playing in the snow?! Yup. While out driving yesterday, we saw two young boys happily playing in a large pile of snow. We've had so much snow and cold in recent weeks that despite several days of spring-like warmth the ground is still somewhat frozen and those big mounds made by snowplows are remain pretty big.
My girls spent most of the afternoon out riding their bikes, drawing with chalk on the driveway and climbing in one of our smaller trees. My husband took advantage of the warmth to go throw a couple of rounds of disc golf (too mushy on the course for us to join him though). In fact, it seemed like most of our fair city was drawn outdoors by the hints of spring yesterday.
But these two boys fascinated me most. I was kind of jealous. I don't ever remember being able to play in the snow without being all bundled up and freezing my nose and toes. Yet there they were: no coats on, enjoying a sunny, warm day, building things with snow.
I hadn't noticed any snow before I saw those boys. Then I began paying attention. They hadn't found the lone snow pile in Naperville. There were others. Sure most of them were dirty, but they were there, largely being ignored by walkers and bikers, kids on swings and slides. We're all quick to rush onto the next season.
One thing about our culture is the penchant for the newest, latest, greatest things to come on the scene. But maybe sometimes it's good to savor the last bits of the old things, the old seasons, before they're gone, before we're just reminiscing about how it "used to be". In another few months we'll be missing the snow, but we still have the chance today to see it and touch it and enjoy it.
Now if I can just find a carrot and that old top hat...
Monday, March 12, 2007
Friday, March 09, 2007
Unanchored
I've recently begun reading Ruth Haley Barton's Invitation to Solitude and Silence. It seems especially appropriate for the Lenten season since I'm more in the mode for reflection anyway. And I'm finding that Barton has a lot to say that speaks to my life. She shares how in the midst of a hectic and busy schedule as a mom, church staffer and seminarian she found herself floundering spiritually. When she finally sought the help of a spiritual director, this is how that director summed it up: "Ruth, you are like a jar of river water all shaken up. What you need is to sit still long enough that the sediment can settle and the water can become clear".
That image has stuck with me. I'm in much the same boat. Busy with home and work, church and hobbies, I rarely take time to sit unless I'm reading or eating. And those things don't bring an inner stillness.
So I've been starting to practice silence, trying to learn to still my body, my thoughts, and perhaps eventually, my soul. In that practice a new image surfaced that describes my current inner state: a boat, unanchored and adrift in open water. Oftentimes recently I've found myself wandering my house, lighting on one task briefly, then drifting on to another. My days sometimes lack focus and purpose. The unsettled river water keeps the boat drifting. All the more reason to continue practicing silence. My soul needs that settling. And in some ways I don't think the concept is not too much unlike the idea of fallowing that L.L. Barkat has suggested on her blog.
Is your soul anchored? Or are you adrift?
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf." Hebrews 6:19-20a
That image has stuck with me. I'm in much the same boat. Busy with home and work, church and hobbies, I rarely take time to sit unless I'm reading or eating. And those things don't bring an inner stillness.
So I've been starting to practice silence, trying to learn to still my body, my thoughts, and perhaps eventually, my soul. In that practice a new image surfaced that describes my current inner state: a boat, unanchored and adrift in open water. Oftentimes recently I've found myself wandering my house, lighting on one task briefly, then drifting on to another. My days sometimes lack focus and purpose. The unsettled river water keeps the boat drifting. All the more reason to continue practicing silence. My soul needs that settling. And in some ways I don't think the concept is not too much unlike the idea of fallowing that L.L. Barkat has suggested on her blog.
Is your soul anchored? Or are you adrift?
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf." Hebrews 6:19-20a
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Homemade Chalk Boards
I've been wanting to share this new project for a while. I created several small kitchen chalkboards, for myself and for birthday gifts. They were very easy and lots of fun to make. And if you make your own chalkboard paint they're also quite inexpensive.
To create them I took a 2'x4' sheet of hardboard and cut it into 5 1/2"x 7 1/2" pieces on a table saw (actually A Musing Dad cut them down. I mostly watched). Then A Musing Dad helped me round the corners using his router and I beveled the edges slightly using a sander. You don't have to do the rounded corners and if you don't have a saw I believe hardware stores offer a cutting service where you give them the measurement and they cut it for you (don't know if there is a fee involved). So fear not if you don't have big power tools. You can still do this project.
Next you'll need to mix up your paint. You can find formulas on the internet under chalkboard paint, but the basic idea is you mix up colored acrylic paint (not latex), with powdered tile grout and a glazing medium (used for creating faux finishes). I only worked on small areas so I didn't mix much at a time. It works well to mix it up in an old margarine container because then you can seal the container between coats. This way the paint lasts up to two days.
Now paint your surface. I only painted the front of the board with chalkboard paint because the surface of the back is just too rough. I found a painting sponge to work better than a brush. The brush leaves too many marks. Let it dry for at least a half hour. Then sand with a fine grit sand paper to remove any extra bits of grout and recoat. When you're finished, rub across the surface with a piece of chalk to "prime" it.
I bought small plate stands at a craft store to stand them on. As you can see from the photo you can also paint terracotta pots for labeling windowsill herbs (or just for using as a small container or pen holder).
For more ideas like these and other information on creating inexpensive gifts and decorations, check out the new book, Pampering Gifts: Crafting a Ministry of Treating People Well For Less.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Repeat After Me
Over the past few days I've been learning the truth of an old Russian saying I'd forgotten: "repetition is the mother of learning" (of course in the Russian language it's a much more lyrical saying, but it's still worth repeating in English). I've seen it's value in more than one area:
Math: believe it or not, after only a few short days Little Miss History is becoming much more proficient at her subtraction facts. It just took a lot of drilling over and over and over, but enough repetitions and it began to stick.
Scripture memory: I've only got one verse to go and I'll have gotten all of Deuteronomy 6 down. My secret? I carry laminated verse cards in my purse. Then when I'm out and about I pull them out. Stop lights are good times to read them over. Then while driving I just repeat them out loud over and over until I get to the next light. Second-hand benefit? My kids end up learning along with me, whether they want to or not. They're a captive audience.
New skills: There's nothing like doing the same action over and over again to learn a new skill. For example, Musing Dad took Little Miss History skiing a couple of weeks ago. This is an annual tradition for them. Good father/daughter bonding time. This year after a 2 hour class with lots of up and down repetition on the slopes LMH had actually gotten the hang of really skiing, turning both directions and slowing down if she needed to. For further practice she and Musing Dad took the fast lift up and did a few runs down the green hill together, up and down. But then Musing Dad took her up and let her go down on her own while he did a couple of black runs on his own. Musing Mom's reaction when she learned this afterwards? Musing Dad, repeat after me: "I will not send a seven-year-old down the ski hill alone. I will not send a seven-year-old down a ski hill alone. I will not...".
Math: believe it or not, after only a few short days Little Miss History is becoming much more proficient at her subtraction facts. It just took a lot of drilling over and over and over, but enough repetitions and it began to stick.
Scripture memory: I've only got one verse to go and I'll have gotten all of Deuteronomy 6 down. My secret? I carry laminated verse cards in my purse. Then when I'm out and about I pull them out. Stop lights are good times to read them over. Then while driving I just repeat them out loud over and over until I get to the next light. Second-hand benefit? My kids end up learning along with me, whether they want to or not. They're a captive audience.
New skills: There's nothing like doing the same action over and over again to learn a new skill. For example, Musing Dad took Little Miss History skiing a couple of weeks ago. This is an annual tradition for them. Good father/daughter bonding time. This year after a 2 hour class with lots of up and down repetition on the slopes LMH had actually gotten the hang of really skiing, turning both directions and slowing down if she needed to. For further practice she and Musing Dad took the fast lift up and did a few runs down the green hill together, up and down. But then Musing Dad took her up and let her go down on her own while he did a couple of black runs on his own. Musing Mom's reaction when she learned this afterwards? Musing Dad, repeat after me: "I will not send a seven-year-old down the ski hill alone. I will not send a seven-year-old down a ski hill alone. I will not...".
Friday, March 02, 2007
Happy Birthday, Musing Dad!
Yes, it's Musing Dad's birthday today. I hope he realizes that he's one of the luckiest dads around. After all, how many dads get their own boy Polly Pockets for their birthday? He's guaranteed hours of fun playing with the Uber-princess now (at least that's what she's hoping).
Today is a virtual holiday in our house. Musing Dad was wise enough to take off work (especially since the girls have a break from school). We've already showered him with gifts and have plans for dinner at Famous Dave's tonight. Between now and then Musing Dad is allowed to do whatever he fancies. He's thinking of repairing our broken garage door opener, which is a fitting enough way for him to spend his birthday.
A little about Musing Dad that makes him so lovable: he loves Jesus, wrestles honestly with tough topics instead accepting everything he hears by rote, and works harder than anyone I know at whatever project he's given (except maybe painting because he just doesn't like to do it). He's a brilliant guy and a handyman to boot. In our nearly eleven years of marriage he has built and repaired hundreds of things: rolling appliance cart for our pantry/kitchen, pinewood cars with our girls and a beautiful wood shelf for me, among them. He's replaced lights and plumbing, done drywalling, and has probably tackled every kind of home repair project possible.
So raise a hammer in honor of Musing Dad! Happy Birthday, hon!
Today is a virtual holiday in our house. Musing Dad was wise enough to take off work (especially since the girls have a break from school). We've already showered him with gifts and have plans for dinner at Famous Dave's tonight. Between now and then Musing Dad is allowed to do whatever he fancies. He's thinking of repairing our broken garage door opener, which is a fitting enough way for him to spend his birthday.
A little about Musing Dad that makes him so lovable: he loves Jesus, wrestles honestly with tough topics instead accepting everything he hears by rote, and works harder than anyone I know at whatever project he's given (except maybe painting because he just doesn't like to do it). He's a brilliant guy and a handyman to boot. In our nearly eleven years of marriage he has built and repaired hundreds of things: rolling appliance cart for our pantry/kitchen, pinewood cars with our girls and a beautiful wood shelf for me, among them. He's replaced lights and plumbing, done drywalling, and has probably tackled every kind of home repair project possible.
So raise a hammer in honor of Musing Dad! Happy Birthday, hon!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Math, Math, Math
Ugh! Little Miss History is having trouble learning her math facts. And I have no idea how to effectively help her. We do flashcard drills. No dice. We try worksheets. No go. I set her up on the computer doing games and problem sets. But she doesn't get it.
This is reason number two why I haven't considered homeschooling my children (beyond the summer months). My daughter has no desire to be taught by me. I have no idea how to reach her. We both end up incredibly frustrated.
Here's the thing: she's got to learn them. I'm not sure she even understands that part. She works her hardest to just get through the drills or worksheets, but never puts any effort into actually learning. And she also doesn't seem to get that it's just a matter of memorization (which she's good at). She constantly counts in her head instead. It's slow, but she gets to the correct answer and as long as it's not a speed drill then she's fine. Guess what? At this point in the school year it's all about speed.
The thing about this is, she's a bright girl. Most things come easily to her. So actually I'm glad she's hit a wall as early as second grade. It's easier to figure out how to work at learning now than to suddenly face it in high school or college. At least I think it is for her. Just not for me.
This is reason number two why I haven't considered homeschooling my children (beyond the summer months). My daughter has no desire to be taught by me. I have no idea how to reach her. We both end up incredibly frustrated.
Here's the thing: she's got to learn them. I'm not sure she even understands that part. She works her hardest to just get through the drills or worksheets, but never puts any effort into actually learning. And she also doesn't seem to get that it's just a matter of memorization (which she's good at). She constantly counts in her head instead. It's slow, but she gets to the correct answer and as long as it's not a speed drill then she's fine. Guess what? At this point in the school year it's all about speed.
The thing about this is, she's a bright girl. Most things come easily to her. So actually I'm glad she's hit a wall as early as second grade. It's easier to figure out how to work at learning now than to suddenly face it in high school or college. At least I think it is for her. Just not for me.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
I'm in Business
officially speaking. In another small step on the long journey to launching my book, I drove to the county clerk's office today, paid my five dollars and set up my freelance writing & publishing business.
It was one of those milestones in life that arrive without fanfare. It was mildly reminiscent of the day I walked into that same clerk's office to get a marriage license. That day I was accompanied not by my three-year-old daughter, but by the love of my life. I was awed by the process. As we submitted forms with our place of birth and date and place of marriage, I remarked to future Musing Dad that we were creating geneaological records. Someday long after that, once we'd been personally forgotten, maybe someone would look at those papers and recall the marriage of these two people from whom generations had been descended.
It wasn't as starry-eyed an experience this time of course. The uber-princess let out periodic squeals as she played her GameBoy while leaning against my leg. The clerk had to reinput the data a couple of times. And I got a paper filled with legalese on my next steps to getting my business certificate.
But as I drove home I dreamed of what the future could be for my business. Someday I might be selling hundreds of books while traveling around giving talks. I'd have a healthy portfolio of corporate clients. I'd be a regular contributor to a magazine or two. I'd be getting my kids off to school and going into my home office to work on writing my novel until they arrived home at the end of the day.
And then I pulled my car in the drive, helped the uber-princess into the house and shelved the official business forms so I could move the laundry into the dryer.
It was one of those milestones in life that arrive without fanfare. It was mildly reminiscent of the day I walked into that same clerk's office to get a marriage license. That day I was accompanied not by my three-year-old daughter, but by the love of my life. I was awed by the process. As we submitted forms with our place of birth and date and place of marriage, I remarked to future Musing Dad that we were creating geneaological records. Someday long after that, once we'd been personally forgotten, maybe someone would look at those papers and recall the marriage of these two people from whom generations had been descended.
It wasn't as starry-eyed an experience this time of course. The uber-princess let out periodic squeals as she played her GameBoy while leaning against my leg. The clerk had to reinput the data a couple of times. And I got a paper filled with legalese on my next steps to getting my business certificate.
But as I drove home I dreamed of what the future could be for my business. Someday I might be selling hundreds of books while traveling around giving talks. I'd have a healthy portfolio of corporate clients. I'd be a regular contributor to a magazine or two. I'd be getting my kids off to school and going into my home office to work on writing my novel until they arrived home at the end of the day.
And then I pulled my car in the drive, helped the uber-princess into the house and shelved the official business forms so I could move the laundry into the dryer.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Lenten Memory Challenge
When was the last time you memorized something? High school? College? You can't remember?
I'm continually working on memorizing something. It's usually a chapter of the bible. This school year I'm working on Deuteronomy 6. I'm on verse 22 now actually. If you want to test me on this and you know me personally, go ahead, ask. If you can stand to listen that long, I'll recite the first twenty-one verses for you.
Now, it's not that I'm a "super-Christian" or Bible geek. I just happen to have connected with a good system for doing this. The mom's group I'm in has a "Scripture Memory Challenge". Every month during our season calendar (October through May) we have a chance to recite from one of two chapters of the bible. For every three verses we say correctly, we get to fill out a ticket for a drawing. And every month a name is drawn and the winner gets to choose a free book off the book table.
There are a couple of good things about this that make it work so well:
How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to your word.
I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands.
I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.
Psalm 119:9-11
Haven't figured out yet what you want to do for Lent? How about a 40-day memory challenge? Try to work those three points into your plan: find someone to ask you how it's going; work on a short passage, adding a verse every couple of days and do so for the whole 40 days (or however much is left now); and finally, plan an Easter reward for yourself for completely memorizing what you've chosen.
Are you with me? I'm still working on Deut. 6, but by Easter I plan to be to the end of the chapter and maybe on to Ephesians 5. Need suggestions for what to work on? Just ask. Let me know too if you're taking my challenge.
I'm continually working on memorizing something. It's usually a chapter of the bible. This school year I'm working on Deuteronomy 6. I'm on verse 22 now actually. If you want to test me on this and you know me personally, go ahead, ask. If you can stand to listen that long, I'll recite the first twenty-one verses for you.
Now, it's not that I'm a "super-Christian" or Bible geek. I just happen to have connected with a good system for doing this. The mom's group I'm in has a "Scripture Memory Challenge". Every month during our season calendar (October through May) we have a chance to recite from one of two chapters of the bible. For every three verses we say correctly, we get to fill out a ticket for a drawing. And every month a name is drawn and the winner gets to choose a free book off the book table.
There are a couple of good things about this that make it work so well:
- accountability: I know every month when I go to the meeting I have an opportunity to recite (or not).
- long-term repetition: any one can memorize a short piece for a short time. But repeating the same thing over 8 months time puts it in to long term memory. I can still recite large parts of James 1 and it's been over a year and a half since I finished working on it.
- goal incentive: that possibility of a free book is a major enticement for me. It keeps me going beyond learning just an extra verse or two each month to at least three.
How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to your word.
I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands.
I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.
Psalm 119:9-11
Haven't figured out yet what you want to do for Lent? How about a 40-day memory challenge? Try to work those three points into your plan: find someone to ask you how it's going; work on a short passage, adding a verse every couple of days and do so for the whole 40 days (or however much is left now); and finally, plan an Easter reward for yourself for completely memorizing what you've chosen.
Are you with me? I'm still working on Deut. 6, but by Easter I plan to be to the end of the chapter and maybe on to Ephesians 5. Need suggestions for what to work on? Just ask. Let me know too if you're taking my challenge.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Smallness of Scale Meets the Toy Closet
I have a very busy three-year-old. She's always on the move. I give her something to play with and instruct her where to play. And she'll do that, for about thirty seconds or however long it takes me to turn my back to do something else. Then she's off for somewhere else, dragging toys with her. After only a half hour there can be scads of toys all around the house: Polly Pockets in the living room, Build-a-Bears in the den, puzzles in the kitchen and my daughter nowhere to be seen.
Once I track her down it's a major process to get it all put away. But we do and I go back to "here is your toy for now, play here". And she quietly resumes playing in the specified area. Then quietly she creeps away again, dribbling toys behind her like a little Gretel. I follow the childhood ephemera to her new location. And we go through the cleanup again.
I struggled with how to solve this for a few days. First I'd warn her that whatever toys were left unattended would be confiscated. But then my bedroom began to look like a Toys'RUs. Not a good solution. Finally I realized that a big source of the problem was the large amount of toys she has access to.
My daughter has too many choices in the area of toys. And so she chooses many, not just a few. To her the toy closet represents an all-you-can-eat buffet and she's ready to gorge. And the consequences stretch beyond just messes in the house to her ability to focus and her ability to accept boundaries, among other things. We're beginning to make changes.
I can't donate or sell all the excess toys. My husband doesn't care for that. He's good at re-purposing items which means they need to be kept "just in case". Plus in the toy arena there are a lot of hand-me-downs from the uber-princess's older sisters that she has yet to grow into or grow out of. But there's still way to much for any three-year-old to play with.
So I gutted the closet. The excess is still in the guest room, looking for a new home away from little hands. It's a work in progress to be sure, but the first reaction from her timid roommate sister was "that looks great, Mom!". Toys that had been neglected in the chaos are being re-found. The mess is...well, it still manages to spread across the house in the uber-princess's wake. But we're getting there. I may need to think even smaller scale.
P.S. Happy Birthday to my mother-in-law!
Once I track her down it's a major process to get it all put away. But we do and I go back to "here is your toy for now, play here". And she quietly resumes playing in the specified area. Then quietly she creeps away again, dribbling toys behind her like a little Gretel. I follow the childhood ephemera to her new location. And we go through the cleanup again.
I struggled with how to solve this for a few days. First I'd warn her that whatever toys were left unattended would be confiscated. But then my bedroom began to look like a Toys'RUs. Not a good solution. Finally I realized that a big source of the problem was the large amount of toys she has access to.
My daughter has too many choices in the area of toys. And so she chooses many, not just a few. To her the toy closet represents an all-you-can-eat buffet and she's ready to gorge. And the consequences stretch beyond just messes in the house to her ability to focus and her ability to accept boundaries, among other things. We're beginning to make changes.
I can't donate or sell all the excess toys. My husband doesn't care for that. He's good at re-purposing items which means they need to be kept "just in case". Plus in the toy arena there are a lot of hand-me-downs from the uber-princess's older sisters that she has yet to grow into or grow out of. But there's still way to much for any three-year-old to play with.
So I gutted the closet. The excess is still in the guest room, looking for a new home away from little hands. It's a work in progress to be sure, but the first reaction from her timid roommate sister was "that looks great, Mom!". Toys that had been neglected in the chaos are being re-found. The mess is...well, it still manages to spread across the house in the uber-princess's wake. But we're getting there. I may need to think even smaller scale.
P.S. Happy Birthday to my mother-in-law!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
February Pampering
Whew! I was glad to see this month's pampering stuff finally get done. I've had clipboards in various stages on my dining room table for at least a month now. Plus 5 of us made 500 notecards. And then there's the 110 beaded pens, and 12 altered clipboards. That was a lot of work! I wouldn't recommend doing so much work, but it certainly turned out looking good. Here are instructions for our "Retro-Chic Office" theme.
Retro-Chic Desk Set
one altered clipboard (see instructions on Nov. 8th post)
one faux leather "in-box"
one plastic magnetic clip holder
one beaded pen (see instructions below)
set of four notecards (see instructions below)
Organize all of the desk items in the center of the table. We stacked the clipboard on the in-box and then placed the clip holder next to the clipboard and the pen and notecards on top of the clipboard (see photo above).
Retro-Chic Correspondence Set
micro "seed" beads
red-liner tape (we used ProvoCraft's Terrifically Tacky Tape)
stick pen
glitter
embossing tool
patterned paper
die-cuts
note cards and envelopes
glue
To create the beaded pen: wrap the red tape around the end of the pen (or you can continue wrapping down the length of the pen to bead it entirely). Remove the outer wrap on the tape and heat both the tape and beads with the embossing tool (take care that you don't melt the pen). Roll taped end of pen in beads, pressing beads in place and manually adding more beads to empty spaces. Dip beaded end of pen into glitter (we used red and black beads and then dipped in red glitter). Tap off excess. Allow to set up overnight before transporting.
To create note cards: Cut squares of paper to fit front of note card (1/4" smaller than note card front). Glue paper onto fronts of some cards. Punch out die cuts and glue to fronts of other cards - we used large retro fabric flower die cuts on some cards and pairs of retro fabric button die cuts on others. We also used flower punches of the patterned paper with brads in the center and on some cards we glued tiny real buttons with the die cut buttons. Be creative (and efficient if you're making 500). We tied sets of four note cards together with ribbon and tucked the pens under the ribbon on top of the note cards.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Happy Birthday, Mom!
I realize the day is almost over already. We got in at dinnertime from an overnight at a waterpark hotel. But I don't want to miss the opportunity to wish my mom a Happy Birthday here in the blogosphere (I did tell her in person this afternoon).
Here's one of my favorite stories about my mom:
Many years back, before ceiling fans became ubiquitous in most homes, my parents decided they wanted to buy one for the kitchen. They'd been out shopping, but my mom got stuck on the issue of how many blades the fan should have: four or five. Then at church she happened to notice the fans spinning overhead. They looked nice, but how many blades did they have? She stared and stared, trying to count the moving blades. Finally she turned to my sister (who had to have been about nine at the time). "How many blades are on the fans?", she whispered. My sister looked up and quickly answered, "five". Mom was shocked at her speedy answer. "How do you know that?" she asked. "Just blink real fast when you're looking at them," my sister answered. Mom tried it and it worked. She wondered if my then seven-year-old brother knew the same trick, so she asked him the question too. "How many blades are on the fans?". My brother responded even more rapidly, "five". This blew Mom away. "How did you know that?", she asked again. My brother pointed toward the back of the church and whispered, "because that one's turned off".
Thanks for making us laugh, Mom! We love you! And you know what? The mother's curse worked on me. I'm always doing the same kinds of things to make my husband and kids laugh too. Hope you had a wonderful day!
Here's one of my favorite stories about my mom:
Many years back, before ceiling fans became ubiquitous in most homes, my parents decided they wanted to buy one for the kitchen. They'd been out shopping, but my mom got stuck on the issue of how many blades the fan should have: four or five. Then at church she happened to notice the fans spinning overhead. They looked nice, but how many blades did they have? She stared and stared, trying to count the moving blades. Finally she turned to my sister (who had to have been about nine at the time). "How many blades are on the fans?", she whispered. My sister looked up and quickly answered, "five". Mom was shocked at her speedy answer. "How do you know that?" she asked. "Just blink real fast when you're looking at them," my sister answered. Mom tried it and it worked. She wondered if my then seven-year-old brother knew the same trick, so she asked him the question too. "How many blades are on the fans?". My brother responded even more rapidly, "five". This blew Mom away. "How did you know that?", she asked again. My brother pointed toward the back of the church and whispered, "because that one's turned off".
Thanks for making us laugh, Mom! We love you! And you know what? The mother's curse worked on me. I'm always doing the same kinds of things to make my husband and kids laugh too. Hope you had a wonderful day!
Saturday, February 17, 2007
No More Pizzas. Only Noodles.
Public schools are getting more boring all the time. First it was no treats with nuts sent for special occasions. This is understandable. And only store bought, packaged treats, not homemade in case the psycho mom had thoughts of poisoning her child's class. Next it was no nut products in individual kids' lunches (what?! No peanut butter? The staple of a grade schoolers lunch?? I called them about it, after all, my daughter needs to eat. They relented since the kids with allergies sit at a separate table).
Then this year they started cracking down on sweets. No candy or any other food treat is to be sent to school for Valentine's Day or other holidays. Gotta take measures to prevent obesity! Thankfully the room moms are still allowed to coordinate treats for the whole class for parties. It's just that kids can't bring any in addition to those, which is fine by me. I'm waiting though. Pretty soon the party treats will go from being cupcakes or donuts to apples or something healthy. In my mind, that kind of negates the concept of "party" and "treat". Obviously you don't want your kids eating those kinds of things every day. But on a special occasion?? Isn't that why it's called a "treat"?
But that's not all. There's even more. Yesterday my daughter came home to reveal the change that broke the proverbial camel's back for this mom. She told me, "My very educated mother just served us noodles." NOODLES??? Who wants noodles? When I was a kid "My very educated mother just served us NINE PIZZAS."! These scientists have taken things too far! Why can't my kids have nine pizzas, even if they're "dwarf" pizzas? Why do they have to be served noodles? Any thoughts?
Then this year they started cracking down on sweets. No candy or any other food treat is to be sent to school for Valentine's Day or other holidays. Gotta take measures to prevent obesity! Thankfully the room moms are still allowed to coordinate treats for the whole class for parties. It's just that kids can't bring any in addition to those, which is fine by me. I'm waiting though. Pretty soon the party treats will go from being cupcakes or donuts to apples or something healthy. In my mind, that kind of negates the concept of "party" and "treat". Obviously you don't want your kids eating those kinds of things every day. But on a special occasion?? Isn't that why it's called a "treat"?
But that's not all. There's even more. Yesterday my daughter came home to reveal the change that broke the proverbial camel's back for this mom. She told me, "My very educated mother just served us noodles." NOODLES??? Who wants noodles? When I was a kid "My very educated mother just served us NINE PIZZAS."! These scientists have taken things too far! Why can't my kids have nine pizzas, even if they're "dwarf" pizzas? Why do they have to be served noodles? Any thoughts?
Friday, February 16, 2007
February Pampering
Whew! I was glad to see this month's pampering stuff finally get done. I've had clipboards in various stages on my dining room table for at least a month now. Plus 5 of us made 500 notecards. And then there's the 110 beaded pens, and 12 altered clipboards. That was a lot of work! I wouldn't recommend doing so much work, but it certainly turned out looking good. Here are instructions for our "Retro-Chic Office" theme.
Retro-Chic Desk Set
one altered clipboard (see instructions on Nov. 8th post)
one faux leather "in-box"
one plastic magnetic clip holder
one beaded pen (see instructions below)
set of four notecards (see instructions below)
Organize all of the desk items in the center of the table. We stacked the clipboard on the in-box and then placed the clip holder next to the clipboard and the pen and notecards on top of the clipboard (see photo above).
Retro-Chic Correspondence Set
micro "seed" beads
red-liner tape (we used ProvoCraft's Terrifically Tacky Tape)
stick pen
glitter
embossing tool
patterned paper
die-cuts
note cards and envelopes
glue
To create the beaded pen: wrap the red tape around the end of the pen (or you can continue wrapping down the length of the pen to bead it entirely). Remove the outer wrap on the tape and heat both the tape and beads with the embossing tool (take care that you don't melt the pen). Roll taped end of pen in beads, pressing beads in place and manually adding more beads to empty spaces. Dip beaded end of pen into glitter (we used red and black beads and then dipped in red glitter). Tap off excess. Allow to set up overnight before transporting.
To create note cards: Cut squares of paper to fit front of note card (1/4" smaller than note card front). Glue paper onto fronts of some cards. Punch out die cuts and glue to fronts of other cards - we used large retro fabric flower die cuts on some cards and pairs of retro fabric button die cuts on others. We also used flower punches of the patterned paper with brads in the center and on some cards we glued tiny real buttons with the die cut buttons. Be creative (and efficient if you're making 500). We tied sets of four note cards together with ribbon and tucked the pens under the ribbon on top of the note cards.
For more ideas like these and other information on creating inexpensive gifts and decorations, check out the new book, Pampering Gifts: Crafting a Ministry of Treating People Well For Less.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Snowed Out
They canceled school today. We stayed home. My children took turns looking out the windows at our back gate, watching the snow drift higher and higher.
"We can't get out that way," pointed out my eldest. Then a few hours later she went out to play in the yard and discovered the wind had hollowed out an area just inside the gate. It left enough room for her to squeeze out the gate into the field. Once she squeezed out she squeezed quickly back in, as if worried she might get trapped on the wrong side.
She and her sister had fun ducking behind the mound of snow - their little hideaway. I imagine it must have been cozy; protected from the wind.
When I was a kid we had a big snowfall one year. Or maybe it was a bunch of big snowfalls. I remember my mother cut a path into our back yard and when she finished the piles of snow were above her head on either side. Along the driveway the piles were massive (to my young eyes). Suddenly the terrain in our yard in the Land of Flat held some interest. My sisters and I dug tunnels and caves and trudged paths up hills and smoothed slides down them. We led expeditions of our friends through the yard, naming the moutainous peaks, pointing out special valleys.
Every winter after that paled by comparison. If there weren't mountains of snow to explore, then it was a bore.
I pictured that winter as I watched my children trudge and duck, exploring our snowy yard. Bring on the snowstorms! Pile up the snow! I want to explore!
Monday, February 12, 2007
"Manners for Minors"
Can you believe that's what they call the class I sent my daughters to this weekend? I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe that it would be a rush job in refinement. I imagined a subtitle: "Four hours to a proper young lady". Western Suburbs meets My Fair Lady. Bring on the debutante ball!
Okay, so they're only five and seven years old. But it's never too late to start. Right? So off to class they went. I trundled them into the local living history museum early on Saturday morning, visions of them with pinkies in the air sipping tea with the docents, puffing my brain. "Imagine it's like Felicity's tea lessons," I said. "You'll learn about being proper gentlewomen." Maybe I shouldn't have. After all, it's not fair to set their expectations too high.
Their reaction when I picked them up afterwards: "borrringgg!"
Imagine that! They were bored by learning the do's and don'ts for proper behavior in modern American society, including cell phone etiquette!
Well, actually I can imagine it. Even if it did take place at eldest daughter's favorite museum (she already has plans of becoming a junior interpreter when she's in fourth grade), it was still a class on manners. And finding out that courtesy requires effort can be a jolt. Especially in the current climate of our culture where familiarity is king and "casual" is the reigning attitude. It takes discipline to consistently behave in the best fashion. My guess is that that is the reason politeness has fallen out of favor.
Now for a confession: that class was merely a pretext to getting some time to myself. You see, my husband went away for the weekend to a conference. And I'm not used to lengthy tours of duty as a mom. So I shipped the older two off to class for a few hours, gifted the uber-princess to her grandparents for the morning and headed to the local scrapbooking store where I had some blissful time alone. The girls thought the class was boring? That just shows me that I have some work to do on teaching them the value of others. They need to know the reasons behind the manners. In the meantime, I not only survived a weekend as a single parent, I actually enjoyed it! (Kudos to all you moms who live this, week in and week out, with traveling husbands. I admire your stamina.)
Okay, so they're only five and seven years old. But it's never too late to start. Right? So off to class they went. I trundled them into the local living history museum early on Saturday morning, visions of them with pinkies in the air sipping tea with the docents, puffing my brain. "Imagine it's like Felicity's tea lessons," I said. "You'll learn about being proper gentlewomen." Maybe I shouldn't have. After all, it's not fair to set their expectations too high.
Their reaction when I picked them up afterwards: "borrringgg!"
Imagine that! They were bored by learning the do's and don'ts for proper behavior in modern American society, including cell phone etiquette!
Well, actually I can imagine it. Even if it did take place at eldest daughter's favorite museum (she already has plans of becoming a junior interpreter when she's in fourth grade), it was still a class on manners. And finding out that courtesy requires effort can be a jolt. Especially in the current climate of our culture where familiarity is king and "casual" is the reigning attitude. It takes discipline to consistently behave in the best fashion. My guess is that that is the reason politeness has fallen out of favor.
Now for a confession: that class was merely a pretext to getting some time to myself. You see, my husband went away for the weekend to a conference. And I'm not used to lengthy tours of duty as a mom. So I shipped the older two off to class for a few hours, gifted the uber-princess to her grandparents for the morning and headed to the local scrapbooking store where I had some blissful time alone. The girls thought the class was boring? That just shows me that I have some work to do on teaching them the value of others. They need to know the reasons behind the manners. In the meantime, I not only survived a weekend as a single parent, I actually enjoyed it! (Kudos to all you moms who live this, week in and week out, with traveling husbands. I admire your stamina.)
Friday, February 09, 2007
Lessons from an Exoskeleton
I wrote this essay a couple of years ago, but Craver's post about a spider prompted me to get it out, dust it off and share it with you.
I have three daughters. They love Barbies and princesses and dress-ups. And bugs. The kind that creep and crawl. They like seeing them up close and watching them for long periods. I, however, do not. I try to stay as far away as possible. When presented with a particularly interesting (read "gross") specimen to view in magnified glory under the bug viewer, I attempt to hide my disgust long enough (because I want to be a "good mom") to give an interested impression. Then I hurry off to brush away all those creepy-crawly sensations.
But I realized recently in my entomophobia I'm missing opportunities to teach my children. Not just about the eating habits of slugs, but about life. And death. And maybe even other things.
One backyard find was what my husband called an "exoskeleton". I called it "yucky". It was a crusty, bug-shaped shell, that, from my preferred viewing distance, actually looked like the real thing. But it wasn't. And therein was a source for so many lessons.
Like a lesson on our bodies and how, like the shell, they're only a temporary home. Or how we see something and think we know what it is until we get a little closer to really inspect it (a lesson on not judging others, perhaps?).
So maybe I shouldn't be so quick to run from their shudder-inducing insect finds. Maybe I should be beside them mining our backyard for teaching materials...Then again, I might just stick to safer indoor subjects. After all, bugs make for good Daddy/daughter bonding. Don't you think?
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Terrible Towels
Back in December when I was musing about contentment I mentioned some towels I was wanting for Christmas to replace my shabby old ones. I actually got those towels from my mother-in-law. So now I have these beautiful egg-plant/blue/red patterned towels that match my kitchen very well. They're micro-fiber (the new "in" material for whatever reason) and cost much more than the run-of-the-mill kitchen towel. In every way perfect except for one: they don't dry!
Now who out there would invent (and sell) a towel that doesn't actually get things dry??? I'm serious about this. You take that towel, wipe a wet pan with it and all that happens is the water gets smeared around. Pan:still wet. Towel: still dry. Something is wrong here. So there my towels hang, draped on the oven handle. They look pretty. But they do nothing. Knowing what they cost I have a hard time throwing them away. Yet I try not to use them for fear of frustrating myself.
It makes me think of something Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount: "You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men." (Matthew 5:13).
If I had to draw a response to the Sermon on the Mount, I might draw a picture of my towels to remind me not to lose my purpose. Are you doing what you were created to do? Or have you lost your "saltiness" or become a towel that won't dry?
I haven't thrown out those old towels. They may be stained and full of holes, but they still get the dishes dry. And in the end, that's what counts.
Now who out there would invent (and sell) a towel that doesn't actually get things dry??? I'm serious about this. You take that towel, wipe a wet pan with it and all that happens is the water gets smeared around. Pan:still wet. Towel: still dry. Something is wrong here. So there my towels hang, draped on the oven handle. They look pretty. But they do nothing. Knowing what they cost I have a hard time throwing them away. Yet I try not to use them for fear of frustrating myself.
It makes me think of something Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount: "You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men." (Matthew 5:13).
If I had to draw a response to the Sermon on the Mount, I might draw a picture of my towels to remind me not to lose my purpose. Are you doing what you were created to do? Or have you lost your "saltiness" or become a towel that won't dry?
I haven't thrown out those old towels. They may be stained and full of holes, but they still get the dishes dry. And in the end, that's what counts.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Dental Diet
When I went to the dentist in December to have my teeth cleaned with a special new method they have, I had no idea what I was in for. Said cleaning came with special mouthwash ("rinse for thirty seconds, don't swallow water after. Avoid eating for several hours after rinsing or risk totally unpleasant taste."). It also required a three-month prescription for this drug (don't ask what it really does. It has something to do with improving gum tissue health). The drug instructions? Must be taken twice a day, one hour before or two hours after eating. That eliminates 6 hours of snacking daily, provided I remember to rinse before taking the medicine. Otherwise it's more like 8 hours.
Next I was in for a return visit to the dentist that resulted in a crown (my first ever - why does that make me feel so old? Shouldn't I be feeling regal instead?). So for three weeks I'm stuck with a temporary and instructions to avoid: hard raw fruits and veggies, hard rolls, tough meats - steak, ribs, Italian beef (!), bones & fruit pits (which has me really bummed - I enjoy a good crunchy bone now and then), hard chips like tortillas, popcorn, hard and chewy candies, gum, pizza, granola bars, nuts & seeds, and finally ice. All those things banned from my diet. Right before Super Bowl Sunday!
Oh, and don't chew on that side of your mouth, they tell me. The side I usually chew on because the other always hurts too much. Right. I get it though, because it actually hurts worse to chew with the temporary.
So where does that leave me? Six to eight of my waking hours with no food and the rest with soft stuff that I can only half eat (or eat only halfway. With half my mouth. You get the idea). I'd been looking for a way to shed a couple extra pounds, but I wasn't expecting it to happen this way. So if you've tried all the latest fad diets and they haven't worked, maybe you just need to pay a visit to your dentist.
Next I was in for a return visit to the dentist that resulted in a crown (my first ever - why does that make me feel so old? Shouldn't I be feeling regal instead?). So for three weeks I'm stuck with a temporary and instructions to avoid: hard raw fruits and veggies, hard rolls, tough meats - steak, ribs, Italian beef (!), bones & fruit pits (which has me really bummed - I enjoy a good crunchy bone now and then), hard chips like tortillas, popcorn, hard and chewy candies, gum, pizza, granola bars, nuts & seeds, and finally ice. All those things banned from my diet. Right before Super Bowl Sunday!
Oh, and don't chew on that side of your mouth, they tell me. The side I usually chew on because the other always hurts too much. Right. I get it though, because it actually hurts worse to chew with the temporary.
So where does that leave me? Six to eight of my waking hours with no food and the rest with soft stuff that I can only half eat (or eat only halfway. With half my mouth. You get the idea). I'd been looking for a way to shed a couple extra pounds, but I wasn't expecting it to happen this way. So if you've tried all the latest fad diets and they haven't worked, maybe you just need to pay a visit to your dentist.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Rollerskating
Believe it or not, we took our kids rollerskating this weekend. After the ice skating fiasco I was a little hesitant. But hubby was going with us this time so I felt reasonably assured we could make a decent go of it. Plus it was family night for all the kids in the Awana program my girls go to. If the rollerskating bombed at least there'd be friends to hang out with.
Guess what? We had a blast. All three girls left the rink begging us to take them again next year. It helped that it wasn't cold and when they fell they didn't get wet.
Of course timid daughter number two spent the first half hour sitting on a bench refusing to stand up. No amount of coaxing or bribery would get her on her feet. I gave up and her father took over with the gentle suggestions, appropriately timed. Finally she agreed to inch her way around on the carpeted area next to the rink. Fifteen minutes later she graduated to creeping a few feet along the rink before stepping out again. I figured that was all she'd ever do.
Cut to my three-year-old uber princess: she plunged out onto the rink almost immediately (holding my hands only at the start). Once I got her to the safety of the center of the rink she really got into things. Within a few minutes she was dancing up a storm, jumping, shaking her booty and waving her arms; generally just cracking me up. My eldest came over to watch and commented, "It's more fun watching her skate than skating myself." I agreed. And I couldn't help looking wistfully at timid daughter, wishing she'd join us.
I managed to get in a few quick loops of the rink on my own too. Not as fun for me as on ice, but enjoyable. Good exercise, I figure. I had just finished one of those loops and was going to check on timid daughter when I spotted her crossing the rink to the center, being gently guided by the uber princess who was sweetly holding her hand. What her father and I had failed to do in forty-five minutes, her little sister accomplished in two seconds. I wish I'd had my camera to capture that. Once her sister got her out onto the rink, the timid one managed to actually move around some and have fun.
I'm so glad my daughters have each other. And I'm glad I have them.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
18" Doll Shoe Organizer
Here are the instructions for the fabric shoe organizer that I promised:
Supplies
5/8 yard cotton fabric (can use canvas too but is stiffer to work with) 1/8 yard medium to heavyweight fusible interfacing thread two large (1/4") eyelets/grommets
1. Cut fabric for back panel 9 1/4" wide by 25 1/2" long (these dimensions are for hanging inside the door of a doll closet).
2. Cut 4 strips for pockets 5" high by 15 3/4" wide.
3. Cut 2 pieces of interfacing 1 3/4" x 9". Fuse to top and bottom of back panel according to manufacturer's instructions.
4. Sew 1/4" hem along sides of back panel. Then hem top and bottom of panels by folding over 2" and stitching 1/4" from unfinished edge. (Hemming the back panel in this order leaves you open pockets along the top & bottom for putting a rod through. If you wish to eliminate this pocket, hem top first, then sides).
5. Hem each pocket top with 1/2" doubled hem (turn under 1/2", press. Then turn under again and stitch).
6. Hem bottom of each pocket 1/4".
7. Iron creases into pockets as follows (creating a "Z" effect):
1 1/2" from outside edges on both sides - press to front
2 1/4" from outside edges on both sides - press under (to back)
6 1/4" from outside edges on both sides - press under
7" from outside edges on both sides - press to front
8. Pin pockets to front at following spots, matching centers and folding ends over outside edge of back panels to back:
Pocket 1: 1 3/4" from top
Pocket 2: 6 3/8" from top
Pocket 3: 10 3/4" from top
Pocket 4: 15 1/4" from top
9. Stitch outside edges of all pockets to back panel 1/4" from edge of back panel (leaving z-folds of pockets free). and again 1/8" away.You can see here that the pockets are stitched on the sides but not yet on the bottoms:
10. Stitch down center between pockets
11. Stitch across bottom of each pocket 1/4" from edge, making certain pockets are folded down.
12. Apply eyelets having centers of each 7 1/4" apart and 7/8" from top of panel. Follow manufacturer's instructions for applying (this is based on placement of hooks at 7 1/4" apart. You may need to refigure placement of eyelets based on your own hook placement.
Here you can see the finished organizer hanging from the eyelets.
You can also make a French Memo board to go on the door.
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