Playdate Problems

Yesterday Timid Daughter had a wonderful first playdate with her "best friend". They have long hung out on the playground at school and TD has spoken glowingly of this friend. But an attempt last year at an extracurricular playdate failed.

This school year, despite them not being in the same class, their friendship has flourished even more. So we decided to make another attempt at a playdate. TD phoned the friend and set up a playdate for this past Sunday. On Friday at school we bid the friend goodbye with excited words about the upcoming playdate being exchanged.

On Sunday we arrived home from church to a phone message wondering when the friend should come. I returned the call (merely 15 minutes after it had been left) and got an answering machine myself. I left a message about the time we'd planned originally. That time came and went. I phoned and left another message. Still the friend did not come. TD phoned also and left a message. No friend.

Suddenly memories from several years ago of a playdate gone bad for LMH raced through my mind. She had been asking for weeks to have this friend over. So I phoned and made arrangements. The day of the playdate came and the friend did not come. I phoned the house and left a message. Still no friend. Finally, in desperation to save the day for my daughter we called another friend - her best friend - to see if she could play instead. LMH's best friend could not play because the little girl that was supposed to be at our house was instead at hers. I immediately explained to the mom what had happened on our end. And she shared that they had just called the girl that afternoon and she agreed to come over (even though she'd told my daughter that very day that she'd be coming to our house). Needless to say, both that mom and I decided the little girl who had stood my daughter up for a better offer was no longer welcome in our homes for playdates.

Last Sunday my stomach was in knots over the thought that this could be happening again. After dinner the phone finally rang with a call from the girl's sister. They had gone out for the day, could she come another time? Despite the shakey circumstances, I jumped at the chance to salvage things. And salvage I did. The two girls had the best time yesterday and I hope that they continue to be friends and play together outside of school for years to come. Because I don't think I could handle it any other way.

Any Maids Looking for Work?

Combine one five-day weekend, including a trip out of town, with one laptop in need of a tiny repair that the repair folks turn into a much bigger deal. Result? AMusing Mom is all out of internet sorts.

I function very well with routine. Disrupt that routine and I'm honestly lost. I need to have my Monday through Friday "work week" with it's attendant flow of events. I need to have my laptop environment, complete with flexibility to work at the kitchen table while the Uber-Princess plays in the next room. I need my Simpleology to do list and my inbox folders for sorting email. Otherwise my ability to navigate the complex world of cyberspace and even the simple world of my little home just fizzles.

Enough about my virtual absence. Here's a quick story for you to show that my youngest child still deserves the title "Uber-Princess":

Last night, after a round of torturous room cleaning, which precluded having any dessert, she climbed into bed with a bit of grumbling.

Then she turned her round eyes up to me and said, "I wish I had a maid".

"Why?" I asked.

"If I had a maid, then I could just leave my things on the floor and she could put them away".

Who can argue with that? That's my Uber-Princess... And I think I'd like to be the Uber-Queen.

Nobody's Mom is in 4th Grade

I love that the second grade teachers at my children's school bring out the book Nobody's Mother is in Second Grade during the first few weeks of the school year. It really communicates the idea of personal responsibility quite clearly. And it's a handy tool for me to refer back to when my children want to blame me for something they should have remembered.

Like today, when I reminded my fourth grader that it was her job to remember her flute on Tuesdays for band. Even though I brought it to her last week, I explained that doing so was an act of grace. It wouldn't happen again because...nobody's mother is in fourth grade. She nodded and agreed that it was her responsibility. And I smiled to see the flute grasped firmly in one of her hands as we headed off to school.

Then I stopped to chat with another band mom on the playground. Yes, remembering to bring her flute was an issue with her daughter also. We both commented that: isn't it great that we can pull out the whole "nobody's mother..." line, instead of allowing our kids to blame us. Oh yes, we are both very hopeful that our children are being taught well about responsibility and taking care of the things that fall to them. The load on our fourth graders seems to be getting tougher, but we are so proud of them and confident they'll continue to shoulder more and more responsibility. Definitely, things are going well this school year. Yes, they are!

And this musing mom (who isn't in fourth grade) walked blithely back to her home, glad for the strides her young ones are taking. Glad, that is, until she saw the blinking light on the answering machine.

"Mom, I forgot my lunch. Can you bring it over before 11:30?", came the fourth grade voice.

Now I don't know who Nobody is, but since their mom is in second grade, maybe she could take this lunch to school with her to pass along to my daughter... just so long as she doesn't point out the pudding and fruit snacks that seem to somehow have mysteriously disappeared from it.

Sigh... What grade aren't you in?

I have my music

It took me months of saving my allowance and paper route money to get my first Sony Walkman. It was a cutting edge piece of electronics at the time. Not only did it play tapes, but it also had an FM cassette device for listening to the radio. I had that walkman for years, and in typical teenager fashion, used it a lot.

In recent years, however, the concept of personal music had all but disappeared for me. My "current" walkman sat untouched at the bottom of a drawer, the headphones long missing. Keeping an ear out for babies and toddlers made them unworkable. In fact, even my house radio often stayed silent during the day because so often my children's conversational voices were too soft to hear above the music. I found myself turning it off every time I wanted to talk to them. Then in the evenings my husband would dominate the radio dial. Even if I liked what I was hearing, it wasn't very often that it was my music playing.

But I had no idea what I was missing until this week. I now have an iPod. I don't have much music loaded on it yet, but no matter. You see, I have also discovered Pandora. Oh the joys of creating your own "stations" and listening to music that you had forgotten you liked! It was pure bliss to put in my ear buds the other night and snuggle under the covers with the sounds of Gordon Lightfoot serenading me. I like my iPod and I love being able to listen to my music on occasion. Tonight I'll join my husband in listening to Mountain Stage on the house stereo. But maybe tomorrow I'll plug back in and rock out to Outfield or chill to George Winston.


How about you? What are you listening to these days?

Ta Daaa!

Okay, so I kind of feel like I do when I get a really cute new haircut. There's that whole feeling of "will anyone notice" and "will they like it", combined with the "I don't care, because I LOVE it" attitude. And then there's the surreptitious looking in the mirror, trying to steal glances at different angles, marveling that it's really still me under that glorious 'do.

Yes, it's still me, A Musing Mom, just sporting a new look. The new design was a birthday gift from LMH & Timid Daughter, which I asked for partly for fun and partly because it fits my clutter-free/less clutter gift desires (which totally do not apply to clothes because they hardly take up space at all, right Mom?).

Don't you think George & Ashley of Tekeme Studios did an awesome job? If you need a new 'do - I mean blog or website design, check them out.

Me? I'm going back to stealing glances in the mirror at my blog page.

Shadow Play

GPS for Real Moms

I got a great gift for my birthday from A Musing Dad: a GPS. How awesome is that? No more getting turned around and having to backtrack when I'm trying to find a new place. No more trying to read the MapQuest printout while scanning street signs and wishing my perfectly able-bodied nine-year-old could sit in the front seat and help me navigate. But even better: no more wondering where exactly the nearest gas station would be. I do this even in my own stomping grounds.

I love, love, love the long list of "nearby points of interest" that are available at my fingertips: banks, libraries, police stations (very, very important from a safety standpoint), places of worship... Yet already I find that the makers of the Garmin Nuvi have neglected the item of utmost importance to every mom of preschoolers...the restroom!

Could you imagine how much better life would be if, in that moment of panic when your child realizes they've waited too long, you could respond calmly to the desperate plea of "I have to go potty. Nooooowww!"? Imagine your poise as you deftly tap your GPS screen and select under the "nearby places of interest", the words "public restroom", then select the best option and peacefully guide your child (with the help of the pleasant GPS navigator voice) to the absolute closest public restroom.

Yep, the GPS market, which is already on fire, would fairly explode were they to make that simple modification and market it as a mommy map. Add in places for nursing in privacy, or places to hide a toddler having a meltdown...

You think Garmin will be calling me soon to ask me to consult on this new project? 'Cuz I have a few more ideas. Now if only they'd create an option for locating your GPS device. Where did I put that thing, anyway?

To Mom & Dad

on the Fortieth Anniversary of your entry in to parenthood...

(St. Margaret Hospital, September 1968)

I imagine you there at the nursery window, Mom in a wheelchair, Dad standing behind her. You hold hands tight and stare through the glass at the all-too-tiny baby. She sleeps, safely cocooned within the protective walls of the incubator. Her wispy fingers curl in fists and her delicate chest heaves up and down. Her skin is pale, almost translucent, adding to the fragile aura about her, this October baby come in September.

A nurse sees you at the window and goes over to the glass incubator. She carefully reaches in and lifts the little baby girl for you to see. Almost immediately her tiny mouth opens in a cry and you start in surprise again. She's here. Already. Too soon. You think over the past hours, the past days. Mom-to-be, admitted to the hospital for toxemia, dad-to-be continuing to work. And then THAT day, the day the baby arrives. The messages to Dad that his baby is coming don't get passed along. Mom goes through labor, wondering if he is there waiting, and wondering how her baby will be.

At that nursery window your minds race with prayers for this little preemie. Prayers of gratitude for her wholeness, her health... and prayers that she'll stay safe and well. Prayers that soon she will come home with you where you can hold her and kiss her. But for now...

It isn't at all how you expected. That is your baby. You should be cuddling her, cradling her in your arms. That you can't makes her seem that much more fragile and far away. You wonder about her, this tiny little thing. Will she grow and flourish like all the round, pink-cheeked babies in the maternity ward? Will she play dolls and skip rope? Will she...

After a while you leave. You'll return later, many, many times - sometimes being allowed into the nursery, reaching in the incubator and touching her bitty fingers. But not holding her. Not yet.

You see, for that first month in that nursery, in that incubator, Someone Else is holding her. Some One unseen. He holds her with gentle hands and whispers over her of His plans for her. And years down the road when those hands reach out again, she'll know them... recognize them. She'll grab them and hang on.

This once tiny one, now all grown up, too big for cuddles and lap sitting, still rests in Those Hands. She's glad for a Mom & Dad who took such good care of her in her youth. And she's glad for the hands of a Heavenly Father who held her in an incubator forty years ago and didn't let her go.

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

Since when do elbows figure into morals?

"Push her back! C'mon, get in there!"

The mom in the lawn chair next to me leaned forward, shouting mightily to her daughter on the field. The opposing player had been running hard alongside the girl as she tried to move the ball down the field. Suddenly her arms came up and she gave a swift, almost covert shove. Our player plunged to the ground, while her opponent took off down the field with the ball.

"They need to get more aggressive out there. Our girls aren't being nearly physical enough," the mom growled.

I watched with my stomach in knots as the more experienced team our girls were playing their very first game against continued to dominate, not by fair play, but by foul.

The banter and angry shouts to stoop to their level of play continued from the other parents on our side of the field. Then the referee blew his whistle to call a player on elbowing.

"Finally!" yelled one of the dads.

This was how our first club soccer game went a week and a half ago. And I find myself in the peculiar situation of having to explain to my daughter about playing clean, but also about following the coach's instructions. In talking to the coach, he basically said it came down to morals (following official rules of soccer which don't allow for elbowing) or doing what the ref will let you get away with. I wonder if this coach will sometimes follow the other team's lead in terms of "dirty play". I've told my daughter to not do anything wrong on the field, but to also follow instructions from the coach (and NOT the parents on the sidelines).

Sigh. It was so much easier when it was just at the park district level. I'm also left to wonder, have we done the right thing?

On the Air

Remember the book, Pampering Gifts? It's a Martha Stewart meets Mary Hunt (Cheapskate Monthly) how-to book that brings a ministry slant to decorating and gift giving. You can see the cover and link to it on my sidebar there to the right. Well, this little book has been huffing and puffing it's way along in the world of book selling. Yes, its the Little Book That Could.

A little update on it's journey: the author will be a guest on Prime Time Chicago (90.1 WMBI) this Wednesday at 3pm. She'll be talking about gift giving on a modest budget - something many of us will be thinking about even more this Fall as our economy continues to slide downward. If you're in the Chicago area, tune in on Wednesday. Outside of Chicago you can listen live over the internet at the WMBI website. Pray for a good phone connection while she's being interviewed (she's having issues with this).

Other book news: Proverbs 31 Ministries will be adding Pampering Gifts to the list of books available through their She Plans web site. Tell your church events planner and women's ministry director to check out this site. LeAnn Rice is working hard to help event planners with articles and resources for every aspect of event planning.

Just a little update, for those who want to know.

Same but Different

Yesterday was the first day of Uber-Princess's second year of preschool. I expected it to be the same-old, same-old, even though I told her to expect it to be different. It was different. She was in the same room with one of the same teachers as last year and a few of the same kids. But instead of sixteen kids and two teachers there were only eight kids and one teacher. Smaller, quieter. No long hug goodbye this year, just a little wave. Instead of skipping out to my car without looking back, I shuffled slowly with many little glances over my shoulder. For a couple of hours I was going to miss my little princess.

The trip to Panera felt the same but different too. Different day, different crowd. Ah, but the red-haired retired man in his neat polo, khaki shorts and loafers was there as usual. The cinnamon bagel tasted the same, but cost more. My regular spot was open, but I went to a table next to an outlet for the first time instead. This year I reveled in the bittersweet taste of freedom, but only briefly, before setting to my tasks.

Last year I was a mom new to those hours without children. I felt like I would get lost in the expanse of free time. Now I know all too well the tightness of their boundaries. I am familiar with where they end. Like many moms, that first year I moved more into the space than would fit. This year it's still cramped and crowded, but I can make my way around to what I need. I see that the space has expanded - just a little. And I wonder if it's enough to move in the things outside the door yet. Or must they wait for next year?

A few hours later, I leave my space, my heart a little lighter. I go back to collect my little princess who grabs my hand tight and looks intently into my face as she shows me the baby dolls and dress-up clothes in her classroom. I pick her up and carry her out of the room, enjoying the little hands wrapped around my neck. I savor being with her. And later that evening as her father tells how she ran out to tell him in a breathy voice that "Keeevvvinn" was in her class again, I chuckle. Already the space is becoming more comfortable again - different, but comfortable.

For Better, For Worse

One of my favorite comic strips, For Better or For Worse, signed off this weekend with this beautiful strip.

But that's not what this post is about. This one is a meme, with the subtitle:
5 Ways Blogging Changed My Life

This meme was created by L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone, who was kind enough to tag me.
Here are the rules:

1. Write about 5 specific ways blogging has affected you, either positively or negatively.
2. link back to the person who tagged you
3. link back to this parent post (I'm not so much interested in generating links, but rather in tracking the meme so I can perhaps do a summary post later on that looks at patterns and interesting discoveries.)
4. tag a few friends or five, or none at all
5. post these rules— or just have fun breaking them

So, here goes:
1. I've found a new object that triggers my Catholic guilt. When my blog languishes from lack of posts, I feel guilty of neglect. Dear readers, please know how badly I feel when you must go for days on end without hearing from me. [Ahem]. Now that I've gotten that out of my system...

2. Before I started this blog I was virtually clueless about the world of blogging. I hadn't read any blogs. I don't even remember how I started finding blogs to read. Now I've got several tabs on my Google home page for blogs. And I enjoy reading them all because of what I learn from them - about life, writing, and the people who blog. Some regularly make me laugh (BatteredHam, Beast Mom), some make me cry (...another chapter) and many I am glad to call friends (Llama Momma, Reconciliation Blog).

3. I spent some time obsessing over my blog posts for the first six months or so. Every little thing that would happen to me would have me thinking, "hey, this would make a great blog post!". Now I just think, "hey, I want to remember to put this in my Christmas letter this year - I'd better blog about it".

4. I've found my voice. Or maybe I'm continuing to find it. A certain style seems to prevail over time in my posts, a way of looking at things, phrasing my thoughts. Blogging has been a great exercise for me as a writer in ways that my paper journal could never be.

5. I've heard your voices. I love that blogging is an interactive medium. I write articles, but rarely hear how they were received by the reader. Here I can hear back from readers immediately (hint, hint to all of you lurkers). It's very satisfying. But not only that, it is so good to be able to learn what other people think about the things I'm thinking about (whether they agree or disagree).

Tagged: anyone listed above who cares to share on this topic, along with Wily Hacker (who could use a new post sometime soon), Beth at A Quest For Relevance, and Breaths of the Heart.

Our New Old Routine

is wearing me out! I hadn't realized how truly relaxed our summer schedule had been until the kids went back to school. I know I hadn't been getting as much work done of any sort, so I was kind of looking forward to the return to routine. I could finally have more time free to "get stuff done".

Here we are: week two of school. I'm up at the crack of dawn to have a quiet time and workout and... Well, I get up and have that quiet time and then get everyone fed and off to school. Then it's back home to finish up move the load of laundry to the dryer and get started on cleaning up from breakfast. Then I fold the laundry, move the laundry upstairs and work on some writing make lunch. After lunch it's time to read to the Uber-Princess before her rest time and then in to my office to make some phone calls put away the laundry and pick up toys. By the time all that is done my watch tells me I need to be walking over to school to pick the girls up. So I do that and after a half hour of watching them play on the playground gabbing with other moms, I head the gang home for the after school routine. While LMH and Timid Daughter work on homework I'm busy working on favors for an upcoming baby shower emptying the dishwasher and fixing dinner.

All too soon the day is over. But that's okay, because I can look around my immaculate much lived-in home while I drink a soothing cup of tea plain glass of non-fat water. By then I'm feeling ready to work on a couple dozen masterpiece scrapbook pages fall into bed.

In Stitches

Timid Daughter is the clown in our family. Most days you can find her hamming it up - either singing some made up tune, bustin' a move or just simply being goofy and laughing at herself. She is one funny girl and she keeps us in stitches often.

This past weekend though, she was the one who ended up in stitches - literally. In the course of nine years of parenting I have never been to the emergency room with any of my children. We've had a couple of x-rays and the normal number of scrapes, boo-boos and illnesses. But no broken bones or other bad injuries. Until Saturday evening.

Timid Daughter scampered across our neighbor's lawn to find us and tripped on their stone steps, gouging out a chunk of her leg. So we went to the emergency room, she and I. And we waited and waited and watched some Olympics and waited. Finally the doctor came to repair her leg. She got three stitches. The worst of it was getting the shot to numb the area. And the second worst of it was having to sit with her leg elevated for a whole day. She was so glad for the next morning to arrive so that she could go back to moving around.

Her comment when I asked the doctor if the white I was seeing deep in the wound was bone?

"Oh Mom, that's just the skin on the inside. It just doesn't get tan like the rest."

Yup, she's still keeping everyone in stitches - except for herself. She's hoping to be done with stitches next week so she can get back to gym and soccer.

Taking Inventory

School resumes here next week. So that means some shopping is in order this week. We've got most of the supplies: pencils by the dozens, reams of paper, stacks of folders. It's the clothes we have left to deal with.

Let me remind you, I don't. like. to. shop. I grew up attending parochial school with its attendant uniforms. Oh the bliss! No early morning clothing crisis there. No long shopping trips. No, new clothes for school to me always meant simply a new pair of shoes.

We'll shop for shoes this week. And of course, that is something this shoe-loving mom can handle. It's all the rest that makes my stomach cramp.

In an effort to, shall we say, streamline the process, I took an inventory of my children's wardrobes today. LMH has seventeen short-sleeved shirts, five of which are brown (and three of which are brown and pink, to be precise). This might sound like an obscene number of shirts. That's because it is! Of course Timid Daughter has her own twenty short-sleeved shirts. They must mate like rabbits in the drawers because I don't remember buying that many.

Other items in LMH's wardrobe?
2 skorts
7 shorts
8 skirts
7 dresses
2 pants
3 warmup pants
1 capris
4 tank tops
5 long-sleeved shirts

And this child comes to me nearly every week to complain that she has nothing to wear!

I share all of this because I am perplexed. My children have plenty of clothes, but nothing to "wear". Their closets are full, but they can't find anything "to match". Do I shop and just add to it? Or do I challenge them to make it work? Am I alone in this wardrobe challenge?

Sitting Next to Bejing

She bowed slightly, then held out her hand.

"I'm Mary", she said. "I'm from Bejing."

She took the seat next to me and we began to talk. I learned that she'd only been here ("in America", as she said) for twenty days, having come with her husband on a job transfer. She came to Toastmasters because it was a familiar place. She showed me a photo of her Bejing Toastmasters group. So similar, yet so different.

Later in the evening she got up and shared briefly about herself and her country. Her words rolled and bumped in a lovely accent. She gestured gracefully as she described some of the traditions in her country. I was mesmerized.

That was last night. Today marks the beginning of the 2008 Olympics in Bejing, China. For the next few weeks, our eyes, our attention will be on Bejing. We'll be watching not only the athletes and their competitions, but also the people and culture of the host country. I imagine we'll all be mesmerized. For a while it will seem as though Bejing is not over six thousand miles away, but rather, in the seat beside us.

Enjoying the Fruits

My kitchen is echoing with the sound of smacking lips. That and a loud "pop", followed by cheers signal one of my favorite times of year:New Year's Blueberry Harvest. Yeah, no champagne here. It's something even better - homemade blueberry jam.

I was thinking as I munched on a piece of toast lathered in fresh hot jam, while cheering for the popping lids: what an increasingly unique experience. Yet my kids hardly know it. They are growing up thinking that homemade jam, salsa and applesauce are "normal".

Here's the thing: canning and making jams, is a dying art. In years past it was a necessity for winter survival. But with commercial canning, it's now become a delicacy. Moms aren't passing the skills on to their kids. In fact, many of my contemporaries don't know how to can and preserve. We're already on to the second generation of losing this homemaker's skill.

I'm doing my part to pass along the skills to my children. Hopefully they will continue it. They certainly have a culinary appreciation for homemade jam and applesauce. And they're developing the know-how.

Enough rambling. If you're a canning neophyte and want to learn how - give me a ring. I'll be more than happy to teach you. And just so you know - it took us all of an hour to put up 5 jars of jam. It was a matter of crushing blueberries and boiling them with pectin, adding some sugar and then spooning into clean, hot jars. Then we put on the two-piece lids, inverted them for five minutes and enjoyed the scrapings from the pan while we waited. Now I'm listening to lids pop and anticipating a few months of yummy blueberry jam.

Anyone else out there do some sort of home preserving and care to share? I'm thinking I'm not as alone in this as I feel.

Vacation Restoration

We enjoyed our week away. Here are a few highlights:
*daily trips to the beach
*lots of bike riding
*campfires, campfires, campfires
*spiders and snakes and bats (oh, my!)

The highlight for my children were all the hands-on nature programs run by the state park naturalists. They got to handle worms (two kinds), hold snakes, explore a creek for such finds as crayfish and waterbugs and snails, see hundreds of black widow spiders and a tarantula too. These are not girlie-girls. Or maybe they are, but they're not the squeamish kind. Thank goodness for them.

The highlight for me were the times of quiet and stillness I found: standing in the woods listening to the birds and the rustling leaves(while waiting for the Uber-princess to catch up on her little bike), standing in Lake Michigan watching the waves sweep in over and over, sitting beside a warm fire as the sun began to rise, sitting on a sand dune watching the sun set.

The commonality in all that for both the girls and I? Nature. We got good and close to it, in our own ways, closer than we can get in our suburban environment. It was good for my soul and good for their minds.

Returning Home

I am back from a week away from home. It was a good break and the R & R did us all a lot of good, but of course home is better. Home is always better.

I think of that this morning after learning of a church friend's departure for "home". Her time away from home - here on earth - was relatively short. But I'm guessing today she is experiencing that great relief and joy of being where she truly belongs.

I brought Leslie and her journey through cancer to you some months ago, asking you to pray. Now that her journey is over, the journey for her husband and 3-year-old son has just become tougher and perhaps lonelier. Please pray for Tyson and TJ.

Fresh Air

Feel it blowing? Oh sure, it's a little hot, but it's fresh. See, it was getting a bit stale in here. So I thought I'd open things up a bit, do a little cleaning and some updating too.

First of all, I've added some new blog links (so these folks will see a little bump in their Technorati authority). These are pretty much the bulk of what resides in my iGoogle tabs and feeds. You'll find a bunch of writers, a few speakers, agents and any of my friends who have blogs (that I know of).

I also updated my list of what I'm reading. That changes often enough that it's hard to keep up with. And really it's an incomplete list. I'm also currently reading Guerrilla Marketing For Writers and Publicize Your Book - any hints as to what my current project might be? Plus I picked up a Nora Roberts novel at the library today out of curiousity.

That's about it so far. Like my home, this blog gets a bit neglected in the Summer. It's hard to take care of either when you're spending hours at the pool or off on Friday Fun on Thursday outings (I rarely manage to hold Friday Fun on Friday - what's up with that?). Hope it feels a little fresher and more welcoming.

Thanks, as always, for stopping by. And no matter how dusty it gets, remember you're always welcome here.

New Shoes

These. Are my. New. Shoes.

(WARNING: Silly dithering about totally superficial stuff to follow. Read at your own risk. Unless you love shoes. Then you'll understand).

Aren't they lovely? I think I've said it here before that I don't like to shop. Really. Except for shoes. And especially when there is a great shoe sale. Today I found one. I knew Carson Pirie Scott department store was having a big clearance sale and I had some coupons to sweeten the deal. So I went in looking for: a bathing suit and adorable shoes.

Bathing suits this year just weren't working for me - and that's with them on the hangers. A lot of browns. But never mind the bathing suits. Now for the shoes...oh the shoes!

The entire stock of Bobbie Blu shoes was 60% off. I saw the sign. And I saw the shoes. And I told myself to breathe deep. Because I love that entire line of shoes. Bobbie Blu shoes were made for this girl. There's not a pair I wouldn't wear (just maybe one or two that would be dangerous for me to wear). They are funky and cute and...and...I just love them! But being the woman of restraint and frugality that I am, I told myself that it simply wasn't an option to buy (or even try on) all of them. So I picked the two most adorable, sweet looking, catch-your-eye pairs of flats to go with jeans. And I tried them on.

Can I say that they are even cuter on my feet than they are on the shelf? These shoes give me happy feet!

Now, while I wait for jeans weather, just what other outfits can I pair these fantastic little shoes with?

I'm Still Here

Just doing stuff like taking kids to swimming lessons (LMH is going to learn a flip turn tomorrow. I'm jealous. I never learned how to do that and I think it would make my lap-swim workout so much more effecient), having picnics at parks with friends or watching Musing Dad play volleyball at lunch.

We've been camping, bike riding, disc golfing and pulling weeds. I've put nearly eight coats of varnish on these perler bead circles that the girls have made to sell as markers at disc golf tournaments. And they sold twenty-plus bottles of frozen lemonade at last month's tournament.

We've memorized about a third of Philippians 4 and worked through hundreds of workbook pages. Each of the girls are learning new things like how to write lower-case letters, how to play the flute and piano, how to improve their disc golf throw and how to juggle.

I've read Ninety Minutes in Heaven, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and am three-quarters of the way through with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (if you've read it all, don't share any spoilers).

Hope that explains the occasional lapses in blog posts. Hope you're out doing fun stuff too. If you have any fun ideas for things we can try this summer, let me know in the comments below.

Happy middle of Summer (yes, we passed the half-way mark here in our fair city)!

You Gotta See This

My dad pointed me to this amazing video today. It is unlike anything out there, so it's hard to describe. It's beautiful and funny. And it captures this great global sense of community. Don't let the brash title keep you from watching it.

Old Playgrounds = New Experiences

Where we live our children are blessed to play on the latest, newest, safest playground equipment. There are monkey rings and spider web climbers, zip lines, rock climbing walls, roller slides, and tons of fun play stuff. When we moved into our house five years ago the nearest playground at the grade school was undergoing a complete overhaul. Since then other parks in the area have been redone too.

I appreciate all this new equipment. I'm glad my kids can have the best of what's out there. But until this past weekend when they got to play on a hopelessly outdated playground at our campground, I didn't realize what they were missing.

Remember the merry-go-round? Not the carousel type with horses that go up and down. I'm talking about the circular platform with metal bars that is kid-powered. Or how about the seesaw/teeter totter, which is basically a wooden board with two handles that rests on a bar? Aside from the monkey bars those had been my favorite parts of our park when I was growing up. We'd play this game on the merry-go-round that involved trying to keep your balance while standing in the middle as the other kids spun like crazy. And I remember sitting endlessly on the seesaw, just floating up and down while a friend and I ate popsicles and chatted and played make-believe.

Those things no longer exist on modern playgrounds. They're considered dangerous. Oh heck, they are dangerous...but fun! Well, my kids got their first taste of a merry-go-round this weekend. And they learned about centrifugal force when their friends' dad showed them how to lean outward and then pull in to the center to speed up the rotation. And one of their friends learned the necessity of hanging on (at least I think he did, after being flung off more than once).

There weren't any seesaws there. But now I'm on the lookout for them. I've realized what I'm missing about our playgrounds. Never mind my kids, they're safer without these things. But me? I'm just yearning for another chance to float up and down on a seesaw while chatting with a friend -- and getting a good leg workout in the process.

More Than You Ever Wanted to Know

Ed Gilbreath at Reconciliation Blog tagged me for this meme. And since it's Summer and I'm on vacation, I figured I'm game to go with it.

Here are the rules:

* Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
* Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
* Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
* Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Seven Facts About Me:

1. I'm sitting in my pop-up camper right now in Coloma, Michigan. Because you know, camping is all about getting away from it all and enjoying the wide outdoors. The RV across the road has a satellite dish set up. Yep, we are all roughing it here!

2. Weird fact: two of my toes are permanently curved. To straighten them would require breaking of bones. Therefore they remain forever curled under.

3. As I kid I preferred soft serve ice cream to hard. So when we scooped ice cream at home (preferably chocolate) I would mush and stir 'til it reach soft serve consistency. These days? Who has the patience?!

4. I don't watch TV, except for The Simpsons (with my husband, because it's his thing) and Ugly Betty, which I watch online while folding laundry.

5. I once worked for my hometown weekly newspaper as a receptionist/classified ad taker. The best day of the week was Wednesday when the week's paper was put to rest. The owner would give me the keys to his fancy Lincoln so I could get lunch for the staff. It was always a big celebration.

6. I have never played in a curling match. This probably comes as no surprise to my American readers, but when I worked for a Canadian company, my co-workers were just aghast at this. I later learned that there actually is a curling club in Chicago, so there may be hope for me yet.

7. I'm an incredibly indecisive person. And I'm learning from a book on character that I'm using with my children, that indecisiveness is a vice (not a virtue). I can't decide if I agree with that or not. I also can't decide which seven bloggers I'd like to hear from. So...I've probably done this before, but I'm doing it again: if you'd like to be tagged, consider it done and leave a link in the comments below. And if you don't want to be tagged, tell me what you think about indecisiveness - is it a shortcoming character-wise or not?

No Doubt

She Speaks was a great conference. As a writer, speaker and blogger I would have loved to have sat it on almost every workshop they had. As it was, though, I ended up on overload with all the information I gained in the ones I did get to. Translating it all to my life will make a world of difference.

I mentioned in my previous post that it was more than just a conference. It had all the makings of a great retreat: awesome worship sessions, Bible-centered keynote talks, tranquil prayer room and good bonding time in small groups. With the high caliber of speakers they had, I found myself reaching for a Kleenex not only in the main sessions, but also just about every workshop (okay, so in the "What Not to Wear" workshop it might have been tears of lament over having to give up my terrific oversized handbag that's not proportional to my medium-sized body). I've been summing it up for folks as a "10-hankie weekend".

On Saturday evening, Renee Swope spoke on "Beyond the Shadow of Doubt". At the end of her talk she invited everyone to write down on a postcard the doubts they were having. And then we were invited to come forward and lay those doubts at the foot of the cross and take a verse card that was there -- verse cards that had been prayed over, seeking that each one would answer the doubts and needs of the receiver.

It was amazing to see the universality of doubt. Every woman there seemed to experience it to one degree or another. Many were crying as they came forward.

It was also amazing to see how the verse cards truly did meet the needs of each one's heart. One postcard placed at the cross went something like this: "I'm feeling like I'm only second-rate and not worthy of doing anything significant". The verse that person received? "You are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you. Isaiah 43:4."

There is no doubt that God is using Proverbs 31 Ministries and the She Speaks conference to equip women ask writers, speakers, women's ministry leaders, and yes, bloggers. It is unlike any other writers' conference I have been to.

This Northern Gal Goes South

Being in North Carolina this weekend for the She Speaks conference was such a delight. I could almost feel my pulse settle into a slower rhythm while I was there. The highways weren't so crowded or frenetic feeling. People in shops and restaurants were friendly and polite. And then there were the drawling accents - the langurous "y'alls" and "girlfriends" that peppered conversations with Southern sweetness.

The best part of this was listening to my inner voice pick up that drawl and carry it into all my interior monologues and thoughts. I was much kinder to myself while down South. Even if I had wanted to say to myself, "What were you thinking, you idiot!" after some social misstep (which always generates that kind of reaction from my inner voice - it's a very, very hard-to-please type), "Well now, what were y'all thinking, girlfriend?" always comes off half as harsh. Which had me wishing there was some way I could stay.

And then there was the sweet tea. I'm a tea drinker through and through. Die hard. I brew my first cup while still in my pajamas. Hot or cold, I love tea - with LOTS of sugar. Around here, you get your tea without sugar, or if it's sweetened, it's only mildly so. But sweet tea in North Carolina? Now that I could live with every day. Yep, I was thinking I could have me some sweet tea like that all the time. Y'all know what I mean?

But this Northern gal is back home now. And while she may be driving faster and talking flatter, her pulse is still lazing along Southern style. It was such a pleasure to visit North Carolina and be treated to a retreat-like conference hosted by the wonderful team of Proverbs 31 Ministries. I'd go back in a Northern heartbeat.

Eating in the Car

Who knew it could be so fun? To me it’s something I do only out of necessity. But this summer I’m finding for my kids that it’s a treat.

It started last week when we were delayed meeting friends for a picnic at a children’s theme park. As we drove there I encouraged my kids to make the most of our time by eating their lunch in the van instead. I waited for the groans and complaints. Instead they cheered.

With them being 9, 7 & almost 5 it actually worked. LMH kept control of the cooler and divvied out the food. By the time we pulled into the parking lot of our destination everyone (including me!) had finished eating. And when we found our friends they were packing up their own blankets and getting ready to move on to the fun.

Fast forward to this week. My children are tired of getting up at 6:30 to eat breakfast before taking LMH to her 7:30am flute lessons. It’s summer. They want to sleep in. I want them to sleep in. So we’ve found a new arrangement that everyone loves. I let them sleep until 7am and then they pack up a little container of dry cereal to munch on in the car while they wait during lessons (and LMH takes her own container to eat on the way home - not before, lest she blow cereal bits into that precious instrument).

Now as I’m packing for the She Speaks conference I’m thinking this same thing might work well for my plane trip. Instead of eating breakfast in the airport, I could take one of those individual serving boxes of cereal that we have in our pantry for camping. With some milk from the flight attendant I could have breakfast on the plane. That works for me!

For more fun tips check out Rocks in My Dryer's Works-For-Me-Wednesday post.

Happy Sad

Yesterday as we drove past the cemetery in town Timid Daughter asked, "Why do the cars go in the cemetery?"

I was still pondering how to explain this to a seven-year-old when she answered herself (because TD in particular is fond of talking to herself). This is what she said:

"People go there for memories - to remember the people that died. When someone we know dies we're not sad for them. We're sad because we miss them, but we're happy for them because they're in heaven. And that's a good thing for them..."

She kept pondering this for a moment.

"Did you know that you can be two things at once? You can be both happy and sad at the same time."

Then Timid Daughter continued along that thought for a bit more. The idea of experiencing two opposing emotions at once was a new one for her and I think she enjoyed thinking it through.

I thought of her monologue today when I read L.L. Barkat's post, Of Bridges & Violins & Words.

And I thought of these verses yesterday as TD was speaking:

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.

1 Timothy 4:13-18

I hope those words encourage you today too.

A Super Fantastic Wonderfully Superb Day

As we gathered the fixings for some sundaes this evening, Timid Daughter turned to me and commented, "This has been a really cool, fun day!"

I looked down at her grinning face.

"We got to do so many great things!" she exclaimed.

I began racking my brain...so many great things? Let's see:

*we waited in the van for a half hour at 7:30am for LMH's flute lesson

*we did some odd chores, schoolwork, etc. at home

*went to Backyard Bible School (okay, that qualifies as cool & fun)

*ate lunch & went to the library (in my book, very fun)

*then went out for groceries

*washed the van (involved water and bathing suits, which generally constitutes fun)

*read, cooked, ate

*pulled a gazillion maple sproutlings from our yard - among the grass no less

*had an ice cream sundae bar, meaning we got out all the toppings and sprinkles we could find and held a make-your-own (most definitely fun)

It seemed to me like a fairly normal day with a little fun sprinkled in. I'm just glad that those little sprinkles are all it takes to add up to great fun for my girls.

And with posts like this, who needs Twitter anyway?

What's Everyone in a Twitter About?

So I'm noticing Twitter showing up on more and more blogs these days. Whether people are Twitterpated by it or not, is up for grabs. But I'm thinking to myself, now is this something I want to do? After all, it's summer and every minute I'm online is a minute I'm not hanging out with my kids. Which only works to a certain degree. Then it's time to fully engage.

So what about the whole concept of micro blogging? It certainly has it's place. It might be much easier to throw up a quick 140-character post about what I'm up to. But who wants to know that much? Twitter's selling point is connection with friends and family about what goes on in between blog posts. Do you really want to know? I mean I can tell you now that I eat, sleep, cook, do laundry, write a little, cook, do laundry and so on.

I'm thinking it's best at a social interface level. So far I've only seen a few bloggers using Twitter and few in my "inner circle" of blogging friends. Until more of those sign up I think I'm off the hook. But it's gaining popularity and it may be only a matter of time whether I seriously "Twitter" (or "Plurk")... or not.

Any thoughts on Twitter?

Take The Challenge!

This summer I'm implementing a plan I learned at a workshop at the Hearts at Home national moms' conference this year. It's called the "Super Summer Challenge" and the idea comes from Linda Wicks and what she learned from Sanity in the Summertime by Linda Dillow & Claudia Arp. Here's how it is working for our family:

Each child has a list of challenges related to things we would like to see them work on. For LMH it includes practicing flute for 20 minutes, moving up to the next swim level, celebrating someone else's success, journaling about her daily bible reading, making dessert and writing a letter. These and other challenges fall under one of four categories: Physical, Mental, Spiritual, and Caring/Sharing. Each challenge earns points (more for tougher, less for easier/favorite items).

My kids each need to earn a certain amount for us to take a weekly fun outing. And for every 20 points they earn they get a dollar. Then we have a long-term goal of a certain number of points for the summer after which we will take a big outing (American Girl Place, where we'll do something extra special like get photos done in the studio or eat lunch/tea in the Cafe).

The point is to get our kids trying new things and improving at old things. And the benefit is any time they need something to do they simply refer to the Challenge Chart. No more saying, "Mom, I'm Bored".

Need more boredom busters? Check out the links on Rocks in My Dryer's Works For Me "Mom, I'm Bored" Edition.

Random Meme

Last week Llama Momma tagged me with a "6 Random Things" meme. And since I'm feeling a bit random today, I thought I'd answer it. So here you have six random things about me:

1. The first rock concert I saw was Kool & the Gang. My dad was kind enough to take my best friend and I. His hearing has never been the same.

2. Prior to that I'd been to multiple folk concerts. I remember being so bored sitting through those with my parents - mainly a series held at the YMCA. These days I actually choose to listen to folk music. So something must have worked!

3. I sew one Halloween costume each year. I have three daughters, but only one gets a new homemade one. The others either have to shop our costume closet or convince me to get one at the store (that isn't totally cheapy-cheapy).

4. I wear long underwear from October to April (or May, depending on the weather. Last week I was actually wearing my fleece lined jeans for the third grade field day outdoors at school - and I needed them).

5. I played the flute for nearly ten years before taking private lessons. Today LMH starts learning to play on that very same flute. If she sticks with it we won't make her wait quite that long to get private lessons.

6. I have never been out West besides a ski trip to Colorado and a few visits to California. One of these years we'll take the kids so I can see what I've been missing.

There ya have it. I'm not tagging anyone, but if you feel so led to do this meme - then consider yourself tagged.

Shairing

When I was in high school one of my close friends had Alopecia, a disorder that causes the hair follicles to just shut down. It wasn't something she talked about, even to me. And I only remember one time where her mother took me aside and referred to it rather obliquely. Consequently I didn't have a clue about why my friend's hair was seeming to thin more and more.

Some kids made fun of her hair - not to her face, that I know of. But this specter of being somewhat outcast hung around her. I wish there was more that I could have done. I wish I had known what it was about. Instead I did all I knew to do - I kept being her friend.

Those thoughts filled my mind last night as I sat in a salon watching Little Miss History get her long hair cut off. She donated it to Locks of Love so that some young girl, like my friend, wouldn't have to face the jeers and rejection brought on by a disorder for which there is no cure. I am proud of LMH. After a moment of shock at seeing how short it left her hair, she vowed to go back to growing it to donate a second time.

Here's a visual of what LMH did:

Before: A fish tail braid for our Memorial Day BBQ.

After: a new 'do!

I am so thankful for Locks of Love and the great work they do. Oh, and that friend of mine? She's a beautiful, confident mom of two...who happens to wear a wig.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Warm weather has FINALLY arrived in Chicago. I've been gearing up for it the past couple of weeks - gearing up in the literal sense of plotting out my three girls' clothing for the next season. Mind you, this is no small undertaking.

First there's all the trying on of last year's stuff (because they need to be convinced that their favorite t-shirt/dress/pair of shorts definitely does not work anymore. That's followed by all the shifting from closet to crawl space and retrieval from crawl space to closet. Hand-me-downs are great, except for all the work it takes to store them and then find them again later.

And then there's the big trip to Kohl's with (hopefully) our extra 15-20-30% off coupon. And a trip to Target for whatever we missed at Kohl's. Plus maybe a Gap run and... Let's just say it's a lot more shopping than I ever care to do at one time. But you do what ya gotta do.

So we completed that whole process this week (for the most part). And today when the hot weather arrived, I was one satisfied mom, smug in the knowledge that I'd made the transition in time...until I went into my own closet. I must say that we seemed to have had a particularly hot and humid winter because all my clothes seem to have shrunk. Especially my shorts and capris, along with a skirt or two, which don't seem to be working that well for me any more. But I am determined that the wardrobe shift is done. There will be no more shopping trips or digging in the crawl space. There is only one solution for me.

Must...fit...into...shorts...

Lazy Days?

There's something wrong with staying in bed until 6:30am and calling it "sleeping in". But try telling that to my husband.

Now it's nearly 8am. I've had breakfast and gotten dressed. Time to hurry off to Home Depot and beat the rush of weekend gardeners to get my annuals.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be totally decadent and sleep until 7am!

Midnight Comes Too Soon

With her love for all things royal, it's no wonder that the Uber-Princess locked on to this Steven Curtis Chapman song, Cinderella. It's a poignant song about seizing those moments with his daughters before they're all grown and it touches me every time I hear it. And today, learning of the tragic death of his five-year-old princess, Maria Sue, I know I won't ever hear this song again without tears. Join me in praying for the Chapman family as they grieve their loss.

Endings

Our school year will be wrapping up next week. Already. I'm not yet prepared for the summer schedule, but I'm getting excited for it to be here. The Musing Family is going to have some fun. We're going to learn some new things, see some new things, and spend a lot of time enjoying old, familiar things.

Today, however, marks the beginning of another end. As of next Sunday I will no longer be coordinating our church nursery. I've begun completing some final tasks and handing off materials and duties. Today I sent out my final team email and I'll attend one last meeting.

Two years ago I stepped up to take the position of nursery coordinator. Little did I know what the job would entail. I enjoyed teaching the two-year-olds. I appreciated the care my daughter had received in the nursery. And I had a vision of what could be for that part of our church. But nobody warned me of the stresses of the job: recruiting a team for one of the least thankful roles (changing diapers? No thanks!); scheduling and staffing when the number of kids is increasing and the number of available adults is shrinking; watching parents arrive with their kids on Easter Sunday when the only volunteers that you have to work with are your own children.

There have been the joys too: seeing a child run into their classroom because they're so excited to be there (that would be a two-year-old, NOT a baby), watching a weary mom heave a great sigh of relief as you give her a one-hour break free of charge, listening to your team members get to know each other and connect in different ways.

It's been an interesting ride, this job of coordinating the early childhood wing. If given the choice I'd do it all again. But I'm not sad to pass it along. I'm more than ready. After this I'm going to have some fun - try new things, see new things and enjoy some old familiar things. Summer may not arrive for a week (or three), but my vacation starts this Sunday and I'm packed and ready to go!

Youthful Exhuberance

"I--(put your finger there for a space)--A--M--(finger again)--S--O--(put your finger down)--E--X--C--I--T--E--D--(okay, go down a line)--F--O--R--(finger space)--Y--O--U--(finger down)--T--O--(move down again)--H--A--V--E--(leave room)--A--(now a space)--B--A--B--Y".

I dictated this morning for the Uber-Princess to write a note to her Aunt who announced to her nieces two days ago that she is going to have a baby. Our children aren't great phone conversationalists, so their reactions to her were subdued. But since then the excitement in our house has been palpable. The Uber-Princess's note is accurate.

Actually the Uber-Princess came hopping into the room as soon as I hung up with her aunt. And she proceeded to do a happy dance, complete with a little tune. Then for the rest of the morning/day all conversation revolved around the coming baby.

Uber-Princess:"Will we have to buy diapers for the baby?"

Me:"No, your aunt and uncle will do that?"

Her: "Can we take care of it?"

Me: "I hope so... when it visits."

Her: "Let's buy something for the baby!" (points to every baby related thing we see in the next three stores we enter).

The excitement is understandable, especially with the Uber-Princess. All of her cousins are older than her - WAY older. This will be the first time she can be the older person. So naturally she's excited, not only to hold and cuddle, but also to teach and train. And I'm excited too. It will be lots of fun to welcome a new baby in the family (and not be the one getting up in the night with it).

Now if October 31st would just hurry up and get here!

Sincerely, Mayla

Sincerely, Mayla is Virginia Smith's sequel to her novel, Just As I Am where readers are introduced to quirky, independent Mayla Strong. I wish I'd read that one first, because I get the feeling that knowing the pre-conversion, purple-haired Mayla of Just As I Am would have made me appreciate even more the challenges and changes she goes through in this sequel. Yet Sincerely, Mayla is written well enough to allow it to stand on its own.

Mayla is a single (and unattached) young gal whose life is thrown a curve ball when she loses her office job to her boss's associate-degreed niece...but not without receiving a severance package. At her roommate's suggestion Mayla uses the extra funds and freedom to pay a visit to her estranged grandmother and aunt in Florida. And she leaves behind more than just a job search, but also a stray rabbit that irritates her roommate, an embarrassing crush on her once-oblivious pastor, and a strangely stressed friendship with her gay neighbor. Or at least she thinks she's left these behind. Instead these problems and more find her in Florida.

Mayla is a very real character who handles some of the big issues of our times with both compassion and faith. Yet she also stumbles along and makes mistakes. One of the things I enjoyed most about this book was watching Mayla come to grips with her own sinful habits and seeing her deal with them in ways that are true to life and not holier-than-though or otherwise oversimplified.

The only thing this book could have done differently would have been to make me worry more. There were one or two hints at what the outcomes of some of the problems would be that stood out too much. A "smile playing at the edges of her mouth" after a big fight told me it would all be fine. I didn't want to know that. I would have preferred to worry a bit longer about whether things would be okay.

The grit and quirkiness of Mayla's character propels the story along and makes Sincerely, Mayla an enjoyable book. So put it on your summer reading list. And then hope that Ginny Smith will bring us another episode in Mayla's life. As for me, I'm off to find a copy of Just As I Am.

Coming This Week: Virginia Smith Blog Tour

Later this week I'll be posting a review of Virginia Smith's new book, Sincerely, Mayla. You can check out other reviews of her book by following the blog tour links at her publisher, Kregel Publications.

So stay tuned...

Please Pray for Leslie

A young mom at our church has been having an incredibly tough year. She was diagnosed with cancer last Fall. And every time it seems like she's going to do well, something new has come up to complicate things further. Yesterday there was more bad news.

I've been praying and praying, in every quiet moment of my day. But it has always felt like such a pitiful thing in face of the giant challenges facing her. Today it seems even more so. So I'm asking, will you please, please pray for Leslie. Here is her story, starting almost near the beginning.

Please pray.

Awkward Situations

Newbie. We're all there many times in our lives. And some of those times are more awkward than others. That's when it helps to have the advice of someone who has gone before you, who has more experience. I witnessed two people in the last week go through this in circumstances with which I was totally unfamiliar. I don't know which is worse, being the newbie or watching a newbie and not being able to help. So, in light of these two people's situations in particular, I'd like to learn. Somehow though, I don't think I'm going to learn by firsthand experience. That's where you come in. If you know the answers to these dilemmas, please share.

Awkward Situation #1:
You have a cleaning person in your house. Do you follow them around? Do you work ahead of them picking up and putting away? Or do you retire to your couch with a cup of tea and some bonbons and snuggle up to the remote to watch daytime tv?

Awkward Situation #2:
You're spending a day at a spa. What do you wear to get there? Do you really wear those foam flip-flops to drive home? Should you try to make conversation with the nail technician? What about your masseuse?

Clearly I am not going to be struggling with any of these issues any time in the near future. But I hope I have friends who will. And wouldn't it be nice to be able to tell them that "I'm pretty sure you shouldn't chat on your cell phone while getting a facial"?

Thanks for your help.

Works For Me - Birthday Party Games

Each year we host our children's parties at home. It's old-fashioned maybe, but I've never been able to justify spending $100 and up to have someone else do it for me...until this year. I finally decided that I was getting tired of all the work of planning and organizing games. So I offered to my girls that they could have the option of going somewhere like the bowling alley or Pump It Up (inflatables place). They would have none of that! They wanted a party at home. So it was back to planning and organizing.

But two things happened this year for Little Miss History's ninth birthday that made it a walk in the park for her dad and I. Number 1: she planned it all - at least the order and timing of things. Number 2 - her dad found a great website of party games.

We actually had fun just reading through the University of Illinois Extension's list. It brought back great memories of when we were at the University of Illinois and spent Friday evenings with our InterVarsity group playing a lot of these games. Have you ever heard of King Elephant? Instructions are there. How about Wink'um or Honey, I Love You? They've got those too. And there's an Orange game on there, using an orange and pantyhose, that I've never played but it sounds hilarious. There are other tips on this site, but unless you're hosting teen/preteen parties, you probably won't need them.

So armed with a handful of games from the site and her trusty schedule, LMH pretty much ran her own party while her dad and I chatted in the kitchen (okay, I ran the craft and he helped with games...but it was nothing near the work we'd done in years past). I'd say it Works For Me.

For other Works For Me Wednesday posts, head on over to Rocks in My Dryer today and check out the list.

Half Way

Little Miss History turns nine today. Maybe that number doesn't seem so momentous. It's not a decade, like ten. Or new teen, like thirteen. But to me it marks a big point in my journey as her parent. We have hit the half way mark. In nine more years she'll be preparing to graduate from high school and head off on her own, hopefully to college, definitely into adulthood.

So I've been cataloging and calculating:almost 10,000 meals fed to this child and close to that many nightly tuck-ins. I've bathed and dressed and diapered her countless times. She's learned to sleep through the night, eat big people food, walk, talk, skip, do the monkey bars, jump rope. She knows her ABC's and 123's and the length of her small intestines. She can read (and does so voraciously) and write. She makes her bed and her lunch and her sisters mad. She's learned the importance of kindness, respect, honesty, forgiveness.

And there's where I see the bend in the road. She has learned the practical things of life, how to count by two's and tie her shoes. Now more and more will the lessons of these second set of nine be those of the heart, shaping her morals and values. We've given her many of those foundations, but she'll begin now deciding whether to use them. And even though I'll still be here to teach and correct, it will depend even more on what I model, however imperfectly I do that.

It inspires prayer, age nine. It was hard work, physically, to get her this far. To finish well will require hard work emotionally. Am I ready?

We Need a Dog!

"Come on, Wiggles. Let's go for a ride!" Timid Daughter climbed on her bike after gently placing Wiggles into the pouch on the front of her bike.

Wiggles is her new pet. Wiggles goes for rides on her bike, climbs trees with her and generally hangs out. He has a comfy home she's make for him in a plastic container with holes in the lid, dirt and grass in the bottom and a handle for portability. Wiggles is your garden variety pet, but that doesn't mean he's typical. He's anything but typical.

That's because Wiggles is a worm.

The other day my kids offered to help me in the garden, with selfish motives. They wanted to dig for worms. So I let them clear out the weeds and keep whatever worm(s) they found. They were ecstatic.

Little Miss History named hers Crackers and was momentarily freaked out during a climb in the tree with him when she'd thought he'd fallen from the tree limb she'd placed him on. I was afraid he'd become bird food. But she found him, safe and sound a few inches from where she'd left him.

The pet worms happily occupied my girls for an entire afternoon. I'm not sure where they are today (hopefully NOT in my house). And I can't help but wonder what the girls will do in a few days when their "pets" have come to the end of their days.

And in all of this the biggest question that comes to mind is: is it time to get a dog?

Culinary Travelogue (NYC)

Okay, I'll admit it, I can't stop thinking about the incredibly delicious chocolate frosted, chocolate buttermilk cupcake I had from Magnolia Bakery on Columbus Avenue. Wow! I'm not a big cupcake fan, except for kid parties where it makes total sense. But Magnolia makes them completely acceptable for big people.

Only problem is, Magnolia Bakery is located in New York City, not Naperville. Which I guess I should see as a blessing. If they were located here I'd be bound to balloon a dozen pounds or so. Regrettably (or not, for the same reason), I only got to try them once, on the last night we were there. Perhaps if I'd known how good they were, I would have at least brought home a dozen - in a box, on my lap, on the plane. It would have been worth it. And I might have even shared them with my family so they could experience the bliss.

I also can't stop wondering if there are any chocolate shops in Naperville that make a good thick, Italian hot chocolate like the one I had at Max Brenner's. It was a dark hot chocolate with steamed milk. As thick and rich as it was when steaming fresh, it only got thicker (and richer) as it cooled. After many sips and much analysis, my mom and I decided the only thing that came close to describing it was that it's like drinking chocolate pudding. Really delicious chocolate pudding.

Like Magnolia Bakery, there is no Max Brenner's here. But we do have Ethel's Chocolate Lounge. And something tells me there was a new chocolate place that just opened downtown. But do I dare go there to see if they make Italian hot chocolate? Could my waistline survive it?

My sweet tooth is not so fierce as this post would make it seem. My experience with sweets in New York City was just that over-the-top good. Oh, and the Thai food was good (albeit hot enough to fry off my tongue even though I'd asked for a milder version), the seafood was excellent and the bagels unbeatable. New York style pizza though? I just don't get it. The whole folding it in half to eat it and all. We had mediocre pizza (my fault for getting my sister to try a place close to her apartment). It was floppy and overloaded with toppings. Give me Chicago style - thick crust or deep dish. And I'll take an Italian hot chocolate with that and a Magnolia's cupcake for dessert.

Travelogue-NYC

We are having fun here in New York City. I'm not sure how many miles these feet have logged, but we've been seeing quite a bit.

A few observations about New York from a Chicagoan:
-garbage on the curb. Took me a day or so to figure out that without alleys behind the buildings, the only place to put the garbage is the curb. It's not that bad, but it makes me appreciate how clean Chicago looks.
-no bums or panhandlers. Where are the homeless folks? In Chicago, as soon as you step off the train at Union Station you're greeted by people asking for money. And just about every street you go down, you'll see at least one or two. I think I've seen one in the past three days. Makes walking around here feel more relaxing and less interrupted.
-public transportation here is excellent. We've ridden in a cab a few times only because my sister was tired of the subway. It's fast, clean and gets you around everywhere.
-the hustle and bustle is so exciting, invigorating even. The streets (sidewalks) are full of people, but it rarely feels crowded.
-very tourist-friendly. I've never hesitated to stop and take a picture. There are always people doing that, practically everywhere. I was surprised at how much picture-snapping was going on in SoHo. In Chicago we always notice the tourists, because they're staring upward and they're around in bunches. New York? Tourists make up a decent portion of the public.
-celebrity sightings. They're rare in Chicago. But in New York it seems like it's just a matter of keeping your eyes open. Now I don't watch much TV or see many movies, so chances are I could be standing shoulder to shoulder with a celebrity and not know it. My sister was the one who noticed Hilda from Trading Spaces while we were in SoHo yesterday.

Any New Yorkers care to give their take on Chicago?

I Love Public Transportation

I just wish there was more of it available here in the suburbs. If I wanted to, I could get into and all around the city of Chicago by simply walking across the street and hopping on public transportation. But to get to the grocery store or the doctor or the library I have to drive or ride a bike, or walk.

I'm thinking of this now because of a trip my girls and I took into Chicago last week during Spring Break. I had asked what they wanted to do over break and they listed four things, two of them being "go to American Girl Place" and "ride the train". So I combined those into one trip.

We had a blast! We got on the train by their grandma's house and rode into Union Station. From there I had found a bus to take us up to American Girl. I was a little nervous about navigating the bus and all with three kids. But we did some prep talks beforehand and everybody was set. On the return trip on the bus I stopped to pay our fare and when I turned to my kids they were already seated at the very back of the bus as if they'd done it every day of their lives.

When our day was over, I asked what their favorite part had been. The answer? The bus and the train! They had enjoyed the adventure as much as I had. I felt so energized and empowered by the fact that we'd made the trip without incident. Pretty goofy, huh? Shows how sheltered this suburban mom's life is.

Question is, am I up for the big time now? I'm traveling to New York City tomorrow for a girls' weekend with my mom and sister. And since sis lives in Manhattan, we'll be doing the public transportation thing all weekend. Woo hoo! Bring it on, I say!

Now if I could just find a way to ditch the minivan once I get back home!

Fun For a Gray Day

It's dreary outside and too quiet in. Our houseguests departed this morning after six days with us and it's noticeably different in our house. Not that they were noisy, but I notice their absence after having them here for that amount of time. And given that our doggy houseguest arrived just before they did and also left today, it is a bit of an adjustment.

So what to do on this rainy day in March when we're on Spring break? Well, following the headline news in our local paper today, we're searching for report cards and hoping for a break in the weather to cash in on the girls' good grades (maybe breakfast at Wendy's tomorrow).

Spaghetti Sauce & Chocolate Milk & Red Jello - Oh My!

The other night one of my daughters got spaghetti sauce on one of her favorite shirts. She immediately began to cry. And it's all my fault. You see, I'm terrible at laundry. I make sure to sort darks, lights (I call them mediums, as in pink, and in our house they make up the bulk of our laundry) and whites. I also sort them into warm and cold, which baffles my husband, but it's what the tags say so I do it. And I search for stains and dutifully spray treat them.

But half of those stains never come out. Even if I scrub the stain spray in, no matter what brand, the stains stick. Chocolate for instance, particularly chocolate milk: that never, ever comes all the way out. Nor does red spaghetti sauce. Or mud. Sometimes even red jello leaves behind it's mark.

Which makes dinnertime a stressor for my kids. I'm thinking I should just designate "eating clothes" for everyone and let them enjoy meals again. I try not to moan or gripe or harangue them (although chocolate milk spills nearly send me over the edge every time). But they know my lack of laundering ability. When they slop on a treasured piece of clothing, they're aware it may be that way forever.

It makes me feel like a bad mom. After all, what are my primary duties? Feeding and clothing my family. Cuddling and reading. And when I can't properly perform one of those jobs, well it just makes me feel bad.

So I'm making an apeal: just what on earth does it take to get chocolate milk out of a shirt? Any hints? Any?

A Long, Hard Day

Today it has been tough going. I woke up in pain from my right shoulder (the one I injured two years ago). This happens to me from time to time. It starts as a stinging ache and builds to a burning background roar. From past experience I know it will continue all day. Maybe it will travel to my other shoulder. Probably it will go into my wrists. I can still move, still talk, still do everything like normal, but slower and more haltingly.

On days like today I start off with an Advil. But like today, it usually doesn't help. So I take another a little bit later. And often still other until the pain is dulled to a whisper. I don't go to the doctor. What will she say? "Take an Advil", probably. There's nothing actually wrong with me. The pain will be gone tomorrow or maybe the next day. But for today it's here, distracting me. Occasionally I will forget about it and then wonder why I am on the verge of tears. All day I am on the verge of tears.

It's so tiring too. And it's hard not to get snippy or short with my children. I haven't today and I'm glad for that. Of course they'll be home soon. And there's a chance I'll get that way then, although I always hope not, always try not.

The pain makes me think of other people I know. People with real illness, real disease, real pain. A friend with rheumatoid arthritis comes to mind and I pray for her, glad that she has medicine that helps her condition. My fingers go cold and then numb from pain shooting down my arm and I think of someone from church battling a crippling, life-threatening disease. I pray for him, for healing, for mobility.

It's a hard day, a tiring day. I'll be glad for tomorrow. I'll be glad for the chance to wake up pain free. But I'm also glad for the chance to learn a little more compassion, to see a glimmer of what others go through day after day, to pray a heartfelt prayer for healing and comfort on someone else's behalf. It's a hard day, but not a wasted day. And when the next day of pain comes for me I hope that it will be profitable too.

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." Romans 5:3-5

Schools' Rules Schmools

Today was kindergarten round-up...for the Uber-Princess's friends; not for her. And I feel like it was one of those days of no turning back. You see, her birthday is 9 days after the official cut-off. So she must spend another year in preschool (or at home) and wait to be five the day she starts kindergarten. This shouldn't bother me. Many moms of July and August babies fret over them being the youngest in their class and the challenges that brings. The Uber-Princess won't have those problems. However, I anticipate other problems, like, say...boredom.

Here's an example from today of why I worry about this. As I was tucking her into bed for her nap she was commenting on being four-and-a-half (we marked this milestone about a week and a half ago with the ditching of her blankie, because "four-and-a-half-year-olds are big girls"). Then she announced that she could count to four and a half.

To which I replied, "really?"

So she demonstrated. "One, one-and-a-half, two, two-and-a-half, three, three-and-a-half, four, four-and-a-half!"

Need I worry?

Oh, and right before that she was working with our magnetic fridge letters, trying to find the one that says "whuh" as in "Wildcats". Now we have a Fridge Phonics toy that lets you insert the letters and says the sound they make aloud. So she inserted a few until she got to "W". But the fact that a four-and-a-half-year-old cares to learn the letter that starts "Wildcats"? And yesterday she counted to 112, with a few prompts. Need I worry?

I realize kindergarten readiness is composed of more than just academics. So let's see: she dresses herself, feeds herself, separates easily from mom, plays well independently, plays well with others... Now, I don't think she's overly brilliant. Sharp? Yes. Bright? Yes. On target to join other kids the age she'll be nine days after the cutoff? Definitely.

I've been told though, that the rules are the rules. No exceptions are made. No testing will be allowed, no looking at individual cases. So I quickly dropped my thoughts of championing her "early" admittance. And today another door was closed.

God has it all under His control. My daughter's birthday was decided long ago. And God knew the rules of the school she'd be attending. I will enjoy, truly enjoy this extra year with her at home more. I just hope she enjoys the year(s) following that.

Passion Week Meditation: Betrayed

My children and I are reading day by day the story of the week that Jesus went to the cross. Today we read about Judas being paid off to betray Jesus. On my own I'm reading meditations on the Stations of the Cross and started with number one this morning: the Garden of Gethsemane, which ends with the arrival of Judas to betray Jesus into the hands of His killers.

I went through my morning routine with those thoughts on my mind and it brought me back to a time in eighth grade when my best friend betrayed me. Here's how it went. We were at a "boy-girl" party, the kind where the entire class is invited (and shows up). The kind where some kids hang out playing pool or cards or something like that. By eighth grade the match-ups were going strong. This one was "going out with" that one, although it didn't seem like they ever actually went anywhere. It was more of an identity thing, a bit of prestige, depending on who you were paired up with.

My "best friend" took me off to the side during this party and asked me who I liked. Now, I was no dummy. She'd shown herself to be less than trust-worthy before. I was not about to reveal my true crush. So I named a boy in the class that I could care less about, that was currently "dating" a girl I couldn't stand. What could my friend do with that information? And what did I care?

Sure enough my friend scooted away a short time later and returned with the-girl-I-couldn't-stand. "You like Danny?", she asked. Then she continued, not waiting for my response, "well we're not going out any more. And I think he likes you too. He wants to ask you out. He's in the other room, waiting". She gave me a sly smile. My friend stood behind her looking as though she'd swallowed the Cheshire Cat. I rolled my eyes and played along.

I don't remember what happened after that. But I do remember coming out of the situation more triumphant than not. I'd known the betrayal was coming and so I'd been able to script it. Most of the sting was gone. Yet knowing I'd been chosen as the object of junior high trickery still hurt. To have a "friend" who'd behave so callously? It made me angry...and sad.

I wonder about Jesus. He knew, long beforehand, that Judas would betray Him. Yet He let Judas into His circle of friends. He acted on trust toward him. And I'd almost say that He scripted His betrayal too. But the scene in the Garden beforehand shows otherwise. It was His Father's plan and it grieved Him to know how it would go. But He chose to follow it through. His betrayal, even though He knew it was coming, hurt. It hurt a lot. It was part His being fully human.

As we approach Good Friday and then Easter, remember this: we have a Savior who knows the hurt we feel because He has felt it Himself. Even more, think of His love that He knew everything He would endure and still did it - for us!

Getting it right ... again

(Overheard today in the Musing Household)

Little Miss History to Uber-Princess: Do you want to be a teacher when you grow up?

Uber-Princess: No. I want to be a princess. (surprise, surprise!)

LMH to Timid Daughter: Do you want to be a teacher?

Timid Daughter: No!

LMH: Well, what do you want to be?

TD: I want to be a mom!

LMH: Well, I want to be a teacher. (Stops to think for a moment).
A teacher AND a writer AND a mom.

Uber-Princess: I want to be a princess and a mom!


All I can say is, it warms my heart. They all want my job!

Getting it right...maybe

Parenting at times seems so much like a bunch of guesswork. Sure, we've taken classes and formulated our ideas of how we want to parent (allow little or no tv but lots of reading, be involved in their school & sports, encourage good behavior, correct for bad...). But more often than not we find ourselves in that grey area (tv during illness? is tattling always "bad"?). And so it seems hard to gauge whether we're doing a good job or not as parents. "You're the best mom in the whole wide world" lets me know what my kids think (and oh, am I so very grateful to hear those words because they often come when I feel less-than-deserving). And compliments from strangers when we're out in public seem to second that. But...

There's all the day to day in's and out's. It's having to do the job of counselor, mediator, accountant, boss, and nurse, without any qualifications for any of them, that I get hung up on. Many times my husband looks at a situation ('cuz many times that's what we have in our house - "situations") and has a different take. Which makes me glad for a partner in this, but also makes me wonder about all the decisions I make (and possibly screw up) while he's gone.

Today though. Today I got something right. You see, yesterday and today our Timid Daughter awoke with pain in her calves. And yesterday she managed to hobble off to school. But this morning she crawled to my room to ask for help because it was too painful to even stand. So I trundled her back to bed with some ibuprofen, then later woke her for breakfast (and carried her down to it) and afterwards put her in a warm bath. After calling her in sick at school I got a heating pad going under her legs while we waited to hear from the pediatrician. Thankfully the pediatrician saw us right away. The diagnosis: myositis (inflamation of the muscles) caused by a virus she had over the weekend. And the blessed doctor prescribed (get this): ibuprofen three times a day, warm baths, and heat applications to her legs.

In my mind I was pumping my arms up and down saying, "Yes! Yes!". For once my instincts proved right. So do you think I'll trust myself any better when the next dilemma comes in...oh, a couple of hours?

My Really Interesting situation

I squeeze my eyes closed, arms crossed over my chest as I'm propelled into the machine. Air blows across my body and I attempt to slow my breathing by sucking in large gulps. I am trapped. Thick tape binds my feet together and my hips are strapped down to the table on which I lay. And now, inside this small tube of a tunnel, I can barely move my arms. I lay there, keeping still. If I can just do that long enough... A voice, tiny and distant echoes into the tube, "Can you hear me?". I answer back that I can. Then there is silence.

Back to my breathing. I notice it too much. It's too fast, too hard. So I try to slow it down again. But it just gets harder the more I notice it. Think on something else, I tell myself. Then the voice issues a warning and the loud noises begin. Very loud. First a few pops, then a series of clangs and bangs, more and more of them, some faster, some slower. There are plugs in my ears, but that doesn't matter. It's still loud. My thoughts jump around. Breathing too fast. Don't open eyes. Don't move. Too small. Too tight. I'm trapped. I swallow hard and suddenly my throat feels scratchy. On the right side. It itches more. And then more. I swallow, trying to sooth that itch. I swallow again. Then as the banging stops I begin to cough and to choke. The voice comes again, "Are you okay?". I answer with more coughs. "I'll bring you water", the voice responds.

Moments later the table shifts and I glide out of the tunnel, opening my eyes to see the gentle smile of the technician and then the bottle of water in her hands. I sit up as much as I can and take a few gulps. Then I lay back again and close my eyes as the table glides me back into place. There will be more loud noises, pops and hisses. This time my breathing will settle and my mind will gain focus for the time that remains. No more coughs, no more itches. Just vibrations and strange sounds. Just the passing of time in slow motion, where fifteen minutes feels like hours.