Friday, March 26, 2010

A story...

I do love this story.  I read it again today and felt I simply had to share it.  Funny, I have never cried in a movie in my life (though while pregnant I admit I was a mess over a sears commercial) but books?  Stories?  They can stir me in a heartbeat.  I think I am just so aware that the movie is being portrayed by actors.  That what is happening is not real, and because it is not real I see the attempt to stir me emotionally as manipulation.  I do not like being manipulated, therefore my scarcely contained rebellious spirit refuses to cry or show emotion in any way.  I have only so much emotional energy to give, I will not spend it on something that has no real purpose.  But books? Stories?  I don't feel manipulated - you see, those characters are far more real to me then any actor on a screen will ever be.

Keep reading below, I posted a story from my childhood.  Oscar Wilde is perhaps best known for being controversial in character (didn't he go to prison for indecent acts with another man?  I can't remember exactly and I am to lazy to look it up at the moment) but I can't read this story and not cry.  I can't.  There is such beauty, beyond anything that a simple man could produce.  This story had to have been divinely inspired.  And look at the man he used!  I guess it just goes to show, no matter who you are, God can use you.  He is still using Mr. Wilde in my life to bring joy, hope and faith. 

I have decided I shall occasionally post short stories that have meaning to me.  Either for life or for that particular day...some days deserve a story to punctuate them properly!  Stories make up so much of all that is around us.  Everyone has one, or twelve...  I love hearing people's stories, they always make the person more real.  You know, some people are just not as real as others, their colors are not as bright, their lines not as distinct.   Some days I feel fuzzy about the edges, and some I feel very pointed and sharp.  I suppose most other people have fuzzy and sharp days as well...but I always feel that the better I get to know someone, the sharper they become.  I guess you have to get to know what is normal for someone.  And that way, when things are brighter or fuzzier it gives you an idea of where they are currently in life.  When a neon friend walks in the door and his/her vibrant hues are reduced to mauve or dusty pink then you know something is wrong. 

(Not that there is anything wrong with dusty pink, which is why you need to know what is normal.  I have had dear friends that are naturally a very lovely shade of dusty pink - so just the same with them if they walk in the door looking a bit over-bright you can be sure something is amiss.) 

I believe today I am a rather burnt orange color.  Not sure why, that is just how I am feeling today.  Feelings make way more sense to me when they are placed within a color category.  Some days I am a wispy blue or a deep chocolate brown.  Others I feel decisively pink, or perhaps a pale pale green.  Today I am burnt orange. Interestingly, I rarely wear the color I am feeling.  I believe it is too obvious, and although I am aware that the average person does not see color in quite the same way I do...I still feel the need to be more discreet. 

I have often said that I believe Easter should be a bigger deal then it is.  After all, this is when we celebrate Jesus coming back, saving us.  Sure, Christmas is wonderful...had he not been born the whole dieing thing might have been a tad more complex...but in my head Easter should be at least as big a deal, if not bigger...and it isn't, and that bothers me.  The entire month of December is devoted to Christmas, (again, not bashing Christmas, just using it for comparison) there are countless songs written, houses are lit up, parties are thrown, etc. etc.   But what does Easter get?  A few isles of candy at the store, bunnies, eggs and one day where we nod our heads and listen to a sermon telling a story of a man who loved us so much he gave everything.  He suffered beyond what most of us could imagine, he died so we could live, gave more then I can fathom...and the easter bunny gets the credit for the baskets!     Then he rose from the dead, proving once and for all that He Is God.  And sure, we get dressed up.  We spend a day with family and eat good food...but it never feels like it is big enough.  So starting now I pledge to be aware, to make a big deal.  I am reading stories of Easter to my children.  We will talk about it, do crafts, bake cookies and remember.  I am not asking for more commercialism - but I want my kids to know just how huge this day really is, the magnitude of what it represents. 

And this afternoon, we will start with this:

The Selfish Giant

The Selfish GiantOscar Wilde

Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant's garden.
    It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. 'How happy we are here!' they cried to each other.
    One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden.
    'What are you doing here?' he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.
    'My own garden is my own garden,' said the Giant; 'any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.' So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.
    He was a very selfish Giant.
< 2 >
    The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside.
    'How happy we were there,' they said to each other.
    Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. 'Spring has forgotten this garden,' they cried, 'so we will live here all the year round.' The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. 'This is a delightful spot,' he said, 'we must ask the Hail on a visit.' So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.
    'I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,' said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; 'I hope there will be a change in the weather.'
    But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant's garden she gave none. 'He is too selfish,' she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.
< 3 >
    One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King's musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. 'I believe the Spring has come at last,' said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.
    What did he see?
    He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children's heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. 'Climb up! little boy,' said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the little boy was too tiny.
    And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. 'How selfish I have been!' he said; 'now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever.' He was really very sorry for what he had done.
< 4 >
    So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became Winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he died not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant's neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. 'It is your garden now, little children,' said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were gong to market at twelve o'clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.
    All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.
    'But where is your little companion?' he said: 'the boy I put into the tree.' The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.
    'We don't know,' answered the children; 'he has gone away.'
    'You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,' said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.
    Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. 'How I would like to see him!' he used to say.
    Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. 'I have many beautiful flowers,' he said; 'but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.'
< 5 >
    One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.
    Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
    Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, 'Who hath dared to wound thee?' For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.
    'Who hath dared to wound thee?' cried the Giant; 'tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.'
    'Nay!' answered the child; 'but these are the wounds of Love.'
    'Who art thou?' said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.
    And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, 'You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.'
    And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms. top

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Curiouser and curiouser!

We are in chapter three now, and it has officially taken me in. 

Taylor and I read together every night, or rather - I read to her and she listens.  We recently completed Peter Pan.  One of my very very favorite books (any person who has not yet read this book has not yet truly lived).  And since I had just seen the movie and knew the book was loved by several individuals who's literary experiences I know and trust....I decided to read Alice to Taylor next.  Well, as stated above....we are now in chapter 3 and I am already looking foreword to tonight so we can read more!  There are a number of old children's books that are just simply amazing.  I am not sure exactly why, the only way I can explain it is that reading it is a spiritual experience.  You are not just reading the book, you are a part of it.  The book comes alive and you are a character.  Laughing, crying, living, breathing, having adventures and coming home safe in time for bed.  People in my life have told me before that I should try my hand at writing children's books.  But see, I can't do that.  I can tell an entertaining story (we tell stories when we go on walks, we can't get past two sidewalk squares before Taylor asks for one) but it is forgotten by that evening by all who hear it.  Perhaps when I am old and wise - but not now.  I am still too gay, innocent and heartless (as Mr. Barry states), I still have a lot of growing up to do. 

Well, I had a picture I wanted to share.  But every time I plug the camera into the computer it yells at me.  I have a new/old computer and I guess it doesn't like the camera.  I have attempted to speak soft, kind words to it - but it still refuses to do as I ask.  This means that I will have to wait to show you, but I can still tell you.  You see, we have a new member of the family.  I rescued it from being destroyed (he was gonna kill it - take out all it's insides and make it a mere prop!) but the truth is I wanted it the moment I laid eyes - my wonderful husband can attest to this.  Are you curious yet?  You see, the WISH foundation had a rummage sale this last weekend.  I donated several items (including my 4 huge bins of baby girl clothes!) and of course, to support we had to attend the sale.  We got there and it was the very first thing I saw.  A beautiful, old, dirty, beaten up 150 year old piano.  Yes, I know, I am entirely crazy.  I don't play myself (though I know enough of the basics that I could likely teach my children most of the foundations) but you see, every home needs a piano.  And we don't have one...well technically we still don't since it is in pieces right now.  But it is a project my wonderful husband and I can do together.  And wow, when it is finished this will be one beautiful instrument!  And we are determined that someday it will also be beautiful sounding.  It needs repairing, but it is mostly all the felt, the key tops (anyone want a set of real ivory key tops in terrible condition?) a few of the hammer arms and other small (but highly complicated) parts.  The strings are in good condition, the soundboard only has small cracks and all in all I feel very optimistic that someday we will have a working piano!  I promise to post "before" pictures of it as soon as my computer and I can come to an agreement. 

Ah it is time to go pick up my child from school.  I will try to post again soon this week and include a picture of my new project.

In the spirit of the moment I shall end with the age old question, I do really want to know...though I fear that in the end there is not really an answer.  But tell me, do you know?

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Friday, March 19, 2010

“One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries.” - A. A. Milne

I have this quote on the wall next to my disorderly desk.  I oftentimes wish I had been blessed with the gift of being tidy and organized, but sadly I was not.  And I do believe it is a gift!  One that comes so naturally to some and not to naturally to others.  I am proud that 99% of the time, I go to bed with a tidy living room and a clean kitchen.  But it often stops there.  The bathrooms are always clean (thanks to cleaning during kids baths) though not always tidy.  I seem to almost always be behind on laundry which means that my bedroom is cluttered with baskets of clean, waiting to be cleaned, folded and sorted and waiting to be folded clothes.  Only I know which is which!  The girl's rooms are always safe (well, most of the time) so that there is at least a path to the door through the toys, coloring pages and tossed aside clothes (Taylor goes through several sets of clothes a day based on her mood and the dancing-ness of the music we have on).  My backyard is surprisingly tidy (aside from a sprinkling of toys) due to my tender care of my baby plants.  My sweet pod peas have started climbing! But my desk, is always disorderly.  And I have no idea how to manage this!  I clean it about once a month  (and discover coupons and pre-school pages and forgotten grocery lists amidst the pile) But it always seems to find it's way back to chaos in a surprisingly short amount of time.   Perhaps I should simply accept this about  myself and move on?  Or maybe it is a spiritual lesson on self control and there anything in the Bible about organization?  Hmmmm.  

Organization has been the my central theme the last day or so as I go through piles to give away.  My lovely sister had a baby boy so that means the four big bins of baby girl clothes can find another home.  I am donating them to the WISH rummage sale which you should all come too!  It is on the lawn of the hanford civic center tomorrow morning.  When my wonderful Husband works a lot (as he has been lately) I find the housework closing in on me, I realize just how much help he generally is and get into a slump where I feel as if I will never come out on top of my do to list, so why even bother?  Of course it doesn't help that it has been sooo beautiful outside!  Who wants to stay inside and do laundry when we can be outside playing!?!  I need more windows....

The world has been smaller lately.  As disorganized as I may feel - I like it when the world is smaller.  Not so overwhelming.  Oh, and I discovered another tea!!!  Hold on, let me find the name of it:  It is plum and blackberry black tea.  I got it from 'Fresh and Easy' you know, the newish grocery store in Lemoore?  I like it!  It reminds me a lot of my long departed and loved black mango tea from Trader Joe' just tastes a little blue-er, not quiet as yellow.

Oh!  I got a sewing machine this week!  I got it 50% off at target, it was the last one.  I had been watching it for a while.  (oh, if anyone needs to stock up on thank-you cards, gift bags or wrapping paper it is all 75% off at the moment.  I think scrap booking stuff might be too, but I don't have use for that so I didn't look very closely) Amazon post my sewing machine as having a $250 list price (and they are usually pretty accurate) So I would say getting it for $70 is pretty good!  It also has wonderful reviews.  I spent all afternoon the other day getting it set up and working.  It was actually a weird feeling.  My job is hard, but it doesn't take much mental energy as far as academic learning is concerned.  Now, I know that a learning manual for a basic sewing machine is nothing academically- but I could feel those muscles working.  The ones that have been asleep for a few years now.  It felt good, but wow I was exhausted by the time the girls woke from rest time.  
Dang it!  My tea cooled off again.  I need a mug that keeps hot drinks at a constant 175-180 degrees. It just doesn't taste good anymore when it cools off.  And it cools off way to quickly! My problem is that I don't really like travel mugs, so even though I have some insulated ones I wont use them unless I am actually traveling.  Ah well, I suppose if this is the worst thing I have to complain about today it is a good day!  So I will put my complaining on the shelf for now and be so very thankful that I have some lovely hot tea to drink...and a microwave that can heat it back up for me! 

Ah - short post today.  The world is calling and I fear I cannot hide behind extra shows, cups of tea or computer screens today.  I will close by posting a few pictures from the last week or so.  Like I said, we have been having fun lately!  And luckily my children have no inherited their mother's perfectly understandable and not at all irrational fear of mud.  After all, playing in the mud is something of a right of passage as a child is it not? 
They started out pretty clean....

That didn't last long...

More mud!!

Needless to say - both children were hosed off and popped promptly into the bath!  Then dressed in cozy pj's and we read stories until bedtime.  A good day for kids!  See?  This is why my house is a mess, we are having too much fun outside to clean!

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'll play with my babies 'cause babies don't keep.
                                                                                                          - Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

"The clever men at Oxford Know all that there is to be knowed. But they none of them know one half as much As intelligent Mr. Toad!"

I am a bit at a loss of what to write.  I admit, I just spend the last 30ish minutes writing a very (what I thought of as) insightful and brilliant post...but something was wrong.  I'm really not sure what.  But without even thinking I just discovered that all in one moment - prompted by what must have been God - I had highlighted the entire thing and deleted it.  Perhaps I had written something that would offend someone?  Or maybe it was an idea that is spiritually arrogant or elementary, something God is working to grow me past.  I really am not sure, but I do know for sure I was not supposed to post it (I have you all very curious now don't I). I am very much at peace knowing that page is lost forever. 

So I am pouring myself another cup of coffee and waiting to see what I am actually supposed to write on today. 

Heehee, I just heated my coffee too much!  I must have hit 2 minutes instead of 1.  The moment I stuck a spoon in there to stir it half the coffee exploded out of the cup!   A good science lesson...had it not involved a scalding hot liquid...  So my coffee is waiting for me a bit, I can drink it ridiculously hot...but not like that!

You want to hear something fun?  A dear friend of mine brought over something that made me smile.  Psalty's Kids Praise albums 1-10.  Yup!   Talk about nostalgia!  I am putting them on my computer as I type and this morning we have plans to sing and dance to it.  Want to bet I remember every word?  Well, for the first 7 albums or so.  Not sure I have heard the last few, the last was made in 1991 (the first in 1980 I think?) So by 8-9 years old I had moved past Psalty and have never heard the last few.  Who knew I would enjoy it all over again sharing it with my toddlers! Anyone want to come over and dance with us?  It will be fun!  I remember when a few of them came out new, makes me feel old!

Funny, a lot of my deleted post was based on people and being real vs being "different". I still want to write on it, but I will have to give myself a little more time to know what is and what is not the correct thing to write.  But it makes me smile to think of myself at 5-6 years old dancing to the same music I can now share with my kids.  You hear about being "child-like" all the time, and there are entire sermons based on being "like the little children."  But so many of us think back on our childhood with embarrassment, shame or even fear or guilt.  We were ignorant, we were immature.  We said/did things we would never dream of saying/doing now.  There was pain, there was sorrow...Awe!  The box with Kids Praise 7 (the Hymns one) has no CD in it!  Sad, that is one of my favorites.  No worries, I'll get it yet!

Anyhow, I guess what I am trying to say is that I a define "being like the little children" a bit differently.  Kids are real.  They laugh when they are happy, they cry when sad or hurt.  They say what is on their mind and they have no filters.  Now...some measure of filter is good.  But being THAT genuine, not taking on a created persona.  That is where I want to be.  I am not sure exactly what it all looks like, but that is just part of growing.  Funny, we spend years trying to get past childhood - then when it has finally been left entirely behind - we spend years trying to get some of it back.  Be it attitude, emotion, fun or perhaps it is an attempt to re-create a childhood we never had through our kids or just through our imaginations.

I am really not sure I am making sense today.  The second cup of coffee is not doing it's job.  Perhaps it is time to go off for the day.  I will write more if I get more inspiration.  I find I do better when I have an idea and desire to write it down then when I feel as if I should write and sit down waiting for inspiration to magically hit.  On the same note as this - I have also decided I will no longer post on Facebook when I have written here.  Unless perhaps the post contains pictures I want to share.  I want the freedom to write here without pressure - not sure why posting it on FB adds pressure but somehow it does.  So please check back every so often here to see if  I have updated.  I will not be consistent.  Mondays are no longer a "there will be a new post" day (not that they have been in a while!).  My Monday mornings have been filled now and again, I enjoy not having too much structure when it comes to this site. 

My title quote is from a book on my favorites list, one that I consider to be very full of wisdom (Children's books often are) The Wind in the Willows.  I will end with the quote my deleated post was based off of and let you draw your own conclusions.

"The Wild Wood is pretty well populated by now; with all the usual lot, good, bad, and indifferent--I name no names. It takes all sorts to make a world."
- Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows, Ch. 4

Friday, March 5, 2010

The Linus Syndrome

A few weeks ago Taylor and I had a conversation.  She asked if she could take her blankie to heaven with her.  Of course the answer is no, we can't take things here on earth to heaven with us.  Well, that was the wrong thing to say to a toddler with a beloved blankie.  We talked about it for a while, saying that we wont need blankies when Jesus is with us.  I thought that was the end of the conversation.  Until she came out of the her room at rest time today, eyes brimming and voice on the verge of breaking:

 "Mommy?  What will we do if we are in heaven and we are sleeping?" 

It took me a moment, after all this small one should be resting and she is master of coming up with ways to escape her afternoon solitude.  "When we are sleeping?"  I struggle - "yes"  she answers.  "when we are sleeping."  Tears start to escape. "What will we do in heaven if we are sleeping?"  Clarity hits me "Oh, you mean your blanket?"  "yes mommy, what will we do if we are sleeping and we can't have our blanket?" 

Perhaps it is wrong of me, I'm not sure if I broke some religious rule. But she looked so sad and was so obviously worried that all I could do was give her a hug and assure her, beyond any trace of doubt that if she really needed her blanket when she was in heaven I was sure that God would find a way for her to have it.  And oh the joy that lit up that freckled face!  She headed back to her room and I, not wanting a moment like that to be forgotten jumped on here to tell you all of my parenting brilliance and the utter cuteness that is my daughter....but that was not the end.  A moment later my small one comes back out, tears threatening once more:  "Will God make sure I have all my cuddly toys when I'm in heaven too?  She asks as she tries SO hard to keep from crying. I'm in to deep, what else can I say? "Yes, I'm sure he will Taylor"  Again she walks back to her room.  Now I am feeling a bit guilty.  Have I just lied to my daughter?  Do I need to break her trust in me as a parent by confessing to her the folly of my words?  Can I just leave it be and trust that God understands and this is something that can be cleared up as she grows?

Well, I guess I appeared unsure of my own words even as I said them.  A couple minutes later, bright eyed and grinning she gallops back out of her room.

"Mom, God answered my question." 
"What did he say baby?" 
"He said yes."
"What did you ask him?" 
"I asked him if I had everything I needed and he said yes, I heard him!" 

Then she popped back out again.  Her doubt forgotten, the next adventure already decided on.

So I suppose that answered my question.  Out of the mouths of babes.  Blankies and toys aside - she was not asking about material things.  She is asking about comfort, security.  It seems rather philosophical for an almost 4 year old, but the truth behind the question rings true.  'Will I forever feel as safe and comforted as I do right now?'  In my humanness I want to prepare her for the dark scary world out there.  I want to hold her as tight as I can right now and break the news slowly.  'No, you wont.  that which you see as security is just a small piece of cloth and it doesn't last.'  But, you see, I'm wrong.  None of us are really secure by ourselves after all. And she can recognize this.  We need spiritual arms to hold us, a supernatural "blankie."  I was so concerned with what I could see and touch - but all she wanted to know is that she wont be alone.  Her security will be there, she has everything she needs.  She knows this, she asked - and He said Yes!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

One, two, three, four, five. Once I caught a fish alive!

Well, not really.  I have actually never caught a fish before.  Not really anyhow - not real fishing.

I am restless today.  So I decided I would pop on here real fast and tell you all about it.  I have been bored, not sure of what to fill my time with lately.  My children are growing, getting past the time when they need mom 100% of the time.  It is nice!  I am enjoying some independence.  But as my roles change I am finding my job a bit menial.  My new biggest role is that of mediator and referee.  I clean the house and take care of never ending tasks, stopping every so often to break up fights and settle the age old question of "who had it first" and "who started it."  I don't intervene every time, I refuse to have children incapable of settling disputes. But of course that means that settling these "disagreements" are often a task in and of itself, walking my small ones through the process of talking things out.  Of course, since Ayla is small enough to not really understand beyond "She had it and I want it" this ALWAYS results in tears from her emotionally driven sister, who is big enough to understand...and so she often is the one getting in trouble as she chooses to grab and yell - therefore teaching her sister that is the way to settle it even though Taylor may have had it first and Ayla is the one who started it...Taylor is the one getting in trouble because she grabbed it back knocking down the smaller one who in turn smacked her head on the coffee table!

I do try to keep at least partial peace. But it is a job!

Mind you, we still have fun playing together, reading stories, and my personal favorite; dancing to Disney music.  But the days have been getting longer lately - we meander along through play, work and naptime and it is all framed by crazy insane evenings full of DOING.  We are working hard to cut back on the evening doings, but I am slightly scared that without them my days will last even longer.  

In short, I need a hobby!  Any suggestions?  I am up for just about only requirements are it needs to have purpose. I don't do well with meaningless cross-stitch or other equally purposeless hobbies.   I have tried scrap-booking but it takes to long to set up and take down.  So when I am finally ready to start, it is time to take it all down again or risk it all being destroyed.   I also have no real pictures, they are all digital.  I love going to the gym, but I rarely have the car these days and it takes to much pre-planning to have it for sure.  My creativity is dwindling, perhaps it is the start of spring and the fever that comes with it.  But I am tired of being cooped up and I need an outlet!  Something that required doing, not sitting at a computer - not reading a book - not waiting for something to happen.  DOING.  I would love to do more decorating of my house and yard but it is expensive and I feel I can't really make these decisions without my husbands input. 

Ah me - perhaps it is just this season I am stuck in.  Perhaps it is a spiritual slap I need?  A reminder to be content with what I have?  A test to see if I can find joy in everyday life?  Of course I do consider my life to be very joyful - it is not a lack of joy. In fact I have days I feel as if I am rather brimming with it!  This is more a lack of...well see I'm not really sure...adventure?  Creativity?  Purpose beyond the raising of children and keeping of house.  Not to belittle that which has been untrusted to me...I take it very seriously...and now see I am rambling?

Alright - I will check back in later.  Ayla in the last few moments has found a plastic bag she keeps putting on her head (I swear this child has her angel working overtime!) has scattered the contents of the diaper bag across the living room floor and reduced her sister to tears for reasons I have yet to discover.  off to more mediation!

Six, seven, eight, nine ,ten,
Then I let it go again......

Monday, March 1, 2010

At LEAST 20 books, 2 shows and a whole pot of tea

A lazy Monday.  We need these every so often.  Dear friends were set to come over this morning, but plans changed and as much as I will miss is nice to have a lazy Monday! So we have passed the morning so far with breakfast, reading together for a good hour and now the little ones are entertained by PBS as I drink some tea and steal a moment in time to talk to all of you. 

Ginger peach black.  What do you mean "what."  Ginger peach black.   My tea.  It is ginger peach black tea.  Yes, I know you didn't ask...I was telling you.  You don't care about my tea? Why not!?!  It is very good tea.  I got it from cost plus so it has to be good.  Everything you buy from that store has to be good.  It is the law.  Like gravity - though Taylor has recently started yelling at gravity every time is is not cooperating with her wishes.  "Gravity!  Don't do that!" I told her that her ball falls to the floor because of gravity.  That gravity is a law and she said "I am just going to change that law!"  I have not yet told her that she, a mere three year old does not hold the key to cosmic law.  It is just too funny to watch!   

I am waiting everyday now for the first day of spring.  I pay no attention to the calendar.  The first day of every season is decided by me.  Taylor may not be able to change gravity - but I decide the seasons!  It is based completely on the weather and my current mood.  I always know when it is the first day of a season, not sure how.  I just do.  And of course as soon as it comes we have to celebrate.   I always get a bit giddy at the change of seasons.  I am not sure if it is because I love change, or if I simply have such a short attention span that I am just sick of it all after a month or two.  I would probably love to live somewhere the seasons are more distinct.  But alas, this is where I am supposed to be!  And perhaps if it were not so subtle I would not appreciate it so grandly.  So I make the best of it, and today that means I am delighted we have sun.  After the extra show my kids are delighted to be allowed, I believe we will be going outside.  My leeks and carrots need thinning and I will be challenging my small ones to a race.  (though the biggest small one cheats and starts before we say "go" and the smallest small one says "go" randomly whenever she wants to start running, so I suppose I am the odd one out trying to have rules at all!) Racing is a wonderful outside activity.  Exercise for me, and activity for them! We all win (except at the racing part, I always win at that!)  Perhaps today we will pretend we are racing through the jungle.  With all our rain I have a very happy lawn that has escaped mowing due to its perpetual bath for several weeks now.  So it is rather jungle-ey out there!

Ah, another cup of tea.  What did I ever do to deserve you!?!  I am truly blessed. 

No!  I just realized I forgot to write my to-do list today.  Our mornings are simple.  Daddy goes to work and the first thing we do is sit together, read something spiritual-esk whether it is a devotional book or just the Bible.  Then we pray for our day and make a to-do list.  As much  as I love change, I need structure to my day or I go crazy.  But today we did the first two activities and then an unusually fussy almost 4 year old distracted me from my list.  So I shall make it here:

1. put away folded laundry - and wash and fold more, it never ends.  Ever.
2. email a friend who is LONG overdue (I have been terrible with that lately.  So if I owe you an email, I still love you!  I am just forgetful...and I have no real excuse.  I am behind.
3. play in the backyard
4. do some toy purging.  An uphill battle.
5. send off netflex - and check the mail!  My mailbox is too far away, I have forgotten it for too many days.  

Today is actually pretty empty.  Nice actually.  I can relax a bit this afternoon. And just like that I have run our of things to day.  Funny how that happens so suddenly at times.

And so ends this post, a light post with no real value.  But true just the same.  May you all grow wings like grasshoppers and enjoy your brand new view of the world!