Modern Mom Musings

NoVA Endangered Species Club

2011-08-23T00:52:00.006-04:00

I am thrilled to present the blog pages of our eldest child. He & his younger sister have a deep concern about animal welfare, and he has particularly taken an interest in the idea that some animal species might be wiped out of existence if not cared for by the earth's caretakers--we humans! The blog features activities of his local, self-originated Endangered Species Club.

For my husband and me this is a foundational proof that homeschooling is working for our son. He has an entrepreneurial spirit, and his leadership skills come forward well in this environment. He does not bully; he manages. This is a smart working space for character development in him.

Next up is a large project which requires many elements of coordination--a fundraising lemonade stand.

The rest of the details are on the blog.

Proud of him!

Charlotte Mason summed it up pretty well!

2011-03-25T22:51:00.004-04:00

Charlotte Mason's Student Motto

Charlotte Mason created a motto for her students that is inspiring and thought provoking. We have written the words on our kitchen white board and have decided to make it our new mission statement for our family. We hope you enjoy the student motto as much as we have.

  I am a child of God, a gift to my parents and my country. I am a person of great value because God made me.  

I ought to do my duty to obey God, to submit to my parents, to be of service to others, and to keep myself healthy with proper food and rest so my body is ready to serve.

  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. God has made me able to do everything required of me.  

I will resolve to keep a watch over my thoughts and choose what's right, even if it's not what I want.  

Charlotte Mason taught her students the motto I am, I ought, I can, I will. I am means that we can know ourselves and understand what we're really like. I ought means that we have a moral judge inside us that we feel we're subject to. It lets us know what our duty is and compels us to action. I can means that we have the ability to do what we feel is right. I will means that we resolve to do what our inner moral judge has urged us to do. These four thoughts make a perfect, beautiful chain.

I am sorry, cannot tell you where I got the wording for this. I found it in my digital notebook. No intent to break (c) rules whatsoever. I will credit it if/as soon as I find its source.

I gander he was a Michiganian

2011-03-25T16:09:00.006-04:00

I am throwing away copious amounts of paperwork in my attempt to streamline the townhouse where we will most certainly continue to live for at least another year. It's 1000 square feet or so for 5 of us, and the children are growing! So, since leaving isn't yet an option, we have to make some more room for those long leggy kiddos--it means throwing away my piles...organizing the details...changing my ways!

In going through one pile I came across this fantastic little poem from the turn of the century:

There was a man in Michigan
A citizen of Lansing
Who used to pass his time, alas!
In frolicking and dancing.
As one could see, no goose was he
But still it was no slander
When folks would say, in spiteful way
He was a Michigander

SOURCE:
Bloom's Baby Ballads Verse by James O'Dea (pictures by Harry Kennedy; hand-lettered by Chas. Costello)
Entertainment for Young & Old Replete with Seven Colors
A 34-page Picture Book of Humorous Jingles
Sol. Bloom, Publisher
54 Dearborn St., Chicago

Var Lachland Christian Academy

2011-03-25T12:53:00.002-04:00

Well, we've named our school, and established a slogan, and we're starting lessons on Khan Academy now, so that I can track the kids' progress on the gorgeous Kahn learning tree. Loving it!!

Using parts of our last names we have created the school name Var Lachland. In German the Lachland part means Laughing Land. I'd like to be a laughing land. I invite that JOY to enter our home environment. Can we use the school name & slogan ("Where the correct answer is 'Yes! and Amen!'") to guide our direction? Can we establish some foundational goals for ourselves based on that, plus the idea that "'I can't' never did anything!"--the expression my Grandpa Smith instilled in me? I'd like to try. I think I need some solid guiding principles.

Now, for a scripture verse to support the rest.

Why is any of this necessary? It it just a matter of giving myself a frame around our school life--something that helps guide me, personally, on the days when I feel aimless.

Back soon with our Scripture. I'll pray that one makes itself clear--not just the standard "Train up a child in the way he should go..." I don't think. Something inspired & specific to Who We Are, and What We're Doing...

LEGO Club!

2011-03-25T12:52:00.001-04:00

The kids have been featured on their LEGO club's blog page. So fun!!

Teagan! Featured @ Reston CC

2011-03-25T12:46:00.002-04:00

Teagan is now front-and-center on the Reston CC homepage. Cute girls!!

Hands make Christmas

2010-12-24T01:08:00.005-05:00

It's the eve of Christmas Eve and I cannot sleep. I'm evaluating & reflecting--have we done it right? Have we brought Advent to the heart of our children enough this year? Do they clearly understand who Jesus is, and why there is a celebration in December?

Should there be a celebration in December? The presents . . . given as a representation of love . . . of Jesus? I think it's a smidge confusing, as I try to package it. The magi brought gifts to the Savior baby, so we give gifts in memory of that? How does a Nerf gun, for example, or a Rubik's cube have anything to do with Emmanuel!? God with us!?

One Christmas the last package that arrived at our home was from Tom's grandparents--in it were four antique ornaments. Grandma and Grandpa had gone through their collection from 60 years of marriage and chosen to share the ornaments with all their children and grandchildren. Colorful & fragile, they touched my husband deeply. From those same grandparents, small, handmade crosses on stands for each great grandchild. Tom held the ones for our children and turned them over & over in his hands, saying this was what he was looking for at Christmastime.

So, we always handmake a part of our Christmas, with child-crafted gifts, hand stamped wrapping paper, or some other personalized touch to add humanity to the chaos of ribbons and boxes. As beautiful as it all is lain festively beneath the tree, I ask myself, what is this all about!?

And yet, we cannot seem to help ourselves as we try to share things we love with our children--things that we know will excite them. We anticipate that giddy enjoyment of uncovering the surprises personally chosen for them. They crawl on their hands & knees to read every tag, and make wild guesses at boxes' contents by shaking them, sizing them up, or thinking of the originating giver. What is this about, this massive swapping of gifts!?

It's a tidal wave, and no matter how much we try to erect a barricade, forward it tumbles onto the shores of our living rooms. Every year we sit back and stare at the presents after they are unwrapped and share a sigh of overindulgence not unlike the one released after an overfilling of Thanksgiving turkey and stuffing. But, we are Americans, and this is what an American Christmas is.

It's too late for any of us to change Saturday morning's plans or slow the rushing water from every source, and I'm not trying to sound the Bah-Humbug bell, but I want to take a moment to applaud my dear friends who have seriously and intentionally taken on the Advent Conspiracy. I pledge to explore that more again next year . . . in September or October!

Trying to raise grateful children is not an easy task--Christmas morning can prove to work against those efforts if we are not careful. This year I am most excited to give my children their subscriptions to magazines that matter to them. My son wants to launch an Endangered Species Club of his peers, so I subscribed him to the Sierra Club. Teagan loves animals and wants to either be a farmer, a zookeeper or a veterinarian, so I subscribed her to the National Audubon Society.

Yes, I know, those mags are aimed at adults. We will read them together and they will be stored, not allowed to roam each room where they'll end up under throw rugs or on the back of the toilet for "necessary" reading. What I'm talking about is feeding their passions and helping them find their ways in this life. It's elemental to their education, and to their growth, I think. Hopefully, this feeds the meaning of Christmas a bit--the Jeremiah 29:11 part.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

The other thing I do consistently is purchase ornaments, symbolic of the nativity in some way, from fair trade organizations like Ten Thousand Villages. As they unwrap images of Jesus, Mary, or the nativity, I expect that these things, delicate in their hands, will reinforce the biblical lessons we try to lead all year.

But, I'll always ask myself on the days immediately preceding and following The Big Day: have we laid this out right? Are we bringing them the lessons they need to be honorable citizens of the world, community and family? Are they learning to love & serve our Savior this way?

I will keep questioning, keep reshaping, and keep hoping that all our best efforts with our children will not spoil them like a bad fish that's been left too long on the counter. Please, Lord, may my children only ever live with a pleasing fragrance--may their lives serve as an incense of praise! May Christmas teach them about you!!

Heavenly Father, most of all we are grateful for this season when we can pause and contemplate what you did for us! Having this period on the calendar forces the issue and we are blessed with the reminder that not only did you die on the cross and rise again, but that you started as a flailing and naked baby, born from a woman, wrapped in swaddling clothes. How this is possible is beyond me, but I'll forever thank you!! Merry Christmas, Jesus!

Christmas Spirit

2010-12-23T22:08:00.009-05:00

"Little Drummer Boy" played overhead as I stretched to reach the top shelf of the refrigerated section for a jug of apple cider. Suddenly I found myself keenly aware of the lyrics, and the irony of their play in this place.

Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum

Others bustled about me in layers of warmth, also reaching high and low for this or that, all in the same vein--with lists in hand; all with one same purpose--to accommodate guests. Most seemed fully unaware of the songstress' background voice.

A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum

I couldn't help myself--humming wasn't enough, I had to sing out!

Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum

I confess, I was overcome with this sense that Christ brings more to us than Himself at this time of year. I would venture to guess that many--if not most--of the shoes shuffling past others today don't belong to Believers in Jesus as Savior of their souls, but for a few days every year, despite religious affiliation (or none at all) the world shuffles to prepare a place.

To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum

The very Christmas after the September 11th attacks on our nation I drove solo from Virginia to Kentucky to spend Christmas with my father. We hadn't been together over ham or hymns for years, if ever, and the divide between us was vast. But the state of the nation and the spirit of Christmas blended in such a way that I felt compelled to bridge the abyss. It is still one of the most memorable Christmases of my life.

rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum

I was the Unforgiving Servant when it came to righteous indignation about my dad, and all I judged him to be or not to be. In 2001, however, I stretched to reach the top shelf of the meaning of God's grace and forgiveness, and there I found joy and peace. I recall how Dad and I both found ourselves weeping in the candlelight service at a welcoming Methodist church as "Silent Night" filled the air. We sang until our voices cracked and we couldn't sing any more.

So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum, When we come.

And that, I think, is the "more" that Christmas brings--as a holiday/a season/a day, even. First there was a virgin and a promise. There was an unexpected pregnancy and an unexpected adventure. There was a manger, there were shepherds, there was the star. First there were the astronomers--wise men--magi, and there was a jealous king. There was threat of death, and departure for safety. There was that baby--that confounding and miraculous birth.

Little Baby, pa rum pum pum pum

In that flesh, and in those hands and feet, God made Himself more known to the world than He ever had before. He was no longer distant. He was no longer quite so mysterious--and yet, more so! He was warm, and He loved. He was both firstborn and a second Adam. He was the Promise.

It has been a long year for our family--longer than a year. We have struggled, but we have been buoyed by community, by others' thoughtfulness, and by the creative gifts of our loving God. When we wondered how we might pay a bill, someone stepped in with an unexpected means. When we had desires and hopes, there were those who anticipated our needs. In all of our married life, my husband and I have never seen the Lord in flesh as we have this year. He has been personal, and warm. He has held our hands through the hands of His people, and He has loved.

I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum

Standing there in Trader Joe's today, listening to "Little Drummer Boy," I sang out--and I got misty. Jesus came for each of the people scurrying around the store--even as they scurried. None knelt before him then but shepherds--and the angels who were all present. Here, in the back aisle by the coffee samples, I may have been the only shepherd; but the angels were present, and I felt them. Mothers in America have invited their lost children to the supper table for Christmas Eve and daughters have packed their cars to drive cross-country to heal broken relationships with their fathers for Christmas Day. Sisters, friends, brothers, enemies--everyone tends to be moved in some emotional way by the lights and the chorus. There is expectation (and often disappointment because of that expectation)--there is power in Christmas that somehow moves with or without an acknowledgment of Jesus' part.

I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum

After all, scientists have studied the ancient writings, star maps and legends to pinpoint his birth more likely in April than December, anyway; the Christmas tree was nothing the Apostles ever dreamed of; there were not shopping malls and carols, no sleighs of horses, or Christian saints to discuss in the early church--in fact, there were barely buildings to meet in at all. Christ is, with or without Christmas. And, it seems, Christmas is, with or without Christ. There is a spirit of Christ's joy that permeates the air regardless of a belief in Him. To me, this seems like a very good thing. Decorations glow and shine and dress up otherwise tacky lawns (or make them tackier), and somehow, whether people praise Him or not, He is praised!

That's fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum

Finally, I listened to the crux of the song--this poor boy played his best, and that was his gift for the King. Gold, frankincense or myrrh were not required. His music wasn't wrapped, but it was presented with an attitude of gratitude, and this is how we ought to live every day. In every very action I ought to be giving my best for Christ. In every movement of my body I ought to be praising him! I grumble about my jobs. I resent some of the things he asks me to do. Don't you? But poor or not, play your best! Bring what you do have before the King of Kings. Your gift is seen for all that it is and none of what it is not. On Christmas, as they give their best to others, Christ is served even by those who do not know Him, who deny Him, or worse, work against Him! The Holy Spirit was present at the grocery store today. THAT is Christmas.

Make it a joyful one! Merry Christmas.

Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum,
On my drum?

Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,

Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.

The Last Time I Saw You...

2010-11-21T08:43:00.003-05:00

Teagan was asleep beside me, where she'd fallen, quite exhausted, last night. Daddy chose the couch so she & I could cuddle in the queen size bed. Her hair was all over her face as she began to wake, and I stroked her face. She popped up and said, "Hey! Last time I saw you were..." (something I have now forgotten). It was the way she started her sentence, "Hey!" that caused me to respond.

"Hey! Last time I saw you you had hair in your face!"

Then she said, "Last time I saw you, your eyes were closed."

And I retorted, "Well, the last time I saw you, you were zonked!"

We went on for about 15 minutes coming up with one funnier thing after another. It was a blast! I highly recommend this new game we just made up--it's likely to become part of our morning routine & family culture now. Just start thinking of things you might actually say to someone you haven't seen in a long time.

"Last time I saw you was at our high school reunion!"

"Last time I saw you, you just barely made your plane!"

"Last time I saw you, you were covered in clown makeup."

...you were pregnant!

...you were in labor!

...there was a torrential downpour.

...you were being chased by that bear!!

HA HA! The possibilities are endless! It's great for catching someone off-guard when they appear to need something fun to do--like waiting in line; driving on a long trip somewhere; just waking up . . . The application is also universal.

Well, it's a new one for us. I'm looking forward to being surprised around the corner by my sweet girl's funny answers.

"Hey! Last time I saw you, you were fully naked!"

"Last time I saw you, you had just been born!"

"Last time I saw you, you were bald!"

"Last time I saw you was at your wedding!"

These are some that we exchanged this morning. You could add the element we started to add at the end--the answers have to come quickly, and cannot be repeats. The game ends after you lose three points (points can be lost when the player takes too long to respond, repeats something the other player said, or uses something crass that seems inappropriate).

"Wow! Last time I saw you, you were only 6 years old!"

"Last time I saw you, we were on safari in Africa!"

"The last time I saw you, you were dressed like an orangutan!"

"Oh! The last time I saw you was at the hospital, getting stiches!"

Oh, and one last rule, it's even better if you choose something you're not actually doing at the time. The funnier & more imaginative, the longer the game will last.

"The last time I saw you, you were lifting off in that hot air balloon!"

"The last time I saw you, your boat was sinking!"

"The last time I saw you, you were blogging after midnight..."

Tic Tac Toe...with emphasis

2010-11-15T14:49:00.007-05:00

This afternoon I demonstrated for Teagan some of the string games I learned as a child --"witches broom" (AKA bananas, fishing spear or janitor's keys), cat's cradle, a couple of slip string tricks (like hand catch), and more. She was enthralled, took the old, green, yarn loop from me while I loaded another pile of laundry into the wash, & immediately transferred what she'd learned to string play with her feet! Instead of trying to create the web of Jacob's ladder, she laced the string around her big toes & began pulling it this way & that, creating new shapes & calling out to me, "Look, Mamma! It's a party hat!"

The yarn loop broke under the pressure of one yank after another twist & pull. Teagan asked me, "Can you knot this for me, Mamma?" To which I of course answered, "I can knot!" We giggled because she got the "cannot/can knot" homonym joke.

Then, as she played with her feet & string a bit more, lying on her back on my bed, she again called out to me, "Mamma! Look, I made Tic Tac Toe."

When I looked, sure enough, she'd created a perfect little crisscross between fingers & toes that precisely resembled the board of the famous boredom-busting pen & paper game. Better, yet, Teagan made another joke:

"Yeah. Let's call this Tic Tac TOE!"

*sigh*

That girl! She kills me with her quick wit! Yes, Teagan. That is authentically a Tic Tac TOE board.

(This picture, below, was a reenactment; the crisscross was difficult for her to reproduce.)

"Good Feeling Clothes"

2010-11-08T00:46:00.008-05:00

When I was in high school my friend & fellow art student agreed with me that certain clothing brings on great emotional security--you just feel good when you wear it.

Here are some portraits of my daughter wearing her own idea of "Good Feeling Clothes" over the past couple years. I LOVE her independence in choosing what to wear ever since she was barely old enough to speak in full sentences!

Most of what you see here are hand-me-down items, but Teagan made them all her own by the way she layered & matched the various bits & pieces.

Whatever you do, though, please don't call her beautiful! (She hates that.)

The Eyes Have It!

2010-11-06T01:39:00.004-04:00

The kids, their dad & I had the recent opportunity to dissect a cow's eye. The entire experience was fascinating, and had us all staring deeply into each other's eyes for a much closer look than we'd taken before. In gratitude spirit, I thought I'd post the beautiful ones I could barely take my eyes off--they owe their color to their maternal grandmothers, and their parents:

Genius!

2010-11-06T00:31:00.004-04:00

Our friends who visited for the weekend were well on their way across state borders for their return drive home. Teagan was in the kitchen with me as I cleaned up the dried pancake batter from that morning's breakfast. We were sharing with each other some of our memories from the weekend, when she noticed what I was doing--soaking paper towels, wringing them just so they didn't drip, then laying them all over the stovetop.

Tea: "What are you doing?"
Me:"I'm putting these wet paper towels on the mess--the water softens the food stains so I can clean more easily. Your dad taught me that technique."

We continued tidying up around the kitchen as I started on a snack for her. Enough time had passed for me to believe the paper towel trick had worked, so I swiped up the now-soft batter swiftly & efficiently.

Me: "See, Tea? Isn't your dad genius?"

Teagan replied in her usual way, without skipping one beat:

"Did someone teach him that?"
Me: "Well, sure! Probably his mom..."
Tea: "Then he's not a genius. If he knew it all on his own he'd be a genius. But, if someone taught it to him, he's not a genius."

May I remind the reader that my daughter has not yet turned five?

I did not teach her the definition of the word genius, by the way. So, by not being taught...couldn't we say she is!?

Searching for the word...

2010-07-05T23:34:00.005-04:00

...been gone so long...

...wondering the good of the blog...

...fighting myself. fighting the addictive personality rooted in my family tree...

...but now I find this glorious site--thanks to a fellow homeschooler's facebook post.

Yes, I can join the Gratitude Community. How sorely I need to practice gratitude!

Gratitude

Thanksgiving

Gratefulness... none of these words capture what I'm trying to say...what my welling tears communicate.

Breath.

Rising.

I am praising my sweet Lord for 1000 things...and it might take me some time to recapture that attitude of gratitude...only because I've been in a fog...self has become central. I've believed the lie of boredom. I've allowed restlessness to move me past the real, here & now.

So, now I'll begin by bringing to mind one thing. One thing for which I am immensely thankful--

Today: my children's lips, which I love to watch, when they speak. Even as they backtalk, their lips are beautiful. Soft. Untouched by passion. My children are finding their ways--sometimes through raging tantrums, sometimes through whining--but more often in laughter which I undervalue, or in questions which I ignore, or in fair demands of my attention.

Tomorrow: I will not only look, but listen.

Playground or Ice Cream?

2010-03-19T20:49:00.004-04:00

After what proved to be a luscious dinner in downtown Berryville, the thought came to mind to grab an ice cream at the place two storefronts down. We'd all talked about it before our meal, but Logan said he wanted to go to the tall, fabulous playground down the road where we'd built some memories a year before. Because the sun was close to setting I said we would not have time for both--if we stopped to get an ice cream it would be too late to go to the playground; if we went to the playground first, the ice cream store would be closed by dusk.

Logan took a tally--Teagan wanted ice cream, Logan wanted playground, their grandma & I were neutral. He managed, in his slickest, convincing way, to bring Teagan around to his side by telling her we could get ice cream any time.

So, we went to the fabulous, tall playground, with tunnel slides 25' in the air, a sand pit, lots of running bridges and unending fun. I stayed in the car with Baby Stephen, (now 4 months old!), while they played wildly with their beloved grandma. It was a joy to watch them shining with laughter--but then Logan knocked his head & came running to me.

He'd really just brushed his ear hard against some equipment, but it hurt enough to prefer Momma's sympathy, so I was looking him over & kissing him when his sister & grandma came to investigate. Teagan asked right away, "Is he OK?" and then, when assured that he was, chirped, "So, can we go get ice cream now?"

The four of us laughed so hard that I had tears in my eyes! No, Logan said, he felt well enough to go back to playing. So they did...for almost 2 hours!

Oh, gorgeous day! I think I owe Teagan an ice cream date!

Black & White

2010-03-19T17:55:00.004-04:00

We pulled out of the Berryville playground at dusk, before any officials came to chase us away. Teagan called out her good idea: "Let's play 'I Spy!'"

My mom stated that it was a little dark to be able to see much for I Spy, and since the car was moving, it would certainly be a challenge. Quick-witted Teagan replied, "We can just say things that are black or white!" What a smart gal.

She went first.

"I spy something black."

I guessed the shadowed trees. I was wrong. Mom guessed a truck that was approaching. That was also not the right answer. Logan picked out something, too, but none of us knew what Teagan was spying. She laughed and asked, "Mom? Do you have any more guesses?" No, I did not--nor did my mom or Logan--we all gave up.

With great satisfaction she blurted out, "The road!"

Oh my, how I laughed & laughed! The road!! A perfect thing to spy at night in low visibility, regardless of how fast the car is moving! SmartTea!

Then it was Logan's turn. He spied something silver. I guessed my car (which is really more of a grey than silver), but was wrong. We all gave it a try, but none of us was thinking big enough, still! Logan revealed the answer--"The stars!" These two are good I Spiers!

Teagan's turn again. She saw something yellow. Tell me why I wasn't thinking about things that stay put even while I move my car at 60 MPH!? I guessed the yellow lights of the car in my rearview mirror & my mom guessed the flashing caution light up ahead. What was Teagan spying?

The moon.

Smart kids. Fun game. What a lovely day!

Tending The Garden of Your Marriage

2010-03-19T09:55:00.000-04:00

I've been published again. This is part one of a series.

Talk About Marginal Living!

2010-02-02T18:43:00.002-05:00

"Some 2 million children are now taught at home, or about 4% of the total school-age population, according to HSLDA."

Check out this article about the German couple who has been granted asylum in The States to be able to educate their children at home!

Family Rooster

2010-01-30T08:45:00.002-05:00

It is 8:45 AM. Teagan just sat up in her bed & called out (twice), "Cockadoodle dooooooo!"

She was a bird from the beginning, with soft sweet coos that reminded all of us of a mourning dove. Born in the year of the rooster ('05), she has found her calling (ahem) as our family alarm clock.

How I love my unique & independent daughter! Her humor, her timing, and her joy in the morning!

Fringe Living

2010-01-17T22:28:00.006-05:00

Our children are non-vaccinated, uncircumcised, home or midwife-birthed, homeschooled, infant-potty-trained kids who eat organic meat & free range eggs, recycle, and do not watch TV.

We're living on the margins, I guess.

This is a beautiful place for me to be--these are things I've chosen intentionally. This is why I work more than anything at building & maintaining relationships with like-minded women. There are very few, really, who might cross into more than one or two spheres of our venn diagram. That is why it can get lonely out here on the edge, and why I reach out beyond my real life geography to this online world.

Just a thought...

He's Here!

2009-11-20T20:09:00.006-05:00

Announcing the birth of:

Stephen Lawrence
born Tuesday, November 17th @ 9:45 PM
at home in Reston, VA
9#, 21.5"
long & skinny fingers & feet/toes, and BLOND!!

Thank you to SO many of you who supported our homebirthing adventure throughout! Wow--we are so pleased with our decision.

Because I was "in labor" for about 3+ weeks*, the end result was VERY fast!

I started regular contractions (again) @ ~ 6PM on Tuesday night, hopped into a cozy tub from 6:30-9 PM, while Logan had the exclusive privilege of watching "The Return of the Jedi" during a special Daddy/Son date, since Teagan was out with her Namma. As soon as I stepped out of the tub, everything moved fast, meaning my informing our midwife, Tammi , was too late! My dear friend, Devon, a doula, who lives 2 miles from our house, arrived about 10 minutes before Stephen was in our arms--she "caught" him while my 6 1/2-year-old son took photos & Tom brought me ice water. My daughter was out for an overnight with my mom, and though they got up & came as quickly as they could (Teagan dressed in her jammies & pink floral robe, Mom having changed first), they just missed the birth, arriving about 6 minutes after Midwife, Tammi & her birth assistant, Liz, who arrived about 6 minutes after Stephen! Our house was a flurry of activity under dim lights until about 1 AM. Miss Teagan got to cut the cord!

Stephen's first three days at home have been relaxing, as a wonderful bonding time for our family--the children are vying for their chance to hold & touch him at every turn and Namma has been a tremendous help--we are so grateful for her lengthy stay & will hold on tightly for the remaining time we have with her--she will head to Michigan for Thanksgiving with the Gould/Smith/Varga families in Midland, Michigan on Monday.

Stephen is sleeping & nursing well, and is alert like his big sibs were--looking around from one of our faces to the next, and trying to take in his new world.

We gave him the middle name, "Lawrence," in honor of both my late grandfather, my mom, Lauri, and my dear Uncle Larry. His first name is after the first Christian martyr, Saint Stephen, spelled with the "ph."

* (dilated @ 4 cm by 10/26, 5 cm the next week, 7 cm on Saturday...regular waves of contractions came for 3 hours at a time every few days for weeks!)

Sweet Matrimony (or not)...

2009-11-10T09:27:00.004-05:00

Logan stated, last night (again),

Mom, when I grow up, I want to marry Teagan.

I'm sorry, Lo. You cannot. We are supposed to marry into other people's families, Sweetie

But, let me just ask you one thing. Is it illegal?!?!?!

Yes, It is.

He demonstrated a small tirade of righteous injustice--grrrr'ing & gripping his teeth/fists, then responded,

But, Teagan is so sweet!

Isn't that lovely? Despite our occasional struggles as a family, there is an awful lot of love & appreciation going on around here. I am a happy momma this morning. I encouraged Logan to closely monitor the boys who court his sister...she shouldn't marry any man who hadn't passed by Big Brother's approval.

Ha ha! I have a funny feeling no one will ever measure up to his scrutiny. Heaven help the boys who try.

Pregnancy Affirmation

2009-11-08T03:37:00.003-05:00

I don't remember how I got on this email list, but I receive a daily Pregnancy Affirmation in the inbox now. Sometimes the expressions are relatively mundane, and I skim them, but today's matched my need perfectly:

Every pregnancy is different.

Yes--every pregnancy is different from one woman to another, and from one baby to another. My labor & deliveries of Logan & Teagan were unique, and Stephen is proving to have his own ideas, too. My mom & I were discussing, today, how much Stephen is in control right now. Well, I know God is ultimately the one in control, but He is working with my son on the date & time of this birth...and I am just a vessel. I have no real say in the matter! I can eat well, take my supplements, drink water & be my healthiest, but I cannot push if pushing isn't appropriate. I cannot hold him in, if I'm not "ready." Stephen will enter this world when he & his angels deem it's time!

This is one of the greatest challenges of pregnancy--to release that need to control all activities in my world. An infant will unravel you with sleepless feedings...jaundice...reflux...colic... There is so very little in my control in the months ahead. While I set a routine in place, and while I retain CALM in my spirit to learn Stephen's needs in balance with our family agenda, I will need to release so much control. Thematic in my Type-A lifestyle!

These are the lessons of the past few days. While we were still in the month of October (12 days ago) I was dilated to 4 cm already, my cervix was at 50% effaced, & Stephen was in a 0-station position in the birth canal. This past Wednesday (4 days ago, 11/4), all of that had progressed to 5 cm, 70%, +1. Since then, I have lost the mucus plug & had "bloody show," plenty of contractions, but no broken bag of waters, and no baby in my arms.

Mom breezed up here as soon as she could (arriving Wednesday night), and like with Teagan's prenatal period, we hurried up so we could wait. The goodness of that right now is that Mom is caring for my older two, who LOVE her time and attention, and I am getting all this freedom to wonder what to do with myself! I have cleaned. I have cooked & baked. I have soaked in a tub. I have taken naps. I've paced, wondering how to sit still and just rest! But, I have had four delicious days of "doing" very little. I've read a few more chapters in a book.

Ahhhhh....Stephen, my sweet, take your time. I'm not rushing you. You are healthy, and you may enter the world whenever you want to--your sister's ready to catch you!

Looks like we made it...

2009-10-30T02:32:00.003-04:00

...to 37 weeks, that is! ;-)

Now, to hold out for "Namma's" arrival. Just hold tight, Stephen!!

Ah-ha!

2009-10-19T04:46:00.002-04:00

Now, THIS is why I'm still up at 4:47 AM! Stephen has decided to moon walk across my upper abdomen. What a wonderful gift! While I've been enjoying plenty of movement from him over the past two months, these are the moves I've been waiting for--the obvious sense of a particular limb or extremity! He's always awake at 4 AM (thus, so am I), but his movements are more subtle. Tonight? A full-on "hello" from my son.

Wow.

Thank you!

The little things...

2009-10-19T03:41:00.009-04:00

I asked Tom to take care of a nasty-looking moth this evening, which found our ceiling fan lights an utter fascination. Smoosh it! (He vacced it up into the Dust Buster--smart solution, as I was later able to release it outside with the kids!).

Then I glanced over at our jars of "kept" caterpillars, wondering if I might have just incited the murder of one of our very own "pets"--but all were still contentedly behind glass, kept under lids.

In the meantime, Teagan & I stuck 6 dead yellow jackets in a remnant Ziploc bag after church today to bring home to show Logan. We found a mound of mulch under a tall, old, oak tree to be teeming with dying yellow jackets! We walked around that tree at least six times pointing out to each other one fading insect after another. They writhed from the tree trunk bark down to the roots, stepping slowly across the ground & falling legs up into little water puddles. There were at least 30--most in some state of departing life. Only six could be scooped up as already lifeless--the rest just sadly struggled. The cold is getting to them.

This is part of our homeschooling! These are animalia arthropoda insecta and it is fall! We aim at a Charlotte Mason schooling approach, with plenty of outdoor experiences leading our connectedness to the world around us (though I truthfully have a lot more to read to claim this officially...). Yep, we collect bugs; practically every day! Our Natural Science Lab is the largest classroom space we can find--wherever/whenever teachable moments arise, we stop and learn together.

And, now, leaves & acorns are piling up all over the house--so many undone projects right now! We tracked down native area leaves based on a piece in The Washington Post, but will have to do a re-collect this week, as our first set are already browning, and I'd like to iron these collections into wax paper for a lapbook. The area is really starting to burst with color, but the deep reds are not popping quite yet.

These are the little "things" that build a rich education. Horrah to homeschooling!

Forget THAT!

2009-10-19T02:10:00.007-04:00

Yeah, um, nevermind that gluten-free thing. It's too much to take on with 3-5 weeks till Baby is born, and the other 30+ foods we try to NOT eat. My dear husband lost a few pounds (that was fast!), and agrees we can try to eat FEWER bready foods (though he insisted on his famous bratwurst wraps tonight, and we had blueberry scones with breakfast), but he complained of starving (bless his heart) only a few days into the New Family Food Plan. It was humorous to me (clearly I wasn't starving him...), but I was finding the process of planning more restricted meals & recipes to be more labor than I need to think about right now.

Speaking of labor, I made the possibly poor decision to watch a number of homebirths on YouTube last week, with my children sitting one on each knee. Sharing with my kids isn't what I regret (I'm glad they clearly understand what to expect); what I think undid me a bit was the recall of that Ring Of Fire that comes at the near-end. Oh, you know, somewhere between crowning & shoulders! Oh...Man! Women are right when they say you "forget" the pain.

Because Logan's birth was relatively quick (3+ hours in total from first morning contractions on a Thursday as I woke to dress for work to his placement on my body which followed an hour water labor), and Teagan's was an Olympic sprint to the finish (she emerged within minutes of my being rolled into her birthing room), I have anticipated this coming birth as a piece of cake to be savored by all involved parties. Baby pushes, I push, a few tight-eyed grunts and out pops our son. Teagan's urgent birth was terrorizing to me--moving so fast as to steal all control from The Momma. Logan's was nearly-perfect, tainted mostly by his "blueness" and immediate removal from my side. This one...well, he's a whole different person, isn't he?

As an individual, he seems to have a different idea, already, about his entry into the world. I've been having such strong Braxton Hicks contractions for so many weeks as to be very on edge about the timing of this birth. Sure, sure, the little baby counter above says I have 32 more days...WHAT!?!?!? Thirty two more days!? How did that come upon us so quickly!?!? Oh, as I was saying, the little baby counter above says I have 32 more days, but I've already been contracting for about that many, and I just feel a sense of "readiness" all the time...that is a slightly disturbing mental state to retain long-term.

I am NOT necessarily ready, as I have these lists of items to purchase, organize, stow aside, etc. to provide for my midwife, myself & Baby Stephen. Birth may not need to be treated as an emergency, or as an illness, but it ought not, either, be treated as a non event. I know that my other children's needs/schedules have both helped to positively distract me from an already-passed eight months of pregnancy (again, what!? Really? Eight months have passed!?!?), but also may have prevented me from fully owning this moment. I have told friends recently that I feel in some suspended state of denial--we planned for, dreamed for, hoped for and prayed for this little life to come into being, as we looked at our family like one missing a member, and now he's almost here!

Who will this little man be? Whom will he resemble? What is his temperament? Who will he grow to become?

My elder son stated this evening that he's excited Baby Stephen will be here soon because it means Namma & Dampa are coming. Funny. He doesn't particularly care to meet his little brother as much as to see his distant grandparents. That's my boy! He has been stressed about Stephen coming, as we've observed from many behavioral issues we've been managing (or trying to manage) for a couple months...but I am anticipating that the physical meeting of these two boys will bring about a bonding that will last a lifetime, regardless of Logan's current concerns.

When your child has Sensory Integration Dysfunction (AKA Sensory Processing Disorder), there are many issues that "concern" him, and bring about anxiety. In Logan's case, he is hyper aware of scents which others barely acknowledge--especially those related to, say, diapers! Unpleasant bathroom smells which most of us sort of expect and manage to work around can send my son to a gagging response that almost causes him to vomit.

In a similar way he has ears like a bat. My parents nicknamed me Radar as a child because I have this same frighteningly aware sense of hearing. A buzzing kitchen light distracts me so much when I'm cooking that I'd rather work in a poorly lit room. I can detect dripping faucets from several rooms away, and an analog clock cannot coexist in my bedroom as the ticking second hand is as bad as water torture to me. Sometimes when I rest my head on my pillow the sound of my own heartbeat, or of my eyelashes blinking (no I'm not kidding) will keep me awake, tossing & turning for ages--hence my eternal issue with insomnia. My husband doesn't like music on when we sleep (that keeps him awake), so I have occasionally fallen asleep playing music through earbuds off of my iPhone. So, Logan has those kinds of ears. In kiddie music concerts at the library this summer I watched him cower at sounds that most of the kids in the room were celebrating. We have to be careful not to sit too close to speakers, or he'll cover his ears & tuck in his head in what seems like pain.

Give that child the thought that a crying baby is going to enter his world.

So, stinkie diapers and screaming lungs enter 1000 square feet with a SI kid. Yep, I can see where Logan's fears originate.

Add to that the fact that Daddy has been unemployed since Monday, August 31st, and our overly-aware emotional boy also kicks into gear. What does a family do without income? Will we ever buy a minivan to give us all elbow room? Will that hoped-for single-family house come to us sooner, or now, even later? How will he sleep at night? How will his outdoor playtime be hampered? What in our world is about to be upended?

So, 32 days...or less. Deep, deep breathing for Momma, frantic continued job search for Daddy, belly-kisses & whispered "I love you's" from Big Sister Teagan to The Swelling Belly, and a lot of anxiety from Eldest Child.

Lord, reign over it all!!

Over all the earth
You reign on high
Every mountain stream
Every sunset sky
But my one request
Lord my only aim
Is that You’d reign in me again

Lord reign in me
Reign in Your power
Over all my dreams
In my darkest hour
You are the Lord
Of all I am
So won’t You reign in me again

Over every thought
Over every word
May my life reflect
The beauty of my Lord
‘Cause you mean more to me
Than any earthly thing
So won’t You reign in me again

"Lord Reign In Me"
(Brenton Brown)
Copyright © 1998 Vineyard Songs (UK/Eire). All rights reserved. International copyright secured.

"GF"

2009-10-06T12:39:00.006-04:00

We've had some richly disturbing behavioral issues here--so I decided to go the "drastic" route of choosing gluten-free living for the kids and me. After one week I must say I am FAR more even! I have had to deal with discipline issues like always, and the only day I really lost myself coincided with a sneak snack of 2 mini Twix bars (which we purchased for the Halloween crowd early because I had double dollar coupons). That was yesterday, and I felt myself edgy just before I exploded...so, sugar PLUS gluten...yeah, not a good choice. Tom's already feeling withdrawal from bread--he was complaining to me this morning that he didn't know how he'd make it gluten free! That seems like a good indication that he needs to go gluten free. Anyway, where did I get this idea? We have several friends whose children have autism or Celiac, and live without the glutenous grains, testifying to the observable differences in their homes. Our son has his own set of circumstances which are "special" and the two of us butt heads regularly in our common areas of weakness, and I feel like we need every advantage on our side. So, we've completed one week of a more restricted living. *sigh*

By removing gluten, I am certainly making meal planning that much more difficult. Still, it's a challenge we can overcome, right?!

Restrictions For Teagan (21 + relatives):

CITRUS: tangerines, oranges, grapefruit, lemon, lime
FRUITS: grape +2, plum +2, cherry, strawberry
HERBS/SPICES: cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger, oregano, sage, tea
NUTS:cocoa, chocolate, soy, brazil nuts
ROOT VEGETABLE: beet

My Restrictions (12 + relatives):

PROTEIN/BEANS: kidney, pinto (+3!), chicken, eggs
FRUITS: coconut, cranberry, tomato
DAIRY: cow's milk (& all related products)
GRAINS: quinoa!, wheat
OTHER: baker's & brewer's yeast

I am so grateful for this link I received from another local homeschooler--365 gluten-free slow-cooker recipes!!! A Year of Slowcooking.

Deep Breathing

2009-09-25T20:22:00.006-04:00

Baby Stephen will be here in 56 days or less, according to my counter up top. I am 32 weeks pregnant today. Wow. This is overwhelming me, because my nesting instinct is very strong, and I know that this "nest" ain't ready! We have freecycled dozens of items to simplify our lives, and yet it feels like we've made almost no dent in the massively overwhelming possessions that overtake these 1,000 square feet of our home. I have to think bigger--I have to dump boxes of things, not one little item at a time. Sure, I feel freed by the packages I leave on the door with strangers' names on them, knowing our "things" aren't going into the dumpster or a landfill, but being repurposed by someone else! But, we just haven't moved enough OUT!

I want to feel comfort & peace when I enter the door--I want to feel less oppression of things! A dear friend of mine just downsized by more than half--they moved from a single-family house with a large lawn, playset, sunroom & sandbox, into a townhouse community where the lawn is done, a pool is available, and they share walls with neighbors. This move has proven to be a wise one for their family, and she seems so content in it! We are already there--living in small space for three years, knowing our neighbors intimately, and asking God constantly to help us remain content where he's planted us. I do feel contentment about living debt-free, that's for sure! But, despite our pared down existence, there is still too much stuff! We are bibliophiles, and half of our house resembles a library--so can I pass these books on? Well, it seems that at least once a week we reach over the futon to pull one of those tomes off the shelf to share with someone else--so, I love having access to books that have meaning to us, and have shaped our thinking, values & philosophies! That's a hard one.

Anyway, all this to say, I don't feel ready, yet, to be the mother of THREE children. I know there is more I can do to simplify all aspects of my life--spiritually I am delighted Tom & I have found a new weekly small group; mentally I am psyched that I have 6-8 new free hours each week while my children are in AWANA, gymnastics, Scouts, Sunday School and Movement & Motion with other leaders...I am not "needed" there and so I am having some nice "get ready" moments then; physically, I am going to take some of those new hours for massage, acupuncture & chiropractic care, as Stephen is riding low and pinching lots of parts of me. Sooooooo, I think the weeks ahead are looking up, and I think we're going to BE ready before he comes.

Or, at least, I'm HOPING so!!

Not-Yet-Four

2009-09-11T19:24:00.006-04:00

Teagan washed her hands in the Starbucks' ladies' room, then reached up for the papertowels, which were far out of her reach:

"They don't like kids!" she exclaimed!

I pulled a couple towels down for her, agreeing!

****************

Logan & Teagan were looking all over the house last night for Logan's favorite buddy (stuffed animal, "Seal," which is actually a stuffed manatee). I reminded Logan that if Seal is so important, then Logan needs to be responsible for knowing where he is at all times! "Seal...seal!" the two of them called out over & over, as if the inanimate, grey, well-loved creature might suddenly reply, "Here I am!" Teagan wanted her parents' help and called down to Tom and me, "This is NO JOKE!"

Tom & I thought that to be so funny we couldn't contain ourselves!

***************

Teagan was having sweet moment with her dad, just talking about random whatnots, when she suddenly said, in all seriousness, "As I go through this life, I am going to need someone to drive me around."

As I go through this life!?!? Where does she come up with this stuff? We are certain Teagan will grow up to be a stand-up comedienne. She is hysterical!!!

More Caterpillars!!

2009-09-11T18:30:00.020-04:00

I didn't previously record the little fuzzy white caterpillar we found in June--

Apparently, it is a Fall Webworm: (this one? Hyphantria cunea (Arctiidae)? We kept him till he closed himself in a little netted wrap, but the rain got in his jar and drowned him...now, as much as I love nature, and feeding the birds and all, I cannot say I mourned the loss of a WEBWORM!!

This area is teeming with cool creepers!

Now, here's the record of another slinkie dude we found about 10 days ago. I almost stepped on this black, fuzzy guy, tucked quietly into a corner of our shed (nowhere near tasty green leaves). I used the fantastic site, "What's That Bug?" to get me started down the right identification path, then more online searches to positively ID the little guy. Since I have recently lost the battery of our digi camera, I had to take these pics with my iPhone, and there's no macro lens or focusing power on the iPhone cam, so I apologize for the quality of these photos!

You might not be able to tell from this shot that it has orange stripes around each body segment:

That was a major clue to its identification. Another clue was how it curls up when you to touch it, to protect itself:

This is most certainly a Giant Leopard Moth (AKA the Hypercompe scribonia)! The one I reported about in my last entry was an American Dagger Moth (Species Acronicta americana). So now we have both in jars near the window. The GLM is doing really well, eating fresh leaves and discarding little pebbles to the bottom of the jar (if you know what I mean). The ADM weaved himself a rough bag around his body weeks ago, and hasn't budged.

Here is the ADM's "cocoon," difficult to discern from a dead leaf, and especially difficult to see through the glass jar with my iPhone photo options! Ugh. Anyway, it's still cool to be watching the metamorphosis of two local crawlies!

By the way, another great bug ID site is BugGuide.net, where I was able to identify this tuxedo-wearing sweetheart we found in July while blackberry picking as a Clymene Moth a tiger moth also of the family Arctiidae (like the Giant Leopard Moth & Fall Webworm!):

[more details, for homeschoolers learning classifications]:

ALL FOUR ARE:
Kingdom Animalia (Animals)
Phylum Arthropoda (Arthropods)
Class Insecta (Insects)
Order Lepidoptera (Butterflies and Moths)
No Taxon (Moths)
Superfamily Noctuoidea

Then, the distinctions come @:
Family Arctiidae (Tiger Moths)
Subfamily Arctiinae (Tiger Moths)
Tribe Arctiini
Genus Hyphantria
Species cunea (Fall Webworm Moth - Hodges#8140)

Family Arctiidae (Tiger Moths)
Subfamily Arctiinae (Tiger Moths)
Tribe Arctiini
Genus Hypercompe
Species scribonia (Giant Leopard Moth - Hodges#8146)

Family Arctiidae (Tiger Moths)
Subfamily Arctiinae (Tiger Moths)
Tribe Callimorphini
Genus Haploa
Species clymene (Clymene Moth - Hodges#8107)

Family Noctuidae (Owlet Moths)
Subfamily Acronictinae
Genus Acronicta (Dagger Moths)
Species americana (American Dagger Moth - Hodges#9200)

All Wrapped Up

2009-08-13T18:58:00.003-04:00

Wow! Day One, found the caterpillar; Day Two, it spun itself onto the maple branches into a weird net of brown flecky silk stuff. Cool! Now, is our pickle jar large enough for him to get those wings opened up and show us all of his ugliness?

We'll see. Update to follow.

Transforming Backwards

2009-08-11T14:52:00.006-04:00

Here's something weird in nature. When you typically think of a caterpillar changing into a flying insect, don't you consider unfolding beauty? So, how can this be explained? We found this gorgeous caterpillar on the sidewalk today.

Oh, MAN, is this thing UGLY when it turns into the American Dagger Moth!

Regardless, capturing, researching & investigating this caterpillar was one more beautiful moment in my children's childhood:

More dreams...

2009-08-06T07:22:00.005-04:00

#1
Logan:
I had a dream

About what?

That I found the Monitor & Merrimac.

Oh? Where were they?

Near a harbor.

Tell me more.

Well, I don't remember a lot of it, but Seal was in it.

(Seal is the name of Logan's stuffed manatee, who goes everywhere with him).

#2:
Teagan:
I fell in a pit and I called the rescue people and they said, "I'm coming that way," and then there was only two people and I wonder why, and then I just said, "This doesn't look like rainbow color one," so... but it was and Lambchop was down there with me. They needed to yell down, and said, "Littlest first!" and then everybody said, "What's happening here? What's happening here?" But they just walked past. And then they said, "Do not enter, because I am rescuing people.!" So they all never came back. So I stayed over there and good thing he had two ropes to tie into the holes so no one could come in his way. That's the end! And I went happily home ever again. And then he was trying to grab the paper that say, "Do Not Enter, Everybody!" And then somebody else fell into the pit because they were too tired, and they said, "Is you the littlest first?" "No, I'm big!" "OK. I'm coming down to get you." And there was two, you know why? 'Cause one was to go down and tie Lambchop and the other one was to pull him up. (age 3 1/2)

She Will Be King!

2009-08-06T05:46:00.004-04:00

Teagan woke halfway through the night & asked me to crawl into bed with her. Then she told me, "I don't have any dreams."

"Would you like some?" I asked, "What would you like to dream about?" I thought of her recent declaration that she'd like to be a zookeeper when she grows up. "Animals?"

"No. I dream of castles."

"Oh. Castles, huh? And are you a princess?"

"I am King," she reports.

"King? OK. Are you a kind king?"

"No."

"You're not? Are you a mean king?"

"Yes."

"Who are you mean to, Tea?"

"To the bad guys."

"Well, OK, that makes sense. You are mean to the bad guys. Are you going to throw them in the dungeon, then?"

"Yes."

Huh. My daughter! Her brother's influence is strong & obvious, no? Let her dream on!

No Hospital Homilies For Me!

2009-08-06T04:00:00.009-04:00

The third "9th" was her road--not 9th Street, or 9th Place, but 9th Road! Arlington's weird like that. Tammi was outdoors, weeding, as I approached. I waved from my car, as I signed off of a rare phone call with my sister. A gardening midwife. Fits!

We started talking right away as if we'd met before, though this was our initial intake. I was surprisingly taken aback by the neat-as-a-pin interior of her living room, the clean berber carpet, the feng shui of it all. No one could find themselves uncomfortable here! I was parched, and Tammi was happy to oblige my request for a tall glass of cold water.

So, I'm committed to doing this! I feel empowered. Brave. Even nervous, but I am readying myself psychologically and spiritually to take on this experience differently than I did with my first two children. I am ready to trust myself, my Father in heaven, and Mrs. Tammi McKinley with the birth of Stephen Lawrence!

Birthing at home. Women around the world squat against a tree and birth babies in all sorts of climates and environs, but in America we have medicated birth and turned it into a dire emergency worthy of latex gloves, pale green masks & beeping machines. Before there were fetal monitors and doppler instruments, there was the Grand Creator of all Life--and a plan for birth which managed to work for...oh, you know...THOUSANDS of years! Yes, yes, many remind me, infant mortality was high in the pre-industrial age...

Do you realize that the infant mortality in AMERICA is higher than almost any modern country? True. We're second to LATVIA!! I read it in The Post, and here is CNN's report on this shocker! And, those are babies born with all the medical interventions you can muster up! Vacuums suck babies into the world. Forceps pluck & pull them out. Knives are ready to cut into Momma to extract newborns at the show of a stray eyelash (*blink*). But, our babies die here...just like anywhere else in the world. We have not perfected this process. Why? Because the truth about Life is that nothing is perfect, and we have no guarantees--even that we get to hold the babies we carry in vitro.

I know women who have tragically (even painfully) lost their babies at all stages along the 9-month waiting period, as well as those who've held their babes in arms as they passed away within hours of taking their first earthly breaths. Truthfully, no woman is immune. Not you. Not I.

Now, with that sobering thought in mind, let me tell you about my two babies' births. I labored for a mere 5 hours with Logan. Some at home, some along Hwy 64 West, some in a soothing "hot" tub, and the final bit for 45 minutes on a queen size bed. It felt really fast for my mom, husband and me, but it was just perfect, because I was able to play my laboring music (hand-selected songs that take me to a "happy place"), and get into a rhythm with my body and emerging Baby Boy. I know my 5-hour labor is not necessarily typical, but then I didn't take any drugs which altered my body's reactions to the natural processes going on within me...AND, I think I have an unusually strong pain tolerance. Mom birthed my sister and me quickly, so it's apparently in my genes.

But, Teagan's birth was briefer...

...by a LOT!

My mom sneezed at 4:45 AM, I woke up, my water broke, and it all began. Our 35-minute drive to the hospital birthing center was almost 5 minutes too long. Same as Logan: labored at home, labored in the car (SCREAMING, "Don't Come Yet, BABY!"), briefly labored in the room. VERY briefly! Teagan was born within FIVE minutes of my entering that room. I was unable to undress myself, and she was born while some clothes were still on me. I almost had a parking lot baby.

She was perfectly healthy, but the birth was totally out-of-control frightening to me!

Before I go on, I want to say that I do not want my post to come off as a judgment of any mom whose birth was 100% hospital/medical/typical of American births today. A dear friend recently C-sectioned, and I cannot make a call on that process for her--it's none of my personal business, and the event has passed. Sweet Baby Girl is here! THAT is the most beautiful icing on whatever cake sits beneath.

Many, many friends of mine (& family) have not had the birth experiences I have--my sister-in-law was in labor for something like 35 hours!

But, in light of Logan's & Teagan's births I have to make a decision that matches MY body's reaction to this process, and the fact is, I move FAST when it comes to birthing babies.

So, now we live in Northern Virginia. What do you know about DC traffic?

How about this fact? In an article from three weeks ago:
"Washington, D.C. Made Top 10 Most Traffic-Congested Cities – Traffic Jams Persist Despite Recession."

Top Ten? It is NUMBER 2, behind L.A.!

No, I do not live in DC proper. I live 25 miles outside of the city. We are a "bedroom community" to the nation's capitol. Traffic out here is steady, heavy & somewhat predictable, but baby-labor is not! What if I start laboring at the same time as I did with Lo & Tea? We were on 64 West with both babes during morning commute times, and my husband wasn't breaking any speed limits to get us to DePaul!! I got to the hospital around 8:30/9-ish for Lo, and 6:30 AM for Tea. Those are PRIME traffic jam hours in this neck of the woods.

Would I prefer a highway birth, with the dirty car floor at my feet, and the kids in the carseats feeling confused and scared as Daddy tries to decide whether to keep advancing towards the hospital or pull off of Fairfax County Parkway & endanger all of our lives as he helps deliver our son in cramped quarters? Um...no! But, if this baby follows Logan's or Teagan's patterns (i.e. my body's mode of birthing), then that possibility is pretty high, on my way to meet up with the OB/GYN at the hospital 8.22 miles southeast of us.

So, I've thought, & I've prayed, & I tried to make it work, driving out to an OB/GYN 11.63 miles from home, taking Fairfax County Parkway to Rt. 50 East to Lee Highway. Highways. Parkways. Routes. It's heavy traffic! In the end, that facility and I had a different idea about my birth plan, and it was easy for me to walk away.

That is what led me, today, to a safe, sweet, peaceful house in Arlington, Virginia. That is why I took the advice of 16 homebirthers in my local homeschooling community and set up today's interview. I believe in a Creator God who designed my body to do this thing!, and I know that He has given me everything I need to do it well, and even solo, if I needed to! Women, today, simply do not trust our bodies. We don't understand them, and I think it is far too easy to trust the white-coated professional who tells you what to do, where & how (but not always why!).

Hmmmmmm. Sort of reminds me of some people's criticisms of the Church! When the homily was in Latin, and frescos and stained glass were meant to illustrate the point to the masses of illiterate, people just trusted what they did not understand (literally! Even as Latin became a "dead language!"). They trusted the man in the white robe & peaked hat. They did not ask questions, and they, therefore, did not always come to know the depth of faith that I feel I have access to today. The Church fell apart by leading by the "Follow Me Because I Know Better & I Say So" leadership style. Some of those men in peaked hats horribly misused their authority--permanently devastating many people. Our recent American history reports some of the worst abuses of authority the Church has known.

Are today's hospitals not today's Old Time Religion with new coats & caps?

Maybe it's the Protestant in me that prefers relationship! Relationship with my Savior which starts at my opening my own copy of Scripture and kneeling at my own bedside talking to the One who made me; and relationship with my children as they work with me to enter this world. Oh, yes, this fits me much better than the sterile, brightly lit room that begs for my insurance dollars to fill the coffer. The parallels are getting stronger in this metaphor! Shew--that's a whole new essay!! Thinking aloud, here...

Anyway. We'll be giving birth in the living room. Oh, man, am I glad I have women around me who prodded me to consider it more seriously! Thank you, Ladies!

Oh, had I a golden thread
And a needle so fine
I’d weave a magic strand
Of rainbow design
Of rainbow design
In it I’d weave the bravery
Of women giving birth
In it I’d weave the innocence
Of the children over all the earth
Children of all the earth
Far over the water,
I’d stretch my magic band
To every city,
To every single land
To every land
Show my brothers and my sisters
My rainbow design
Bind up this sorry world
With hand and heart and mind
Hand and heart and mind
Oh, had I a golden thread
And a needle so fine
I’d weave a magic strand
Of rainbow design
Of rainbow design

Eva Cassidy, "Oh, Had I A Golden Thread" lyrics

Facebook Faceoff

2009-07-13T21:01:00.011-04:00

The Foundation: Loss
Since I attended three elementary schools, two middle schools, two high schools (and more colleges than I dare share with you), the theme of loss has always been a thread in my life history. I met young girls I loved & spent endless hours with them—sometimes for three or four years—and then our family had one or another reason to move away. The moves were distant, and staying in touch typically lasted just a year or so. I eventually lost track of sets of friends with each transition, as our maturing lives meant many changes across the distance, and I often tired of the gossipy update letters about my former classmates. Our lives diverged significantly, with different college choices (or not), marriage (or not), faith decisions (or not) and career paths, which left us with less common ground.

Where Rediscovery Equals Healing
With Facebook, I have been able to connect again with one after another friend from my past, and hold on. In those reunions with people I lost over time, some of my young-child hurts have been healed. I have rediscovered friends from Michigan, Virginia, Texas, Pennsylvania, Connecticut and beyond. Gaps in my life story have been filled! Four hundred fifty five friends later, and…

What? Did I just type 455 friends? Well, Facebook labels any connections you make on their site, “friends.” I cannot say I’d make a date for a cup of tea and a Saturday matinee with all 455+ of those people I’ve linked to online (many are former or current colleagues in business or homeschooling), but that is one of the appeals of this social networking space—that your former boss is offered the same label as a sorority sister: “friend.”

Facebook quickly became an active and addictive escape for me. My older son is an intense child, wild in his own ways, and often difficult to parent. When I preferred to part from him and enjoy myself hidden away in the dark, I disappeared into the bluish glow of my desk and the deceptively inviting screen, where I peered into any former co-ed’s pages to “meet” their children, see where they live, and check out their wedding photos whether we were even in the same cliques in high school. Facebook is like the largest party I’d ever attended, where everyone has brought along a photo album to pass around! Better than that, we pull out the Scrabble board & challenge each other’s word power, or play a mindless game of “How Well Do You Know Me?”

I used to have mixed up dreams like that. After so many moves, I would wake up talking myself out of believing that Amy knew Christine, who knew Susan. In the dreams they’d all been together with me for some occasion, but when I woke, I separated them again—one was in Michigan, one in Texas, one in Connecticut. They’d never met in real life, though I was sure they’d like each other if they could. On Facebook, each can now see comments posted on my “wall” by the other, and my dreams of childhood are playing out before me! Amy and Christine join Susan to write me notes where the other can see, read, and even respond! What a freakish “miracle!”

Watching my dreams come alive on the flat screen kept me up too late at night. I confess I was daily checking first thing in the morning; daily popping back in after lunch; daily playing games in the evening! Whenever I felt restless in the mundane, I chased the curious & intriguing on Facebook. YouTube videos posted by “friends” were hysterical, or made me ponder a new thought. Emails coming into my network-only inbox were more intentional and specific than the overflow of spam, phishing and newsletters cramming my regular email inbox. Photo albums are just fascinating, and new baby announcements are always a quick and absorbing draw. I cannot fathom how many hours of my weeks were sponged up into Facebook over the months that it had control over me.

Time to Take Inventory!
What happened in my home, though, was not so fun. My children were getting my back more than my face! My already challenging son began acting out more intensely, and our home became troubled. What could be so much more intriguing on that screen than getting on the floor with my son to examine the details of his newest city build-out? LEGO blocks, Lincoln Logs and train tracks crisscrossed our floor in intricate detail, but I was annoyed when he called me to look, because I had another post to write!

I was raised in a home where addiction ruled many adults around me—and their peers. I had to recognize, quickly, that Facebook held and controlled me just like going to bars to socialize and drink had gripped my mentoring adults in my own childhood. Did I want my children to be Adult Children of a Facebook Addict, in lifelong recovery because of their absent mother?

Downsizing the Screentime
Lent approached. It was obvious what I needed to leave behind for those forty days. Another friend of mine initiated a Facebook group of others preparing to breakaway for the Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday season. Our group grew, and national news engines got wind of it. I was interviewed for the Wall Street Journal about the coming fast!

Leaving Facebook for forty days was one of the most freeing decisions of my life. We traveled to see family, and the children had their mom back during a beautiful spring. We walked more, we played together, we baked, I attended the annual March for Life in D.C., and met up there with my fellow Facebook buddy IRL ("in real life"), who was also fasting. The hours I had sacrificed to the screen were back, and belonged to my family. I even got pregnant during my Facebook Fast!!

As the Lent season came to a close I felt no starving desperation to log back on. I waited a few days, and slowly returned. I set a boundary for myself, and committed to only sign in on what I termed, “Facebook Fridays.” This worked for a couple months, but then I got sucked back in by cheating on a Saturday, then a Tuesday, then 5 days in one week. This is what you might call “falling off the wagon!”

Facing Down Facebook
How does an addict break away? COMPLETELY! The trouble with Facebook, is that my live address book is there. If I can’t find someone’s email address or phone number, I sign onto Facebook, and shoot them a message, or post on their wall. I make business contacts there as well. Worse than that, though, is that I have been witnessing online! I reconnected with a friend now living a lesbian lifestyle, with a high school pal who’d found Jesus, and with a woman adamantly pro-choice. I have posted over and again, justifying my words as “salt and light.” Occasionally, posts get very controversial, heated, and even mean between “friends” over issues of politics and/or religion (pre-Lenten fast, the McCain/Obama election was a particularly busy posting period for so many of us!). I often put my virtual foot in my virtual mouth because of my passionate feelings on particular topics…

And of course, once again, my family is left in the dust when I engage with digital faces instead of the tender ones growing up too fast around me!

Accountability
The only way I can personally manage Facebook is to have someone else manage it for me! I gave my husband my password, asked him to change it, and now he has the only key to my profile. I am returning to my once a week dedication, with his help. He can sign me on at 10 PM on Fridays, and I am committed to be off before midnight. In this way, I can maintain the online relationships I want to, hide the updates on people I don’t need to hear from regularly, and see the newborn photos of my dear (true) friends’ children. In fact, so many of my IRL friends have migrated their main communications to Facebook that it is nice to pop in occasionally.

As I have been very frank on Facebook and on my blog pages about my addiction, the beauty is that others have admitted (on my wall!) pulling their own use back due to my leading example. There isn’t anything intrinsically wrong or evil with Facebook or other social networks—as I’ve mentioned, I’ve found Facebook to be a nearly miraculous tool for healing in my life! But, for those with addictive personalities or backgrounds, it can be such a “Time Suck” (can you hear the sucking sound of your life going down the drain?).

That was the case for me. Maybe you need a Facebook Fridays Fasting plan, too? Or, if you struggle with addiction in your life, already, perhaps you need total abstinence. Don’t be afraid to face yourself in the mirror in your honest inventory of your “need” for Facebook. Go ahead, have a Facebook Faceoff!

What can replace your time online? Scripture reading, prayer, devotions, exercise, time with your husband, children, the friends who’ve been there long before Facebook, and will be long after you sign off. Everything you used to do before Facebook & Twitter got a hold on you! Rediscover your IRL life!! Inhale, exhale, and then read over my modification of AA’s Twelve Steps, print them, and stick them on your computer screen!

Godspeed!

"My Stupid Mouth"

2009-07-07T00:29:00.006-04:00

This is the song that repeats itself in my head every time I have the STUPID idea to break away from fast of my once-a-week Facebook Friday. See? This is true addiction! Knowing what not to do, and diving right in, anyway!!

My stupid mouth
Has got me in trouble
I said too much again
To a date over dinner yesterday
And I could see
She was offended
She said "well anyway..."
Just dying for a subject change

Oh, another social casualty
Score one more for me
How could I forget?
Mama said "think before speaking"
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do
I guess he better find what soon

We bit our lips
She looked out the window
Rolling tiny balls of napkin paper
I played a quick game of chess with the salt and pepper shaker
And I could see clearly, An indelible line was drawn
Between what was good, what JUST slipped out and what went wrong

Oh, the way she feels about me has changed
Thanks for playing, try again.
How could I forget?
Mama said "think before speaking"
No filter in my head
Oh, what's a boy to do
I guess he better find one

I'm never speaking up again
It only hurts me
I'd rather be a mystery
Than she desert me

Oh I'm never speaking up again
Starting now... Starting now

One more thing
Why is it my fault?
So maybe I try too hard
But it's all because of this desire
I just wanna be liked
I just wanna be funny
Looks like the jokes on me
So call me captain backfire

I'm never speaking up again
it only hurts me
I'd rather be a mystery
than she desert me

oh i'm never speaking up again
i'm never speaking up again
i'm never speaking up again
Starting now, starting now...

(c) John Mayer

Defeat...or not!

2009-07-01T09:07:00.006-04:00

My challenging son has taken me to the end of myself. I find I have no creativity, little joy, and barely even a foundation of energy to make it through this new day. However, I poured my salty tears out on my floor last night--twice--and I know this with all of my heart--the Holy Spirit intervened on my behalf, and Jesus heard me.

I do not feel refreshed this morning--I didn't sleep enough last night. I do not feel energetic this morning--the memory of yesterday is too profoundly present. What I do feel is hopeful, even in my exhaustion, because I stand on the Word of God, which makes so many promises to me. First is that when I am weak, He is strong (1 Corinthians 4:10). No, no, not "he," Logan (although, certainly he is STRONG!)! No. I am talking about my God! My God is bigger than my weakness! This firm faith I have carries me through my scratchiest & most painful moments.

I wrote an article about this very issue that was just published in the July 2009 edition of My Friend Debbie, today, called "Hope in His Hands." The bottom line, if you don't have time right now to pop over there to read the entire piece (though I highly recommend it!), is this:

" I am not capable of overriding God's plan for my children. I will do my very best to be a good mom to them, and some days I will soar as the best mom they or any child could have! But, other days I may be their “worst enemy”—or even my own--working against the plan of God! However, I am not capable of defeating God's plan. This is the hopeful message I have to share with myself today--and with you. Even on my son's most miserable day, he was still created with a purpose. This message is for everyone!

I think that's all I have to say about that. I'm going to follow Dr. Laura Schlessinger's advice now, throw out vanity (my eyes are puffy & I look ten years older today), and, instead, "Go, take on the day!"

Indelible Embrace

2009-06-27T01:42:00.004-04:00

Logan and I pulled up to the house after two hours of Mommy/son time, while Teagan had remained at home with Daddy for her nap and dinner. As my headlights hit the townhouse wall, I noticed, in the lower right hand corner of our front window, Teagan's beautiful face and her fingers, pulling her up on tiptoe. She had been watching for us, missing her brother, and as soon as we pulled in, her sweet eyes disappeared from my sight, and she ran to tell Daddy we were home.

As Logan stepped out of the car, Teagan ran down the front steps, her arms wide, straight into the open arms of her brother.

They hugged, and Logan picked her right up off the ground.

Some have joked that I cannot remember portions of my life for which I do not have a photograph, but that priceless moment will never leave my memory. That is all any parent could ever dream for her children! Tom & I recalled it tonight with tears welling up in our eyes. They adore each other so much! I pray they make room for Baby #3 in there somehow!!

Wow.

Deconstructing the Decomposing

2009-06-24T18:55:00.004-04:00

Daddy? What are listening to?

Strauss

Oh.... (seems to be processing...so Tom replies:)

...a composer.

Ohhhhhhhh! (long pause). What's a decomposer?

Perfect Perfectionism

2009-06-20T18:12:00.002-04:00

The greatest all-time Olympian, swimmer Michael Phelps, has been described as a perfectionist. By reaching for the seemingly impossible and settling for nothing less than the best, he attained his goals and beyond. So, is anything wrong with perfectionism?

St. Matthew urges us to, “be perfect as (our) heavenly father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48) And, Jesus answered a man trying to achieve salvation through his obedience to law (or through his works), by saying, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell all your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” (Matthew 19:21)

But Hebrews 7:11 reminds me that perfect attention to God’s law was an unattainable challenge to man. As God’s Chosen people worked for His approval and their own salvation, their acts took on greater importance than the heart behind the law. The gap that existed between God and man clearly defined our need for a “better hope,” (Hebrews 7:19), which came through our eternally present high priest, Jesus.

So, are we to reach for perfection, or not? The answer is found in perspective.

Romans 3:23 is a critical verse to keep in mind as we evaluate this issue. All have sinned. Not one of us is perfect. All fall short of God’s glory. So, as we strive to be more Christlike in character, we must, “consider others better than ourselves,” (Philippians 2:13), and not lord over their imperfections with rigid judgment and a wagging finger from some lofty pedestal! (Matthew 7:1-5)

Only God’s way is perfect (2 Samuel 2:31, Psalm 18:30), and while we must try for perfect faithfulness, perfect peace and perfect unity, we should not look for the external to be perfect, nor place an expectation of perfection on others’ behavior and actions.

This is most difficult for me as a Type-A mom, because as flawed as I am, children are further, still, from perfection. They have little self-discipline, short tempers, and a very long way to go. Their growth is dependent on my gentle guidance and teaching along the way. When I am impatient, I think I am responding to their naturally sinful inability to reach my unattainable goals. Enter grace!

I praise God that His grace is sufficient for me. His power is made perfect in (my) weakness! (2 Corinthians 12:9) As a woman who longs to raise my children to know and understand Christ’s power, I must extend and demonstrate grace to them over judgment, and always keep in mind that unfailing love is the greatest of all God’s gifts. (I Corinthians 13:8, 13) As a mom, let me daily choose love and grace over perfectionism. Ironically, in doing this, I may come closer to being made perfect!

Santa's a fake!?!?

2009-06-19T09:42:00.007-04:00

Mom! N doesn't believe in Santa. He says it's just Mom & Dad. So I said, "Well then who goes 'ho-ho-ho' and gives you presents?"

We laughed together, but I didn't address the bigger issue--just said, "Some people don't celebrate Santa, sweetheart." Then he ran back outside, seemingly content. Moments later, my daughter came running into the room, screaming, "Mom! N says Santa is stupid!"

Great. First incidents of discrimination against my kids' beliefs...and this one, being a false one, is hard to defend at this point--I mean, it's JUNE! I am not prepared! I called the kids in to get the whole story.

Logan had been reading a Calvin & Hobbes book with N--one strip was about Calvin protesting Hobbes' lack of gifts from Santa. This is when Neighbor N put his two cents into the picture, "I think Santa is a FAKE!"

So...breakfast dialogue today was about half a bubble off plumb for us...

What do I teach out of this? I told the kids that even though we don't watch or endorse Sponge Bob Square Pants, we don't tell our friends, who do, that it's stupid, do we? I also endorsed the story I have repeated to the children each December--the true story of a saint and martyr named Nicholas. When this "fairy tale" finally falls apart, I want to stand on the historic truth of Nicholas' life of service, humility & giving.

As we talked about Christmas, and Santa, and others' beliefs, I remembered a couple Christmases back when Logan met Jack's little elf--it's a tradition in some homes to bring him out before Christmas so he reports to Santa on the children's behavior. Jack is older than Logan, but Logan said the elf wasn't REAL, and Jack protested in tears, as he ran to report to his mom...

...and I reminded Logan how Jack had been hurt by Logan's unknown insensitivity--and how we need to be careful to be aware of others' traditions (I called our celebration of Santa a tradition, rather than a belief...)

...and now I'm thinking of my friends who've chosen to not include Santa in their Christmas celebrations...and all that I have to prepare to unravel for Logan...but had not been prepared to discuss with Teagan already.

Today, I am considering all that the older kids might share with Logan before his mom & dad do...though we've already discussed Where Babies Come From, since I'm expecting one...

*sigh*

Twelve Steps off the Computer...

2009-06-18T12:49:00.003-04:00

(crossposted on Maddening Mom Fusings & this site, Modern Mom Musings...):

1. I am powerless over connecting online, & my life has become unmanageable.

2. Jesus can restore my sanity.

3. I need to turn my will & life over to Christ DAILY.

4. I have made a searching & fearless moral inventory of myself.

5. I admit to my family & myself & to God, the exact nature of my wrongs.

6. I am entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. I am humbly asking Him to remove my shortcomings.

8. I have made a list of all the people I have harmed, and want to make amends to them all.

9. I have made direct amends to such people.

10. I will continue to take personal inventory, and when I am wrong, promptly admit it.

11. I am seeking, through prayer & meditation, to improve my personal relationship with Christ, praying only for knowledge of His will for me, and the power to carry it out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these Steps & Christ's grace, I will try to carry this message to other addicts & practice these principles in all my affairs.

Think I'm an extremist? Well, every time I get sucked into Facebook, or online games, or checking frantically for new emails, I lose time...I lose a sense of boundaries (like bedtime, and mealtime, and the like). I am willing to step forward & say, this is truly an addiction! It's not pornography, or alcohol, cigarettes or drugs...but it's like a drug--there is some need in my brain that is being fed by all these little electrons--& I'd prefer to pick pea pods off the struggling plant my kids & I grew in our backyard than sit here in this chair that's giving me varicose veins! Hear me?

So, less of the Mod Mom Musings is a really good thing. Celebrate with me! ;-)

Ciao for now.

Apprenticing

2009-06-17T22:41:00.003-04:00

One of our pastors gave a lesson on apprenticeship in July, 2006 (shortly before we moved up north), and I've kept a little scrap of paper since then, with my quickly dashed notes. Think I'll throw out the paper & put the thought here, instead!

This so TOTALLY applies to being a homeschooling parent. If I take this approach (esp. in science!), I think all of our lessons will transfer well.

1. I do; you watch
2. I do; you help
3. You do; I help
4. You do; I watch

COOL, huh?

(Homage to Teddy Roosevelt)

2009-06-17T18:30:00.010-04:00

My son came barreling into the kitchen weeping about 30 minutes ago. That's not unusual: sometimes another child accidentally hurts him, sometimes he falls off his bike, sometimes he's just upset about a childish injustice in outdoor play. We allow Logan free play outdoors with the other neighborhood children almost daily--all of the collective parents have one eye & one ear open as we allow our children some non-helicopter-parent time. A couple of us set a boundary like, "30 minutes, then come in for dinner." Tonight was like that. I was making dinner, Logan & a buddy were playing with squirt guns, and sticks.

Yesterday, they were characters out of Star Wars; some days they do a cops & robbers type of play. I'm not sure what today's game was, but Logan had chosen his favorite 4' long walking stick for their adventures.

Sticks.

I don't remember whacking sticks about in the air as a little girl. My son is a sensory-seeker, however, and he is 100% boy. He & his little buddies across the street take up long sticks as light sabers, guns, canes, umbrellas, horses, the rubicon, etc. We keep a small collection of the best behind our peonies, out of sight from passersby.

Logan's pal was squirting Lo in the face with water too many times, so Lo raised the stick in play to say, "Stop, or I'll get you with my spear!" His buddy didn't feel threatened--he knew this was part of their play. The neighbor lady whom we've never spoken to before, did NOT think this stick play was humorous, however, and yelled at my son to, "Put that stick DOWN!"

Logan did so, immediately. She picked it up & launched it into her yard...then Logan came running to me, telling me someone had taken his favorite walking stick--"a stranger!"

His father & I went to the woman's house to find out the full story--we were open to her version, and were not angry (though definitely curious). Both boys claimed she'd yelled at them & that they were scared of her--a third neighborhood boy confirmed their story. They all said she was "mean." I wanted to know if her motivation was out of fear that Logan might hurt his buddy--in case she was stepping in to protect the other child, and not just exerting some random judgment over the situation.

Did our son go into her yard? Seems the answer was no, but that he was whacking the stick around, and hitting things. Like what, I wanted to know, like trees? Sure, like trees, her car (she claimed)... "Did my son hit your car?" I asked, "because he claims that he did not." No, in fact, he was not either on her property, nor hitting her car. I asked her to please let us know directly if either of those things ever happened--we instructed Logan, in front of our previously invisible neighbor, that he is to stay off of her property & go nowhere near her vehicle. She said he can swing a stick around on his own property, but made clear that he should not do so on her property, nor the sidewalk (again, we have now established that Logan was neither on her property, nor near her van).

The sidewalk is public property, I reminded her, as my husband said that was not her place.

I told her that these two boys are dear friends, that the other did not feel threatened by mine, that they were playing and laughing, and that we were not clear on what his offense had been. I said, "Boys play with sticks," and shrugged.

"In fact," she replied, "None of the boys I know do."

My husband's reply was classic!!

"Well, we are raising our son to be a man."

Oh my goodness!!!!

Needless to say, it was an awkward exchange. We've lived here for nearly 3 years and never heard hide nor hair from this woman, but she scared the crud out of our boy this evening. Lesson learned. Walk around the "woman's sidewalk" from now on.

Or, better yet, walk softly when you carry your big stick!

Breathing very nicely, thank you

2009-06-16T22:53:00.001-04:00

UPDATE:
Thoroughly enjoying my time away from most things electronic.

Just thought I'd drop a quick update, since I have no interest in hanging out here for an hour. I'm going to bed!

(grins)

Heroism...continued

2009-06-09T21:47:00.002-04:00

O God, early in the morning I cry to you.
Help me to pray and gather my thoughts to you, I cannot do it alone.
In me it is dark, but with you there is light;
I am lonely, but you do not desert me;
My courage fails me, but with you there is help;
I am restless, but with you there is peace;
in me there is bitterness, but with you there is patience;
I do not understand your ways, but you know the way for me.
Father in Heaven praise and thanks be to you for the night’s rest,
Praise and thanks be to you for the new day.
Praise and thanks be to you for all your loving-kindness and faithfulness in my past life.
You have shown me so much goodness; let me also accept what is hard to bear from your hand.
You will not lay a heavier burden on me than I can carry.
You make all things serve for the best for your children.
Lord, whatever this day brings, your name be praised.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, [A prayer written in Tegel prison, Berlin]

The 12 Steps...

2009-06-08T09:04:00.005-04:00

Decided to be my own hero & get OFF the Internet!

So, no more NoMoBloPo for me. It's my second attempt, and I do not need the pressure of writing an inspirational post every day. I write for My Friend Debbie right now, as well as editing for the site, and am still maintaining my part time job with CBN, so I don't have time to homeschool my kids, keep a clean house, maintain a budget, clip coupons, do laundry, plan family travel/visits, keep up those two assignments, be a supportive & available wife, AND write on this blog just because I said I would! Nah.

Well, I've been an open book--Facebook sucked me in, Yahoo groups demanded my time, and my children saw my back more than my smiling face--so, I've declared myself an official addict, in need of intervention!

Gotta go! The kids need me!

God, grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change, the POWER to change the things I can, and the WISDOM to know the difference!

Amen!

Heroes: Day 4/30--WIVES

2009-06-04T22:27:00.004-04:00

My heroes today are all my girlfriends who have struggled through the difficulties of a "bad marriage" to come out the other end more mature, more at peace, and now living in a slammin' awesome partnership! I have some very specific friends in mind in a few different states--LR, AA, KM, KB, KB2, NC, AH, DH, et al... Sometimes we hit some uncomfortably rocky paths--heck, sometimes we're sliding on our rear ends down a steep crevice!!--but endurance, faith and hard work can carry us through to the other side--to a healthy & vibrant relationship that is better for its depth and history.

Nope, it's not my anniversary or anything, but I'm just loving my husband, today. Thinking about our nearly-14-years of married life, and about how much he's put up with me... and, I know he'd confess that he hasn't been the easiest man to live with many a day, either. But, hey! Look at us! We have a third child on the way, and we are making every day come together, and we're at an absolutely beautiful peak right now. So, I want to thank my friends, LR, AA, KM, KB & KB2, NC, AH, DH, for demonstrating that even marriages that seem to have all odds against them can go beyond surviving...to thriving!

So, to those of you questioning the viability or vitality of your own relationship--I encourage you to work it through! Go get the advice, help, counsel you need. Pray together. Make it a priority, and don't give up! Trust that this time is work that is good & necessary. Just think--if your situation is really bad right now, it can only IMPROVE!! Thanks for trusting me with your gunk. I'm praying for you...a bunch of you...you know who you are!

Good Night!

2009-06-03T23:07:00.004-04:00

You know who my hero is tonight? Any mother who went to bed an hour ago or earlier. I'm off to do that, myself. No time to blog this evening--stayed late at a Celebrate Calm seminar I set up at our church--and then had a quick follow-up after tucking my almost-asleep kids in. Now, it's my turn, Sisters!! I'm going to B-E-D and sleeping till I want to rise in the morning. Whee Whoo!

Source Heroes

2009-06-02T23:59:00.002-04:00

How do I follow my post about my mom with Heroes Day Two?

I don't want this to be 30 days of a seeming competition (who was listed first, who's more of a hero to me than someone else). There's too much politicking in my family life. I'd rather hold a discussion about heroism.

AND, I've posted here about my conviction to teach my children the Hebrews 11 Heroes of our faith. I think I will stray from the personal for a couple days, & stick with the biblical.

Tomorrow: Abraham.

Heroes: Day 1/30...my mom

2009-06-01T23:27:00.006-04:00

I turned 39 years old today. Nothing felt terribly different for me, though I anticipate being a little freaked out by next year's more momentous celebration. When I look in the mirror I still see myself as I perceive myself. In other words, nothing is catching me too off guard, yet. Well, there are the expanding hips & thickening trunks my legs have become since I began this third pregnancy, but then, my bathroom mirror isn't full length, so I can ignore that situation for now...for the sake of the baby...right? Running a marathon by my 40th birthday still isn't off the table, people! I'll have seven months from Baby's Birth to my 40th!!

But I signed up for this EveryDayForAMonth blog challenge, again. You may recall I failed to follow through in March--I was on a Lenten fast at the time, and felt that maybe my daily blogging was starting to replace Facebook. Like switching from tobacco to cloves, and saying you're no longer a smoker, right?

The National Blog Posting Month category for June is, "Who Are Your Heroes?" You know what kills me? The images options they posted for "heroes."

and

Really? Is either of these men a...hero? A comedian, sure! But...a hero?

OK, Red Skelton was one funny, funny guy, no doubt! But does he qualify for "hero" status? Well, he suffered two major losses in his life, as a suicide survivor, and father to a young son who died of Leukemia...and, he stood up for Christian faith in discussion of our Pledge of Allegiance...so, sure! Many would and should mark him as a hero!

For me, though, on this anniversary of my birth, I have to count, first, my mom.

Mother's Day, 1998; my bridal shower, 1995

When I was born, mom was younger than the average mother--and she admits, unprepared to take on the responsibility of raising a child! But, in a beautiful note to me this year, she wrote that the moment she met me, she "fell in love." I have felt that love from my mother every day of my life. Even when I was sixteen and swearing at her through gritted teeth and a slammed fist on the dining room table, my mom loved me. Even when I was venturing down a path in my early 20's that made her rightly fearful, she loved me. Even now, in my last year of the 30-somethings, as necessity keeps us too distant from each other, I know my mother's love will always remain true for me--and now, for my children, as well. She prays for me every night--for my role as wife, for my family's well-being, and for each of my children, and my husband. She knows just what to ask when she calls for a family update. She always seems to come through for me in the most important moments (Mom was present at the births of my two children, and I hope we have the opportunity to share the birth of this third babe when the time comes, as well. She's also been available to help me move on a half-dozen occasions, even when my moving was deeply painful for her).

I graduated from Community College, 1995; Tom got his Master's degree, 2004

I miss my mom constantly--not just because I could use the parental relief of a nearby grandmother, nor because of the way she fully invests herself into my children's value as maturing human beings, but because of that love I feel from her which is so tangible it reminds me instantly of a very bad day when I was repulsively ill in high school. Sounds odd, I know--but you know when you are SO sick that you are whining for your mom? There is a clear day in my mind when I was as sick as I have ever been--and that little bucket beside my bed was there because my mom was home. And the blankets that engulfed my feverish body were tucked in place by my mom. The water that was on the ready had been carried up by her loving hands.

Sure, sure, every mom tends to her child when illness hits, but you see, my mom was patiently available when I needed her. Not only on that miserable day when my mouth was dry & I thought I'd die from stomach pain! I know that right now, at nearly-midnight, if I were in dire straits and really needed Mom, I could wake her with a phone call (though, frankly, I doubt she's sleeping at this moment--I inherited her night owl activity...), and weep my worries into the phone without feeling I'd inconvenienced her in the least.

Still, she draws respectable boundaries. The balance is artful!

In the past year or two Mom's had some preoccupations that have kept physical distance between us which saddens me--but I know this is a season, and it will pass, and I am a woman who doesn't need my hand to be held any more. It's just that when your mom is so dear to your heart, you want to keep her close.

The day Mom first found out she was going to become a grandmother, 2002; Mother's Day, 2008

Why is she my hero, and not just a really good mom? Well, she suffered through a difficult marriage and a painful divorce but practiced impeccable self-control in never negatively influencing my sister's and my opinion of our father. She always allowed us to have a unique relationship with him without her personal opinions coming down heavily on our times with him. This was an incredible gift! We were able to come to our own conclusions about Dad, and develop our own relationships with him over time. She asked about him--how was he--and had he called--and left it at that. She never looked for an opening to complain.

In fact, my mom just isn't a complainer...at all! There are three lessons she repeated to us growing up--Be Creative, Take Risks, Be Responsible. But, those didn't weight heavily on me, because she came from a family who demonstrated these characteristics, and my mom lives this way, herself. I knew this was a way that could be followed. I saw that this approach led to a Good Life. Mom is a cautious optimist, and even when she might question a decision I'm making, she treads into the realm of critique sensitively.

Planned my grandparents' 50th anniversary surprise, 1993; flew out to Vegas to support me as Mrs. Connecticut-America, 1998

Sure, we've had some ticked-off moments--doesn't every mother/daughter team clash? But, Mom has demonstrated LOVE. Please don't think this is trite. I think authentic, real, genuine love is not as easy to find in this world as we might all like to believe. What does it look like? All that I've described about my mom. She is concerned when there is cause, but takes her worries to the Lord. She gets mad at me if she thinks I'm behaving irrationally, but forgives me if I've wronged her. Love is an under-running river with ebbs and flows, but it never stops moving forward. This river cannot turn back on itself, but is alive, and changes between noisy rapids and gentle bubbling. This is my mom's love. Beneath the surface, it is always moving...forward!

20 years ago; 10 years ago: SURPRISE!

So, today, on my birthday, I recognize my mom, who spent three years making difficult single-parenting decisions before finding love again. She chooses to care for herself beautifully (exercising, staying in shape, looking ten years younger than her age, which I refuse to reveal to you)--but not to the neglect of the rest of her family, whom she loves with the steadiness of a strong, beautiful river.

Mom & George's wedding day; and their 25th anniversary, last summer

Thank you, Mom, for choosing to mother me! I love you.

Mom with my sister, Anja, and me. Summer, 2008

Tending to my grandmother after grandma's aneurysm, circa 1999

Dancing with Grandpa, New Year's Eve, 2005

Where our end became a new beginning...

2009-05-30T19:01:00.008-04:00

We thought we were done raising frogs, today, when we brought a singleton (last with a slight tail) back to his originating pond...

...we brought a neighborhood friend, who was with us on our first capture. It wasn't until we were well along a muddy path that I realized how poorly shod she & my daughter were for the adventure:

Teagan got to be our "releaser" today. She was delicate & helped me find a little grassy area right next to the puddle to free the frogger.

What I had not anticipated, however, was that we'd go home with a new project all together!

We found puddles and puddles and puddles of eggs!

Whoa. Now a chance to observe from the very beginning. Fan-tas-tic!! We carried home a very small sample (might produce ~the same number of tadpoles we just raised). I am hoping they are the same breed. Can you look closely to see those dividing cells!?!? Whoa!

Tads to Froglets!!

2009-05-29T13:26:00.012-04:00

We started out with two buckets--one full of puddle water & one full of tadpoles, and converted a toy drawer into an aquarium.

I found so much online information about raising tadpoles--and more than three sites recommended boiling lettuce to feed the little guys. Ours loved it!

They also seemed to like eating algae they found on the edges of our tank.

I wrote into Logan's notebook that we'd counted 24 little tads! Added a couple rocks, and started our tragic 8-day journey that ended with a Mother's Day discovery of belly-up polliwogs.

Would we do it again? I was sad, and depressed, so I sought expert advice from naturalists who encouraged me to try again--our tads might have had a better chance of survival in our aquarium than they could have had in a puddle that is dependent on rainfall to last through their metamorphosis.

So, we returned to the shrinking puddle--and scooped up more.

Then went back, again, with friends, so they could join us in the adventure.

You'll find us down at the river at least once a week--and we often get really, really wet!

Our second batch was 14. ALL fourteen survived & turned to froglets, with the aid of direct sunlight, store-bought tadpole pellets, a live plant in the water and a bubbler to provide them with enough oxygen.

YAY!!

Now that we have supplies, we can tackle this project even better next year. Here's our photojournalistic report of the return to the pond (five other families took on this project with us--or, 5 adults and 13 kids from May 1 to May 29. COOL!):

Here are two videos from the beginning and end of the frog-rearing process:
Video One--revealing some of our family dialogue. Lovely. But, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! Just watch the tads:

Untitled from lisandrea on Vimeo.

Video Two--Teagan (age 3) sweetly narrates a little description of what we see in the water just hours before our first release:

Froglets from lisandrea on Vimeo.

When he's motivated...!

2009-05-29T13:02:00.003-04:00

Age 6

Five F-16s, engaging radar during night flight. Four have their landing gear down, frontrunner is lowering his.

Don't like it? Just skip it!

2009-05-14T01:35:00.005-04:00

Teagan crawled in first. She does every morning. She complained of being cold, and curled up to steal my heat. I am a giver--it's fine with me!

Logan joined about 20 minutes later. He also had that wonderful morning warmth, so we all bundled up under my comforter, and I asked them how they slept. Had they had any dreams?

Teagan's answer to me:

"Yes, I had a dream about a snake--but I didn't like that dream, so I skipped it."

Skipped it? What a marvelous idea! She went on:

"The snake was trying to give me poison, but I didn't like that, so I just opened my eyes up, thought of another dream and closed my eyes again."

That is some amazing subconscious control! My husband thought the story hysterical when I recalled it to him. Here's why I appreciate it so much--it's pure Teagan.

My water broke on the morning of her birth just seconds after my mom sneezed, waking us both. It was a weird experience. Intense contractions began immediately, and we got our act together and darted for the midwifery center. Teagan was born 35 minutes later because she was ready whether we were or not! She was about 2 weeks ahead of our "due date," but she seemed to be born to nurse, and just had to kick her way out ASAP, because she was hungry!

When she was apart from me very briefly in the nursery, awaiting the pediatrician's little physical, my girl let out some serious hollering! I called to her, through the glass, "You go, Teagan! Tell them you were just born and you do NOT like being apart from your mother! Advocate for yourself, little one!"

I had only known her for a few hours, but I saw her as a righteous protestor, and advocate for herself. This is true of her today. Even in her dreams she determines if she does not like the direction something is going, and she chooses a different path.

May this determination and discernment be hers for a lifetime. Wow. What an amazing little bird!

Here, Teagan writes on one of four homemade Mother's Day collage cards--she is working on writing all the letters of her name, and insisted on drawing a frame around them, too. The card she drew for me has her first portrait--of MOM! ;-) It's adorable.

My Job...My Hope

2009-05-12T20:28:00.006-04:00

I have had a most amazing and encouraging job for the past 6 years, working for an organization of phenomenal integrity (where I started in a different role, in Year 2000). I have the opportunity to call people around the nation whose lives have been changed by the real & active power of Christ: some have come through some frightening experiences, even life-threatening; I've interviewed a woman who almost died giving birth; a man who shot himself in the face and lived to tell others about the dangers of meth use; two highly-educated women who were convicted of prescription-related-drug felony charges, and served time in penitentiaries; men whose drug addictions destroyed their families and themselves; and many who experienced physical healing that magnified their faith. In six years I have conducted a couple hundred interviews: a young girl who was adopted through a chance encounter with just the right person at the right place and time; the grandson of a famous multimillionaire wanted to tell us about the faith of his family, today; people in the music industry--names you'd know, and names you wouldn't. My job has flexibility: I can make my calls & write up my research in the evenings while my children settle into bedtime with Daddy.

So, why am I telling you all of this? Because the common threads in them all are REDEMPTION, HEALING, and HOPE. They share in common FORGIVENESS, GRACE, and CHANGE.

On my most difficult parenting days (like today), I think of some of these people I've shared moments with--a man who started getting drunk & hiding in closets at age FIVE; a man who was smacked over the head with a two-by-four by his father; people whose families gave them no introduction to faith at all...and I consider their childhoods. I consider the childhood I am attempting to give my children...

In each and every case, I am calling these people to hear their stories not because of where they've been, but because of how they've been changed by the power and glory of God! The ones who served time now minister to those in prison. The one whose husband killed a man in a car accident, now works with the deceased man's wife to share the truth of DUI's with people all over the world. Those who survived hurricanes talk about how much of a miracle their losing everything was, as it drew them to the one thing that mattered most! A man who never knew he was a father, now embraces his son. Do you see? Their stories are only 10% about the misery, but 90% about the glory!

What I take from this is that even if I am to fail miserably as a parent (which I wouldn't say I'm doing), the Good News is that I really am NOT in control. First of all, everything is in the hands of our Creator, God, and He can bring diamonds from ash and coal. Secondly, my children will some day be responsible for their own actions, and I will have to look at them, and their choices, and trust that same Creator God to move them as He desires. Thirdly, even as I simply speak the name, Jesus, into their lives, I am giving them one of the greatest tools they'll need--a name with power & authority. The Name above All Names!

In the cases I have described, Life was not good to many of these people--but God spoke into their ears anyway, and through it all. In some cases, individuals just chased after the "exciting" or "enticing" in life, more often than not just out of boredom--but they found no satisfaction there. I know one man whose job as a police office almost brought him down completely (literally--he was shot at by a criminal, whom he then had to take down), but he, instead, found a redeeming belief in the God who made and loves him.

All I am saying is that I have to let go of the really bad days--opening my own hands wide to trust God's hand over all.

I am not capable of overriding God's plan for my kids. I will do my very best to be a good mom to them--and some days I will soar as the best mom they or any child could have! But, some days I will be their worst enemy--and my own--even working against the plan of God! However, I am not capable of defeating God's plan. This is the hopeful message I have to share with myself today--and with you. Even on my son's most miserable day, he was still created with a Purpose. This message is for everyone!

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11*

What a wonderful load off of my shoulders! Parenting him is certainly not a responsibility I shirk, in any way, but I must not, on the flip side, carry it like a heavy and back-breaking burden. I will do my best, and then God will fill in my gaps.

What a relief!! Oh, this gives me cause to WORSHIP!!

I hope you see the same hope for your own children today!

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets."

Matthew 7: 7-12*

*New International Version (NIV) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society

Our Boy's Been Published!

2009-05-09T21:29:00.007-04:00

My mother & I talk frequently about Logan's strengths. His storytelling capabilities present themselves as dominant. He is a creative writer, with big ideas & amazing detail. He can maintain focus in a humorous or intricate tale for much longer than his age group's supposed "attention span" would deem "normal." His writing is astounding, so he dictates to me & I enter his words into a keepsake journal.

When he was four, Logan wrote a poem that made me laugh. I loved that he understood the humor of his own words, and thought the piece was nice enough to share. We emailed a submission to Highlights Magazine on 12/19/2007. That was 15 months ago!

I got a manilla envelope in the mail on Thursday, addressed to Logan, from Highlights. Inside were two mint copies of June 2009's edition. I was confused, as no note accompanied the package, but I handed each of my children one to read as we drove to an errand. About 20 minutes later, as I was contemplating why we had received two copies of the same issue, specially wrapped, when we are subscribers and typically get one with a label slapped on the back, it struck me! I bet he's been published!!!

I rapidly flipped to the first child-submitted pages--Jokes--on p. 15. Logan's was not a joke. Moving on. Pages 18 & 19: artwork related to a specific request for images about windows. Nope. Not ours. Could there be more? Next page. Q&A. Again, not Logan's. Page 31. Tongue twisters. Nope. Flip again, and on page 32...LOGAN!!!

Your Own Page
p. 32
Highlights, June 2009

Shoes go on the feet
for walking in the desert
or on the street.
Shoes are for walking
on the road
and for walking up steps
and down steps
and up steps
and down steps
and up steps
and down steps.

(c) Logan W*******, Age 4
Virginia

YAY!!!! I called my dad immediately, as he is the one who buys Logan this subscription. Then I called to announce it to Mom & Dad V. We called Daddy. We told the neighborhood! He's been published!!!!

Now, we'll tuck that away till his first novel goes to print. Ha ha!

What a thrill for us all. AND, his is the youngest of all the submissions. COOL!

disappointed face

2009-05-06T10:19:00.002-04:00

Defeatedly, I am posting at my darker sister site today...

I won! I won!!

2009-05-04T22:51:00.002-04:00

At the time it happened I couldn't exactly TELL you all, as I had not yet announced my pregnancy to family, let alone the blogosphere, but I wanted to report that I actually WON something (& pretty big, too, from Madre Gear) through the 5 Minutes for Mom Ultimate Blog Party 2009! BIG GRINS!!

I got this super cool georgie maternity t-shirt for this lady named LISA who is expecting a baby!! Yeah, Mona Lisa/mama lisa. Sweet. Perfect!

AND

I also got to pick out something else to equal my total win of fifty U.S. dollars(!), so I bought a maternity bra, of course! If I had known then (on March 31st, when I won the gift certificate) that I would NOT find any casual maternity clothes packed away anywhere in my house, I might have skipped the bra and gone for another fun piece of clothing...but...that was before the Big Fruitless Dig (& later discovery that I'd returned the items to my dear friend from whom I'd borrowed them three/four years ago...who proceeded to have her third son & then never wanted to see the clothes again, so generously passed them onto others..).

Ah, well. I am better outfitted with a practical bra & a totally impractical, but delightfully fun tight t-shirt. Yum! Pregnancy is cool!!

THANK YOU, Laurie, at Madre Gear!

Little Green Icebergs

2009-05-04T12:02:00.002-04:00

Just before Christmas I heard the happy sounds of my children playing together downstairs as I began to ease out of the light sleep I was still trying to hold onto in the morning. We'd all already kissed our good-mornings, and I gave them my traditional, "Just five more minutes," plea, as they skittered off to find five minutes of fun before breakfast. Only, the familiar sounds I heard told me to cut that cat nap short--the children were playing in a box downstairs.

When it arrived, full of fully-wrapped Christmas gifts, my children and I shared in the giggles over removing one box after another, reading the tags and placing each present beneath the tree. The box which had come to our door from UPS was quite large, so I told my children, as we unpeeled the tape, that it would make a good playbox--a ship, perhaps. That was before I pulled back the flaps to find, under layers of Sunday comics, hundreds of green styrofoam packing peanuts.

Styrofoam peanuts. I set the box aside after we emptied its more important contents, and promised myself to gather those, somehow, before giving the children that box. Only I'd gone to bed without doing so, and the next morning, I paid the price.

Oh, yes, they found that beautiful brown cardboard cube, and they decided it really ought to be a ship. Hey! Green foam! That looks like fun! From upstairs all I heard were occasional words like, "get in," and, "look," and "ok, get out."

Deliberately, slowly, and patiently, I pulled myself out of Logan's loft (where I'd fallen asleep with the children the night before, reading us all to sleep), taking each step carefully. With the same purposeful plodding, I took our stairs to the landing, and down. I was considering them, not myself, and it helped to keep me calm.

What I saw was everything I dreaded and more. They had been breaking the peanuts into smaller bits, as if the litter itself wasn't enough of a challenge. I asked them, "Well, what do we have here?" and Logan excitedly told me how this is the Atlantic Ocean, and these are icebergs!! How could I do anything other than marvel at his creative mind!? They were thrilled!

I had to hit them with a little reality check--this is a BIG mess. A really BIG mess. And, by the way, YOU are going to have to clean it up. Oh, and let me share a new piece of information with you. Peanuts like to stick to you with static electricity, so, good luck with that!

I put a little soapy water in a shallow bowl, encouraging them to start with damp fingers, so they didn't find boomerang piece returning to their hands on every attempt to drop them into the paper bag I had propped open in the middle of the chaos.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because that day was a MAJOR victory for me. I think most moms would understand how I could have gone wholesale ballistic on those two, sine there was a thirty minute clean-up job just to put the green devils into bags, plus a vacuuming session for the tiny pieces...but I did not lose it. God gave me great peace, patience & understanding.

But, for the record, I thought you might enjoy a video of the situation, to fully wrap your mind around it:

Green Peanut Icebergs from lisandrea on Vimeo.

(December 19, 2007: Logan was 4 1/2; Teagan recently age two)

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary &... Basil

2009-05-04T12:02:00.000-04:00

"A tree is known by its fruit;
a man by his deeds.
A good deed is never lost;
he who sows courtesy reaps friendship,
and he who plants kindness gathers love."
St. Basil (329-379)

I have no idea who St. Basil is, but I am sorting through the "piles" in our bedroom/office/closet/storage room and found this little torn-off piece of cardboard, obviously from the bottom of some box of something. Maybe tea. Maybe gluten-free cookies. I don't know, but if I kept this man's words once-upon-a-time, but do not need to anymore, than I suppose a blog is a fine place to deposit them. It's one new way I'm going to throw away papers. There's another one here, too: it's a beautiful quotation about mothers as children's first teachers...something I copied from another blog. I liked it enough to want to write on that topic...yes, it's here, somewhere...

Clutter. This is my biggest enemy. Even greater than anger, because I think it is a component of my anger. I think it is a contributor to my anger! I think that a great deal of my life frustrations come from the mounting piles of my life. The artist in me collects beautiful things (Oh! I'm an artist, am I? Well, once-upon-a-time I thought I was...and others did too, so they gave me money to attend art school. But that was long ago. My apologies to the scholarship boards!). Why do I keep? Why do we do this to ourselves?

For me I believe these things in some way help me define for myself who I am. Pleasant quotations, childhood photographs, pretty pieces of stationary... Does that mean I am a scattered pile of nonsense? Sometimes, yes. But, I am also the woman who organizes the seemingly-disconnected piles. Oh, and BTW, if you are my spouse, and something of yours has sunk deep into the abyss of our shared desk, and you need it right now, I think you'll always be surprised that I can put my fingers on it within a minute.

My mother collects beautiful stones.

My grandmother collected valuable dolls.

My dad and sister collect friends (who are quite helpful to have, I might add!).

My stepdad (AKA "dad") collects busy & important paper.

My husband collects facts.

My grandfather collected himself.

I'd prefer Grandpa's collection over my own cluttered way of doing life. Mine leads to frustration. His always was the precise opposite. He was ever & always collected.

Hmmm. Something to think about as I continue to work on the organization of this newly assembled shelf system in our be-all room. 1000 square feet. Four people with another on the way. It takes a talented couple to get it all together here. Sometimes everything just overflows. I'm working on flood control. Actually, flood control is what I need in all areas of my life, except the spiritual. I could use a good spiritual overflow right now!

Maybe, as I rid myself of the emotional baggage, the overflowing papers, the collections of incomplete projects, and all other physical excesses in my life, I will have room for the Spirit to pour over me! Hey! If my dear husband is reading this, I'm afraid he's ecstatic with hope about my potential and his freedom from my "disease..." Don't get too excited, Dear. I am just thinking out loud. There's a baby on the way, after all. Isn't that what most of us do when we contemplate where the new little one will go? Think out loud about who we'd like to be & how we'll make room for the essentials?

Check back with me in 6 months!

"When I was a little girl..."

2009-05-04T11:55:00.000-04:00

"When I was a little girl," I whisper to Teagan, as I stroke her hair and help her drift back to sleep. "When I was a little girl, I had a small bed with an old saggy mattress. A couple of the boards of the bed frame were broken and missing from under the mattress, so it sunk down in the center and made a little hole."

I remember this so well. I keep stroking Teagan's hair, and push it gently away from her eyes. "I would curl up in that hole as tightly as a roly poly bug, Teagan--only softer." I imagine, maybe, as tightly as a house mouse... "And, I loved that hole. I was cozy under my Snoopy sheets."

Teagan is barely hearing me now. Her breathing has deepened and I think she's totally out. She is wrapped up tightly under my retro Snoopy sheets now--the same ones I slept under 35 years ago when I was her age. It strikes me with a great deal of irony.

"I was cozy under my Snoopy sheets and I loved that saggy mattress. I was safe there. Even though there wasn't any wallpaper on the walls around me, and even though I could see pink insulation in the door jam frame of my closet, I was curled up with my Raggedy Ann doll..." and then it hit me--"Just like you are right now."

I kiss her, and thank God that, already, she's had a much better start than I.

Can't get the lead out...

2009-05-04T11:37:00.003-04:00

Lately, I've been turning beautiful phrases over in my head as I fall asleep at night. Trouble is, they fade in the night, so I have not been able to transfer my recent "musings" onto either paper (also known as my journal), nor this good ole web log.

Thinking almost constantly about:
*downsizing
*where do the socks go?
*my homeschool commitments and struggles
*how pregnancy backs up my system
*when will be the right time to buy (as in, HOUSE!)?

I want to write about all of these things--a new post on each! But, where will I find the time? Not tonight. Have work calls to make (probably 5!). Not tomorrow. I'll have work writing to do--following up on those calls. Wednesday repeats tonight; Thursday repeats Tuesday...

Maybe I'll get back to the blog on Friday...at 11 PM...before the auto shut-off I set on my computer prevents me from staying up too late (it can, sadly, be dismissed...so it is only a reminder of the time on many nights).

Until then (whenever that may be),

See ya!

p.s. I am also writing now for "My Friend Debbie," an inspirational online woman's magazine. Loving the opportunity & exposure! Hope you find it fun!

Expanding at the waistline; Downsizing the screen time.

2009-04-25T08:12:00.010-04:00

The forty days I took off of Facebook proved to be pretty productive! I walked forward at church to pray for healing from my rage, enjoyed a worshipful concert that same day, went away for a three-day retreat a few days later, was available to attend the funeral of a family friend, celebrated Palm Sunday in Williamsburg with family, visited with my aunt & uncle, went to Richmond twice to see dear friends, brought 25 kids together to wish my son a Happy 6th birthday, sang The Messiah on Easter Sunday beside my parents, and also...GOT PREGNANT!! ;-)

I've gotten back on FB, and I must say, I am kind of disgusted with myself. I've engaged in arguments which I had no business starting, I've been invited to (& accepted) another game of Scrabble, I've posted a bunch of trivial polls about myself, and...it's all so stupid that I feel like fasting permanently to regain my composure!

Except for the fact that I have also, as I have previously mentioned, been able to reconnect with people I care about & discover other friends' pregnancies, and appreciate beautiful photos of family's and friends' children growing up.

So, it's time for me to set some definite & clear boundaries. If I could stay off for 40 days (it was so refreshing!), then I can follow these new rules for myself!

1) I will not read everyone's update every day. With over 400 people on my friends list, this is an impossibility, and with a third child on the way, absolutely ridiculous to even contemplate!

2) If I see an update on the front page which annoys me, I will NOT comment. I do not need to get into controversial dialogue with otherwise in-real-life friends in a flat, textual space. This is a damaging & wasteful use of both of our time. Text doesn't carry tone & intent properly. It can be too easily misinterpreted, and it's too easy to say more harsh things in writing (almost anonymously) than I would ever say in real life.

3) In fact, if I don't have anything nice to say, I won't ay anything at all. I will even avoid sarcasm which I know could be appreciated by another, who "gets" the joke. Why do I need to spend any of my time on earth offending strangers who just happen to be friends of my friends, reading the comments on others' pages? What a petty use of my time!

4) I will only post positive and/or encouraging things, myself. I will no longer post political messages, including those I am most passionate about, because, as in real life, politics & religion stir up the waters too much, in a virtual world, to be properly received or worked out. I have plenty of friends who will cover this arena. I don't need to join that movement. I do not have time! I have a third child on the way! This is the time for simplifying!

5) I will continue to use the PHONE and snail mail to communicate with my dearest friends, and not rely on Facebook to get messages to them. The intimacy of meaningful relationships fades away when electrons become our sole form of communication. I have spent many years cultivating relationships which I have had over distance & life changes. The ones that matter most still need the care they've always needed--and that is a personal touch on birthdays, and a phone call to catch up.

6) I will only check Facebook once a week--on "Facebook Fridays." This is a boundary I've crossed many times, in attempts to rein in my use of the "social network of all time." But, if I could restrain myself for 40 days, then I can go cyclically six days in a row, can't I?

7) I work part time, and that needs to take precedence over time online. I have to make phone calls on Monday & Wednesday nights, I have to write-up my research, I have to read new assignments in my inbox. I cannot keep this part of my life organized if I am scattering my time between incoming homeschool-related emails and Facebook. I have two kids to raise, meals to make, laundry to fold, vacuuming to run, and faces to kiss. I do not have time to invest in this crazy time-suck! I will only allow myself Facebook time on Friday night AFTER I have put in 10 hours at The Job. This is only fair to my family, where the income & my commitment to my job is still necessary.

Frankly, these will NOT be easy commitments. At this very moment, my children are whispering between themselves as they stretch & start the new day, and I feel more of an itch to go look in my Facebook inbox than to go kiss them all over. This is the definition of addiction, isn't it?

8) I will continue to read the Bible, My Utmost for His Highest, and Each Day a New Beginning daily. I will start my days this way, instead of checking the Internet. I am always renewed through the words of God, the words of a famous minister, and the words of recovery which I've been returning to day after day since 1991. How can I let Facebook creep into my one-on-one time with the Lord and with myself, disrupting the old (good) patterns? This is the most important of all the items on this list.

9) Yes, as much as I HATE saying this, I will be held accountable by those who love & care for me. Call me on it! If you see anything other than a blog post announcement on Facebook in my name on any day other than a Friday, comment here, call me, send me a harassing email! I will behave better if I know others hear my commitment and will hold me to it. And, today is Saturday, so today is NOT a Facebook day!

10) I want to apologize to a friend of mine (who knows who she is) for getting out of control in a recent argument we aired in public on a Facebook post which just kept going. I was out of line. It wasn't my business to go there. Please forgive me.

That's it! Growing Baby takes a front-running role! YAY! It's about time I got my priorities straight!!

PLUCK IT OUT!! Get salty again!!

"And if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around his neck. If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out. And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where
" 'their worm does not die,
and the fire is not quenched.' Everyone will be salted with fire.
"Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other."

Mark 9:42-50 (NIV)

And Now We Are Six

2009-04-17T23:57:00.008-04:00

On his first day of life my son struggled to breathe. He was "blue," and was away from me on monitors in the nursery for an hour. I busily made phone calls to announce his birth throughout that hour, and was not concerned. I knew my husband was with him, and I trusted that the Lord, who had helped this little guy survive my imperfect pregnancy, would surely help him through this endeavor, too. While he did make it far past his less-than-ideal APGAR beginning, my mother and husband always recall that first hour very differently than I. I had just labored, and given birth; I was too tired to think deeply. Mom & Tom got to hover, though, and worry. Each year we recall Logan's first day of life they remind me of the frightening bits. I only remember seeing Tom carry him, with such adoration, back to my arms. I remember our son's alert face, and the marvelous feeling of his weight in my arms for the first, and then the second time.

On the occasion of his sixth birthday, Logan is again struggling to breathe. This time the situation is so much less worrisome--he has just caught a horrific cold, as have his sister and I--and, yet, I am reminded of his first day: his scurrying nurses, whispering to each other with their faces turned away from me; his midwife asking them to hear Tom say that he didn't cry much as a baby; my mom seeming genuinely concerned, waiting and watching the clock.

Last night Logan was coughing so violently that I took him into my arms in an upright chair in the living room, and fell asleep holding him up in my lap all night. When he began coughing, I woke just enough to lean forward with him and help his lungs work against the infection that's been plaguing us all since Easter Sunday. Tonight, when his coughing began again, I propped four pillows up behind him in his own bed, and will soon seclude myself to the living room couch to take on the same posture for one more rough night.

The irony struck me in such a way that I had to get it down.

Logan is now six. Six...? SIX! No birthday before this one has hit me quite the same. There's something about six that represents "older," and definitely-no-longer-'baby.' I cannot put my finger on it. He has his first (slightly) wiggly tooth on the bottom, front, and is tall and lanky. Forty-nine inches tall, and skinny as a rail, like my grandfather. He looks older. He acts older. He's such a part of our every day and every conversation. He's getting a little sass (ahem...), and knows himself well.

This is an amazing adventure--parenting--and I cannot believe that my son turned six today. Halleluiah! Wow.

Now, BREATHE, Logan!! Blow out your six tall candles with a full breath. Breathe well tonight. Inhale the goodness of your life, and God's love for you. Rise refreshed and ready to take on the new year.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, our sweet, handsome boy! How we love you.

*sigh*

I know I'll be okay...

2009-03-27T23:04:00.006-04:00

I wrote in February about a recent Sunday on my knees in prayer, then worship without my family in a poignant concert the same day. The following weekend, I went on a women's retreat. The theme of my life during that week was Ripping Out the Roots, and I don't mean the grey hairs that are becoming more obvious day after day!

I've written about this issue (anger) often on my Evil Twin Sister Site, but wanted to post, here, that I'm really doing GREAT! I feel like that spiritual surgery was sucessful. I still get ticked off at my kids (there are still good reasons for frustration, as there always will be, I imagine), but it seems to me that the Darkness has been chased away. Anything in me now, I own. None of what remains belongs to my dad, my paternal grandma, or her dad.

I haven't tried to blame anyone for my personal decisions, but only tried to comprehend the origin of the darkest parts of me. Once I fully owned the issue and made a conscious decision to Take It Out I have felt an incredible lightness!

As I was pulling into the parking lot tonight, my newly favorite song, "Brand New Day" came on satellite XM's station, The Coffee House. I quoted Radin recently, after the death of a close family friend, and he is becoming a favorite! Tonight, his music related to me. We have some exciting things going on in our lives right now, including my healing, and I feel this song so fully!

As the Ultimate Blog Party '09 draws to a close, I hope you can sing this out loud, up to the clouds, with all of your soul & believe it for yourself, too! It is a brand new day!!

(c) Josh Radin
"Brand New Day"

Some kind of magic
Happens late at night
When the moon smiles down at me
And bathes me in its light.

I fell asleep beneath you
In the tall blades of grass.
When I woke the world was new.
I never had to ask.

It's a brand new day.
The sun is shinning.
It's a brand new day.
For the first time in such a long, long time
I know I'll be okay.

Most kind of stories
Save the best part for last.
And most stories have a hero who finds
You make your past your past.
Yeah, you make your past your past.

It's a brand new day.
The sun is shinning.
It's a brand new day.
For the first time in such a long, long time
I know I'll be okay.

This cycle never ends.
Gotta fall in order to mend.

It's a brand new day.
It's a brand new day.
For the first time in such a long, long time
I know I'll be okay.

Just some big rabbits?

2009-03-27T10:04:00.007-04:00

8 AM. Phone rings. It's Mary. "They're on!" We'd all been checking since Midnight. The website didn't say when on Thursday they'd start the process...

Mary, Heather and I start clicking, clicking, clicking, in our own houses, with our children at our heels, asking for breakfast.

The screen tells me to "Chill for a minute..." as I wait to see if I'm winning the lottery...

Wow! Chill? How does the computer know I'm getting hot?

Then we are all waiting, waiting, waiting as our computers clock out time after time. Each of us has a glimmer of hope along the way--we each get codes, plug them in & click, but then the browsers clock again...and no confirmation page comes up.

None of us is excited about this new process to get tickets for the White House Easter Egg Roll. We're locals, and we were looking forward to sleeping overnight on the Mall, queuing up early Saturday morning, the day before Easter, and getting all of our tickets for the same time slot, so we could get on the lawn the day after Easter.

After an hour of no progress, I had to get my daughter to ice skating, Mary had a meeting. Our original plan was to meet on Friday before Easter, sleep all night among the other crazies who'd traveled across country to do the same, and wake in the morning to get in line. Instead, while our husbands were all at work, and we were, too, we couldn't dedicate a full day to this venture!

I called The Post at 9 AM. They were not interested in talking to me (though they ended up picking up the story later in the day). Then I called a local CBS affiliate, who came to the house to interview me about the frustrating process.

I had the video embedded here, but it auto-starts, so, here is the link, if you are interested enough to see me animated!

In the scheme of all the craziness in America, I know this may seem like a petty pursuit. But, last year was a sweet spot on our calendar--our first time to be on the White House lawn--and we went with friends. The nation is depressed. Our family's finances have never been tighter. A little gift from the White House would be awfully nice right now, when they are using my tax dollars to bail out Big, Irresponsible Businesses. I don't have a mortgage that is too big for my income (nope, we opted to rent when we moved up here, to avoid the overinflated home prices). I don't have decades of debt from irresponsible credit spending (nope, we have one credit card that we use occasionally, and do our best to keep it at a zero balance). We clip coupons, and bake our own bread. We pay for the public schools to stay in business, by living in an expensive county with "great schools," but then spend our own hard-earned money to pay additional expenses for all of our homeschooling texts, trips & materials.

All I'm saying, is that the WHEER was a nice Springtime event to look forward to. We've been considering this year's event since last year's, when Teagan was so thrilled at the end of it all, that at age 2 she wanted to tell everyone who called our house, "Me go Easser House. Me not fared (scared) of Easser rabbits!"

But, this is about so much more than big rabbits. This is a local tradition. There is energy and buzz and excitement, and Mr. McFeely, for crying out loud!!

So, all three of us mommas returned to the screen again & again all day, experiencing the same issues as in our first hour--until we got the final word around 6 PM:

"Tickets are no longer available for the 2009 White House Easter Egg Roll."

Not this year. Not for even one of us.

Bah humbug.

Nine Easy Pieces Rules

2009-03-24T22:11:00.004-04:00

Oo, oo, oo! Mr. Kotter! Mr. Kotter!

Before I lay my head on the pillow, I have to put a plug in for the amazing Grammar Girl!! Her post today was so relevant to this blog party that I just had to pass it forward.

Please check it out!

Next year, I'll do a good giveaway, and I'll follow the Nine Simple Rules of Grammar Girl to determine a winner. Oo! Is that in the 5 Minutes for Mom rules? I'll have to check. In the meantime, I better get to makin' stuff!

>>insert cheesy grin here<<<

Plugging the Maniac...

2009-03-23T21:58:00.004-04:00

Gotta mention, here, that on days when I do not blog as a Modern Mom, it is often because I have been a Mad Mom. So, go check out my three entries about this difficult day over on that other site.

Thanks!

For the record...

2009-03-22T23:07:00.003-04:00

...I am WAY down on the blog party list as Modern Mom Musings (#875!), but somehow #93 for Maddening Mom Fusings, which I registered in the party AFTER ModMom! What's that about? Are they randomly shuffled? Or...is my calmer, more deliberate Spiritually-encouraging side less popular than my raging-maniac-admit-I'm-incredibly-flawed side? Hmmmmm. People really like truth.

Either way, I'm delighted to be read! ;-) Thank you, all, for swinging by!

Now, to qualify for prizes I need to do some more reading/commenting NOW!

Ciao.

Church Skipping...

2009-03-22T21:32:00.009-04:00

It is very important to me that we attend church together as a family each week--it is one of the few things in our weekly lives that is consistent, we have many friends there, we worship together as a family, and learn the same biblical narratives together.

My children have always resisted Sunday School--for Logan I think this issue reveals precisely why Kindergarten would not have been a successful experience for him. He is ready to talk in greater depth about most subjects than the level that a Sunday School class for 5-year-olds tends to go. So, he's just waiting, the whole time, for us to come pick him back up. This makes him resentful, and then he fights the next week. By including him in the whole worship service, we have found his behavior in church to be exceptional--he just wants to be with the bigger people! He has memorized the songs we sing--the Sanctus, the Lord's Prayer, and more. We spontaneously sing them at home! Last year he got baptized and participated in First Communion. So church matters to Logan, like it does to his mom & dad.

Teagan just hates being anywhere without her brother--so she also joins us for the whole service, though I'd really like her to be in Sunday School, because there are some sweet little people in there she will not otherwise get to know, and she is more appropriately age-categorized in her class (where she is among the youngest, rather than the oldest).

HOWEVER, as Tom was on a three-day hike this weekend, I was doing morning routine without him--and we were running a little bit behind. We were leaving the house so late, in fact, that I just felt red-eared about it. And, I decided that racing to church to get there 30 minutes late would not be as valuable to me this day (nor the kids) as my just taking them off into the Shenandoah mountains, instead. We drove about 45 minutes, till we reached Berrysville, VA. About 10 minutes into the drive Logan said, "I've never gone this way to Truro before!"

"We're not going to Truro today."

"We're not!?"

All three of us were dressed for church--I had heels on, Tea was in a dress, and Lo was sporting some slacks--but I knew we could enjoy God's creation from the car, praying together, reading some books I had brought along, and worshipping God in his outdoor sanctuary. I was sure we could pick up some lunch items along the way, and that we were not in danger of freezing to death in the middle of a 56 degree day with a full tank of gas on a major highway. So, we went forth.

Pie at a roadside stand; bread & cheese at a natural food store; an adorable playground with picnic benches surrounded by mountains on all sides! Logan found another same-height boy and yelled from atop a 30' enclosed tower, "Hey, you! Yeah, you! Hang on--I'm coming down!" These two strangers then played side by side for 45 minutes, (mostly with Logan running ahead with big ideas, and the other boy agreeing to Logan's plan...), never even learning each other's names. They had arms around each other by the end. This is my son!

Logan is a leader. He connects well with others & finds common ground, laughs with them and makes fast friends. He is also a bit of a trouble-maker sometimes. Today was no exception.

The boys started shooting their fingers at each other, and then Logan & this boy (whose mother called him Brendan) were "shooting" Brendan's little sister (Ashley). Ashley did not like that one bit--and went crying to her mom. Girls! So dramatic! Well, unfortunately young Ashley was annoyed at least 2 other times--Logan apparently called her the Bad Guy (she didn't care for that & tattled to Mom), but Brendan reported to me that Ashley had told Logan she would punch him in the face. Hmmmm...didn't that with her mother, somehow!! Whoa, girl! Back down!

So, I got upset with Lo for chasing the little girl & making her the enemy. I didn't like that the boys were ganging up on Teagan & Ashley--and told him so, applying The Golden Rule:

"Logan! You know not to do something to another person you wouldn't want them doing to you! How would you feel if someone you didn't know suddenly called you 'The Bad Guy' and chased you around the park with an imaginary gun?"

"I wouldn't mind, Mom. I'm a boy, and boys don't mind anything!"

How Logan knows himself! It astounds me time after time!! When he throws a fact at me like that, my anger at him just melts away.

"Lo, how about we agree, then, that you won't torture the girls!? OK?"

"OK. Sure, Mom."

To a boy, it's as simple as that, isn't it?

Very different from Teagan's drama. She was so upset in a game of Dino Math Tracks, tonight, when the dice forced her into a faceoff with her brother (triceratops against stegosaurus). She whined & whined about it. She didn't want to fight with anyone! We explained that the game had dinosaurs in it; that dinosaurs fought; that these were the rules of the game! But she whined & whined & whined.

OH! One of each. How different they are!

I really needed this day--a Sabbath day!! I want to incorporate more Sabbath thinking into our lives. We had a visiting minister come to Truro about 6 months ago who shared how his family lights candles on Saturday nights to prepare themselves for the 24-hour Sabbath that begins & ends with sundown. This was the subject of last week's sermon, as well, and I have been wanting to put that into our weekly practice since last fall. We have used candles to celebrate many other momentous occasions--like Logan's 1st year baptism birthday last week--but I have yet to get us all to a decorated Saturday night table for a supper sanctuary moment. Tory (our Rector) spoke to this commandment last week (in our Lenten study of the Ten Commandments), and I feel even more convicted.

The rituals of a higher order church are not in place for rote reasons--they are meant to draw us in to meaningful understanding of deep spiritual concepts. Attending church, lighting candles, taking the bread & wine, singing, kneeling, standing... these are physical ways to express an inward effect in our lives.

I am sorry we skipped church today, as I always miss it when we do not go, but I am also grateful for a wonderful service we went to tonight at a daughter church--and I really loved the sacred time with my children in the mountains today.

This is my son's life verse:
Psalm 121 ("A song of ascents"), NIV

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

Touching Berlin Wall and 9/11

2009-03-21T22:43:00.011-04:00

The Washington Post is currently sponsoring entrance into The Newseum for children--so that my group, adult, entry rate today, was a mere $15 (oh, that was before we ate at the deliciously expensive Wolfgang Puck restaurant, though...).

Oh, was it ever worth $15!!

[2009 General Admission Rates are typically $20 for adults (19 to 64), $18 for seniors (65 and older), military and students with valid ID, $13 for youth (7 to 18), and children (6 and younger): Free].

We joined several other homeschooling families, today, for what we thought would be a group tour, only to discover that the Newseum defined us as a "group" so we could qualify for a fabulous rate, but that our tour was completely informal; self-guided, like anyone else's, in fact. So, rather than walking floor-to-floor with strangers, who just happened to homeschool in our zip code, we stayed with our friends on the lower (Concourse) level for the orientation movie, and a viewing of all related media about the Berlin Wall.

The movie was fantastic--defining news and describing the museum. War is news. Peace is news. Life is news. Death is news. Love is news. Hatred is news. I'd like to revisit it, as we had to rush out rather quickly for an emergency potty break right as it ended, and I didn't get to sit on the words long enough for them to stick. I'm a slow processor.

(I'm visualizing myself sitting on the words, now, and think a dear friend of mine will get a funny visual of my processing them through my behind, instead of my brain...)

Taken with my iPhone

Before entering the orientation theater, we spent some time in West Berlin. Overhead narration taught about the wall--how & why it was built, and the forces (political, ideological & physical) that brought it down. The video running in front of eight tall graffitied slabs was moving. I never realized one side of the wall was painted white so would-be-escapees could be easily seen (though I had seen a piece of the wall in Seattle in 1991). When we walked around to the East Berlin side, we were met with a large, transplanted observation tower, from which police would shoot those East Berliners silhouetted against the white wall, trying to escape to their freedom. The children and I walked into the base of the tower and stared up the cold, stone shaft, as piped-in alarms sounded around us. Experiential learning will stick forever in my son's mind. Teagan, just 3, may have very little recollection of this day, but Logan has studied WWII and understands the Axis & Allies concepts. We talked in great detail about the 29 years of the wall's existence, countries that are Communist/Socialist in the world today, and the privilege of living in America, where we take our freedoms to assemble, speak, protest, worship & report, for granted. Logan knows.

My son has never taken sudden movement well (from infancy), so he simply will not walk into an elevator when stairs are an option. For the record, The Newseum has the largest hydraulic-life elevator in the world. We enjoyed looking down on the glass walls of it from our perch on the sixth floor later in the day. I look forward to hopping in there one day for a smooth ride.

However, an enticing blue staircase climbs up along the side of the museum that faces the Capitol, so as we walked up each level, we peered out at a progressively better view of President Obama's office building. At the top, we ventured out to the open deck for a couple photos--though my children were tuckered out by then, and not willing to pose together for me. It's OK. We're locals, now. We'll be back.

Taken with my iPhone

The Newseum advises that visitors start at the top & work their way down. As we were stair-walkers, we did the opposite, and I preferred our way! Ending with 9/11 (4th floor) and the rooftop view (6th floor) was our dessert--I would not have wanted to start with that level of poignancy!

If you went top-to-bottom, however, that would bring you to the shops, wouldn't it...? Oh, compulsive buys!

I'm jumping all over the museum, here, but let me just speak to the 9/11 exhibit. It was awe-striking. My children & I toured The Pentagon last June, and stood in the rebuilt section where the hijacked plane entered the building and a memorial room was set up beside a chapel, but as we were then rushed through our guided tour, I did not get to spend any time contemplating the impact. Here, however, the remnants of the only journalist killed on 9/11 were boxed in glass beside large images of his original photos, recovered from his devastated cameras, and a video that shared his testimony. This was a man who ran into the chaos, as others ran as fast as they could away from the collapsing towers. His last photo was taken as the second tower collapsed--and that tower took his life.

(c) Bill Biggart

One mangled, rusty, macabre piece of the WTC was on display with a photo journalistic narrative circling around. It just happens to be an antenna--so the best headline of the day (wish I had written it down) was about how those who intended harm against our nation could not take out our freedom to tell others about it (report the news...). It was a precise line. I'll have to look it up.

Taken with my iPhone

In a small, inconspicuous room, a video ran on loop of interviews with media survivors--reporters who raced to Ground Zero to document the day. Among them was the man who took the award-winning photo of the three firemen raising our American flag.

(c) Thomas E. Franklin

At both the Berlin Wall exhibit (dozens of photographs, running video, preserved signs, etc.) and at the 9/11 area, I was so touched that I had to hold back or wipe away tears. I really wanted to let myself weep deeply, and for as long as necessary. No, I didn't lose anyone I loved on 9/11, and I didn't live in DC, NYC or PA at that time. But, I worked for an international broadcasting company--and the weeks that followed that one day were intense on my job--the emotions come back to me so quickly.

At that time I was part of a three-person team who wrote devotionals about how to remain close to God during tragedies--how to hold on to hope in hopeless times. I spent hours writing prayers which hundreds of thousands of people read and applied to their lives, for the 40 days that followed 9/11. Sitting before those tower images today took me right back.

There were other highlights of the day--Cal Thomas was in a live studio with an audience of Newseum visitors for an open-mic session. He also signed books in the two-story Newseum store, though we did not chase him down for an autograph (I think I should have, now that I think about it, for good Christmas gifts, but there was so much to see, and I had some weakening legs and sleepyhead kids). We watched him through the glass wall, and listened on hand-held phone sets.

Taken with my iPhone

There is one area my children wouldn't let me play in. After they played a fun sleuth reporter game on a touchscreen computer, I really wanted to give a news report from "the field" before one of the Newseum bluescreens! If I were with my husband, I could have asked him to hold their hands as I stepped up, but since we'd separated from our friends before the stairs/elevator hours before, I didn't have an extra hand or two. Again, we're locals! We'll return.

I highly recommend anyone within driving distance of DC get down here while the price is right! We enjoyed our day immensely, and recommend, recommend, recommend!

Metroing back to E. Falls Church stop

Party On!

2009-03-20T22:57:00.013-04:00

photo by Andi Grant

Since giving up Facebook for Lent I find myself a little...um...confused about how to end my day! There had been this nice little play-a-game-before-bed routine, and I enjoyed catching up with high school friends who were poppin' out babies, seeing photos in real time, and watching hysterical YouTube videos I would otherwise never have time to discover on my own! So, why did I give it up? Because it was becoming addictive!! One game of Scrabble with a local friend turned into 5 games going at once with friends around the country. Talking with people I hadn't seen in 20+ years turned into longer conversations that I think we'd even had back in the day...

I was interviewed for the Wall Street Journal on my addiction, and intent to quit for a while...which was a little fun, but mostly embarrassing. Another interview opportunity came out of that one, and I just never called the guy. What's the point of a Lent fast if you tell everyone, right? Oh, so here I am, again, talking about it! UGH!

BUT, BUt, But, but, the reason why I am talking about it is to say, "Oh, no! I hope this 5 Minutes for Mom party doesn't turn into my new FB!!" Fact is, it is very validating to be on Facebook, LinkedIn, NaBloPoMo and 5 Minutes for Mom parties. Voyeurs drop in to read about you, and you swing by their pad to see what they're about. It's like one huge apartment complex in NYC where all the strangers from 1A to 17D throw their doors open and invite everyone in--stay for a coffee, learn a new dance step, admire some shocking artwork, then meander over to 17C for some jazz, and work your way down the stairs little by little, till you're back in your own apartment a week later to clean up the footprints, and rumpled napkins on the floor. That's a good party, right? A progressive one! My husband--although previously quite critical of Facebook--was reading aloud one of his friends' status updates to me, laughing almost out-of-control. "See?" I asked, "It's like a long night at the bar, without the cocktails!" You jump from one short conversation to another all night, then leave having had a really nice time, and looking forward to returning.

Facebook, at least, is full of people I have known in my life, and have spent a LOT more time with than 3 minutes at a bar stool. Blog Parties, on the other hand, are like Speed Dating!

Hi!! I'm an overtired momma, trying my best to teach my kids how to live responsibly. How 'bout you? Oh, yeah? Cool recipe!

I LOVE IT!! About once a year. ;-) (See my 2008 similar post...)

Speaking of validating strangers. WOW, what a great video!! Someone who knows I'm not on FB right now shot this link my way. She'd, of course, seen it on FB! I was glad she thought beyond that party space to pass it on, because it certainly did make me smile a good hour afterwards (plus, I passed it forward).

p.s. Blog Party Prizes I'd love!

#USC66 Madre Gear
#66--Children's "I'm An Author" Story-Writing Kit--for Lo-Lo!
#19, #21 or #22--$50 Target gift card
#91 or #USC50--a $25 Target g.c.
#45--a nice new bag.
#93 Halo sleepsack--a great gift for a newborn!
#68--g.c. to CBD
#118 $25 Old Navy g.c.
#119 Life Journals!!
# USC1: Spanish for Children DVDs!
# USC37: wooden personalized teething ring--another great baby gift!
#USC 50--Pajama School (homeschool graduate biography)

Bring Them Up!

2009-03-20T19:07:00.007-04:00

We are rounding off our first official year as a homeschooling family, so I am retrospectively looking back, listening to many friends, more seasoned than I, and readying myself for the year ahead. I was the more learned student this year. My son may have met many children, read hundreds of new books, and participated in a co-op, but I discovered my parental purpose!

Long before bearing children I anticipated that I would homeschool. Simultaneously, I resisted wanting to be, personally, sequestered in a Christian ghetto, of sorts, where my family only knew and associated with Christians. I have the spiritual gift of evangelism, and I always get antsy when I’m not in the world, getting to know my neighbors, and looking for the areas in their life that need Christ’s healing. I need to have prayerful purpose with those around me who do not yet know who Christ is.

So, as a homeschooling mom, who spends almost all of my time with my children, how do I balance the desire to be in the world with the need to build a spiritual foundation for my innocent and immature children? This year I learned that the best way is the way I’ve avoided—shelter them with other children whose moms and dads are also teaching about Jesus at home.

As I spent a few hours devouring Scripture the other night, I was obviously starving for a word from the Lord on our next direction. I soaked in the whole book of Hebrews with such joy and abandon! Here is the evidence that my job is to teach biblical foundation first. My children need to be able to read Hebrews 11 all their life and know who all these heroes of our faith are: Abraham, Joseph, David, Joshua, Levi, Rahab, Timothy, and Melchizedek, to name a few!

We tried meeting with fellow Christians from our church to cooperatively teach art—but, while it was a joy to fellowship with other Christians, there was not a strong spiritual element to our work, and I realized we could have taken art courses with any vendor, instead. Nothing stood out about this time as unique.

We tried meeting with people who share our zip code, locals who homeschool for dozens of reasons, but found the environment to be as secular in nature as if our kids were sharing a public school classroom.

We tried gathering mostly with other children who are gifted, as our son is a highly advanced reader, but, again, our Christian faith was not as relevant as his talents.

In no space, yet, have we found fulfillment. Sure, his academics have been enhanced, undergirded, and strengthened, and I did attempt to start our mornings with Scripture to “supplement” our days—but morning ice skating lessons often rushed us out the door having barely eaten breakfast, and we found ourselves getting distracted by the snowfall outside, or some other thing that popped in between the Bible and my children.

I am now convicted that raising children to know and love Jesus must be our first curricular choice all the time. We can teach numbers from Noah’s story (multiplication, skip-counting, measuring, addition), and history from Moses’ testimony (Egypt, pyramids, deserts, slavery). We can teach poetry out of the Psalms, Proverbs and Song of Solomon, and writing in the memorization of scripture. All of Middle Eastern geography can start in Scripture.

Of course I need additional materials to raise my children from now through high school, but let the Bible be our first text and let the other be its supplement!

Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.
Ephesians 6:4 (NIV)

Religious Exemption

2009-03-18T00:12:00.007-04:00

How "religious" do we have to be to choose homeschooling for religious reasons?

Last fall we were able to opt Logan out of kindergarten based on his "non-readiness." In truth, he wasn't ready, not because he couldn't read or write his letters, but because he was reading like a 5th to 8th grader, was doing very well writing like a second grader, and was beginning 1st grade spelling. We couldn't envision him in a K class working on the elementary issues he'd mastered by a long shot, so I chose that option--since it was the only year we would be able to delay our public school choice. I needed more time to think!

Now I am facing down August with concern and conviction. We can send in our first annual "Notice of Intent" to homeschool (keeps Logan off the truancy list), with an explanation of his curricula, and our educational qualifications, then test him every year, and submit his scores to the State. But, frankly, I believe my right to homeschool is so fundamental to our core that these details are not the State's business. The more time I spend in the homeschooling world, the more I feel a real spiritual Call to educate our children at home.

That word, "Call," is a religious one for me. I am beyond concerned about our government, which endorses abortion, being in charge of my children's education. I am beyond upset that political agendas (either way) make their way into the classroom. I am ever-more convinced that the best environment for my children to learn in is with their sibling(s) and their parents.

In the Commonwealth of Virginia we have the option to send in a Religious Exemption form, which gives us the freedom to educate our children at home without State intervention. Ours is the only state which offers this option. For that I am so grateful! I whole-heartedly endorse Bob McDonnell for governor, and Ken Cuccinelli for Commonwealth Attorney General because I believe they will help maintain this unique Virginian right.

I must confess, the longer we get into this "alternative lifestyle," homeschooling, the more reasons I find for choosing this path. Elemental, however, is our religious reason. My son, in particular, is very easily swayed by a crowd. He needs a solid foundation of ethics and morals to be taught & reinforced at home, and we are the best capable people to give him that groundwork. He is very intelligent, but spiritually immature. I am so concerned about this heavy peer influence in his life, that his father and I have spent hours discussing the best course for Logan.

For us, it begins with The Fruit of the Spirit. It isn't enough to me to just say to my child, "Do good because Good is good." I believe in a Divine Creator who wrote the Law on the hearts of men. I believe we must study the words of our Creator to understand how we ought to live best. The world may say, "Hey! All religions have these common themes, 'Love one another,' and, 'Be united,'" but I do not see that as the message of Christ. He says he is THE Way. The truth. The life. It is my obligation to give my children this Truth first, above anything else.

If, once they leave our home, they decide not to live the way they have been brought up, that will be their own responsibility, but we will teach them about a God who loves them and has a unique Purpose for their lives!

In today's public school children have 40 hours of secular education a week followed by a few weekly hours of "religious training" at church or home (where parents have a faith practice). How is a Christian parent to compete with that? I'd prefer the opposite ratio. Let 10% of his time be communing with his friends in the neighborhood, after they've come home from school, rather than that time being stolen from his family, after he's already been gone from us all day!

Barna Group reports that, statistically, the children of Christians are falling away from the fold in record numbers. It's no secret in our communities. Churches are bending over backwards to be more appealing to teens, but they are failing, because they are competing with an enticing world. Why isn't God, Himself, the Creator of the colorful poison dart frog and the dripping wet rain forests, awesome enough to "entice" them to believe? Because the static of the world crowds out His voice. Barna reports that teens feel, "disengaged." Sure they do! There is a unitarian approach to all faiths, in school, which makes them seem the same. Or, there is no education on any faith at all (since if you talk about one, you have to talk about them all...). This is already leading to biblical illiteracy which affects the understanding of historic books that site biblical stories as allegory. Rich poetry. Shakespeare! So much literature from the past must be read with an understanding of Scripture (both Old & New Testaments). When we remove biblical education, we remove depth from children's comprehension and understanding of the beautiful works that have shaped us throughout all time! Forgiveness with Joseph. Redemption with David. Promise in Abraham. Hope in Jesus!

Frankly, I'm pretty proud of my Jesus, and I'd love to watch my children grow to know and love him like my husband and I do.

To me, family is the base. Here is where our children ought to be raised. We make a lot of mistakes, you know, but the beauty is that they are admitted in humility, forgiven in fellowship with one another, and turned into life lessons for us all. As a homeschooler, I grow! I may have less "me time" than other women, but I do not believe my Life Purpose is to focus on myself.

Not everyone receives this Call to homeschool. I do not judge those who opt to put their kids in public schools. They are different from us, and their children are made of different mettle. Our family and our kids, however, embrace this life, religiously!

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.
Proverbs 22:6

Can't Sleep...

2009-03-14T03:07:00.004-04:00

...used to use these insomniac hours to play Scrabble on Facebook, or Text Twirl or some other vocab builder...but now I'm just floundering here...oh, yeah! It's Easter Season!! LENT!!

How about giving PRAYER a try!? That often brings peace to my restless mind!

OK. I'm gonna go do that now. And maybe read some Scripture too, eh?

We put no stumbling block in anyone's path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.
2 Corinthians 6: 3-10

Giving Up Community?

2009-03-13T23:36:00.000-04:00

I have always known about homeschooling. I have cousins who were homeschooled, and others whose parents have, all my life, run an unbelievably successful private school that offers many of the same advantages of homeschooling. As a child I was very attracted to both of their alternative approaches to education, but that may be because of my one year as a Montessori kid. I remember Montessori as a critical season in my education. The highlights of my own schooling, in fact, are all related to "alternatives."

In the 3rd grade (Home Town #1) I was pulled into a small group of advanced readers to take on the unabridged version of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Ray Bradbury and Isaac Asimov short stories, and Watership Down, to name a few. I remember feeling a real charge that my gifts were being acknowledged and nourished. When I was ten-years-old (Home Town #2) I was in a new school where that sense of "specialness" was continued through another gifted program--"Futuristics." All of us were given forward-thinking projects--building, drawing & conceiving future buildings, factories, modes & means of doing the mundane. How would all sorts of operations be different in the future? We were also given French lessons. This program was outside of the "normal" coursework, and meant a different approach/perspective to school. Again, I liked that time of my schooling best. Anyone who homeschools their children can offer these types of alternatives to their children at any time, without having to wait on the school system to identify & nurture their child(ren)'s unique skills/aptitudes...

Moved to Hometown #3 and found myself in the top of my class with my two closest girlfriends--7th grade. We were acing the spelling bees, getting all A's, and sitting in separated groups for advanced mathematics. We were rewarded with bowling day field trips. It was some cool motivation! Leave school to go roller skating because of good grades. Awesome!!

Hometown #4 and I was over my head. SOCIAL SITUATIONS overwhelmed academics. I began to care more about whether I fit in than whether I could reach my "potential." I started NOT reaching my potential, in fact...

That is when I saw the nastiness of peers. That is when I felt jeers & sneers and condescension. Whew, how I hated 8th grade. It was awkward and painful. I was not among the popular and smart; I was just a newbie who had to prove herself--and I didn't know the social rules to "get" how to do that. There was some hidden key to fitting in, and I had no idea how to decipher the code.

Still, I got into AP classes in high school (on to Hometown #5) and was eventually accepted into one of the finest schools in America.

So, here I am, now a TEACHER to my own children. I find myself recreating for my kids the COOL aspects of my own education. We are involved in a couple book clubs that have us reading books WAY above Logan's age (i.e. Kindergarten level), which best suits who he is, as an individual. We enjoy baking foods at home to eat right away, which always reminds me of baking & eating my first carob brownie in school, in probably the 2nd grade (Hometown #1). We go in to DC to explore museums, stare at sculptures, and get involved in big fairs on The Mall. We forget about formal "school" to take in a family vacation, or be available to help a neighbor on-the-spot.

The highlights of my education were the big adventures. Now, if every day is a Big Adventure, then I suppose that will redefine "big," won't it? So, I am learning (as I did in college, when I was overwhelmed with all of my extra-curricular options) to choose what is BEST for us, for our time/schedule, and what fits our GOALS. Defining those GOALS: that is the key to being a solid homeschooling family.

BUT, here's the part that has me flabbergasted: the jocks & beauty queens separate from the brains and geeks in the adult population of homeschooling parents, as if this is our own public school childhoods all over again! In just one year I have witnessed pettiness, gossip, the purposeful tearing down of others, and downright immaturity from many homeschooling parents who are missing the Big Picture. I have been the subject of isolated criticism for my opinions or words, and I have seen others be scapegoated & targeted in shocking ways.

I thought I was joining a community of homeschoolers! I thought we were all in the same boat, so we'd all be buddy-buddy. Pshew, was I mistaken.

We need to throw away those roles we had as 13-to-19-year-olds!

I am, now, first & foremost, my child's ADVOCATE. I am his first line of defense against the homeschooling naysayers. Why are there homeschooling naysayers among homeschooling parents? We all need to support each other, regardless of creed, religion or politic! Regardless of our reasons to homeschool we are salmon, swimming tirelessly against the rapids to achieve the goal of releasing our children into rough waters and trusting we've planted them in the right place for their own best chance at survival before we die.

Swimming upstream is exhausting and it takes a strong fish to survive. When one fish starts bashing the other on the head, well, shoot if that isn't self-defeatist! This is something I NEVER anticipated I'd find in Community.

The reasons we homeschool are diverse--our faiths and choices are diverse--but must these paths we are choosing intersect in painful backed-up traffic jams where everyone lays on their horns to holler at the others, "Get out of my way! I'm trying to move forward already!"?

Before I homeschooled I only knew Christian homeschoolers. Now, I know fewer Christian homeschoolers than non-Christian homeschoolers. So many of my presuppositions about this lifestyle choice have been destroyed. Most of all, though, is the fact that there is no ONE homeschooling community. I wish there were, as we all NEED each other in order to ensure that homeschooling, as an option for any & all families, not be threatened in our towns, states, nor nation!

I've always said, "No one homeschools in a bubble," to answer the Red Herring question about socialization...but now I'm wondering if the bubble would be a better place to educate my kids! I have avoided bubbling them, because it is not realistic to our society's makeup (especially in Northern VA) to introduce them only to like-minded kids. We live in a neighborhood that is well-representative of NoVA's 70+ nationalities.

BUT, maybe "Bubble" equals FOUNDATION. Maybe we rein it all in for a year--keep with others of our "kind" for a bit and see how the chips fall! Aw, heck, that feels like retreating. Like SURRENDER!!

Oh, yeah. In the Christian Walk "surrender" is a very important word, isn't it? Maybe trying to become one united home "school of fish" isn't the point at all?

Wow. What a challenge.

Hey There, Facebook Friends!

2009-03-12T23:59:00.000-04:00

It occurred to me a few days back that every time I blog, my Facebook page notifies my friends that I have a new blog entry. That may look like I'm on Facebook, but I am not! It's just an auto post, set up in my preferences, and one I obviously cannot unset now, since I'm not signing in until Easter...

But, in case anyone was wondering, I'm NOT checking Facebook! In fact, I went into my almost-never-check-in hotmail account last night to continue the spirit of scaling back life, and unsubscribe from a bunch of newsletters I receive at that addy, when Facebook, Facebook, Facebook came up--informing me that so-n-so commented on X's wall, and that-other-guy tagged me in a photo, etc. I checked all the boxes & hit DELETE, so I wouldn't find the curiosity driving me nutso. In the meantime, my IRL (in real life) friends have been updating me face-to-face with, "Oh! you missed the BEST status update I've written all year!" Cracked me up (both the status update, as she relayed it to me, and the fact that it was given to me verbatim, aloud).

I've had some things to think about in this Facebook Fast--and you should see how much I've streamlined the house (YAY cleaning!) since then! Moving a computer, tossing out papers, rearranging books--it's all fabulously exciting for my dear hub & me.

I am, by nature, cluttered. I cannot recall a time when this was not the case in my life. However, I do not like wading through that clutter, (be it virtual, mental, spiritual or physical), to get to the place called Peace, so Lent is a perfect season for stripping it all down at once--preparing for a new & exciting next phase of life. As we move old stuff out of the way, there's room for newer, better things to come in.

Logan sees it this way, too. We had a field trip to National Air and Space's Steven F. Udvar Hazy Center last week, where he used his own allowance money to buy a die-cast model Tuskegee Airplane. He recognized the aircraft from his studies of WWII, and was thrilled to bring it home to show Dad. The next day he told me he wanted to give some things away in his room to make space for more of these types of planes! I love that! Give some things away to the homeless (people in need) so he can make space to set up runways of WWII flying aces. Heroes! Sweet.

Anyway, Logan & I have a lot more giving away to do (& that statement remains in the spirit of NaBloPoMo, even though I'm out of the DAILY blog business, 'cause, in the end, isn't that just replacing my Facebook addiction??).

I'll keep you informed! LOL

A Time for Everything

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

What does the worker gain from his toil? 10 I have seen the burden God has laid on men. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. 12 I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. 13 That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God. 14 I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-9

Giving Up More...

2009-03-11T22:45:00.009-04:00

Wednesday March 11th: full moon. Two days before Friday the 13th. Am I superstitious? Well, um, no...but Good Grief what a day we had!

My son hauled off and hit one of his dear friends today.

Then I pulled too tightly in front of one of my friend's parked car, scraping up its side deeply enough that you can read each of our cars to tell what color the other is.

Then my husband slammed his left index finger into the locked driver door of my car.

Oh, and then, on their way north on 95, my parents got stuck in a 2 1/2 hour traffic jam because a semi on the highway had caught fire from inside the cargo it was hauling...causing them to arrive far later than we had all planned, and changing our evening plans to pass Logan off to them for an overnight adventure.

I'd call that a high-impact day, wouldn't you?

Why did Logan hit his buddy? Well, his friend was trying to connect with Logan over politics, apparently, and said, "Obama is a stupid-head." Logan clearly understands the biblical stories of the Egyptian Pharoah killing Hebrew baby boys, from which Moses was spared; and King Herod doing the same, from which Jesus was spared. He knows that the reason President Obama did not have his father's or my vote is because Mr. Obama allows people to kill babies in America before they are born. This upsets my son, and he was very angry that we even watched the inauguration. My mom & I explained to Logan that regardless of our personal feelings about the election, our stance on the abortion issue, or our disappointment that a pro-choice President is in office, that we fully comprehend the historic significance of his election, and that we will always honor and respect whomever is elected United States President. So, when his pal called our President a name, Logan defended Obama by slamming his fist onto Z's back--hard!--and firmly saying, "That's enough of that!" I think he may have envisioned himself a judge, throwing down the gavel--only he threw it down on flesh and bones, for crying out loud!

Crying out loud is exactly what followed--for a good 5 or 10 minutes. Logan apologized, made sure he was forgiven, and a couple hours later the two were laughing it up as they wrote a song together off-the-cuff. The song was about butterflies! That's about as far from fisticuffs as a boy can get. I'd say they made up. But, are you kidding? HITTING his friend?? I was very unhappy--embarrassed, and disappointed.

And, here's the bizarre deal with my car accident--I hit my friend's car on the side (as I mentioned), got out to inspect the damage, apologize and discuss insurance, when the man who was pulling into the parking space behind her rear-ended her bumper! Double jeopardy.

About Tom's situation: he had already locked the car, was cautioning the children to watch for parking lot traffic at the grocery store, had his left hand on the door jam and used his right hand to push the door firmly closed. He could not pull his finger out without unlocking & opening the door, but Logan was freaking out because his dad was screaming in pain, and no stranger stopped to help, so Tom had to reach across his body to retrieve the keys from his pocket & open the door. His finger was flattened, and looked atrocious! X-rays an hour later showed that, miraculously, he had no broken bones! No stitches needed!

Now, I have to go to bed because I'm quitting more things--this day seemed like a message to me--SLOW DOWN EVEN MORE! It's 11--that makes it bedtime. One more thing to give up? National Blogging Monthly whatever that's called...

National Blog Posting Month is the epicenter of daily blogging! People who want to set the habit of blogging by doing it every day for a month, including weekends, can come here for moral support, inspiration, and the camaraderie that only marathon blogging can provide.

Somebody, give that boy some REAL friends!

2009-03-08T15:50:00.003-04:00

My son was playing on Friday with three neighborhood boys, his sister & a little girl. This is the same group (give or take a few) which he "socializes with" many times weekly. I have these children in my home for arts/crafts projects, cooking/baking, playing games, etc., and a couple of them have even attended church with us and come to homeschooling game days with us, so let's just say we know each other VERY well!

William, the 8-year-old, who is just too cool for his Air Jordans & reversible Nike shirt, has a little crush on me. I pretend I don't know, but his mother & I have discussed it (it's cutely obvious to the adult onlooker).

He was hanging out on my lawn Friday late afternoon, after I had called my kiddos in for dinner, and asked me, "Miss Lisa, when is Logan going to go to school?"

"I don't know, William. Maybe never."

"Yeah, but I mean, like, Middle School, right?"

"No. I don't think so. We'll see, but no...I don't think so."

"OK, but then, high school, right? I mean..."

"Well, William, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm not sure. I think Logan will stay with me for most of his schooling; maybe all."

Then, here's the quotation-keeper, guys, "Yeah, but I think it would be good for Logan to be around real kids."

I laughed out loud. If I'd been drinking Coke I would have been in pain--you know, the whole bubbles in the nose thing...?

"William! Aren't you a 'real kid?'"

"Yeah. But I mean..."

"And, don't we spend hours every week with you, and (__insert names of other kids here__)?"

"Yeah...but..." (he now has a little bit of a bashful grin on his face...)

"Well, William, what do you think we do from 8 to 4, while you are at school all day? Do you think we sit in this house & just wait for you guys to come home?"

"No..."

"And, so, when you came to Logan's birthday party last year, did you know all those kids who were there?" <--note: it was a way-too-big crowd...

"No..."

"Where do you think they came from? Those are real kids, kiddo."

I think he meant, um, maybe, "NORMAL!!"

(I won't get into how "abnormal" households are in this neighborhood & the rest of America these days...but then, again, what is "normal" any more?)

REAL KIDS!! I love it!

Giving Away the Train (and the car, and the book...)

2009-03-07T23:36:00.006-05:00

Local homeschooling friends requested donations for their son's hospital waiting room, which is sorely lacking in activities, toys, books & magazines for long-term family guests (particularly patients' siblings). Just two days previously Logan had expressed an interest in giving some of his items away to "the homeless," which is his clearest definition of people in need. We were able to gather a very large bag of items to give to families in crisis--a wonderful object lesson that is deepening my children's understanding of the world as they know it, and their responsibility, as citizens of that world, to contribute something significant.

Yesterday's Post had a piece about that word, "Responsibility," and President Obama's possible overuse of his favorite word. Can anyone overuse the word?

I understand the point--my parents used "Grateful" very frequently, sometimes giving me a sense that they thought me ungrateful. I suppose if "Responsible" is invoked too frequently, the American people may feel that they are being labeled as irresponsible by a Parent President.

However, I really jumped to my feet on February 24th when our 45th president said these words:
...dropping out of high school is no longer an option. It’s not just quitting on yourself, it’s quitting on your country – and this country needs and values the talents of every American.

He used variations of "responsible" 14 times in a 5,902-word speech. That's not even close to one percent, but I'd still call it frequent.

President Obama is a huge supporter of giving back to the local community, and in effect, to the nation. His wife spooned out pasta as a soup kitchen, Miriam's Kitchen, on Thursday! Sincerity & authenticity are words that come to mind. This is a family who walks their talk (although I cannot comprehend their support of abortion, but that's a whole other post...). Even Starbucks got on board this Fall with their "I'm In" campaign, when they decided to give beverages away to anyone who promised to give away just five hours of their time in the calendar year.

Are we such poor volunteers that we need a coffee incentive to give five annual hours away? Wow.

I hope that if we start them as little people, our children will be lifelong philanthropists. If our President & First Lady continue leading the way, literally getting their hands & feet firty, perhaps other little people will also get inspired.

Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

Matthew 25:37-40

Giving Away Time & Talents...

2009-03-06T23:56:00.016-05:00

PART I
Several weeks ago I had the fortune to attend a women's retreat. The late registration fee was hefty--out of our league--so I went "on scholarship," allowed to pay what I thought reasonable. If you have read any posts of my companion site, Maddening Mom Fusings, (AKA "MadMomFuse"), then you know that I am a woman who struggles to control my temper. I am a mom who makes daily intentional efforts to bury the long roots of my past, where anger and rage reside. I am the granddaughter of a woman who was not made of mothering mettle, knew it, and demonstrated thus to her children so that they clearly understood that aspect of her, as well. So, about five days before the women's retreat I spent some valuable moments on my knees at the altar, and cried hot, old, salty tears. As I entered the women's retreat weekend, I felt, in many ways, that my work had been done. Burying the bitter, gnarled root had never seemed to last for long; big roots have a way of resurfacing with time. This time, though, I worked in prayer to dig the weeds & deep growth out & throw everything very far away. Not wanting to pass along the generational curse to my children, I see this as some of my most important Life business.

After a soul-satisfying concert on the same Sunday afternoon, I felt lighter, and more peaceful, capable, and healed. What might the Lord have new to give me over the weekend? A friend of mine had encouraged me to attend, stating that she thought I might have something to bring to the other women--something to offer others. Little did either of us know...

As the 2 1/2 days passed I learned that my friend had strong instincts about my attendance which I did not understand in the moment. I went to Maryland expecting to get something, but found myself instantly called to give something, instead.

It started Friday night when I was introduced to someone new to me, a Deaf woman who had come on the retreat with our mutual friend who knows conversational sign, but is not an interpreter. Once it was revealed that I had once-upon-a-time graduated with honors from a sign language interpreting and Deaf studies program I was roped into the next day's duty. Apparently, there had been a little prayer team negotiating with God about my attendance (well, they prayed for an interpreter, anyway!), before anyone knew I was registered; before anyone knew that I knew ASL!

I soaked that evening, with other ladies I barely knew, and some I was about to know better, in the 110 degree waters of a hot tub. Four of us changed out of wet clothes into our jammies and spent a couple hours sharing our lives with each other in a cozy-chair circle before praying for one another well into the wee hours. Some prayer requests were pretty big; my needs seemed comparatively insignificant. I saw myself being called to be available for others.

In addition, someone shared my CD in a small group, so two tracks of my music ministered to almost a dozen women without my having been invited along as part of the music ministry team. I gave away a CD without collecting revenue and felt really good about that.

The next morning, and for the next 18 hours or so, I alternated with another unexpected sign language interpreter at the retreat in clarifying messages, interpreting songs, and bringing Christ's love to the guest who'd come anticipating that she'd "hear" from the Lord that weekend. With the help of our hands, she did. Because I allowed myself to be available, she was touched with a full understanding of the purpose of our time together, and received some specific messages that affected her deeply and personally.

I resented this "job" almost as soon as I was called to it, since it is difficult to hear for myself whatever I interpret for a client, but I quickly opened my heart to the Father's call for me to DO, and BE, and not try so hard to GET. I gave myself away on that weekend, and benefitted greatly as a result. The talk and presentation didn't seem to fit me, anyway, and so I know that I was on that retreat not to get away from anything, or even to glean any deep spiritual message for myself, necessarily, other than this: Willingly Serve.

PART II
My children and I were active in a homeschooling co-op in the Fall. I taught ASL to students from age 5 to 17 in a sort of one-room-schoolhouse. The little ones enjoyed learning a special manual code, while the oldest struggled to get more language training from the class. I found the setting very uneven and frustrating. Although I was given suggestions for how to differentiate the instruction to fit the kids, in perhaps two stage-separated groups, I struggled against the material, and its use of my time (in preparation & delivery). When the Spring came and our classroom environment necessarily changed, I could not adjust my concepts of expectations against the children's performance and come up happy, so my kids & I pulled out of co-op.

But, one student, (our oldest), was specifically in co-op to attain high school language credits. My leaving the group meant her losing out; I had kind of pulled the rug out from underneath her. At first I was upset that so much was expected from my instruction (though we had certainly discussed this throughout the Fall). I couldn't see how I would be able to certify her as ASL I-literate given the chaotic course I had offered. If anyone in that class retained ten signs, I am delighted. But, I am dealing with a self-motivated high-schooler already passing college-level courses. I underestimated my ability to finish her requirements, and her ability to work hard for them.

So, I decided, given what had happened at the retreat, that I could give a little more of my time away. The gal's mom agreed to pick up food & drink for me each time we met, and we set up times to get together, review Fall's work, and assess where to go next. By letting go of my own expectation of my time, skills and abilities, and embracing an opportunity to help someone, as I feel called, I think we'll have a good several weeks together getting her ready for college.

Sometimes you just have to give it away for free (or close to it!). In both of these instances, I feel strongly that the need and my abilities met on a just plane.

Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
Matthew 10:39 (c) New International Version

I cannot help but consider this story, about withholding gifts from others...
Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. With his wife's full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles' feet.
Then Peter said, "Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit and have kept for yourself some of the money you received for the land? Didn't it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn't the money at your disposal? What made you think of doing such a thing? You have not lied to men but to God."
Acts 5:1-4 (c) NIV

p.s. This was written very late at night, and in rereading it I can see glaring errors in verb tenses...in fact, they're pretty atrocious. Given my recent post on grammar, they are, in fact, humbling & even a bit shameful, eh? But I recently heard from a friend that he's purposely choosing the imperfect in his life to fight against his perfectionist tendencies. I think I'll blog about that tomorrow night--it's such an awesome topic!

Give Away Pizza!

2009-03-05T21:12:00.009-05:00

Logan's neighbor buddies rode bikes with him till the sun almost set, and then I called Logan in. He rarely comes obediently with a, "Yes, Ma'am," but sulks and lumbers and whines. Tonight, as I waved goodbye and watched our friends walk away, I asked myself why I was insisting on secluding my family for dinner. Tom wouldn't be home till late, so why not invite the neighbors to join us? I was planning on making homemade pizza, and knew they'd enjoy that--they have worked at our stove with us many times before, and are always receptive & appreciative, so why did I hesitate?

Sometimes I convince myself I am more tired than I really am just because the task before me is more than I want to take on, or more than I perceive I'm ready/available to manage. I think it's really laziness.

The kids & I had just trudged home from a glorious romp through the wet, wooded paths behind our community. We wore our bulky boots, and left imprints of our travels behind in either snow or mud for about an hour. The chilled air refreshed, while the lowering sun warmed our backs. Teagan fell into mucky puddles twice, but wanted to keep going. She was filthy. Logan chose solo walks ahead of Teagan and me, and I was delighted at his comfort with that independence. I didn't reel him back to my side. Instead, I carried on a little conversation with my daughter as we held each other's gloved hands: priceless.

When we got back to the house my idea was hot drinks, kids in a sudsy bath and peace in the house. When Logan asked to ride his bike with his friends, I gave him a 30 minutes timer.

Inviting two more kids inside, after I'd just stripped Teagan down & changed her clothes? Didn't fit my expectations for the evening's activities.

It took me about five minutes to throw out the vision of bubbles and tea, and welcome a little chaos. Each child wore one of our six aprons (I didn't realize we owned so many until I needed five, and found them!), washed hands, rolled up sleeves and made dough from scratch. Liseth spread tomato sauce, Logan added olives; Teagan grated cheese, William spread it. Twenty-five minutes later eight slices of pizza were served to a set table. I felt like I'd witnessed the Little Red Hen's best ending.

"How's the pizza, guys?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's really good," said William, who chose broccoli and tomato toppings, but no black olives.

"Well, you know what makes it so great?" I baited.

"No, what?"

"YOU MADE IT!"

Everyone grinned.

Spending time with them was so much better than running another couple loads of laundry while the kids bathed. I'm glad I'm flexible. I'm glad we have great friends just across the street. I'm glad we had plenty in the fridge for fresh, delicious, homemade pizza! Let the laundry wait.

To love (God) with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.
Mark 12:33 (New International Version)

Give me a G, "G!" Give me an R, "R!"

2009-03-04T20:11:00.004-05:00

Today is National Grammar Day! I think my grammar snobbery began in infancy. My parents and grandparents corrected my sister and me frequently, until we spoke with an educated flair. Then I was given Strunk and White as a Welcome to High School gift (from my stepdad), and I spun further into perfectionist tendencies.

Over the past year a friend of mine (journalism major) has been playing an email grammar game with me: she sends me errors she's found in public, and I send her my own finds. While there is no official point system, the error's placement or egregiousness warrants certain self-assigned points. Mary is very generous with her own tally, if you ask me, but also adept at discovering the missing articles, commas and words everywhere she looks. This post is a challenge to her. Mary, correct this blog!

What upsets us both is that electronic media are treated with less scrutiny than printed. While newspaper & magazine subscriptions plummet, young people are raised reading materials online that are...well...pretty shabby (heck, they're just plain cr*p)! I find this especially frustrating in yahoo groups, where email programs can be set to spellcheck & grammar check every outgoing message. A double-click skips spellcheck, so sometimes when I'm in a rush I'll spill some mistakes. Shame on me. Would I speak to you with marbles in my mouth? Should my fingers be allowed to mumble?

I sound awfully uptight, don't I? But I insist--things that blow right by us today would have turned the ears of our grandparents red. This I/me virus that is infecting the X & Y generations is so annoying. People overuse "I" for fear of missing its proper application. Look--let's break it down:

This dress doesn't look very good on Sarah or me.
This dress doesn't look good on Sarah. This dress doesn't look good on me.
Would you really say, if talking only about yourself, "This dress doesn't look good on I?" Same rule applies when talking about yourself with others.

And, when listing a group of people never list yourself first!
Me, Anthony, Jeremy and Jen went bowling last night.
Uh, no...."Me" didn't go bowling; "I" did. As with walking through a door, or eating a meal--wait for others. List yourself last.

Anthony, Jeremy, Jen & I went bowling last night.

Worse is "Me and her went out last night." Again, break the sentence apart: "I went out last night;" "She went out last night," therefore, "She and I went out last night."

Where is my fabulous high school English teacher for the rest of America?

And you wonder why I homeschool...

Ok, enough corrective ramblings for America. I'll leave that up to Grammar Girl or the Grammar Curmudgeon.

We are such Eats, Shoots & Leaves snobs!

Oooh! And, while you're thinking about grammar, I recommend you check out this "really fun" site!

Lastly, I am now officially a member of SPOGG (The Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar). Won't you join me?

You are now subscribed to the SPOGG mailing list, which will send periodic e-mails about grammar, usage and outrages to your inbox. As a member of SPOGG, you can sleep easier at night knowing you're doing your part to rid the world of bad grammar. Fight on, brothers and sisters of SPOGG!

Give me grace?

2009-03-04T10:21:00.003-05:00

Um, I didn't post for NaBloPoMo yesterday! I fell asleep reading to the kids, instead!

The funny "tails" of Geronimo Stilton kept us in stitches till we crashed.

More tonight...

Give it a little time...but not THAT much!

2009-03-02T23:59:00.002-05:00

Among all the newlywed gifts I unwrapped nearly 14 years ago was a small, brown, hardcover journal, illustrated with a page-by-page animation of a chef baking a 20' tall cake. The drawings are sweet & humorous, but even funnier are the handwritten notes I've kept of my "Kitchen Disasters" through the years.

Tonight was another.

When you try to cook a pie on the grill (Thanksgiving, 2005)...well, that's a "Kitchen Disaster."

I was SO excited, last night, to put my $13 organic pork roast (sale! kaching!) on top of carrots and pears in the slow cooker, sprinkle fresh rosemary & garlic on top, douse it in apple juice, and set it on low for 11 hours.

You read that right--ELEVEN hours. I thought, "That's one less than 12--easy to remember. It's 6 o'clock now, so...5 o'clock!"

You wouldn't BELIEVE how wonderful the house smelled when we woke up!

But it was at 5 o'clock POST meridian when I realized I'd been working on a 23-hour plan, NOT an 11-hour plan! What a dolt! I'd thought ALL DAY that we'd be eating tender meat just in time for dinner...24-hours, minus one!!

I'm just grateful that pork was on one amazing sale, and that carrots & pears aren't all-too expensive, because the entire brown, overcooked, dry, dry, dry mass of food went directly into the garbage.

Believe me, I have reset the clock in my brain, and will NOT repeat THAT mistake. Now, if only organic pork would go on sale again...

*******************************************************
FOR THE RECORD:
Kitchen Disaster #1: 082795
First time to cook in our newlywed life: tri-colored William & Sonoma fusili (a wedding gift) with sauce created from too many substituted ingredients (basil, oregano & garlic for spinach? What!?). "Just plain YUK! We ordered pizza."

Kitchen Disaster #2 083195
Joy of Cooking, p. 171, "Gazpacho." "Yuck. Looked like something regurgitated, and tasted very not good. Hmmm. Try, try again." I remember this all-too well. It was a texture thing--really gross.

Kitchen Disaster #3 041496 Easter Sunday
Sundays at Moosewood Cookbook (grilled veggies; a favorite!)
20 minutes @ 500 degrees (crisp & delicious), then brought them to Mom's & put in oven to keep warm while we waited for company & meal to be completed. "However, the oven I stuck them in was not 'warm;' it was at 400! We did not eat immediately and by the time our company arrived (late) my veggies had been doubly cooked...wow were they overcooked! I've never had squishier asparagus." Oh, that guest (guy) was ALWAYS running late...

Kitchen Disaster #4 062198 Poached Salmon recipe from Mom
"Simmering one hour actually was more like a one-hour boil & all the liquid was GONE when I opened the lid!!" Talk about dry...that was a bigger waste than tonight's pork...

Kitchen Disaster #5 Easter 1999 @ Mom's: Coconut Cream Pie
"I cooked it in TWO pie tins (they were stuck together). Pre-made crusts. Alright, but not great: burned a bit. More like coconut cream pudding."

Kitchen Disaster #6 112403 (Monday before Thanksgiving)
"Holy Cow~the ULTIMATE KITCHEN DISASTER!
Well, here I am again, journaling an egregious error over the stove. This one actually required a fire extinguisher & a vacuum cleaner to clean up half of the mess!" Burnt Almonds...oh, the details are too sad to reiterate here...MORAL: always read an ENTIRE recipe & have all the PROPER tools (including the right SIZES of pots, pans, etc.). Oh, and it's a WISE idea to have an extinguisher in the kitchen...

Kitchen Disaster #7 Rib-Rub, Grilled 071605
"This time I can happily say I was not the one at fault. Tom's been taking on a lot more of the cooking, is enjoying doing it, and does a great job. But Saturday was an admitted disaster. Tom spent hours making the ribs...but the meat was so overly seasoned (quite salty! Yikes) & over cooked that we barely got anything edible of it at all." The corn was also over-seasoned. We were a little excited about our new grill & its partner cookbooks... "It was a real dental floss nightmare all around, but Shadow was happy with rib bones!"

Kitchen Disaster #8 Thanksgiving 2005
Somehow, I'm missing the notes from the Thanksgiving with the turkey on the grill (which wouldn't cook, b/c it was too big, and we couldn't keep the grill TOP down...), and our attempt at baking pie ON THE GRILL! I guess that was was priceless enough to stick in my memory. OH! And the infusing needle that backed up with spices, and then finally sprayed spiced liquid all over the kitchen with one more stubborn squeeze!! Whaa haa haa! Yeah, there are notes about that somewhere else. I think they're in Logan's baby book. ;-)

Kitchen Disaster #9 Tonight 030209, as outlined above.

Hey! In total, that's not too bad for 13+ years of cooking/baking, eh? ;-)

Giving up her spirit...

2009-03-01T01:35:00.007-05:00

The eldest sister of my friends, Jenny & Karen, passed away on February 20th. Susie was enough older than I so that I always knew her as their older sister. She was vivacious. She was far too young to die. She was mother to a boy my own boy's age, and one the age she was when I met her. It is for these reasons that I keep finding myself crying at the slightest mention of the goodness of life this week. I have been hit with sorrow so many times since the 18th, when I heard the news that she was doing so poorly that they were releasing her from the hospital with home health aids and pain-preventative morphine.

I am having one of those moments right now, in fact. I am listening to the five online songs posted at Joshua Radin's site, and finding myself melting in sorrow. Susie, as I knew her, was genuine, gentle, and sweet, while also ambitious. She was feminine and beautiful! Her smile was engaging.

Joshua's music has a tenderness that is knocking my soul about in rough waters tonight.

No Envy, No Fear
~Joshua Radin (c)

some are reaching; few are there
wandering from a hero's chair
some are scared to fly so high
well, this is how we have to try

have no envy and no fear
have no envy; no fear

brother, brother we all see
you're hiding out so painfully
see yourself come out to play
a lover's rain will wash away

your envy and your fear
so have no envy; no fear

when your sister turns to leave
only when she's most in need
take away the cause of pain
by showing her we're all the same.

have no envy and no fear
have no envy and no fear

and every day we try to find
we search our hearts and our minds
the place we used to call our home
can't be found when we're alone

so have no envy; no fear
have no envy and no fear

Mandolin, sing our sorrows!

Yes, I mourn for Susie's boys, left without their mom, at such a young age. I cry for her sisters, whom I adore, now looking forward without their strong oldest sister. I weep for her parents, who are self-sacrificing, and love others with loyalty I rarely find in people. I hurt for her husband, who could never have imagined when marrying this ball of energy, that she would proceed him to the grave (especially so soon!). I also cry for my family, who has been knit to Susie's family all of my life. This is not the first loss of my life, nor even the closest, but it is hitting me in an especially tender way. Though Susie was not one of my most intimate friends, she was like a member of my family, and I am carrying her memory in my mind so intensely. Her petite frame, her blond hair, the features of her father and mother. May the Lord carry her family, and the rest of us who knew and loved her, this week and in the months to come...

The other reason I am carrying this heavily now, is that others in my life are also fighting against hell's illness: Cancer. All I could do about it today was give a gift to the Susan G. Komen foundation in Susie's name...and continue to pray for another Susan in my life who is struggling against stage IV of this evil invasion (one variety of the "C" illness)...and my uncle...and our little friend in Arizona...and another in Florida...

As we turn our calendar to March, I also remember Mary-Claire, who, at age 4, lost the battle, too, just a year ago (3/20/08).

Damnable cancer. You do not have the best of any of us, as heaven brings healing and release from the burdens of these imperfect bodies!!

From Susie's funeral mass:

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
The Coming of the Lord
Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.

Giving It Up for Lent

2009-02-28T21:51:00.008-05:00

Several days ago I vowed to leave Facebook throughout the days of Lent. Ash Wednesday came and went without an ache from me, as I filled the day with friends and their children's interests and occupations. I traveled on Thursday, embraced my husband on his return on Friday, had a 3-hour optometry appointment today (yawn...!), and am eager for a worshipful tomorrow. This is only my official 4th official day away from Facebook, so it's too early to say giving it up has been easy. We'll see how the days drag on.

I was interviewed for The Wall Street Journal about this lenten fast--ironic, when you consider that Christ advised his followers to NOT proclaim the difficulties of their fasts for the world to see! What do I do? Talk to a reporter about it. Is there any better way to brag about fasting? Sheesh.

Matthew 6: 16-18
When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full.
But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen;
and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

Fasting from Facebook--well, it's pretty well known by all of my "friends" that I'm fasting...am I not defeating the purpose of the fast by proclaiming it?

Learning. Growing. Next year I'll give something up without giving everyone the news!

Given a Scare!

2009-02-28T00:29:00.006-05:00

I was taking a hot bath tonight--sauna hot--but as I shaved my legs I heard knocking coming from underneath the tub. The washing machine was running, so I thought, at first, that there might be water draining through pipes running under the tub. When I tapped my razor on the tub, though, something knocked back...and it sounded intentional. I tapped three times, tap, tap, tap, and then I heard this triplet pattern followed by a quarter note, like a drum corps cadence.

Frankly, I was starting to freak out a bit, so I called Tom in--asked him to turn off the washer and listen with me. He heard the knocking, too, but looked at me blandly and scoffed at it being anything to concern myself about. I cannot believe that these next words escaped my lip in any seriousness, but I said to him, "What if someone's in trouble? What if someone needs help?"

"Like who?," Tom wanted to know.

"Maybe a neighbor? Maybe someone's knocking on the plumbing from somewhere?," I petitioned.

Or, could it be a haunting of some sort? (What fantastic concepts I had rolling around in my noggin!) I could not determine how this knock, knock, knock sound was resonating so loudly in my very personal space!

Once the washing machine was turned off I tapped the tub again, and the water around me reflected my movement and sound as I heard the Poe-esque repeat, like a scene from The Tell Tale Heart...then I turned to look in the tub, and there it was! Floating behind me, bobbing up and down to hit the bottom of the tub...my shampoo bottle, 3/4 full. As I moved water in the tub, the waves moved the bottle!

Tom rose, amused at my irrational fear, and I sunk a bit deeper into the bubble bath. How that cleaner gave me a scare!

Given the Challenge (March with NaBloPoMo)

2009-02-27T19:39:00.002-05:00

A message to all members of NaBloPoMo <--National Blog Posting Month

The theme for March blogging is GIVING (UP). If you choose to blog on the theme, you can write about what you give to your friends, your job, your world, or yourself every day. That "up" in parentheses gives you the option to also write about things you're throwing out, quitting, recycling, or eliminating from your life right now.

If you'd like to give the daily blogging thing a shot this month and want to be on the March blogroll, please visit http://nablopomo.ning.com/blogrolls/march-2009-blogroll and follow the instructions at the top of the page.

Monthly badges are here http://nablopomo.ning.com/htmlbadges/march-2009-html-badges . If you've created your own badge for others to use, remember to leave a comment and a link back to it at the bottom of the badges page.

Thanks and happy blogging!

Visit NaBloPoMo at: http://nablopomo.ning.com

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To control which emails you receive on NaBloPoMo, go to:
http://nablopomo.ning.com/profiles/profile/emailSettings

So I don't forget it...

2009-02-04T21:43:00.005-05:00

...Logan, in his artfully poetic way, just summed up his tummy bug best with,

"I need to get some electrons in my body to get this hurricane through here."

He meant electrolytes, as I'd just given him a natural Gatorade-type beverage to sip.

"Hurricane" is a good description of what's happened in his, Tom's, Teagan's & my tummies over the past 72 hours! And, when the neighborhood kids dropped by after school today for warm shelter until someone arrived at their house, I used that word as an apology. Leave two unsupervised children for a few hours while Mommy & Daddy try to sleep off the cruds, and yep, it looks like a hurricane hit.

The kids are sleeping now. Hope tomorrow is clear skies and sunshine.

Why I March on DC Today (L'Chaim!)

2009-01-22T08:48:00.003-05:00

In Obama's Own Words

"The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness....

...Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom...

...Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

...Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

...Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

...We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

...To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West - know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy.

...To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

...For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

...What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

...Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations."

God Save America.

Gettin' the lead out.

2009-01-07T23:01:00.003-05:00

You may be receiving the forwards, now: toy manufacturers in danger of losing their businesses in America! Google it, and I'm sorry to say, you'll find this one TRUE (Snopes doesn't seem to have covered it, yet).

In 2007 I returned two children's mugs to Starbucks and never got my money back--and I only received ONE giftcard for my troubles ($5). I also returned 8 Thomas The Train components, and received shiny new replacements that had my son grinning ear-to-ear. I threw away cheap toys we'd received as hand-me-downs when I found them listed on recall lists. I am not untouched by the lead pipe cinch that toys in America are in trouble!

You want to know what we got to hang on to? A gorgeous pull-string bee handmade in the Blue Ridge hills of Kentucky (as his wheels turn, so do his wings) & a jaw-dropping crocodile by the same inventive chap; an all-wooden dollhouse, and stable, and a lot of train tracks. None of them with a lick of paint--therefore, no lead! We LOVE wooden toys, and we love little boutique children's shops where they are made & sold. We buy cool German toys online, and gladly pay the shipping fees to hold in our hands these objects d'art! Tactile. Hefty. Lasting. Heirlooms.

In a far-too-far-reaching attempt to safeguard the toys American children play with, American lawmakers are missing the point! In just one month I will be among thousands (millions?) or American moms frustrated to find the search for lasting non-plastic toys far more difficult.

So I do not plagiarize, I offer you this site for the facts. The trigger point is this:

The new law (the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act, or CPSIA, passed in August 2008) mandates third-party testing and certification for all toys and requires toy makers to permanently label each toy with a date and batch number. For a small business owner, the third-party testing issue is an asinine requirement. My paintless bee doesn't contain dangerous chemicals! How can this man, who likely works out of a workshop on his personal property, afford third-party testing at $4000/toy? If he DOES NOT TEST, he CANNOT SELL! The adorable arts & crafts shows that color the fabric of American summertimes will forever change with this law!

Because this concerns & upsets me, I am asking you to please consider looking into this issue, yourself. Oh, sure, there will still be plenty of playthings at Toys-R-Us for the kiddos, but my family doesn't shop there. We say pooh pooh to Walmart! We like our pink & green in fabrics, not plastic dollhouses...

This is directly affecting people I spend time with--fellow homeschoolers who make a living creating things with their hands. Can you help out? Check out the link!! Write to your politicians to request changes that consider the non-corporation toymakers!

"The CPSIA simply forgot to exclude the class of children's goods that have earned and kept the public's trust: Toys, clothes, and accessories made in the US, Canada, and Europe. The result, unless the law is modified, is that handmade children's products will no longer be legal in the US."

Thanks!

Deep Breath. It's 2009.

2009-01-07T22:21:00.007-05:00

My blogging has slowed to a crawl. Facebook addiction took over my nighttime hours, and I just lost track of the writer in me for a fairly long time. I'd consider these pages, and wonder what I could possibly add to the daily online dialogue. I kept coming up blank. Little twittery status updates took over. Has my life merely become a series of daily headlines, instead of the prose I once experienced?

Perhaps Yes.

We met with some lifetime friends over New Year's week--there was all sorts of child-centric chatter, and then I realized, I have lost my purposeful parenting plan! In the middle of scooping another handful of nuts into my mouth and trying not to choke over a joke, it hit me! I rise in the morning tired, feel defeated for one or two critical moments in the day, and go to sleep too late, exhausted, and not feeling fulfilled. This is NOT good.

Where have I fallen astray? I think it is with unmet hopes. Many of these are private, but they do loom alongside me as I go about my business. I fold another load of laundry I swear I just folded yesterday, and try to track down all 12 of our Tupperware kids' cups once again, then I look in the mirror and wonder, Where did I go?

Facebook. LOL.

On one hand, I have been overwhelmingly inebriated at finding the people who have so deeply affected & shaped my existence: my first babysitter & her family; my youth group Bible Study leaders in two states; girlfriends who moved away just when we'd shared all of our secrets, boyfriends about whom those secrets were told! Since I moved away so many times in my life (the big ones being in '79, '80, '83, '87, '89, twice in '91, '00, '06), reconnecting with the people I knew in this place or that has been miraculous! Look where technology has taken us! I attended three elementary schools, two middle schools, two high schools and too many churches & colleges to count. In bygone years I would just consider my old friends as lost to the moves. But then, in bygone years, I would likely not have moved so frequently, nor so far away! From Michigan to Virginia back to Michigan. From there to Texas, Connecticut and Pennsylvania. On to North Carolina, back to Connecticut, and then to two opposite sides of Virginia (again)! Good grief. Three hundred "friends" later on Facebook, and those parties I had in my dreams for years are starting to come together; all of the people I've known throughout my life are dialoging on my "wall." It's insanely addicting!

How about these words by this-year's-celebrated president?
"How miserable things seem to be arranged in this world. If we have no friends, we have no pleasure; and if we have them, we are sure to lose them and be doubly pained by the loss." ~Abraham Lincoln in a letter to Joshua Speed, February 25, 1842

Yes! So, when you can suddenly "find" them all again...what joy!

Besides connecting me to the peopleof my past, this social networking has also connected me to the people I have been in my past. The popular one (once upon a time...). The newbie & outcast. The punk. The geek. The vocalist. The songwriter. The pageant girl. The marketer. The writer. The event planner. How do I reconcile all of these personalities into the one person I am now? With my 20th high school reunion just 8 months away, I wonder, WHO will be attending that event? Which one of ME?

People who have met me in the past two years know such a very small portion of who I am, and I don't know when it is appropriate to reveal the other angles--if ever. My new friends know me as active in my community, a converted Anglican, and a homeschooler. Um...that's about it. They don't know how actively involved in politics I once was. They don't know my past ambitions, or my current ones. They don't know me as a leader in ministry.

Don't you contemplate how others see you? I think I have projected myself as one who talks too much about things that matter too little. What does 2009 mean for me and for this blog? What does it mean for me as a mom, wife, co-ed, colleague, etc.?

These are the questions we all ask in a New Year, right? Am I too heavy? Am I too irritable? Am I too much of a tightwad, or too big of a spender? Do I have addictions I need to kick? We look in our respective mirrors and ask,

Am I authentically that Self I want to be every day?

I really only had one NYE resolution. I slipped a ring onto my right hand & made a covenant to my family to be more patient and less short-tempered. Truly, when my obituary is written some 50 years from now (God-willing!), I don't care if anyone knows about what I DID. Let people know who I AM by how I lived with my family. Ah, good ole St. Francis sum this up better than I:

"Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen."

And, Happy Belated New Year.

Quilting

2008-12-29T02:00:00.000-05:00

I lived with Arlene then
Second floor corner
Rediscovering myself after loss

I thought I could patch together memories
From the 80's
For my parents to keep

I saved fabrics
From The Salvation Army bags
Measured a template square

Cutting was easy
Designing was a joy
Sewing was relaxing

I, the taker-on of too-large projects
Worked towards August
Towards their anniversary #10

When summer came
We all met at the beach--
I, with my new love and this patchwork--incomplete

As their 25th year was celebrated
I imagined laying the completed project
Across the guest bed

Calling Mom into the room
With some excuse
And pretending I didn't know it was there

But I took on a different quilt, instead
A photographic quilt
Bound by Apple experts

That stitching-together of memories
Was well-received
And enjoyed by everyone at their party

Now, Christmas is finally here
And I worked from August to December
To finally become a person who completes things

...Fifteen years in the making, and it's DONE!

What's the opposite of expanding?

2008-12-19T16:18:00.006-05:00

My grandparents had two children.
Then only my mother had children. Two.
Then only I have had children. Two!

My husband's grandparents also had two children.
Three grandchildren came from those two babies.
Four great grandchildren from just my husband and his sister...

We aren't really EXPANDING, here, are we? We aren't even meeting the national average!

Feeling especially small at the holidays, when I imagine what it must be like to be a part of my great aunt's family--with her four children and her TWELVE grandchildren, and her ten great grandchildren (with more expected in '09). It feels warm, and full of laughter, when I think of all those kids interacting with each other through their lives!

I've always wanted a BIG family. I am so happy to see so many of my friends' families growing to 3, 4, 5 & 6 children. I love the idea of passing on our values and faith through our children. I will encourage my kids to marry their sweethearts and be fruitful. MULTIPLY!!

;-)

In the meantime, I am delighted with the joyful way my two have been playing lately. They genuinely enjoy each other's presence, and feed off of each other's creative minds! I may be frustrated with them at least once a day, but in truth, they are more precious to me than ANYTHING!

Merry Christmas to all my Big Family friends! We rejoice with you!! And, I will kiss my babes on the head tonight, being GRATEFUL for the family with which we've been blessed.

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

2008-12-04T18:45:00.003-05:00

MyHeritage: Celebrity Collage - Lost relatives - Roots

I used to look like Amanda Peet!

2008-12-04T18:43:00.001-05:00

MyHeritage: Celebrity Morph - Genealogical research - Family search