Me, I am my kids' teacher

Lydia and I just finished another book that found its place in our Top Five. Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink written in 1935. A fantastic book about a little pioneer girl growing up in Wisconsin during the Civil War (we just can't seem to get away from that era). Caddie is a tomboy and it vexes her mother very much that Caddie doesn't seek to do lady things like make quilts and cook jam, preferring to romp in the woods with her brothers or sneak off to nearby Indian camps. Sounds a little like someone we know.

Caddie got into a bit of trouble. She pulled a prank on her prissy cousin from Boston and got switched good by her mother and sent to bed. After tossing on her bed all day (without supper of course), her dad came to talk to her. And here is a speech every Father should give his daughter ... I love it so much that I am RETYPING it!

"... Perhaps Mother was a little hasty today, Caddie. She really loves you very much, and, you see, she expects more of you than she would of someone she didn't care about. It's a strange thing, but somehow we expect more of girls than of boys. It is the sisters and wives and mothers, you know, who keep the world sweet and beautiful. What a rough world it would be if there were only men and boys in it, doing things in their rough way! A woman's task is to teach them gentleness and courtesy and love and kindness. It's a big task, too, harder than cutting trees or building mills or damming rivers. It takes nerve and courage and patience, but good women have those things. They have them just as much as the men who build bridges and carve roads through the wilderness. A woman's work is something fine and noble to grow up to, and it is just as important as a man's. ... I don't want you to be the silly, affected person with fine clothes and manners, whom folks sometimes call a lady. NO, that is not what I want for you, my little girl. I want you to be a woman with a wise and understanding heart, healthy in body and honest in mind. Do you think you would like to be growing into that woman now?"

Love Caddie. Love her daddy.

Posted in: on Wednesday, February 27, 2008 at at 5:57 PM 1 comments  

Here's a video testimony featuring Stan's brother, Scott. We taped this to use at church to feature the recovery program at Cross & Crown Mission. He did great. There's so much more to his story than our five minutes would allow but hopefully this gets his message across ... "God is my sponsor!" It's an incredible journey of recovery.

Posted in: on Tuesday, February 26, 2008 at at 10:49 AM 1 comments  

I have an ode to Grant coming. He's been SIX for a whole week, and we've had a pretty wild week with illness, projects and such.

But just a glimpse of our little dude.
In a brunette household, Grant is the golden child. Blond blond. And hair that needs a haircut, but it's pretty wild and cute right now.

He wandered through the room yesterday with his long blonde hair, Michigan State hoodie and ripped jeans singing ...

"little red corvette."

It was a little mom moment. Who is this kid?

And the mom is glad he doesn't know the rest of the words to the song. And that always leads me wondering whether I "heard" the words to the song as I sang along on the radio when I was also SIX ... plus ten.

Posted in: on Thursday, February 21, 2008 at at 11:57 AM 1 comments  

Apparently we are the only ones out there who do not watch LOST, but we do watch Gone Country.

Maureen McCormack, Carnie Wilson, Bobby Brown, Dee Snider (Twisted Sister), Julio Iglesias, Jr., an American Idol girl, and a rapper are in Nashville, competing to become a country music star.

Hilarious and bizarre. I get teary every episode, right along with Marcia.

Posted in: on Friday, February 15, 2008 at at 10:45 PM 0 comments  

One of Grant's favorite radio stations is 101.9, The Twister. Yes, it's country. Might as well admit it.

The point is, that is what his temperature registered before I quit holding the digi thermometer under his armpit. He didn't want to hold it in his mouth and the other option is not an option.

Pit checking also cuts down on germ spreading perhaps, since Giles is down with it. And I'm spending lots of time at the sink scrubbing temperature taking devices between uses. They are following their father who was down with the ague last week.

One of our favorite books we've read together is Summer of the Monkeys by Wilson Rawls. It's an excellent living book (the movie just doesn't compare.) We loved it, and if you're from Oklahoma, the book is even more special because it's setting is in the north eastern part of our state.

Anyway, the main character's sister, Daisy, loves to be a nurse! So anytime her brother had the slightest ailment, she would don her Red Cross nurse uniform and start taking "care" of him which her brother loathed entirely.

My mom sewed Lydia a Florence Nightengale costume and she is about to put it on. It's she and I against the ague today.

Grant is a pretty good patient so far. And gratefully, he doesn't have much experience as a patient. What a hearty and healthy kid. What a blessing!

I haven't checked Giles' temp yet, but I think we're double in for it. We have beds made on the loveseat and couch, with bedside tables for tissues, snacks, juice, tea and water.

Maybe we'll be able to finish our current excellent book today. Shades of Gray by Carolyn Reeder. It's historical fiction set in Virginia right after the Civil War. It's a fantastic book about respect, honor, courage, principles and family.

Posted in: on Monday, February 11, 2008 at at 9:25 AM 0 comments  

Last Sunday night at Cross & Crown, Paul tried something a little different for worship time. It was Superbowl night, so when I got there the game was on, but the crowd was a little thinner than usual and not many were watching it anyway. Eventually the TV went off and he had us move our chairs into a big circle and Paul sort of opened the floor to let people speak their hearts. I sat between a non-English speaking mom who is still grieving the loss of her stillborn baby, and a homeless man who will NEVER let me take his picture, although I tease him about it every week. Next to him was one of the youth group teens who's pregnant and was kicked out of her house because of it. On around the circle was "R". No one had seen him for a few days. Turns out he spent ten days in jail. He got out and then got beat up. He was banged up on Sunday night and drunk, but he was there.

I should have written about all this last Sunday when it was still fresh on my mind, but I hoped the professionals might post about it and would do it better. I guess it really doesn't matter if there's duplication anyway.


One man wanted to confess a sin and ask for prayers. He didn't give many details, but later I talked to him a little bit, and found out that his teenage daughter was there and she won't have anything to do with him. He was seeking her forgiveness ... not sure exactly when their relationship deteriorated ... it could have been when he went to prison (he's been out for a few months), or when she caught him smoking crack the other day. He also told me about his 12-year-old son who faces five felony charges. He said he wants to do right by his family, find a decent job (with his criminal record) and get back on his feet.

Then John shared. He's who we call John the Baptist because he lives in the wilderness of the streets (on purpose) and brings people to Cross & Crown. I love this guy. There's so much of his story I do not know, but little by little I am getting a better picture of his life. The other day, when he was helping me decorate the church for a wedding, he said he wishes the guys in Phoenix could see him playing with flowers. He said his nickname used to be something like "Smoke and Bones" because he was always smokin' dope and beating up people.

Anyway, on Sunday night he talked about Jesus and choices. He shared that not long ago he had been sucked into sorrow. Sad and depressed all of the time. He said that you can become addicted to the sorrow and almost relish in it. But instead, he chooses JOY.

John doesn't drive. He doesn't have a home. His possessions are few. He has lots of aches (from his smoke and bones days). He still gets in a few brawls. And the other day, he mentioned losing a daughter and I'm thinking that might have led to his entrance to street living back in the mid-80s. I don't see him every day like most of the staff does, but every time I see him, I know I'll get a bear hug and a story about his mom, his past or his friends. He will also take time to talk to all my kids and bless them.

I don't have a great ending point to tie this all together. As I just read back through my rambling, it occurred to me that I just typed away the phrases about a CHILD facing felonies, a crack addict trying to find his way, a beat up drunk man who calls one of the staff ladies his Mom.

It was an awesome time of worship and perspective. I'm grateful for this community of real people ... and for the reminder to choose JOY and believe in HOPE. Thanks God.

Posted in: on Friday, February 08, 2008 at at 9:12 AM 0 comments  

who wanted pictures!



Lydia and I had some fun with our photo booth camera. She helped pick my outfit. A little number we got at the thrift store for her (our?) dress up bin. I imagine it was a mother of the bride dress, or maybe the girls from ABBA wore it?
Here's another photo booth example. The kids have had a blast the last few days taking these shots and playing with the different feature like "fisheye," "dent" and "swirl" ...



And now from the 1970s ...




Talk about dent and swirl!

Posted in: on Friday, February 01, 2008 at at 8:44 AM 4 comments  

Comments from my loving family after they saw me with my new haircut:


Lydia: "It looks like you've lived in the jungle for 48 years."

Giles: "It looks like a pile of "c*&%." (I so wish he got his crude mouth from his father). This did not either offend me or cause tears. And that delights me for there have been numerous tears shed over my coif during my lifetime. I'm growing up! And I appreciate my son's honesty.

I also appreciate his father's honesty. When he came home today, I sprang out from around the corner.

Stan: "I love it!"

Isn't he just awesome? He meant it too, I could tell.

Then he said ...

"Nice shag!"

I had been trying to put my finger on it all day. I knew it was a haircut of yore. But I couldn't quite remember.

It is a shag! Oh dear! Are shags in? I'm not sure.

I told Stan that I remember having a shag at some point. He commented that no one has had shags since Carol Brady. Ouch. But I finally figured out that I think I had a shag version in the mid-90s.

I have one in the mid-00s too.

I thought I was getting my "every six months whether I need it or not" trim that typically involves thinning out the mane and leaving me with the pony tail option.

I am between stylists. With two haircuts a year, I guess I can take some blame for my last fave girl switching shops without a forwarding number! But I just needed a thin and shape, so I headed to a no appointment needed quickie place with the kids were at PE today.

While in the car, I gave myself a peptalk about the whether I'd let just "anyone" cut my hair. It would only be a stop for products if the person had horrible hair, pink hair, body piercing that look like they hurt, and a few other traits that I probably shouldn't mention.

The shop was empty, and I interupted the middle aged lady who was about to dive into her hot pocket and root beer.

My self peptalk went out the door even though this lady resembled the "beauty operator" back in 1999 who scalped me like Sinead O'Conner while I was expecting Lydia. Yes,I think those were the last tears I shed over hair, or lack of. So, why I didn't just buy some spray and get out of there, I don't know.

Instead I was transported in time. My thinning, shaping and layering idea apparently translated into wacking off the hair of her graying minivan driving, sweats wearing (I was supposed to be exercising), hair unattended client with a "style" that could be defined as a mullet with just a couple of more wacks!

And why I would let a complete stranger give me bangs? She assured me the bangs could be blended in any day that I wanted something different. To me that meant, long bangs that would bug me to death but that I could clip back.

But her first wack was my first clue that I would not have long sweepy bangs.

Not since second grade have I had bangs this short ... when my mom cut them. I also discovered I haven't grown out of the cow lick either.

Turns out what she meant by the bangs was that I could wear them as bangs or FEATHER THEM BACK ... giggle.

I had a 20 percent off coupon for this place. But when she rang me up for $12.95, I was too embarrassed to whip out the coupon.

You do, indeed, get what you pay for.

Posted in: on Tuesday, January 29, 2008 at at 9:28 PM 4 comments  

There is an ever so slight spousal disagreement going on in reaction to our oldest son's entry into pre-pubescent lunacy.

Let's just say that one of us thinks he's funny and laughs at him.
The other rolls his (or her) eyes and gives his (or her) soulmate the look of "don't encourage this!"

The phase no doubt will be short and is merely a precipice to full pubescent lunacy. And that lunacy might not be so funny.

Deer Boy's answer to every request, assignment, comment is the word ... "Sir" ... with a slight lisp to sound like "thir" with his nose scrunched up and teeth bared.

All of us in the house (except for the grownup parent) are now saying it also.

There's also the "scream and run." He has a high-pitched little girl scream that emits when he is startled, acting like he's startled, has to do a math assignment, take out the trash or is being chased by a sibling. Both parents agree it's highly annoying but at least one parent sees the boy becoming a man and wishes she (or he) could get this on video to show at his wedding rehearsal or senior banquet.

The amused parent has been in a funk where most of the time everything in the world appears broken, believes her (or his) efforts are all futile and she (or he) has a bad attitude about everything ...

so let's take the laughs where we can get them!

SIR!

Posted in: on Tuesday, January 15, 2008 at at 7:41 AM 0 comments  

you'll have a delightful time in the kitchen.

Two of our Rwandan son's wishes over break have been to make cookies, and to drive.

I called cookies, and left the driving lessons to Steely Nerve Stan. (Let's just say that apparently there are too many stop signs to keep track of out there in our neighborhood.)

Cookie baking was a big hit. Who wouldn't get excited when someone uses a teaspoon and a tablespoon for the first time? It is interesting to smell the flour and consider the properties of baking soda. How exciting to teach someone to crack an egg without the aid of a fork. Who wouldn't share the joy of getting to put the entire bag of chocolate chips in the dough! Really!

Cooking with G, L and G is usually a blast too ... but that comes with less wide-eyed amazement and more whining. Maybe because we're always working in math?

And since G and L have been convalescing all week with a virus, and Grant's photo taking skills are not quite up to the task, I tried to chronicle this major event as best as I could. Is that flour on the lens?

Posted in: on Sunday, January 06, 2008 at at 9:08 AM 3 comments  

It's New Year's Day so of course we had Black Eyed Peas today. In year's past, we've had friends over, cooked up a big southern meal and had one last (first?) holiday bash. This year, I hoped we'd get an invitation to eat someone else's peas, and felt some guilt for not inviting anyone over. But in the end, after a long trip last week, and a long month (year), we decided we needed the rest. (Notwithstanding the knowledge that hardly anyone likes black eyed peas as much as we do!)

But Stan's brother did come through and made the good luck peas! We (Stan) made the collard greens and Mexican cornbread. Check out that pot Scott cooked the peas in ... slowly with many extra "flavors" thrown in. That pot is HEAVY and it gave us a new appreciation for our grandmothers and their grandmothers who hauled around pots like that daily to feed their hungry families.

We threw in some chow-chow, sweet potatoes, venison (thanks Giles!) and iced tea.

We were too full for dessert, so evening brings a slice of fresh coconut cream pie!

It should be a good year!

Posted in: on Tuesday, January 01, 2008 at at 7:36 PM 1 comments  

if you can't beat 'em, join 'em ...
this is a terrible drive-by picture, but it's all I have for now.

Can you tell what it is?
Our clever neighbors are displaying their senses of humor. Making the most of our newly tree (limb) lined street, they added a little Christmas cheer to the scene. In other words, they strung some lights on their curbside post ice storm limb pile. So funny.

I keep hearing folks refer to the limb piles as looking like a "war zone." Although I see the aim of the comparison, I hardly think so.

Although I've never seen a war zone up close and personal, I doubt neat piles of tree limbs ever accompany blood, violence, death ... the detritus of war.

I love that word "detritus." It always reminds me of Dan who helped expand my vocab from this post way back in 2003 ...

Posted in: on at at 7:14 PM 1 comments  

When out of nowhere yesterday, I found myself flooded with tears as I was SHOPPING. I was at Mardel (Christian bookstore) and probably saw a little angel or scripture that triggered it.

But it was a wave of incredible grief.

It was for my birthmother, Judy.

In a previous post, I eluded to this love story that happened in my life in October. It's a long story ... well, not so long in telling, but long in emotion. I can't write it yet.

My search was tentative but once we started, it took only a few days to find her. In one phone conversation with a volunteer researcher, I learned her name, the day she was born and ... the day she died.

The teenager who selflessly let her child go to a family with a mom and a dad, grew up, suffered through failed marriages, addictions, abuse and had two more children. She was funny, a free spirit, vulgar, a great friend, adventurous and beautiful. She beieved in God. I would say she was also hopeful. And she waited for me to knock on the door the minute I turned 18 years old.

She died at age 43. That's when I was a young married 26-year-old.

The whirlwind of finding her also led to a half-sister that I have met and am getting to know. That is so so wonderful. And we both admit, is strange. But I'm sure I'll get to all of that later.

It might seem strange to mourn someone I never met. But I was part of her. And in all of my years wondering about her, and thanking God for her, I never dreamed she would not be here anymore.

She died without knowing I was okay, which was one of her wishes and mine.

She died?

Lately, when all of this floods over me ... all of the new history of myself that I have, concern about my family and letting them know I love them, getting to know a new sister ... I just wish it wasn't me, not my story. Too complicated. I'm too busy. Yet, I trust God in it, and thank Him for his timing. He knew.

I'm okay, Judy. Merry Christmas. And thank you. I love you and will see you in heaven.

Posted in: on Friday, December 21, 2007 at at 8:44 AM 2 comments  

Here it comes. Christmas weekend. The long Christmas weekend. Lots of activity ... lots of cooking, traveling and being nice to family. (and lots of fun).

Still, I tend to veer close to meltdown.

The kids and I came up with a plan. If they observe me being stressed out, they are going to say, "Mom, I love you. Peace and Fun."

They practiced it several times yesterday while they were standing on the couch, pounding on the piano, fighting with each other, chewing their food too loudly.

It works.

Posted in: on at at 8:30 AM 0 comments  

So I encouraged Giles to help pick up the limbs at a neighbor's house. Their mighty oak suffered mightily in the ice storm. Husband travels, they have a toddler ... so we thought we'd help a bit.

G started dragging the limbs to OUR curbside. He was embarrassed by our wimpy limb pile from our one tree that actually survived the storm pretty well. And Stan cut up a lot of those branches to keep for future camping trips.

G wanted to beef up our limb pile.

It's all about status ... and being one of the "haves."

It is so difficult to be among the have nots.

Okay, sweetie, drag those limbs ... but you'll have to figure out how to be content and grateful when you open the NOTS in the packages under the limbs of our Christmas tree!

Posted in: on Thursday, December 20, 2007 at at 8:52 AM 0 comments  

Guess I should update to say we are now warm and toasty in our own home. It took four days and just as we were getting the hang of how to live life away from our house (with awesome meals prepared for us, other people's towels to use, and wifi), the power returned.

Giles cried. His cousin Chaney just got home for Christmas break from college, and they were having a blast.

But it's good to be home. The limbs are sort of cleaned up, except for about two million tooth pick sized twigs from the neighbor's oak. The fridge is sparkling clean and refilling. The freezer is full of venison (I'm cooking up a stew for Stan's fam this weekend). The laundry is caught up. The fish survived. And being away from my home computer and forced to check my webmail prompted me to trash more than 5,000 accumulated emails. That felt good.

It was a weird week. It was kind of tricky to handle the "out of power" life and related chores with the normal life. I never do that well anyway. I got one of the biggest shocks of my life when I discovered the world did not stop when I had my first baby. Everything went on ... and we were expected to truck right along. It took to the third kid to realize, no, we can get off the truck and live life differently ... slower.

It was a weird week and a weird year. Weird. Good in so many ways. God has revealed much. He's stirred up much. He's helped us grow. But it's been, well, weird.

I blame a lot of that on some of the books I've read this year ... books that challenged my thinking (or challenged me to think) on such topics as home educating, immigration, taking care of the poor, sweat shops, whole foods, slavery, war, civil rights, Jesus, his apostles, and more ...

Someone ... get me a dimestore novel.

Posted in: on Wednesday, December 19, 2007 at at 4:56 PM 0 comments  

at Stan's sisters house where we slept in a warm house, after two nights building our character in our cold house. Hot baths, warm beds, lights, tv ... and this morning, hot breakfast, not made by the mother! We are living large.

Things we miss about electricity, (contributors G, L & G and mom).
1. heat
2. webkins
3. lights
4. video games
5. freezer that protects our food, including our venison!
6. blow dryer
7. clean underwear
8. HOT COFFEE IN THE MORNING
9. Reading lamps
10.tv

The bright side of no electricity
1. At least a dozen offers of places to stay from family and friends! (blessed!)
2. eating out nearly every meal
3. laundry vacation
4. another cooking vacation!
5. appreciating excesses of our spoiled lives
6. singing Christmas carols by candlelight
7. batteries for flashlights
8. candles
9. It could be a lot colder
10. It's not The Long Winter
11. Dad's job where he is presently, and unable to contribute his two cents to this post!

That's all for now. Time to play Monopoly.

Posted in: on Friday, December 14, 2007 at at 9:51 AM 1 comments  

Posted in: on Tuesday, December 11, 2007 at at 11:23 AM 0 comments  

It's a sad commentary on our lives that I hardly ever see "Stan's laugh" anymore. The kind where he shakes and cries. He laughs so hard it looks painful but is contagious. We don't laugh that way very often ... and I'm not sure the kids have ever seen it.

Oh that is sad. Where has the mirth gone?

But they saw it last night immediately following the evening prayer. Lydia volunteered to pray, and we all threw out prayer reminders to her. One of us said, "remember the ice."

So she thanked God for the ice storm.

He held it together til after the amen and then dear Stan, the one who took the bus to work because we couldn't even crack into the 1/2 inch ice shell around our vehicles, the one who has dragged our crashed limbs and the neighbors' crashed limbs out of driveways and streets, has checked on the powerless (electricity wise) ... lost it.

Laugh. Shake. Tears. Compose. Laugh. Shake. Tears. Compose. Laugh. Shake. Tears. "Lydia, please come back to the table." Laugh. Shake. Tears.

She initially got her feelings hurt because we laughed "at" her, but we coaxed her back to the table. She just couldn't miss this mirth ... even if it was at her expense!

While we were explaining how we were not "laughing AT you" we all came up with reasons to thank God for the ice storm. Because she is right, and we thank God for all things.

We were thankful for the moisture that our state needs ...
We were thankful for the beauty ...
We were thankful that our power has held ... (that sounds so selfish given all those whose power is out)
We were thankful for fun outside observing all of the God-made ice sculptures.
We were thankful for his care.
We were thankful for the day when mom didn't make us do math
We were thankful for the laughs!

Posted in: on at at 8:51 AM 0 comments  

Need to update that Stan the Man fixed the range in about five minutes. On his birthday. With assistance from Giles. Saved $350. Cooking vacation is over. We were going to bake his birthday cake today to celebrate, but didn't get to it. So I baked fish for dinner instead!

Coconut cake coming soon.

He fixed the washer too. The usual method for that is to bang around some hoses, but mostly pray, we pray over it.

Posted in: on Thursday, December 06, 2007 at at 10:57 PM 0 comments