to eat these on Thursday but the Polish community in Michigan, (where my mother was born) influenced by the French tradition of Fat Tuesday, moved it to Tuesday instead so I guess it is an American tradition now!) ;)

I returned with an apology for not sending her a king-cake but they're hard to come by in Kansas! The king cake is not a childhood tradition anyway, just one I acquired when living in New Orleans.

This made me wonder what others are eating after searching online, I've learned that today is also Pancake Day in a few other countries. It seems the origins behind most of these sweet, sugary breakfasts is a combination of indulging on the last day before Lent begins (where many give up sweets, desserts, etc.) and a bit of practicality--Wikipedia tells me that Pancake Day began as a way to use up eggs and milk before Lent began as they were to be avoided during that time.

Now I'm hungry and I've got to get to the store. (That's a dangerous combination!)
Maybe one year I will meet you at IHOP for National Pancake Day.

Carnival time!

And then there are parties that go on for weeks! One in particular does not end until midnight on Tuesday!

I used to say that New Orleans could find any excuse for a party and a parade but of course, nothing compares to Mardi Gras! Katrina left her mark but even that disaster couldn't keep New Orleanians from celebrating Carnival!

I'm still praying for New Orleans--especially this week. I don't know if they have the resources (hospitals, police, etc.) to keep up with Mardi Gras quite yet but I'm encouraged by their enthusiasm.

So for all my friends from New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!!! Have a piece of king cake* for me! In the spirit of the season, I've downloaded some carnival tunes and will subject the children to them after school. I would love to share some of these songs with you all but am not sophisticated enough to know how to insert audio into my blog. If one of my readers is techno-savvy enough to give me directions, I'll upload them! In the meantime, I'll just keep singing along to myself...I went on down to the Audubon Zoo and they all aksed for you...


*Looks like Haydel's isn't completely back up and running yet but I'm sure somebody is making king cakes!

It's still party time

My son invited a few friends over on Sunday for his birthday party.
We had a Darth Vader cake, made Darth Vader masks and had a grand time. After the boys left however, my son observed that it hadn’t really been a Star Wars party—just a Darth Vader party. We were on the dark side the whole time!

If I had really thought about it, I could have come up with better music than just the movie soundtrack...

The celebrations continue

I propose a toast to the happy couple -- HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to my Mom and Dad!

Of course, every kid thinks/hopes/wishes that their parents will stay married forever. Now, as an old married woman myself, I'm in awe of anyone who can even come close.

Thirty-eight years is not forever but it seems like it's close! (I'm sure some days feel closer than others...)

Congratulations, Mom and Dad! (It'll be belated by the time you read this as I'm posting it when you've only got 1.5 hours left of February 24 but it's heartfelt all the same).



****Late Night Revision****
SORRY!!! That was a bit cynical. I am sure that it feels like not a day has passed since the big day in Miami! Truly, congrats! Somewhere in there, you managed to raise five kids and you help us with the eleven grandchildren! Not a bad start at all. Of course, this is just the beginning...

I'm older but he's wiser

My baby turned FIVE today! I guess I'm going to have to stop using that word, baby.

He tells me often that he does not want to grow up. Whether it's a remaining fascination with Peter Pan or the fact that I'm not always the most organized, together example of what a grown-up should be, I'm not sure. I am certain my comments today did not help.

In response to a rather obvious question, my son's response was:

No, I don't feel any different today. I'm just a different number, not a different kid.

Eleven people on a rope

I'm cheating today and posting an email that I received from my sister.

I was requested to forward it to "an intelligent woman, so that she has something to smile about today." I know I have a few readers who fit that description!

11 PEOPLE ON A ROPE

Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter, ten men and one woman. The rope was not strong enough to carry them all, so they decided that one had to leave, because otherwise they were all going to fall.

They weren't able to name that person, until the woman gave a very touching speech. She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope, because, as a woman, she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids, or for men in general, and was used to always making sacrifices with little in return.

As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping their hands.......

I thank God for the dancing goats

I wonder if anyone has considered erecting a statue to the legendary Kaldi. No? Juan Valdez, perhaps? Whoever actually discovered the merits of the coffee bean needs some sort of recognition.

I had resolved to make some real progress on the WIP this weekend and get a draft done! I have several chapters and many more parts and pieces that I have to tie together. Putting it all together means that I have to get organized.

Unlike other members of my family who are currently organizing the spice cabinet, I am not an organized person. I have a few talents but doing things in logical, methodical manner is not something I do well.

So it is not that surprising that when I sat down to my computer, I played on the internet for a few minutes. I was looking for a movie that I want to see but that does not appear to be playing at our theater. Looking for that led me to some other sites on the same subject, which led me to some historical sites (I love history!) which led me to a new idea for a book!

Great!

No, not great. My past writing behavior has entailed coming up with a great idea, writing two chapters that lead me to a better idea at which time I put those chapters away and start on the next book. Lately, I’ve been so proud that I’ve been able to stay focused on one story for a long time now. Until today. I was mad. I wanted to start a new story. I wanted to research this one—it’s so much more interesting!

So I took a shower. (I do that occasionally). Aaahhh! The swirling, all-inspiring steam!! (Actually, I'm sure the inspiration came from all the caffeine in the pot of coffee I’ve just finished) but however the good Lord let the inspiration strike---I saw a way to work this story into the one I'm already writing!

Now to write it all down. After I get another cup of coffee. Sure, it's another momentary delay but who knows what brainstorm the next cup will inspire? Besides, with enough caffeine, I figure I can type about a thousand words a minute so I'll make up the time.

Every day miracles

My daughter experienced a miracle. At least she thinks she did.
A week ago, her brother was sick and quite miserable. She did not see how pathetic he looked, she saw the attention (and medicine) he got.

I wish I was sick too.

Do you want to sound like your brother?

No but I want grape Motrin.

You have a reading to read at Mass. If you lose your voice, someone else will have to read it.

That night, she prayed, Please, please don't let me get sick! Let me stay healthy and be able to read on Friday! The next morning, she woke feeling fine. Beaming, she announced, It's a miracle!

I am thrilled that she made the connection and believes that her prayer was answered.

Was it a miracle? Perhaps not but I am not going to dampen her seven-year-old spirit!

She is home sick today so she got her wish, too. She was able to read last Friday and this week --she got the grape Motrin!

Happy V-day and GoodNyte

As my mother says, what's the best way to get rid of a cold? Pass it on to someone else!

Well, my son is recovering as he's passed this thing on to me. This is much more than your average cold. So, I've taken to hitting the bottle! (The bottle of Nyquil, that is! It does the trick but does not enable me to stay up and blog in the evenings!)

I will catch up on my bloghopping soon. Have a Happy Valentine's Day!

Childhood Innocence

How old were you when you learned that some of the most magical beliefs of childhood were really fabrications, perpetuated by the very people who told you that it was wrong to lie?

(According to my mother, some of my nieces have asked for my blog address so just in case I have some 7-year-old readers out there, I'm going to keep this a little vague. I'm pretty sure that using words like perpetuated ought to slow them down but you never know.) I'm also fairly certain that any of my nieces or nephews actually reading my blog is another one of my mother's exaggerations but again, you never know.

My son lost his first tooth this afternoon and is now blissfully sleeping. He went to sleep well, confident that he had to be asleep before the tooth fairy would come to pay him for his tiny, beautiful tooth. His sister helped him to write a letter to put under his pillow too, asking the good fairy to leave his tooth for another week so he can show his Dad and the kids at school.

Magical times.

On the same magical day however, I had to remind/explain to my daughter that some people "out there" are sneaky.

I let her play on the internet on her own sub-account. (Which means I have set up every parental control possible as she too, is only 7.) I heard her tell her brother about some "superhero" game online and stood on the other side of the wall, listening. (I'm a bit sneaky, myself.) It was a quiz for kids on internet safety. I heard her asking her brother questions like "If someone online asks you to meet them, should you?" and "If you see pictures on the computer that you know your parents would not like, should you tell them?" I could not see the options she was given but it was great to hear "Yay! We got it right!" (Not so great to hear "whoops!" but it was only once.)

After that game, I took her brother upstairs for his bath and left her to her Hello Kitty search. Moments later, she kept yelling "MOMMY!!! COME HERE!!!" I was sure it was some new coloring page or maybe there was a new Hello Kitty movie out so while I planned to check it out, I wasn't in a rush to leave my son in the tub for the computer emergency. When I did arrive, she wanted me to know that SHE had won a NEW LAPTOP COMPUTER! The blinking ad at the top of the screen had told her so, and now she just had to fill in a few fields...

So, I had to explain that there are people who design these things to trick people and she should not fill out anything without checking with me first. "That's why I called you!" she answered quickly. "It said I WON but I only had 30 seconds to get the prize!"

What seven year old could resist that?

Your [technical] assistance, please

Does anyone know how I can have Blogger send me an email when someone comments on my posts?

I put my email address in the box where it says "We will email you at this address when someone leaves a comment on your blog." However, I have never received an email from Blogger. Am I missing another step?

It is certainly not critical. I can scroll down through each of my posts but I don't always do this daily. So I occasionally get behind on replying to comments. If anyone has any helpful advice, I'd greatly appreciate it.

THANKS!

helpful, She tries to be

Wednesday night C just kept coughing in bed. While I used to force my daughter to take medicine when I thought it was necessary, any type of coercion just backfires with my son. (That kid has his own "force" and will willfully refund anything he does not want to swallow.)However, that night the coughing was nonstop and I knew I had to get him to take something.

My husband suggested putting the cough medicine in his water. I've done this with his Motrin on occasion but I didn't think the cough medicine would work well diluted. It was flavored water though, so thinking he might not detect the medicine and it was better than nothing, we gave it a try. He drank several sips and while he did not get the whole dose, he was sleeping quietly within minutes.

So we all got to go to sleep. The next morning, when he did not want to get up, I told him he could just wear his jacket over his pajamas and stay in the car while we took his sister to school. He grabbed his water bottle on the way to the car.
Taking a sip during the ride, he whined, "Mommy, when I'm sick my water tastes like medicine. Even my juice tastes like medicine!" (I had put berry flavored Motrin in his apple juice one day).
My daughter, ever observant, looked over and explained, "Of course your water tastes funny. It's pink."

She went back to looking out the window quietly and I could not believe that was the end of it. It took a full 10 seconds for what she'd said to bounce around the car for a moment and then hit her. "MOMMY!! His WATER is PINK!!! That CAN'T be GOOD!"

(Flavored or not, WATER should not have a COLOR! )

However, she quickly noted my lack of alarm as I tried to change the subject: "Hey, look at those birds over there!"

"But...Mom..?"

"Is today library day at school, Sweetie?"

Momentary silence. Then she gets it. "Mom? Did you put MEDICINE in C's water bottle?"

"Sssh."

"You did! C, don't drink it! She put medicine in there!"

By now, C is looking queasy. He manages to croak out a "WHAT?!?!?!"

She is trying to be a wise, protective force for her brother but still lacks the wisdom to use The Force effectively.

Better, He is

My son has been sick all week. My daughter has the sniffles and an acute sense that she is not getting her share of attention.

C has needed many more hugs, someone to sleep in his bed with him and finally, when he feels a little better--someone to play toys with him. After having him home all week from school, we've spent much time playing with toys and watching Star Wars Episode II. (Star Wars is the latest fascination--hence the title of this post. Even when the television and the lightsaber that speaks are off, I still keep hearing Yoda's voice in my head!)

I did get a chuckle yesterday when, surrounded by Star Wars figures, Buzz Lightyear figures and many of Buzz's friends from Toy Story, my son was worried he'd be "all alone" when I went to, ahem, powder my nose. After honestly being with this kid 24/7, I thought he could handle five minutes with the dozens of little friends surrounding him. As he started sobbing, coughing and trying to yell (he had no voice) "Mommy, don't go! I will be all alone!" I simply, cheerfully said, "Yup."

He looked a bit surprised but then was fine. He played alone in there for at least ten minutes before coming to look for me.

My daughter did the first reading at Mass today. We were there, even got that part on video for Dad but had to leave halfway through the mass as C still wasn't feeling great. So we were there to see her process in and for her big moment but didn't stay to watch her carry the special book back out of church. She really isn't getting her share of attention this week.

The beat goes on

Do you find yourself still living in a novel days after you've finished reading the book? If it's a good one, I do. I just don't want to let go of the characters quite yet. Or in this case, I can't let go of an object. The haunting rhythm that beats quietly throughout The Painted Drum did not stop sounding when I closed the book.

The other night, my son and I were sleeping in the livingroom. (He's sick but that's another story). At some point during the night, the front cover to our furnace popped off. (I believe that is the technical phrase that repair experts use--"it popped off.") Of course, I was unaware of the source of the problem. I was aware that I was freezing and no matter what I reset the heater to, it would not turn on. I considered going to the garage to see if the fuse switch was off or to the basement to investigate but I knew both areas were colder than where I was, I was exhausted and everyone else was sleeping fine so I tried to curl up on our cooling leather couch.

I thought again about a few young characters in The Painted Drum who are waiting in their small, cold home for their mother to return one winter evening. The oldest daughter wants to turn the heat up but her mother has gone to arrange for some more heating fuel. The daughter had been told that there was just enough fuel to last until her mother returned as long as they did not turn the heat higher. As I lay on our leather couch, which felt colder by the minute, I reflected on how lucky I am. Not only can I go get another blanket out of a closet but I knew the heating problem was some sort of physical problem that we would fix. So many others have no heat because it's something they cannot afford.

We have an agency here in town that assists people who need help finding enough food or enough money to pay their heating bills. Most of our local churches donate money each month to the program but I will call today to see how else I can help. It is sad that in this country where many have so much, so many go without.

Which leads me back to The Painted Drum once more. Louise Erdrich creates very real characters with very human flaws and is also able to use them to comment on larger communities and our society. The same mother who went out for heating fuel also considers having sex for money so she can buy food to bring home. A local war veteran makes the comment later: I want to know something. Why I saw men die for oil in this country where a woman has to sell herself for bread and peanut butter.

Lines like that tend to haunt me for a while.

The Painted Drum

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. you have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could.

The quote above is not why I asked for the book. The quote above is one that I found when I thought I was finished with the book.

When I reached what I thought was the end, there was another chapter to go. As I read it, I recognized that the writer saw the need to wrap things up, to end where she'd started and tie up any loose ends. I like a few loose ends--they make me think more about the characters and their situations. So I was skimming through the last chapter, already planning to tell you all that the book should have ended a few pages earlier, when I got to the quote at the top. The quote is from Faye Travers, the first and last character we meet in the book, and it is what she imagines that her mother could tell her, rather than simply saying "good night."

There are three separate, vivid tales within this one novel. The link between the three stories and families is the drum. The drum contains the spirit of a young girl -- a spirit strong enough to save the lives of many others. Whether this girl was sacrificed to save her baby sister or gave her own life willingly to save her younger brother is left to the reader to decide. There is no doubt that she was and is a strong, protective force.

In two of the stories, we see how the loss of a child affects various family members. In the third we watch a desperate mother almost lose her children twice.

As compelling as these stories are, Erdrich enhances them with intimate details of wildlife as well. Her accounts of ravens made me feel like I was back in Fairbanks, where the ravens--who do laugh like humans--were everywhere. Her ravens live in New England but their actions captivated me more than the human characters on many pages. Wolves, dogs and even a bear have important roles in this spirited novel as well.

This is only the second of Ms. Erdrich's many novels that I have read but it will not be the last.

...a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet

Who did you want to be when you were growing up? This is not about what you wanted to accomplish but who you wanted to be.

When I was in elementary school, I thought Lory was a boring name. Dorky, if you will. I didn't mind my real first name but it's longer and by then everyone was calling me Lory anyway. I know, it's not bad and even a little original in it's spelling. Original names are always misspelled, which takes away the unique quality. There was always at least a Lori and a Laurie in my class with me.

So when I was pregnant with my first child, my husband came home from work with a new, exciting original name. Madison. I liked it. It was unique but hard to misspell. You didn't expect it for a girl but it sounded cool. As I nodded my head, I asked where he had come up with such a name. It had been the name of one of his young patients that morning. Oh.

Still, so what if one other child in the city had the same name? In the following week however, we met two Madisons at the playground. Another was at the hospital. I talked to my sister that week who told me that her pregnant friend (due the same time as both of us) was going to have a girl and name her Madison.

It seemed that Madison was the new name for 1998 so I promptly rejected it. I was glad when we met a few more in Alaska. My daughter would not be one of 4 or 5 other Madisons in her class!

She is now in second grade and of course, she has not had a Madison in her class yet.
She told me this morning that she is sick of her name and wants to change it. "Well, your middle name is beautiful, too," I suggested.

"Nope. I wish I had a different name."

"What do you wish we had named you?"

"Madison."

Of course.

"Do you know anyone named Madison?"

"No."

"Why do you want your name to be Madison?"

"It's cooler than my name."

I sigh. "It's funny. We thought about naming you Madison."

"I know. You told me before. But you messed up and gave me my name. I'm changing my name to Madison."

She typed up "Madison" in a huge font on the computer this morning, printed it several times and has put it on her bulletin board and taped it to her bedroom door. She is answering to the name "Madison" today.

Technical difficulties

Please bear with us. My son is experiencing technical difficulties.

Our son's nickname has been "little buddy" since he was born. It has been a pretty good fit. He is usually a very laid back, easy going kid. Until this week. I realize that children occasionally regress as they're acquiring a new skill, adjusting to a new situation in their life or maybe even a growth spurt. The only event I can see in the near future is his birthday (in 3 weeks) but there have been no other major changes in his life that I know of. However, now that my "little" boy is about to turn 5, he throws a screaming tantrum when I ask him to do things for himself. Now, in the interests of fairness, perhaps I am expecting too much. I have asked him to do such things as: put your PJs in the laundry basket, put your own underwear on and go to the bathroom.

This morning he screamed "I CAN'T DO IT" when I asked him to put his own pants on. I have learned that screaming back will not get the pants on his body. (I am a slow learner but I'm capable of grasping these things eventually). I explained that if he said he could not, he was right. If he tried however, he might be surprised.

Blank look and then more screaming. "I TOLD YOU I CAN'T DO IT!"

I gave up. I picked up the underwear, jeans and half-naked child and put them all in his room.
"You can't run around naked and screaming either," I explained. "I'm shutting the door but you may come out when you are wearing pants."

(He made it out in 30 seconds, dressed.)

Is it the fear of this fifth birthday? He wants me to dress him, undress him, take his coat off, get him a glass a water, wash his hands...

He used to be so proud that he could do all of these himself but I guess the fascination is over. It's hell growing up.

Beetle juice

When I tell people that I am a vegetarian, someone will ask me if I still eat eggs, another will ask about dairy and another will ask me if I eat chicken or fish.
(The answers are yes, yes, no and occasionally).
Simple enough. Animals or animal protein on your plate is usually fairly obvious.

Except for the occasional calamari appetizer, people rarely ask me about ingesting creatures who had more than four legs. After reading Misfit Hausfrau's entry today however, I might need to start looking in my cup of yogurt or glass of juice, just in case anyone asks!

God Bless Her

She is sleeping peacefully now. My daughter was in quite a mood today after school and after her incessant whining and complaining, my mood was not much better. I finally took a deep breath and reminded myself that this is one nervous kid.

She makes her First Reconciliation tomorrow morning. As I've mentioned, she attends Catholic school so she has been preparing for this with her class for quite a while. However, her class received the sacrament while we were in Florida so while she will be doing this with other second graders at our church, she does not know these children.

(She still goes into the confessional alone but she can't turn to her friends for moral support first!) ; )

While I can't imagine she's done too much that I don't know about, she's ready to go as long as my son and I "can't hear through the door." She was in a bit of a panic at bedtime about whether or not to kneel or stand when she goes in and makes the sign of the cross. Seeing the relief on her face when I simply told her "I'm certain either way will be just fine" she ought to feel GREAT when she unburdens anything else!

Poor thing. She was trying to explain to her piano teacher what she'd be doing on Saturday. Her piano teacher is married to a minister but they aren't Catholic and no matter how many times my daughter said "reconciliation," her teacher had no concept of what she was talking about. I reminded her that N goes to Catholic school and that this was her first confession and if she still didn't get it, she didn't let on this time.

Of course, my daughter thought everyone had to do this. On the car ride home, I tried to use the opportunity to explain some of the differences between Catholicism and Protestant religions. I explained that while she'd be confessing her sins to the priest and receiving absolution (assurance that God has forgiven her) some people of other faiths confess their sins directly to God without any intermediaries. She thinks she'd now like to be either Baptist or Lutheran.

Objects in the Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

And you may ask yourself, how did I get here?

15 years ago, I did not own a car. I walked, rode the streetcar or got a ride from my boyfriend. During the week, I’d get off the streetcar to get a few things at the K&B drugstore by my apartment, and walk home carrying my purchases. I was careful not to hold the purple bag too close to my body as the purple ink would rub off on my clothes.
On the weekends, I’d walk to the Superstore. The prices were much better than the drugstore but the streetcar did not run there. I was careful to only buy what would fit in those little baskets with the handles as I knew if I bought any more, I could not carry it all the way home. (I did not always have cash for a cab but I had my checkbook! I knew I could walk to the grocery store near payday as it’d take a day or two for the check to clear.)

14 years ago, I was driving a brand-new car. It was safe and reliable. My baby was not the dark black car I’d wanted but she was charcoal gray and that was close. The only complaint my boyfriend could find with it (other than how I got “taken” on the financing) was that there was no mirror on the passenger side of the car.
Having my own car gave me so much independence! However, there is a price for freedom. (Namely, car payments and car insurance payments.) I went from wondering if I'd have to work late each night to hoping that I would! (I needed the overtime).

Monday, I backed out of our garage quickly (it was another race to get to my daughter to school on time) and smacked the driver’s side mirror on the side of the garage. The mirror did not break but the mounting was cracked and I could no longer move the mirror.

Yesterday, I drove two hours to the nearest Volvo dealership so that they could professionally install a new mirror on our leased vehicle. It cost $*!%^&*##!* (or roughly the equivalent of one month's car payment and insurance payment for my first car) plus a tank of gas for the trip there and back.

Today I realize that I have been very blessed and am lucky to be living this life. Rather than shaking my head over going to get a new side-view mirror I need to be thankful that I was able to. Now I need to remember to slow down and walk more.

Another Tale from the [Mother]Hood

Since I have become a parent, I hear words coming out of my mouth that I simply never thought would go together.

Today's example:

Son, please do not put your penis on the Yahtzee game.

*sigh*

Quote for Today

A writer doesn’t solve problems.
[S]he allows them to emerge.
~ Friedrich Dürrenmatt

Can You Hear Me?

I tell my son to go to the bathroom. He does not move.
Son, can you hear me?
Yes, but I don’t have to go.
That isn’t what I asked you. Before you get dressed, go to the bathroom.
After we repeat this two more times, he goes to the restroom.

I tell my daughter to get dressed for church. She continues the computer game she is playing.
Sweet Pea, can you hear me?
Yes but I can’t save this unless I win the level.
I did not ask you if you could win or save the game. Go get dressed.
We repeat this one more time before she closes the game and goes upstairs to stare at her closet.
After I ask yet one more time, she starts to pick out a skirt. It’s progress.

Later the same day, I say, I am going upstairs to write one amazing chapter.
Instead, I go upstairs and visit a few blogs. I add myself to Mary P’s map of readers but as I view where other people are from, my computer freezes.
I reboot and go to get a drink from the kitchen.
I thought you were writing, my husband says.
I did not do what I said I would and the computer froze on me. NOW I really am going to write. It will be amazing.

I come back upstairs. I remember my uncle told me about “Google Earth.” It seems like it’d be like Mary P’s map and I want to check it out. It zooms me in to North America and again, my computer locks up. I can’t click on a thing. I turn it off and go to put a load of laundry in the washer while the computer boots up again.
I thought you were writing, my husband repeats.
I don’t listen to me any better than our kids, I reply. I said I’d stay off the internet, I went back anyway and the computer is not having it. It locked up on me again. I’m going back and THIS TIME I’m just going to open Word.

I come back and the computer is ready. I see the pretty new Google Earth icon. I click on it. I type in “Kansas”. It zooms in to Kansas and freezes. Stops. Dead. I can’t click on a thing.
I don’t go back downstairs again. I know the question that awaits me there. I grab my book to read a page while the computer reboots again. I hear a question in my mind:
Can you hear me?

W at KSU!

Yes, the president will be here on Monday! I doubt I'll catch a glimpse of the man though as we did not learn he was coming until two days after students had been camping out to get tickets!

As you may know, I am not a fan of the man. My daughter and hubbie are though and it would be something to say they'd seen the president.

My daughter was mildly impressed when I told her I'd seen the first President Bush (or the president formerly known as President Bush but now referred to as "Bush 41"). He was serving as the vice-president when I saw him. Our highschool band was selected to play in the airplane hangar when he arrived in Florida many moons ago. It was not exactly a personal introduction but it's good enough for my seven-year-old!

We did not make it when Gorbachev was here last year either. (I was more interested in that one but did not find out until the day of the event. I have got to start paying more attention!)

What's the Frequency, Kenneth?

First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.
~ Robert Cecil Day-Lewis

I’ve gotten excited about this WIP. I even completed an outline a few months ago, which is something I’ve never accomplished before. Previously, I would write a chapter or two and move on to another idea.
I am not sticking to the outline but it’s a good guide when I’m stuck. One character that I had intended to exist for a few paragraphs, possibly a page or two has taken over the thing. Another irritating yet compelling character has appeared out of nowhere. I never meant to put her in there and I don’t know what to do with her yet but every time I do open the file, she’s up to something.
I have not worked on the file in over a week. Of course, we traveled out-of-town for a few days so I was busy packing/stressing beforehand and I’m still unpacking and washing laundry afterwards but I’m sure I could have found time to write a page or two. I’ve found time to complete three crosswords so I’m sure I could have managed it.
Which brings me to the quote at the top of this post. I came across it today, glaring at me from the bottom of page 9 of the latest Writer’s Digest. It occurred to me that perhaps I’m not stalling because I don’t know what to write next but rather that I’m a little afraid to see just what this one character will do. She is not nice. I suppose her presence balances things out a little. The other main female character is far too nice.
Continuing to write will help me understand the characters, of course, but perhaps I’m also nervous about what those characters will have to say about me.

He ain't heavy...

...he's my brother! Ain't he cute? I took the photo myself. (I got out my Kodak camera, snapped the flash cube on top and starting taking pictures! So it is not necessarily digital quality but that wasn't an option when I was twelve!)

This cute little guy is getting married on Saturday! (He looks a little different now).

We are off to Florida for the wedding. Maybe I will post a higher-quality photo when we return! Have a great weekend!

The time has come...to de-lurk!

The holidays are over, you're getting back into your routine...your bloghopping routine, that is. This week, when you stop by, please say hi!

(As I stopped by Angela's site this morning, I learned that it's de-lurking week! So I said hello and followed her link to another great blog to add to my growing list of sites to see!)

Share your favorite book, song or movie. Tell us a little about yourself...or don't! At least post who you are and if you have a blog, leave the link...I will visit!

I am SO glad she goes to Catholic school!

I was lecturing my son on his behaviour in Mass this morning so of course, my daughter was momentarily left out of the conversation. Determined to both be included and show her brother how much better she'd behaved, she wanted me to know she'd been listening this morning.

N: I know something that Father said in church today.
Me: I'm glad you were listening. What did Father talk about?
N: He talked about the three wise men.
Me: Yes, he did. Good. What did he say about them?
(hmmm....she pauses...)
N: They came to bring gifts to baby Jesus!
(she's proud)
Me: What gifts did they bring?
N: Gold! And frankincense!
(she's very proud)
Me: That's good. You mentioned two gifts but each wise man brought something. What was the third gift?
N: Ummm....gold, frankincense and...murder!

Epiphany

I love it when things come together.

I’ve been reading bits of Walking the Bible, sharing the journey with the author. As he finds more “proof” for the characters and events that are depicted in the Bible, it feels thrilling. I feel like I’m on the verge of a discovery myself.

Yesterday, in when I made a comment about The Epiphany to my daughter’s piano teacher, she summarized a presentation she’d been to recently by a renowned astronomer who illustrated, through computers and large screens how the planets aligned a little over 2,000 years ago on what had to be December 25. She repeated his explanation that these planets can only align this way once in so many thousands of years and they’ve determined that the last time they would have done so would have been at that time.
Using the large tv/computer screens, he showed what the night sky would have looked like when these planets all aligned -- like an incredibly bright star.

So I Googled that today and learned a little before going bloghopping. A post on Simply Put led me to Q’s blog, Ragged Glory. There, I learned a lot more about how the date, December 25, was assigned to the birth of Christ. I also learned that some observe January 6 as the birthday of the baby Jesus. My family has always called this date “Little Christmas.” My mother’s family observed a Christmas celebration on this day when she was growing up. Her mother had been brought up in the Ukrainian Orthodox Catholic church and observed January 6 as Christmas but I thought it was due to the arrival of the Magi on this date. (Having no cars, it took them 12 days to get to the spot that the star had illuminated for them…)

I went to Mass this morning where we celebrated the Feast of the Epiphany, recognizing that this is the day those wise men arrived. While that may be true, that isn’t where the Orthodox Church got the date. Q explains beautifully where these dates originated. I’m still marveling at this post. The explanation is logical, symbolic and almost seems obvious now…and yet I’ve never heard this information before.

Every once in a while, I will hear a song more than once in the same day and, because I’m just that weird, it occurs to me that perhaps Someone is trying to get my attention for one reason or another.
At three different times today, I heard the same song playing on the car radio. As I do tend to change stations often in the car, this is not all that remarkable. If it were the latest pop hit or yet another carol on this day, I would understand. It was not. It was Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven. This song holds no personal attachment for me – it was a hit when my grandmother passed away and my younger brother suggested having it played at the funeral – but that’s as far as attached memories go. However, because the song is what it is, it does lead my mind in that direction and I wonder…

Webster’s has three definitions for the word “Epiphany.” I love that I can use all three definitions in discussing some part of my day today.

Everything keeps falling into place today. It has been a bright albeit cold day. I only had a few things I had to get done and they’re done. I wanted to write more on the WIP but I wrote some and had a new revelation for one of the main characters so that helps a lot. (I felt like I was learning some really cool things today that I can also justify as research for this character! I love it when that happens!)

So after sending one child off to a friend’s house after school and watching the other nod off for a nap, I started to wonder at all the connections. Is it just a really good day?
Then I had my epiphany: it is The Epiphany. It is a special day.

Meme

Just as I was wondering how one is actually tagged in this game…I find I’m one of five people who are now “it!” So as I join the game, I get to tag a few more people…

Remove the top blog from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom.

Becky
Childsplayx2
The Weirdgirl
It's Not All Mary Poppins
Lory’s blog

Select five people to play (entirely voluntary, of course)
Angela
Aaron
Kacey
Rene
Sarah

What were you doing ten years ago?
I had been living in Washington state for six months. I had a job (that I hated) in Seattle (which I loved). By this time, I had a few friends that I worked with but no real good friends in my new home just yet. My hubbie and I were renting a townhouse in Tacoma and shared it with our dog, who we had allowed to become the real head of the household!
The hubbie and I were doing OK at this point. I had moved to Washington state with him the previous summer, despite telling him and myself that I would not.
Later in the year, the hubbie would go to Korea for a year and things would improve even more! (I know that sounds terribly sarcastic but we actually communicated better with the entire Pacific Ocean between us!)
So for the second half of the year…I was still married but living alone for a year. I quit the job that I hated and worked for a temp agency. (That gave me the freedom to visit hubbie in Korea twice). I finally made some really good friends in Washington state and began to call it home.
While I still answered “Catholic” when asked my religion, I was not attending church very regularly.

What were you doing one year ago?
I’d been living in Kansas for six months and while we’d lost our dog long ago, we were now a family of four.
I still had not completed the novel but I had two great kids keeping me busy and at this point, I was watching another little boy in our home every Monday. At this time in January, I was also preparing to visit my husband for the “spouses weekend” at Notre Dame University. Having completed all of his medical training he was now embarking on a new course…the MBA. He’d been up there for almost a week but the weekend entailed some “classes” for the spouses to prepare us for the next 15 months of our lives. (Having not only worked through the issues from the last entry, but also being with him through college, medical school, residency and the moves that go with Army life…I was pretty sure I knew how to handle him being back in school…again. However, it was still a break from the kids while I met some new, friendly people and learned how to “spot signs of stress in my spouse or myself.” ) The campus is quite beautiful.
I was attending mass twice a week and involved in an all-faith bible study twice a month.

Five snacks you enjoy.

1. Popcorn (yes, with real butter)

2. Cheetos

3. Chips and dip (just about any type of chip or dip!)

4. Anything that has cheese in it, has cheese on top of it or something I can dip into cheese

5. Nuts

Five songs to which you know all the lyrics.(All the correct lyrics? Do I have to be able to sing them without the music?!?)

1. I'm Henry the VIII I Am (Herman’s Hermits)

2. Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans? (Louis Armstrong, Harry Connick, Jr)

3. Blue Skies (Irving Berlin’s) (at least I know the words the way Ella sings ‘em!)

4. Most songs sung by the Beatles

5. Hark the Herald Angels Sing (and maybe another Christmas carol or two…)

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire.

1. Buy my parents a new house

2. Buy my parents a new car

3. Give each of my siblings a little bit

4. Sponsor children and support more charities

5. If there was anything left, buy a house on the beach.

Five bad habits.

1. Yell at my kids.

2. Blame my husband when I can’t find something, then go back and apologize when I find it (right where I left it). If I could just keep my mouth shut, it’d save us both a lot of aggravation !

3. Remind my husband when he comes up with a “great idea” that I suggested months ago. (He forgets and then thinks it’s new). Again, if I could keep my mouth shut, I could probably get anything I want! ; )

4. Drink too often. (Not necessarily too much but too often. I’m already working on this one in 2006)

5. I’m disorganized.

Five things you like doing.

1. Reading

2. Writing

3. Playing the piano

4. Reading to/playing with my kids

5. Hanging out with the hubbie (without the kids)!

Five things you would never wear or buy again.

1. White shoes. I see no reason

2. A bikini (used to love them but now there is no point in wearing something purely to frighten people)

3. short shorts (see above)

Otherwise, never say never!!

Five favourite toys.

1. The computer

2. Hubbie’s Ipod

3. Piano

4. My kids (OK—they aren’t actually toys but they’re usually much more amusing!)

5. Five? I don't have enough toys! (Though there are more than enough in this house to go around!!)

Black eyed peas

These "peas"...

...not these!

Enjoying black-eyed peas on New Year's Day is a Southern tradition. The idea is that if you eat them on January 1st, you will be prosperous during the year.
No one else in my family was interested in eating them last year so I found a new recipe. They were kind enough to appear interested this time but never got around to actually trying them. If it brings me luck or a buck, of course I will share!

In truth, I guess none of us are southerners anyway!
I was born in south Florida and grew up in north Florida but no one else considers any part of that state "the South." (The fact that it is south of much of the rest of the country makes no difference!) Most of the state is comprised of transplants from somewhere else! My mom is originally from Michigan and my Dad is from Maryland.
My husband was born in Texas though both of his parents were born and grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana. He moved all over the world as a kid while his Dad was in the Army.
Both of my children were born in Washington state so that's not even close!

Still, when it comes to customs: you don't have to be a native of the area where the tradition originated to still practice it, right?
Do you follow any particular rituals at the beginning of a new year?

Party time, continued...

Do you have the day off today? Are you still celebrating? My hubbie and kids will be.
We'll spend some family time doing something fun today...until the game, that is. All else will stop at 4pm CST and at least half of the family will revolve around the Fiesta Bowl.

(My son may lose patience with it and I'm hoping to get a little writing done then, despite the cheering from downstairs. My hubbie has always been a Notre Dame fan, long before he was a student but our daughter has become quite dedicated herself!)

I hope you are enjoying the first days of 2006!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! I hope 2006 brings you much love and happiness.

If you're watching television tonight, you may get a glimpse of our part of the world!
Fox News will show the little apple drop from Aggieville here in Manhattan, Kansas ("The Little Apple").

Have a safe, fun evening! Here's to 2006!

I plan to plan

As we wrap up this year and begin planning for the next, many of us make plans to improve our lives.

Some of my previous New Year's resolutions have been grand: this will be the year I finish the Great American novel! Some of my resolutions have been small: I will keep in touch with people a little more than the year before, even if it is just via email.
There have been many, of course, and I usually give up on just about all of them by February.
It is not because they are unattainable. I have learned to set reasonable goals.
However, I have never planned to meet those goals.

I met a very busy woman a few years ago. She's great. She's a busy mom, busy volunteer, busy military wife...but she gets things done. While serving on a volunteer committee with her one year, I noted the way she ended all of her notes and emails to us:
Remember--if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

That really irritated me. I don't plan.

My husband has suggested from time to time, that I should make a plan. Of course, he is a great planner so I figure he plans enough for the both of us.

When he asks what I have done on a certain day, I often answer, you know, I had grand plans... Of course, we both know it's a lie because I have no plans. Even on busy days when I have much to accomplish--he'll ask what's the plan for your day today and I will rattle off my long to-do list but I still do not have a plan. I stumble about the day and usually get it all done.

After reading Rene's post on time management, I was struck by her idea of making herself accountable for her time. I realize that for your organized planners out there, this is a no brainer but for me, the light clicked on.

When 2006 rolls in, I will have a plan laid out for my time. Rather than throwing in a load of laundry (and doing a crossword or two) and then determining if I have time to write or exercise, I will have set times to get those things accomplished. I won't do it so I have an answer for my husband or for you but because I should hold myself accountable for doing the things I that I claim are important. At least, that's the plan.

Another lazy post

Your New Year's Resolutions

1) Get a pet frog 2) Eat more cheese 3) Travel to Italy 4) Study abnormal psychology 5) Get in shape with pilates

What Should Your New Year's Resoluton Be?

Reindeer games

You Are Dancer

Carefree and fun, you always find reasons to do a happy dance. Why You're Naughty: That dark stint you had as Santa's private dancer. Why You're Nice: You're friendly. Very friendly.

Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You?

Revision is key

The most important part of writing is rewriting.
Whether it is for The Great American Novel or a lame anniversary gift, it always holds true.

I thank those of you who tried to help me with my attempt to write 12 pages of 12 facts about the number twelve for my twelfth anniversary. The reason it was so hard was because it was not a great idea. Working through it though, the last three pages were not only salvageable but much more relevant. So...the hubbie did not get twelve pages of anything.

He did get a homemade card with three pages: Twelve new things we did on our honeymoon, Twelve new things I've done since I married you, and Twelve things I expect during the next 12 years. Beside each list, I copied a photo of a wine label from 1993. The cover page had the image at the top of this post, entitled "Wine and Still Life, 1993" by Diantha York-Ripley.

It all came together in the end and I thank you for your advice and/or positive vibes!

HELP!!!

Speaking of being busy...remember that grasshopper who could not be bothered during the summer to collect food and had to beg the ants the following winter?

Well...this grasshopper has been busy with...well, too many things to list here now but I have not spent enough time coming up with the creative anniversary present this year.

Oh, all right! Truth be told, I never come up with that creative idea until December anyway. I thought a dozen years of marriage deserved something especially creative and I've come up with something...but I've come up short.

Don't judge me. I'm a dork and I know it but I've got like 26 hours left and I need help.
Here's what I've got: 12 bottles of wine for his putting up with 12 years of my whining.

Some are from where we went for our honeymoon, some are from places we have visited or lived, some have the name of a famous golfer on them and some are just there because he'll like them.
Lacking anything else remotely clever, I thought I'd wrap a piece of paper around each bottle. Each piece of paper would list twelve interesting facts relating to the number twelve in some fashion.

SO...here is where my dedicated blog readers, friends and relatives come in! Remember that "plan" in the last paragraph? The one with 12 interesting facts on 12 separate pages?
I have 10 pages but only ONE page actually has 12 items on it. If you have anything interesting (a fact, a story, a joke, ANYTHING...that relates to the number 12 in ANY WAY, could you send it along?)

How does this help?
1. Gets me closer to my list of 144 "interesting" things to wrap around 12 bottles
2. Gives me another page (in my quest for 12 pages) as I will devote a page to all the people who helped me with this!!! Come on! I know there are 12 helpful souls out there who will help a girl out!

I know what you're thinking.
1. Why bother?
2. You've just posted this on the internet so the jig is up.

I have the answers.
1. As discussed previously, I'm a dork. A sleepy one who should be in bed but who, instead, just poured another glass of wine so there really isn't any logic involved here whatsoever.
2. a) Hubbie rarely has time to read the blog (has too much to read already)
b) IF he were to read it, he'd use his laptop, which he left here with me so he can't access it at all until tomorrow evening....

So if I can just get this done in the next 19 hours, I'll be OK! If he should happen to wander over to my blog and read my "plan", I can just give him the gift six hours early.
If you have a fact, joke, mathematical equation...anything involving the number twelve that cannot be found on Wikipedia and feel like sharing, you will have both my gratitude and a spot on my page of the "12 Most Helpful People" who helped me pull this stupid thing off. (Hurry, though! I'm not listing 13 people!)

(Yes, I will)

...or are you TOO BUSY?

In my hesitation to get off of the computer and on with my day, I found this.

(I find it just a little disconcerting that I can relate to a frog.)

Are you busy?

Are you glad it’s Friday? Do you still have many things to accomplish today? I should be shopping, wrapping and putting together some sort of amazing anniversary present.
So, of course, here I am…online.

Are there any other procrastinators out there? Here are a few links to visit so you’ll look busy!

Hanukkah Trivia Quiz
(I am embarrassed to admit I only got 60% correct with a score of 167 points)
Christmas Trivia Quiz
(I managed to do a little better here at 80%, 238 points)
December Trivia Quiz
(I should have quit while I was ahead with the Christmas quiz, as I ended up with 70%, 310 points on this one)

Have a fantastic Friday! I have to go now because I am really, really busy!

Tiny tyrant

Son: He's mean and always comes to me and hits me.
Mom: Can you stay out of his way?
Son: He finds me.
Mom: Does he bother other kids in the class?
Son: Not "S." S is the boy in my class that never listens. That's why they're friends. The people who don't listen are friends and they don't like the good kids.
Mom: Does this mean boy hit your friend "J?"
Son: No, because J is strong and can defend himself.
(J does have two older siblings, so I'm sure this is true. My son takes Taekwondo but has not made the connection that any of those cool moves could be used defensively.)
Mom: You're strong, too. Maybe you could block him.
Son: I could kick him!
Mom: (Whoops!!) No, no! I don't want you to kick him.
Son: He hits me!
Mom goes through the whole 2 wrongs don't make a right discussion and reminds son that if he is seen kicking, he will be the one to get into trouble.
Daughter: Maybe you could just run away from him!
Mom: (likes daughter's suggestion but is afraid it won't solve the problem) You could try that. Have you asked him not to hit you?
Son: No
Mom: Maybe he thinks you're really tough and you don't mind. (Mom is hoping the "hits" are like a punch on the upper arm). Tell this boy it hurts and you want him to stop.
Son: Maybe I could try to give him a hug!

Mom is speechless for a moment but gives her son a big hug!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(I don't want to make my child "easy prey" but I just love his optimism!)

This has just started since the children are playing indoors more often with other classes. (When it was warmer and they played outside more often, this did not seem to be a problem.)

For the second time this week, my son did not want to go to school because he did not want to deal with the mean kid. So I did talk with his teacher this morning. I did not have his name but when I told her it was "S's friend from another classroom" she knew who I meant. Apparently she said "he is a tiny child who thinks he's better than the other kids and picks on all of them." (My son will never be the tallest kid on the block but the fact that a preschool teacher mentioned that the bully is "tiny" at least makes me feel better that he isn't holding my son up against the wall by his shirt collar!)

Apparently this boy has been shuffled between classes a couple of times for similar problems. His parents have been told but don't believe their little darling could be causing trouble.

I went to public school

I do get pleasure out of the little things. (Sometimes, I'll admit, they're rather inane little things). My mother, rather than tell me that outright, would often just grin and say little things please little minds!

I am not pleased today and it is over the littlest thing.

Somehow I have made it this far in life assuming (there I go again) that "littlest" was not a word. When my daughter triumphs over her brother in a board game or race, as I remind her to stop gloating (he may be bigger than her one day), I've also quietly told her that he is smaller but he isn't "littler" because that is not a word.

So she greatly enjoyed her victory yesterday when I tried to correct her homework. She was to write five sentences, using at least two spelling words in each sentence. I told her to fix number two because she had written "littlest," which is not actually a word.

She presented her spelling list and showed me that it is not only a word but also a spelling word this week!

As I muttered comments about education today and her teacher's inattention, I pulled out the big dictionary. (To be fair, the little one leaves lots of things out!)
There they were. Both littler and littlest are apparently legitimate, correct words in the English language.

I then decided that these must be recent additions.(You know, the way that "muggle" is now in the dictionary too after the success of the Harry Potter series). However, I was wrong once again. My little dictionary was revised in 1984 and the words are there too. Even if it was new then, I've had plenty of time to get up to speed.

Maybe my little mind is a bit littler than I thought.

The REAL reason for the season

All right. I've whined publicly about how busy this month gets and hopefully I've gotten the complaints out of my system. Because, of course, I really don't have much to complain about.

I do know what is important. I enjoy the fact that my children are starting to understand just a little bit too. While the five-minute discussion I had yesterday with my daughter about whether or not the baby Jesus should be placed in the Nativity display now or Christmas Eve does not constitute a real philosophical debate, we were discussing what it is we are celebrating.

Yet after reading a particular post yesterday afternoon, I still find myself wondering if we stress the really important aspects enough. While I am still shocked to hear that some churches will be closed on Christmas Day, I cannot cast any stones at anyone else. While my family attends Mass each Christmas, I will admit that we attend the "children's Mass" on Christmas Eve rather than making it there early Christmas Day. It is convenient. The children actually pay attention to some parts so we have a chance to relax and pay attention too. We say our thanks and our prayers that evening so we don't have to pull hyper children or our exhausted selves away from the packages and stockings early the next morning.

So if I don't make the effort on Christmas morning, I cannot deride others for not going either. Ministers have families too. I understand that they would want to share a quiet Christmas morning with their families. However, I also assume (which is a bad thing to do) that ministers are in touch with both the real reason for celebrating Christmas and the needs of their church families. What message will it send to the people who ARE willing to go to church early on Christmas morning when they find that the doors to their church, rather than being open and welcoming, are locked?

Thanks, Q, for posting the story!

'tis the season...

...the busy season, that is! It's a good thing I'm not baking or traveling this year or I might forget the fact that we celebrate holidays this month!

We've made it through a preschool holiday concert and a Christmas piano recital, along with various December birthday parties for young friends. Just one more Christmas concert this week, Taekwondo testing and a few more holiday parties! Somewhere in there I really will send out Christmas cards. Really. I will.

Hubbie has been traveling the past two weekends and the upcoming weekend is no exception...but he will return before our wedding anniversary on Sunday!

We are very blessed. We have many reasons to celebrate and wonderful friends to share our food, fun and holidays with. We will attend Mass together as a family and thank the Lord for all of our blessings. I will say thank you, I will behave and when we get home I will leave my list out for Santa.

All I want for Christmas is a nice, long nap!

Greetings from the world beyond

I have returned, briefly, from the world outside of the world wide web!

I cannot blame my absence entirely on the hustle and bustle of the season, though that might be part of it. I regret to admit I've had nothing inspiring to share. I've visited other blogs here and there this week but I'm sorry to say I had nothing to add.

At least the mental stagnation has not been complete! I HAVE gotten some writing done! I'm very excited and will have to keep this short to MAKE myself get back to the WIP. Almost every year, somewhere in our family Christmas letter, I tell my friends and family that I'm still at work on "the novel." While it would indeed be a Christmas miracle to be able to tell everyone this year that I have a completed draft, I'd like to see how close I can get before the end of 2005!

One quick update--our son had his very first Christmas concert last night with his preschool class. For my family members who have seen the video of our daughter's first preschool concert (she was a pale, frightened, shy child who finally managed to whisper a few lyrics at the very end), I can tell you that her little brother's first performance was quite the opposite! He had a blast!

It's cold and snowing here today. Though the kids are in school, they're thrilled and are asking for playdates after school as they're sure to have enough snow for snowballs today!

I hope you can pause for a moment on to remember this somber occasion in American history but also go on to have a great day!

Let us drink wine!

Let the monks have their beer.

They're celibate and they live with their co-workers--at least let them keep some beer!

http://www.sacbee.com/content/lifestyle/24hour_food/story/2919994p-11586083c.html

I know we live in Kansas, but...

...what if these do not actually take you to Oz?

The tornado sirens were enough to scare my children into the basement immediately. We had all been playing Monopoly near a window. They were quite concerned that the parents were not in as much of a hurry.

The hubbie even went TO the window to check the weather.

The kids were getting desperate so while I calmly explained that we'd be fine, I did go downstairs with them. The hubbie made sure we had shoes and coats downstairs "just in case" then came back up to watch the weather on the news and through the window.

While I understand the fascination, as I explained just before the sirens stopped, if a twister does pay us a visit, he may not have time to get downstairs. So we'll just wait and see if clicking his heels will bring him back from wherever he may end up.

As for the rest of us, we'll keep our sneakers on in the basement. After all, what would we do if we received a pair of ruby slippers that did not fit?

I've lived outside the Emerald City and while I'm sure I could continue bloghopping from there, I'll take a slower route if and when we go back, thanks.

Some weather we're having!

It was a nice fall weekend. I mean summer weekend, no winter...well, at least I'm sure the weekend is over!

After telling my in-laws to expect cooler weather for Thanksgiving, there were days that we did not even need jackets. Then, yesterday, the western part of the state had blizzards while our part had "summer" weather (thunderstorms and tornadoes).

Ft. Riley (where hubbie works) did get hit but the twister did not make it this way.

Today we have a light dusting of snow on the grass and more snow is expected this afternoon. My daughter can't wait for school to be over today! She's anticipating fantastic snowballs.

In the meantime, I am trying to recover from yet another cold. (With all of the weather changes, I'm baffled as to why I keep getting sick!) ; (

Tomorrow should be sunny and warmer.

Happy Thanksgiving!
I have been very blessed and have much to be thankful for. I hope you all can find many things to be grateful for as well!
(THANK YOU for visiting and have a very happy and safe Thanksgiving!)

The Wisdom of Dory

Marlin : I promised I'd never let anything happen to him.
Dory : Hmm. That's a funny thing to promise.
Marlin : What?
Dory : Well you can't never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him. Not much fun for little Harpo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My daughter returns home from a playdate at one of her best friend's homes. She tells me about the day and is quite excited that she, her friend and friend's younger sister were allowed to walk to the park by themselves!

She is proud. She is happy.

That is, until she has to help me gather my eyeballs, which have popped from my skull and are rolling on the hard wood floor. I do not say anything against the best friend's parents but my daughter senses I am not quite as proud as she was just a moment ago. I tell her that I was just surprised, as that mother can't see the park from her window.

Weeks have passed and I've had time to relax. Everyone got to the little park and back just fine. My daughter and this friend are inseparable most of the time; the only variation is when my daughter sticks to the friend's little sister instead. Mostly, when they all get together, they are The Three Female Musketeers! They get into trouble together at times but they stick together.

I know it was not wrong to let the girls venture forth on their own. My worry is always that "the stranger" will say the one thing we have not discussed and my girl will get in his car. Yet those crafty strangers are usually singling out solitary children, not a band of three. If someone tried to con that group, as long as one of them was smart enough not to go, the other two would stick with her.

I've talked with the friend's father--though we came to this subject in a roundabout way--he mentioned that while he "probably ought to be concerned about kidnappings," he is "much more concerned about traffic." He's right. The odds are much better that a distracted driver will get to her before a predator.

When the girls are over here, I still don't let them leave our street without me. (As worried as I get about losing my own children, I don't want to run the risk of losing someone else's)! I considered not letting her go over to that friend's home anymore and just letting them play here.

My daughter is smart though and perhaps I should trust her a bit more. (The next time she went to that friend's house, she diplomatically told her friend she just did not want to go to the park that day and asked to play in her backyard). The last time she went, the girls did go to the park (with one more friend, so there was a pack of four). She quickly told me that the friend's mother let them walk but she got in the car and met them there.

In any case, everyone is home safe and sound. So I'll try to remember to just keep swimming...

An adventure is an adventure, even if it is in your own backyard

When I was seven years old, I lived on the edge of a forest. It was enormous and daunting and I was sure there were bugs, snakes and more dangerous creatures, so I never entered the forest.

By the time I was eight years old, half of the forest had become a housing subdivision. I had a friend who lived in one of the new houses. (Now, my parents had strongly opposed the new subdivision, citing heavier traffic on our quiet road, so I was quite certain that my friend’s parents were partly evil. Luckily, they were never home during the day so I’d go home with her after school with no worries of running into them.)

The other half of the area was still undeveloped or becoming developed. My friend and I would stray from her house in the afternoons to the area that was still “the woods” and find all sorts of treasures left behind by the contractors.

Those were glorious days! We could imagine we were Indians or pilgrims or even the Ingalls family. We built forts, with spare boards, roofing shingles and rusty nails. There were no adults, no siblings and no snakes (that I saw). My biggest fear at the time (because it was my friend’s biggest fear) was poison ivy. If it rained or got cold, we could go to her house. It was empty and quiet. How I envied her!
I don’t know how my mother continued to let me play with her. I came home to my mother every time asking if she could please get a job so I could have my own key and come home alone too! (Of course, I had three younger siblings waiting at home too so there were a few flaws in my simple plan).

I wonder sometimes what adventures my kids will have to tell about their childhood as much more of their childhood play is supervised.
When I was eight, no stranger ever penetrated our forest sanctuary; we never played with matches at my friends house; despite the rusty nails, I did not need a new tetanus shot and I did not actually come into contact with poison ivy. We were just being kids and we survived.

I am now thirty-five and I have two children. I do not let my daughter (7 yrs) go anywhere alone or with another child, not to mention someplace where there might be snakes or rusty nails! While we live on a fairly quiet cul-de-sac, it’s adjacent to a busy street. So she is allowed to go outdoors alone but she can’t leave our street. (I try to give her some illusion of autonomy but only if I can still see her from one of the windows of my house!)

Am I depriving my children of adventures?

Maybe not. As I started this post the other day, the children came running in from the backyard where they had been planting acorns. (They go and look each morning for signs of a tree. Despite my comments about waiting for spring, they’re quite optimistic).
They came running in to tell me that they had spotted a “giant, poisonous worm!”

By the time they pulled me outdoors to look at it, the monster had disappeared. While I doubt that there are any poisonous worms in Kansas, I was good enough to be quiet and look frightened. Maybe they can find just a little danger and adventure in their sheltered lives after all.

(I can clearly see both of my children involved in this adventure!)