A Great Interview

I love this interview of my uncle.
Yes, he's a famous basketball coach but more importantly (to me anyways!) he is an incredible father.  And his wife...my Aunt Kathleen....my go-to for advice in raising children.  I can only hope to be half the mother she is...she gets is ALL right.

Deadly Silence

We don't have a cry room at our church.  Do you have any idea how stressful that is?  Does anyone else have just about a nervous breakdown when there is no music playing or no person speaking?  In church 2 weeks ago Patrick was in my arms when I was kneeling down and he leaned over the seat back in front of us.  He apparently had a large gas bubble in his lower intestine.  GEEZ!  Thank God for the muffling power of a diaper!  But that didn't stop SOME kids (ours and quite a few others) from slapping their hands over their mouths to hide the giggles.  Please tell me your most embarassing church moments.  Tell me I'm not the only one that must apply two coats of antiperspirant to combat the nervous sweats.

Overwhelmation: Because You Know It's Already Begun!

Here's my goals this coming Christmas season:
1. To remember IN SPITE OF WHAT EVERY MERCHANDISER BELIEVES, the Christmas season, FOR ME, starts on the first day of Advent.  That day falls on Sunday, November 29.

2. To stay CENTERED.  Not have my heart and mind pulled in every direction by super cute craft ideas, millions of delectable recipes, decorating photos that make me swoon.  There is NO way I can try everything, have my house look like a magazine and stay focused on how I really want my heart to feel this Christmas.  I promise I will take away ONE new recipe, (already have it...caramel and chocolate dipped pretzel sticks), one new craft idea (?), and one sweet little addition to my house (already have that too...a Jesse tree.)  THAT'S IT!  I will admire the rest...admire, no more.

3. By November 29, I will BE DONE with the gifts.  Before you gasp in surprise, know that I have accomplished this goal for years.  I have found, through trial and error, that if I really want to enjoy the TRUE MEANING of the Christmas season, I must not be standing in line, buying, listing, stressed, annoyed, snappy, away from my family at some dreadful store, buying, buying, buying!  Barf!  I use the month of November, avoid the crowds, shop in peace, and steady and sure, I'm done.  December brings silent nights, peace and joy and peace and peace.

4. To keep in mind Christmas pasts...not MY Christmas pasts, but Christmas's really past.  When one gift or two was enough.  When the season was more about the sweet stuff and less about Walmart.  More about crackling fires and crackling record players and sweet anticipation and a family meal... and less about Lights at the Zoo and craft bonanzas, loads of gifts and fancy trees.  I WANT the old-fashioned Christmas...not the new-fangled one.

5. To, like my mother did for us, concentrate 99% of my efforts on the real meaning behind the holiday. To REMIND them constantly what Christmas really is...that does not mean NO fun...I love the fun stuff, trust me.   I think kids need to reminded constantly what we really are celebrating, just to build up a wall of fortitude against the constant barrage of materialisim....or they'll never get to know the sweet stuff!

On School

Sometimes I dream of homeschooling. I really think it's awesome...when done considerately of course, like it usually is it seems. I dream of my children sitting around a big table, busy with their work...loving learning...curious on their own and driven to drink in knowledge without constant rules, regulations, and adult-driven, test-driven outer motivations. A huge wall of books, top to bottom...my own budget for materials...think how much fun that would be!

I know...that's a "Pottery Barn" version of homeschooling...it all looks good on paper, but it SO isn't the real thing. I'm sure I'm forgetting the work, the mess, the chaos, the constant chatter?!

And I know my limitations. I wish I didn't have limitations...but knowing them is more important than wishing them away right? Maybe if I would have started out from the beginning...well, it isn't going to happen, so let's not go there.

Let me preface this post by saying this also...I am SO grateful to live in a country where my child doesn't have to walk 7 miles to a one room, dirt floored schoolhouse, across dangerous guerrilla territory, in inclement weather and over precarious landscapes. I always come back to this when I hear myself complaining. Really, we have so much more than many other people on God's green earth. I tell myself to shut up sometimes, trust me.

At the same time...see, I can't help myself, there are some little things that just BUG me so much about school.

1. Homework. Not ALL homework, but homework that lasts all night long. Isn't a math sheet, some spelling words enough? Maybe a quick review for a test? I want to spend time with my kids...not time harping on them to sit down, and work...what they just spent 6 hours doing? I want them to read good books, and play outside, and use their heads in creative ways too.

2. Crabby teachers. Just retire. Or just don't be crabby. You don't have to be perfectly happy every single day, but know when to call it quits after 290 days of the grouchies.

3. At the same time....I feel SO much for the teachers. Because there are some mighty high needs by some students in these classrooms right now...and it can NOT be easy to deal with juggling all this day in and day out.

4. Lunch. I'd rather just have to pack...which we almost always do...except when I cave, or get lazy. We packed everyday when we were little...I think we had pizza day once a month or so. But the stuff that is served now...seriously...we wonder why so many kids are struggling with weight issues? Geez oh Pete...I'd gain 40 pounds and bloat out like a hippo if I ate that processed, carb loaded, crapola.

5. Major time-wasters...I don't come across much of this where my children attend, but I have come across a few "political agenda" presentations that slipped by. Jeff and I can laugh now thinking about them...the Recovering Reggie, the Cross-Addicted Puppet from the B.A.B.E.S. program. The lady who gave this presentation insisted everyone call her "grandma"...a one hour once a week program that lasted 7 weeks too long in 2nd grade. The kids would say, "The puppet lady is coming today!" And I would say, "What does she talk about?" And they would say, "I don't know, but we get to sit on the floor by our friends and not do math." Cracks me up...and ticks me off at the same time.

6. The extra unnecessary over the top holiday celebrations...I've said it twice on this blog before so I won't go into detail.

OK, I'm done.

Really, I am.
Now off to school kiddos!

The Month of November

I have a confession. November is not my favorite month. It sort of feels like February. A means to an end. The last mile before victory. A waiting period for something.

It could be because November=Thanksgiving, a holiday I've never been fond of either. What a downer I am, I know. I liked Thanksgiving once...in first grade, our sweet teacher, Sister Mary I Can't Remember, spend reading and phonics time helping us to create the most awesome girl pilgrim costumes. The fun ended there.

It's been suggested before that the REAL reason Thanksgiving isn't my favorite holiday is because it's one of the only holidays that doesn't have major candy representation. The nerve! Like I'd be so shallow.

OK that's true.

SO...here I am, 3o (not) years old, trying hard to change my ways and have my family and I embrace the TRUE meaning of Thanksgiving. To GIVE THANKS. So necessary, but not really something most children and shallow sugar-addicted results respond, "What a blast!" too.

Still we are going to try, me especially, to think of little ways to say THANKS everyday this lovely month. I love the act of gratefulness...and I'm thinking sticking with THAT theme...gratitude, will boost up my November morale. By blogging some thank you's, talking about some thank you's around the dinner table, and speaking the word thank you often, we'll turn this whole thing around. We will also be rewarded with gigantic chocolate turkeys each and everytime we do so, which I'm thinking will help move this holiday right on up there with the rest.

Halloween: The Before’s, The Durings, The Afters

   

Grandma’s Halloween Party:

Abbey is a flapper…we found that dress for 4 dollars and she altered it herself to make it fit better. 3 best friend girl cousins…all born the same year. Jeff is "Country Club Man".  He stayed in character the whole night.  No, not annoying at all.  Grandma vacuuming up the aftermath of the donut game.  She has parties like this…20 grandkids plus adults…all the time.  And I’ve NEVER her seen her stressed.  EVER.  She has never raised her voice to a child or spoke impatiently to any of them.  She has never had that “mean party look” that says “get out of my way I have a lot to do”.  She has never batted an eye when a kid spills all over carpet, furniture, floors.  I have never seen her tired.  Seriously.  She made (not bought!) chili, vegetable soup and tortilla soup and set up the house so cute.  And laughed and enjoyed the party the entire time.

What the secret?

Don’t ask me.  I am NOT the person to ask.  I’ll ask her sometime….there’s my next Celebrity Interview.  If she’ll agree.  Don’t you want her to?  Crazy Uncle Tom.  He dresses like that at every party.  Weird. Aunt Tiffany was voted “best candy hander-outer”…really long sticks of gum…used for sword fights of course.  Here you can see her reprimanding a thiefing nephew for taking two instead of one. (Isaac.) Also, she’s pregnant with her 6th child.  And she was the one who made that spider cake you saw above. And her nails are done.  And she has a super cute outfit on.  Let’s hit her with really long gum sticks!  

Halloween Night: 

Isaac is missing because he went to his cousin’s house.  He is 15 after all.  Sniff sniff.Abbey and friend Maddie…dressed warm. We leave our candy out on the porch…so we both can go out with the kids.  When we come back home it is only 1/2 way gone.  I love our neighborhood.  LOVE.    A chicken stuck in a pile of leaves.    I love when adults take Halloween seriously.  I plan to my whole life. Isn’t it weird that Patrick has only said Mama and Dada his whole entire life, but suddenly on Halloween night he can say Trick or Treat and Thank You loud and clear because he knows he’ll get candy?  I feel sort of betrayed. See that house in the background?  That is one of my favorite houses in my neighborhood.  It is PERFECTION.  I met the owner and she laughed when I told her that and said, “Well the outside looks better than the inside.”  But I doubt that.  (I kind of snuck a few nosy peeks before she came to the door.  It is divine.)

Later That Night

Abbey and her friend Maddie assessing the situation.Matt comes home with the goods. Andrew invents the "Trick or Treat” feedbag.  The End.

(You don’t want me to take pictures of the Day After do you? Argghhh.)

Conspiracy Theory

 Patrick...knowing our plans to truss him up like a sweet little cuddly chicken,

sneaks into Mommy's makeup drawer this morning to become his heart's desire...

Slasher Boy.

...not realizing that thing in his mouth is ruining his whole look.

Deep Thoughts (Ow, That Hurts!)

Do you know what I've always loved? Learning about different religions. It's so interesting to me. One day, when I have the time, I'm going to buy a big huge volume on world religions and read, read, read. Actually, what I'd really like to do is spend a year exploring some different faiths...being immersed in the traditions, asking 5 million questions, watching, listening, learning. (I can hear Jeff groaning while he reads that sentence.)

Such beautiful traditions never lost through ages and ages.  Important ceremonies and rituals. Such interesting concepts that speak to my soul. Beautiful places of worship...some couldn't be more different, but all beautiful either in their stark simplicity or intricate architecture. Historical perspectives as you watch different values and influences shape beliefs. We have SO much to gain from each other. Such beautiful thoughts about our life here on this earth and what varying beliefs on what comes after. I just want to SUCK all that knowledge into my brain and ponder.

I know that every religion possesses their own smells, sights, symbols and traditions that are familiar and beautiful and ingrained into each individual. The lighting of Advent candles to me brings back a flood of memories and a little flip floppy of excitement. All it takes is the smell of a blown out match...the long wait for Christmas, Jesus' birth, and yes, the gifts under the tree. Or Lent...meatless Fridays, the dreaded days of winter bringing a somberness to Holy Week...all waiting for that burst of Spring...Easter, new life.  (And a really, really long mass!)

I was raised Catholic. We went to church every Sunday and practiced the traditions of our faith. But my mom, who is one of the smartest people I know, had a set of volumes on our family room book shelves. They were old and dusty and NOT very attractive, but each small factual volume was about a different religion. I would browse through them occasionally, (I think only when bored to death!)  As a child...small words, no pictures...not very appealing. But I thanked my mom the other day for keeping them there. Because to me they symbolized something that my mother taught me without words.

I once read somewhere that if you get down to the nitty gritty, the "beautiful" stuff, the similarity between religions far outway the differences. I LOVE this. I can't believe it's not true.

"The religions of humanity should be a unifying force, for all the great religions reveal a basic unity in ethics. Whether it be Judaism, Catholicism, Protestantism, Buddhism or Confucianism, all grow out of a sense of the sacredness of human life.

This moral sensitivity to the sacredness of human personality -- the Commandments not to kill, not to hurt, not to put a stumbling block in the path of the blind, not to neglect the widow or the fatherless, not to exploit the servant or the worker -- all this can be found in the Bibles of humanity, in all the sacred books.

All teach in substance: "Do unto others as you would that others should do unto you." There is, then, a basic unity among the great religions in the matter of ethics.

Algernon Black

A Dream Is A Wish…

A dream is a wish your heart makes ...

Do you ever do this? Sit in your house and think….if I just pushed out this wall…or if I just moved this door here, and added a couple more feet. I do this all winter (and maybe other seasons too?)…I try not to, I want you to know that. It’s important that you know that. I’m not a brat. I want to be happy with what I have…contentment is what I strive for always. But something just MAKES me do this…let’s call it a creative spirit instead of something more materialistic, OK? That sounds good and forgiving.

I just have to tell you…my last kitchen was the tiniest thing you EVER saw. Seriously…it was a tiny little hallway…two people could not fit in it…well they could, but then one couldn’t get out until the other moved. How maddening is that! SO I am ever so grateful for my new kitchen in the house I live in presently. I have new cabinets and a new floor and new appliances…I love them all and appreciate them and tell them all that everyday. (sort of).

BUT if I could just push out that back wall 10 feet! See…here I go. It just is screaming to be done. It asks me to do it all the time. It won’t shut up. I tell it, “If I could just get a shovel and start digging your new foundation myself, I swear I’d do it for you. If I could extend those heat ducts, frame you up, throw some drywall on those studs…we’d be all set! I could reuse the new sliders we’d be covering up in the adjacent room, use all your shiny windows that are already there…just seriously if I could PUSH you out, I’d do it!”

But alas, I’m not that strong, smart or talented…I'd need someone's help. And I'd need to pay that someone for their help. And I'd have to demand that they finish it all in ONE day before my husband got home from work, so I could say, "Oh honey, doesn't it look lovely? I didn't think you'd mind if I spent a few today! I knew you would think it was worth it!"

So I dream on paper…and in pictures…and in my convoluted little brain that makes walls talk to me:

Since I don’t have a nice big coat closet/mudroom and have to use my garage for most of that stuff, I’d put some closed cabinets right on the other side of that wall…wouldn’t even have to mess with my existing kitchen cabinets/countertops. Those cabinets would fit so nicely in that little nook…and right when you come in through the back door….perfect..and easy peasy!

I’d love a huge island….NO sink or anything fancy on it or under it…just a big space with a bunch of stools…that way I can set the table for dinner, but homework, snacks, conversations could still be going on within sight of my duties.

Some people say, "If walls could talk."

I say..."If mine would just shut up!"

That Face

Dearest Patrick-

You do know that you are the youngest member of this family, right? And because of that, faces like this are SO unnecessary. You are “our” baby. You will be called “the baby” when you in fact, your are far from being anything close to resembling a baby. Like when you are 7, and 25 and 42 and 86. Yes, you will 'endure' many hand-me-downs, but besides that, I don't think this position in life has many other drawbacks.

So cool it with the pouty looks. Yes, they are irresistible. We all shout, “Come and look at Patrick’s face! Oh, isn’t it SO cute.” We all point and stare and giggle and laugh and sometimes are eyes even water with the preciousness of it all.

Still, relax those facial muscles dude. Don’t put them to waste.

You’ve got it made already.

Love, Your Family

Chillax

This is a story about a pocket knife. A pocket knife that found it's way into a tiny pocket of Matthew's school backpack during a weekend years ago...first grade. It went to school the next day, forgotten. Another student was snooping, and found it. And ran to the teacher and tattled. Thank goodness, Matthew's teacher did not overreact about it and called me to say that she took Matt aside and told him not to bring it anymore because it could be dangerous if someone else got their hands on it. (Like Mr. Snooper?) I think she had to tell the principal too, but she used all her sensibilities in dealing with the situation also. AS IN, she knows me, she knows Matt, and she knows it was a little innocent mistake.

Anyways, I'm bringing this up because of a couple incidences I've heard of this last week from friends that make me think the possession of common sense has evaporated with the ozone layer.

A child drawing a doodle in the side margins of his notebook...a cowboy-type character... and being punished for drawing a 'threatening' picture.

Another little boy writing out an assignment...a Halloween card to the Student of the Week, and including a spooky phrase from something he read from a children's book taken out of that very school's library, along with cute little drawings of bats and pumpkins. The card was sent home with the Student of the Week whose mother called the teacher to give warning about "threatening message". The parents of the innocent boy were put on conference call, the child was pulled out of class and questioned and made to apologize to the student...who had no idea what he was even apologizing for!

PLEASE! It's out of hand. Why must we all be SO dramatic? I know you know what I'm talking about...I know of a couple of moms who are always looking for the "newest, latest, scariest" threat to happen to THEM...like this fuels their ego, or keeps them busy, or at least makes them behave like they have the "in" on the latest down at school. Maybe it gives them something to gossip about (the poor kids!), or lets them say, "well, this would never happen to me!", or "I saw that on 20/20...it can happen anywhere!"

Do you remember when you were little and you told your mom or dad something so innocent and they had on opinion SO different from what yours was? I remember riding in the car with my mom and the song "Hungry Like The Wolf" from Duran Duran came on. I was in junior high. I remember saying to my mom, "I love this song! Don't you like it Mom?" And her saying, "It sounds awful...like some guy chasing after a girl to do something bad to her!" And the truth was...she was totally right, but I swear, I really thought the song was about a wolf! I pictured a pack of wolves running through dark streets. I just liked the beat of the song! It makes me CRACK UP now. I couldn't understand the mumbled lyrics, and I was still innocent enough not to figure it out. But you know what I thought after she said that? "I am never telling you anything again." I was embarrassed and felt rejected...yes, over such a stupid little thing, and I KNOW my mom did not want me to feel that way, but I did. For her it was probably one of those things we all say as parents,"The MUSIC these days! The things they sing! Terrible!". (Don't you think they've been saying that for generations? I know I do!)

The correlation of that story with the topic at hand? I'm not sure...except that the way we jump to conclusions, our kids must all think we are nutballs.

See, to me it was just a song about a wolf.

Like...

...it was just a pocket knife! He was whittling that weekend...like boys are supposed to do!

...it was just a little drawing of a cowboy with guns! What boy doesn't doodle bad guys in class?

...it was just a little Halloween saying! The Student of the Week said she loved Halloween in her speech! He was JUST trying to make something nice and Halloween-ie for her!

I think we should just all chill out a little.

I know we hear about awful things happening.

Sometimes it's easy to project all the garbage we hear, out of fear, on the innocent meanderings of our children.

It's easy to become a bottom feeder of the media frenzy.

Being scared and dramatic is considered more fun to some, yes.

Common sense is way more practical.

A Simple Sweatshirt, Is That Too Much To Ask?

When I wasn't feeling too good a couple weeks ago...not sick enough to lay in bed, but not great enough to be out and about, I searched in my closet for a sweatshirt. I had none. Who doesn't have a sweatshirt?

Last week I was helping Abbey buy a couple things for her wardrobe (that girl grows like a weed!) I came upon this sweatshirt in the Junior section of Kohl's. I thought I'd give it a try. I am sort of picky about the way things feel. Not too tight, not too loose, not too short in the sleeves (I have long arms!), not too short or too long altogether. Geez, I sound like Goldilocks.

Anyways...yesterday, I went back for the other (cute!) colors. It is my new favorite thing...my "uniform" (sigh). This time they were on sale for $15.99! I've washed them (but hung dry) and they are not 'cheap'...no shrinkage or pillage.

Why am I even telling you this?

Maybe because I think YOU too, like me, might have as hard of a time finding cute, comfortable clothes that don't cost tons of money since chances are within hours of wearing them you will also be wearing chewed up food, or baby spit, and also that you, like me, have NO desire to go to the mall across town and hunt all over for things that won't fit your mommy body anyways, and also that we might both want to avoid looking frumpy but might also have to bend down 1,000 times a day and have no desire to have either have our boobs or our back fat showing everytime we do that. (Not that you have back fat...I'm not saying that at all. I do. You don't. I'm sure of it.)

A Mother's Hands

On Wednesday evening I had a chance, while the kids were outside playing, to quickly peruse my comments from my post (you know the one!) from the previous day. Of course, when I say a MINUTE, I mean a MINUTE...or maybe two. After dinner in a house with 5 children is a bad time to be on the darn computer, isn't it?

This was my evening:

Patrick soon entered the house crying...Jeff couldn't figure out why. That sweet little baby held up his hand to me and I said, "I bet it's a splinter." Lo and behold...a mother's intuition. Patrick looked so relieved just to know, "She found the reason!" I caressed his sweet little hand and headed for the bath...warm water always works those things out doesn't it? As I took his little fingers in mine, I thought, "There is nothing like a mother's touch."

Isaac came home that day from school white as a ghost. He was snappy and exhausted. I could tell...sick. After dinner, I told him to get in bed and stay there. After Patrick's bath I checked on him. I put my hand on his forehead...I'd say about 101. Isn't it funny how all of us mothers have a built in thermometer in our hands? My mother and mother-in-law....they can be accurate to the 10th degree...I'm not there yet...one day.

Andrew, oh Andrew. Kindergarten...long and exhausting. Finally...in bed. But restless...overtired. I sit next to him and hug him and kiss his sweet cheeks. The doctor told us that he will want to keep his ace bandage on now that his pins are out but that it isn't necessary. I ask him for the 3rd time this week..."Can we just take it off at night?" The answer has always been "NO!"...still nervous and scared. This time though...he says yes...it was itchy. We slowly unwrap it...I can tell it feels so good to get it off. I see him relax finally as I gently touch the shriveled, dry skin. Lo and behold, he bends his arm all the way up...a first! He is so proud of himself. There is nothing like a mother's touch to make your sores heal. .

Matthew...always hungry before bed. That kid will be way over 6 feet tall, no doubt. I brush the crumbs off his chest...pretzels in bed! How uncomfortable! I rub his head, back and shoulders with my fingertips...he says, "Mom that feels so good!" He can hardly keep his eyes open.

I go downstairs. Abbey's in the kitchen...I lock my hands around her body and I pick her up and twirl her. She says, "How can you even do that? Aren't I too heavy?" I say yes...but I did it when you were a baby...I tell her she was the lightest baby to pick up and hold and she smiles. I think there are two types of babies...babies with air in their innards and babies with rocks in their tummies. They look the same size but are surprisingly different to hold, pick up, twirl. When you hook your hands under their little armpits sometimes you are surprised by what you get!

When I finally sat down to rock Patrick, I thought about how much power and influence I have in my (wrinkled and veiny) mother hands. I used them to soothe, to heal, to calm, to reassure.

A long time ago I made this decision that my hands...MY hands...will never purposely bring physical pain to my children.

In the name of anything. EVER.

I like to think that most of us make decisions about how we parent our children thoughtfully. I know I do. I think A LOT about how to teach my children to grow up to be beautiful people. I study, I read, I observe, I analyze, I share, I listen, I write, I pray, I think. I listen to mothers with older, grown children who I admire so much. I ask for their mistakes (because we all make them!), I ask for their proudest moments, I listen to the journey so that I can learn from their wealth of knowledge.

But most importantly, I am in touch with my heart, my soul, my spirit. My motherly instinct you may call it. We all have one, don't we? I've learned it always guides me in the right direction, as long as I stop all the noise around the world, and LISTEN to it. It always whispers to me to keep grace, dignity, a calm heart, a teaching spirit and gentle hands at the forefront of this journey.

Waxing Leaves

We did this every year when we were young and it was so much fun. It’s a simple tradition but one kids love. First you need to gather leaves…go on a nature walk, find the most beautiful, colorful, perfect leaves. OR just zip your mouth, let the kids pick up the ones they want, no matter what they look like...there is no better way to ruin a creative endeavor with your kids than by being bossy and controlling!

Pick some of this up at your grocery store in the canning section. It’s a couple dollars and one box should be enough.

Don’t forget to buy a disposal pan like this one…if you don’t you will have to use a good pan, and you will ruin it.

Melt the wax over low heat. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be careful…hot wax is HOT. Place it on a back burner and guard it with your life if your children are little.

I know I have done this with kids as young as 2, but you have to be vigilant!

Have them hold the stem, dip the leave in melted wax and then set the leave on wax paper. Cover your counter with newspaper, then the wax paper, to make clean up easy, because it’s NO fun scraping wax drippings off counters.

Let each leaf cool completely…once they are totally cool they will lift off easily. If the wax starts to harden in the pan, just warm it up on the burner again.

You can put them in a big glass bowl, or tie them up with string to form a garland. They are beautiful and a perfectly simple (and almost free) autumn decoration.

A Happy Topic!!!! Baby Naming...My Favorite Pastime

One of my favorite things to do is to pick out names for babies. I had to do it many times for my own family, and have never tired of it. I have heard names recently that have actually made me WANT to get pregnant...just to use THAT name. Really as immature as looking at the latest Pottery Barn Kids magazine and thinking you want a baby just to put it in that SO cute room with the birds and embroidery. What a great reason to bring life into the world, and go through 9 months of pukey pregnancy and then 18-forever more years of really hard work, right?

Let me make a brief statement...(for the record...I am NOT pregnant, nor have any intentions of becoming pregnant sooner...or later). Thanks to Jeff, my lovely husband, and his good friend George, who like to pretend that they are actually on the set of The Office at work, rumors have been floating around. Do not believe them! This subject is on my mind because just about everyone I know under the age of 35 is expecting!

Back to baby naming, my favorite pasttime:

I have found over the years there are many different avenues one might take when choosing a name:

1. There are those parents who don't mind telling everyone their baby name, or choices. Sometimes even asking, "What do you like?" They are either pretty opinionated themselves and therefore don't really give a darn what your answer is, or they are first time parents who have NO idea that they could be playing with fire...see below.

2. There are those who want to keep it secret till that baby's name is on the birth certificate, telling NO ONE. Sometimes they tell everyone they don't have any idea yet, they are just going to wait and see what the baby looks like, but I never believe that! They really don't want to take the chance of a heated family name debate, nor do they want to hear about how you once knew someone at your highschool with that name who now is in prison from pornography charges stemming from multiple incidences in movie theatres, or how that name reminds you of a girl you once knew who slept with 25 guys her freshman year in college, or how your sweet little precious name rhymes with ___ and __ and ___, which all the kids in your soon to be born baby's kindergarten class will figure out rather quickly. Thereby corrupting your memory forever and ruining any possibility of you calling your son or daughter this name without making you think of prisons, or promiscuity or stupid nicknames. It's a smart way to be...these secretive name givers, but NO FUN.

3. There are those who are extra sensitive, some to the point of being paranoid, about the crime called Baby Name Stealing. They don't want to steal anyone's possible baby name, even if that person is 52 years old, and has NO chance in hell of ever using it, NOR do they want anyone to steal their top secret name, because that would be the crime to end all crimes. If your cousin's cousin's aunt's nephew's neighbor would "steal" the same name, it's over...those stupid copiers. They are left with no choice but to start the baby name deciding process all over again. They usually make you swear to secrecy, and you can tell in their pleading eyes that if you even whisper that name in amongst friends and relatives (especially relatives!), you will be written off forever.

(I've always been in category 1...I could never keep it secret, I'm pretty much set, and I could care less if you "steal" my name or not...I come from a family where we have like, 6 Patricks, 10 Kathy's/Kathleen's/Katherine's and 7 Joseph's...we don't get too crazy with originality...copy catters for sure!)

The whole process....no matter what way you spin it....is so fun to me. Even if your husband is like mine, and NEVER decides what he likes/doesn't like, and you both still continue to aruge/discuss in the delivery room, it's just FUN. The more kids you have, the less names to choose from and the more pressure to find a name that "goes" with the others. Have a plan...that's my advice. Pick a category and run with it....Catholic Saints, English royalty, Hollywood (cringe!)...whatever...consistency makes it all come together.

As a special gift, I am leaving all you with a small list of leftover girl's names (sorry...I'm out of boy's names) that I never (boo hoo) had the chance to use...they are up for grabs...just don't be mad if in the next 2 years or so, I have all-girl octuplets and steal every single one of these names back! (That was a joke!)

Mabel

Genevieve

Janey

Libby

Marjorie

Margaux

Bridget

Frances

Someone's got to use them! They are too cute to go to waste!

On Spanking

Mark 10:13 Then they brought little children to Him, that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked those who brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was greatly displeased and said to them, "let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God." Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it." and He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.

________________________________

Awhile back, I wrote a post about childbirth, and prefaced it with saying it's one of those subjects, that if brought up in a roomful of mothers, can make everyone squirm in their seats. There are a handful of these subjects...and we all know what they are...that possess the ability to hold in their grasp strong opinions, emotional past experiences, and heated debates.

I will warn you right now...this is not a happy, go-lucky post.

Recently something hit me hard that I just have to talk about. I have been reading a very inspiring, touching book by a Christian author about motherhood and the strong vocation it is. When I bought the book from Amazon, a few recommendations came up below my purchase for other books by different authors...as in, "You'd like these too"...I clicked on one I had heard suggested before...one of those books I believe is "making the rounds". I checked out the ratings...and found it was pretty much divided between one star and five stars. I was surprised...just because I had this assumption that it was a beautifully inspiring book...the title and the picture, the premise...but when I checked out the criticism, I was shocked. Apparently there was an entire chapter on spanking! Like in...it's good! Complete with how-to's, age recommendations, an explanation on "why" it's so necessary...seriously, sick stuff in my opinion.

Call me naive, but parents still spank? And there are popular books NOW that condone this behavior? In 2009? WHAT???!!! When I read what this author wrote about this form of discipline, I seriously felt sick to my stomach. And it takes a lot to make me feel that way. I just felt so "icky" the rest of the day...that this author, as a grown man, as someone who can influence parents, can actually believe what he is writing...as a parent, he sees this method "turn out" good? And that there are some of us moms who actually discard our gut feelings, what we KNOW is right and turn our inner spirit away from our children, towards someone we don't even know...and listen to this garbage?!

Let me tell you something I KNOW FOR SURE:

Spanking will NOT make your children behave better. MAYBE at that immediate time and place, it will make them stop what they are doing out of pain and fear. MAYBE it will make it look, to you and to others, that it "worked". But be prepared...if you practice this form of discipline often, in more ways than one, you will create a ripple effect of emotional damage that you can never ever fix.

If you are spanking it the name of religion...in the name of Jesus (as this seems to be a "popular" reason)...you are doing the opposite of everything he has ever taught. Can you see him physically hurting a child? Raising his hand towards a child? In the name of ANYTHING? That's laughable. I've heard it before...the old "Spare the rod, spoil the child." Well, I don't care WHO said it, WHEN they said, or WHERE it's found in the Bible...it's wrong. Yes, if that's what whoever wrote thousands of years ago really did mean that we should HIT our children, I am telling you, it is WRONG. If you spank in the name of Christianity, you might want to revisit Jesus Christ and everything he has ever stood for. He treated and talked about children as if they were GOD himself...the closest thing to pure innocence and goodness as you could ever get.

Absolutely, discipline is necessary in raising children. LOVING your children IS disciplining them. LOVING your children is NOT physically HURTING them. If you have to HIT your children to make them learn, you are NOT parenting correctly in the first place.

How to LOVE/DISCIPLINE your child:

Children need your attention. They need to trust you, and to know that you love them. They need your instruction in words. They need to model behavior. They need you to know their limitations...I'll tell you when I've felt the urge spank a child (and we all do!), it's because I've made the wrong choices! Not them! I've expected too much of them, I've skipped a nap, I haven't been consistent and clear in my expectations, I've dragged them on too many errands, I've stretched meal times too long! I've been too busy with other things...material things, worldly things, things so much LESS important than a spirit of MY child. Break downs happen because of US. If your child's behavior stinks, look at yourself good and hard....change YOUR behavior, change your lifestyle.

I think spanking is the "easy way out". It's a quick fix. It's a way of "training" a child, without doing the work. But we all learn....quick fixes all come back to haunt us right? You might see a change in behavior, but NOT in the behavior you want...everything you are trying to "train" against, will show up...anger, aggression, mistrust, dishonesty...the list goes on and on. After all...you reap what you sow.

There is NO right way to spank. There is NO "proper procedure" to follow. I've read spanking is acceptable if you don't do it in anger, and if you explain WHY you are doing it. That's more twisted than ever in so many ways. "I'm going to inflict physical pain on you, because you just hit your sister? I am not angry, but I just want you to hurt." It doesn't take an intelligent person to figure out how backwards that is!

Sometimes you might hear, see or think, "Geez, what that kid needs is a good old spanking!" I guarantee that what that child needs is EVERYTHING but a spanking! I think in the older generations, NOT spanking is associated with overly permissive parenting...where the child rules the roost and any behavior goes. Yes, there is a prevalence of that today...but I can assure you, it's not a result of not hitting the children...it's a result of parents being unwilling to spend time teaching their children the right way to behave. Unstructured environments, no bedtimes, no regular meals, no predictable schedule...the list is long. I think it's lazy parenting...and it has nothing to do with the prevalence of spanking...they are one in the same in a way...the easy way out.

What's the hard stuff?

Attention, love, change of scenery, a good healthy meal, a good nap, a good book, consistency, hugs, a stern conversation, a calm environment, a clear set of enforced rules, a time out to refocus, strong parental relationships, a long walk, some fresh air, a loving grandma, a safe home....the stuff that takes a heck of a lot more time than hitting them does. The stuff that takes a piece of you...your LOVE, your SPIRIT, your TIME.

__________________________________________

PS...For the moms who asked in the comments...just a quick answer:

I love Dr. Sears' book called The Discipline Book...read it when my oldest was just a little guy and loved it. I can't say enough about this book.

I have never read the book 123 Magic but heard it discussed at play group a long long time ago...when my oldest were really little, and use it all the time...I can seriously count on one hand how many times I've gotten to 3 with all the kids...if I did...what did 3 bring? A removal from the situation...time out in essence, maybe a stern talking to if needed. But like I said...there is magic in that counting, and I've never really read the book, just loved the premise.

I also LOVE the book Parenting with Dignity by Mac Blesdoe...a WONDERFUL book, old-fashioned, logical, beautiful and thoughtful especially for older children. (He is the father of Drew Blesdoe...a well know quarterback?...I didn't know that till I read it.)

For Christian based parenting: Anything by Sally and Clay Clarkson. Beautiful stuff. Clay Clarkson wrote a specific book on discipline called Hearfelt Discipline.

They Don't Make Them Like They Used To!

Did you grow up playing with all the Fisher Price Little People sets? I did…that’s just about ALL my sisters and brothers played with. You will not believe how many memories one of these little sets triggers. Up in the playroom, for hours we played! I just had to have one…I bid and won the School House on Ebay…I’m addicted now…the bus is in the mail, and plans to purchase the house and the garage and maybe the houseboat (with that springy little flag sticking up!), are in my head…just have to wait and bide my time for the right deal.

This arrived on my doorstep looking like new. You know what surprised me the most? How sturdy and well made this old thing is compared to the CRAP hollow plastic stuff they make today. Jeff and I…I mean the KIDS of course, have had so much fun playing with it.

Enjoy: Who is this masked man? We can’t figure it out…obviously an outcast from another set…

A Cross Country Round Up

We had a great cross country season. Abbey chose not to run this year, which is OK, although she felt a lot of pressure from many others...they needed ONE more girl to "count" in the meets. I told her she needed to stick to her guns if she didn't want to commit though...and she did...she already has a lot going on and she need to learn to resisit the pressure! (Something all of us girls need to learn, when it comes to "joining", right? I'm teaching her young!)
Andrew of course, only had a chance to run in ONE meet, which I sadly missed, since that was the weekend I spent blind from my scratched corneas. Oh well, what can you do? Let the guilt eat you alive?
Matthew did fantastic. What a runner...and a sprinter. He's stealth...he passes so many competitors in the final sprint to the end, it's unbelievable. You think he's all done, but he turns it up one more gear. In his last meet of the season, he finished 31rst out of at least 150 runners, and he's only in 4th grade!...he's racing against 5th and 6th graders.

Next season...we can't wait.
We're proud of you Matt! (and Andrew for your stellar recovery, and Abbey for your inner strength and resistance!)

Some New Recipes

I brought back my Cooking On Clover Lane blog, with a new look and some new recipes. I learned it was actually less time consuming posting there, then it was linking all the recipes on the side bar here. I added my newest addiction:

Andrewisms Once Again

Andrew insisted that I needed to post this coloring page on my 'bah-log'. How could I turn him down?
He mispronounces words all the time, but you can NOT let him know...he will either get extremely embarrassed or argue with you...plus it's so cute so who wants to correct him anyways?

At his parochial school they sometimes have a day where they don't have to wear a uniform. It's called a very official and serious Catholic school sort of name: Alternate Dress.
Yesterday was picture day and Andrew told me he needed to wear "Ultimate Dress".
How awesome is that?
It's sticking around here forever.

We have a park across town that the older kids used to have tons of baseball and soccer practices and games. I can not tell you how sick I was of driving to this same place every single day. It's called Rivercrest.
Except Andrew thought I was saying RiverCRUST. He still insists it's RiverCRUST Park.
Such a better name! I can't help myself...it's a habit now.

Not mispronunciations but still funny:
A couple days ago he said to me,"Mom I really liked the hospital!"
I said, "Really?" (It didn't look like he had much fun at the time.)
He told me, "First they brought me a whole tray of breakfast right to my bed. Then they were going to bring me lunch, but we had to leave. I just KNOW, if I would have stayed longer, they would have brought me dinner too. Isn't that awesome?"

The night before last, after bathtime, Andrew was experimenting with his hair in the mirror. (One of his favorite past times, not unlike his father.) He came up with a new hair style which involved a big hair swoop in the front. Alas, when he awoke, it had fallen back down to where it should have been. He hadn't forgotten though, that he had planned to wear his new hair style to school and begged me to help him with whatever products I could find. I found the mousse, loaded his hair down with water and a big dollop and he shaped it up to where he wanted it.

I asked him, "Andrew are you SURE you want to go to school like this? I've never seen anyone with a hair style like this before!"

He said to me, "Well, now you have."

And off he went.

Just Some Stuff

50 Random and I'm Absolutely Sure Incredibly Boring Things About Me

1. I have a love/hate relationship with blogging. Love writing/hate the computer.
2. I am the 2nd of 5 children...3 girls, and 2 boys...I'm on the right.
3. My absolute favorite books in the world...Little House series. I wanted to be Laura.
4. My older sister was (is) really athletic, and my younger sister was (is) really smart. I just liked dolls.

5. Jeff was the first boy I ever met in college.

6. I loved my elementary school. It was a perfect little Catholic school connected to a convent on acres of rolling hills and orchards. It had a pool and tennis courts and acres of playgrounds. It was gorgeous. The nuns were perfectionists. We had to pick up little teeny papers and crumbs off the floor everyday before we were dismissed from the buses. Those janitors must have loved working there.
7. I switched to a public school my junior year of high school. I was at an all girls Catholic school before that. Wish I hadn't. They couldn't have been more different.
8. I grew up in a very structured, strict home. We had few toys, almost no TV, and worked hard. 9. I think TV is boring. I did as a child too. But that doesn't mean I can skip an episode of The Office.
10. I played outside as a child, every single day of my life.

11. I hate my hair. I want THIS girl's hair. (I know...hair envy is immature. I can't help myself.)
12. I was a super strict vegetarian in my 20's. Where I lived, people looked at me like I was slowly killing myself, or a totally crazy nutball.
13. I get hyperemesis when I'm pregnant. It started out terrible with my first, and very gradually decreased as I got to #8 pregnancy. It makes you want to die.
14. When I was in junior high I ran track. My coach used to make me run the 800...I think only because I was so shy I wouldn't say NO like the other girls did. One day he desperately needed someone to run the 200...I was standing next to him, so he threw me in there. I came in first. You should have seen his face. I came in first in every 200 that year...till we got to the regionals...then no way...
15. My junior and senior year, I ran cross country. There were 2 girls who always came in first and second. They were really popular and best friends. I was afraid of them, so I never beat them. I got my nerve up once. The next day when the principal announced who came in first for the team over the PA, everyone stared at me. I sweated bullets.
16. I think it’s easy to tell right from wrong.
17. I'm super duper allergic to wool. I can not wear even a teeny tiny bit of it.
18. I have a sugar addiction. I have to give it up totally. Moderation is NOT the key.
19. When I was younger we had 3 exchange students. One from Japan, one from Germany and one from Ireland. They all bugged me. It's really hard to live with someone very different for months and years. I didn't enjoy it at all.
20. My senior prom was a disaster. A hilarious disaster. I got dumped the week before and ended up going with the date of the girl who I was dumped for. (Does that even make sense?) I did not like this guy. My mom didn't either. When he left the prom early, I refused to go with him. He couldn't get back in...a strict rule. He HATED me after that. He think he and his friends and their dates were just going to drink somewhere so I didn't care. But he made my life miserable at every summer party I went to after that. What a jerk!

21. One of my weakness's: I analyze people too much. Why do they act like that? What makes them behave the way they do?
22. I wish...I could relax in my role as mother. I worry constantly how my kids are going to "turn out". It's not that I have high expectations...I want them all to marry great people, and be good parents and providers. That's not asking too much is it? I worry constantly about future struggles. I want them to love me, and know that I loved them always.
23. I think homework is ridiculous. It really ruins my life. I'll take 10 minutes of math problems, that's it.
24. I am terrible at buying shoes. I know all women are supposed to love shoes, but I detest them. I think most of them are ugly, boots especially. It could be that I wear size 11.
25. My best friend and I have known each other since we were babies. I love her. Her senior pic just so she’ll be mad at me.

26. My wedding was awesome...but if I could change one thing, I'd tone down the puffy sleeves. What was I thinking?

27. I grew up in a cabin in the woods. My Dad built a large addition on it himself. He can build anything. I knew every nook and cranny of those woods. The squirrels and chipmunks were my friends. And now you think I'm weird.

28. Halloween is my favorite. Something to do with fairy dresses and/or candy.

29. I thought Abbey would be a boy. I told everyone she was because I really thought for sure. I really only pictured myself as a mother of sons. When she was born and they said, "Girl!" I started crying and said, "I knew it! I always wanted a girl!" Jeff looked at me like I was bonkers.
30. I've never been overseas. I hate flying. Totally claustrophobic. There is NO air on those planes to breath.
31. If I did go overseas, I 'd visit my brother and sister-in-law in Ireland.

32. I slept with all my babies. It's a terrible habit and one that is not easy to break. Jeff doesn't much appreciate it either.
33. I was a late, late, late bloomer.
34. I miss my friend Gina everyday. I keep thinking she's not really gone. She was gorgeous, and gentle and an incredible wife and mother. I want to talk to her one more time. That's not really true...I want to talk to her for the rest of my life.
35. Father of the Bride II is a terrible movie, but one of my favorites.
36. I have super light sensitive eyes. I must wear sunglasses all the time, even if it’s cloudy. I think some people assume I’m trying to be cool, but I’m really just not trying to be blind.

37. Jeff is smart...it's annoying. He can figure out any math problem on earth and then tries to explain it to me. I tell him I'll never get it...I sat out in the hallway in 2nd grade math with the special tutor. It was humiliating. His explanations remind me of that humiliation so I just tell him to keep his frivolous math knowledge to himself.
38. I had a speech impediment up till 5th grade. I couldn't say my r's...like for four, I'd say fow. It was embarrassing, but my friends thought it was cute. I would NEVER raise my hand in class. If your child has a speech impediment get it fixed ASAP. My mom took me to a speech pathologist one or two times and boom, I was cured.
39. I broke my finger when I was little...my older sister dropped a brick on it. I also had to get stitches in my knee...I jumped off the swing...I think my sister had something to do with that too?
40. I've always thought winter was awful. But if it doesn't snow on Christmas, it totally doesn't feel like Christmas.
41. I didn't like college. But I forced myself through it to get my degree. It wasn't a choice in my family...which I'm glad for.
42. I wish I never got stressed out. It makes me snappy and crabby. With 5 kids, I constantly have to work on this. Some mothers, no matter how many kids, are calm all the time. I think these mothers have the happiest homes. It's something I strive for all the time.
43. I never drink alcohol of any kind. I don't like the taste and it makes me sick. I also think not having full capacity physically and mentally is a dangerous state.
44. I wanted to be a ballerina SO badly.
45. I am not a touchy, huggy, kissy person. (except to my children) I wish I was and constantly work on this. It is not natural to me.
46. I think I had a sensory disorder when I was younger. If I look at old photos, I can tell how every single outfit made me feel. If my socks were bunched I couldn’t think. My Grandma once braided my hair too loose and I thought I was going to die. (I loved that outfit below except for the elastic on the sleeves.)

47. I love fabrics, but I don't love to sew. I tolerate it.
48. I faked sick everyday for weeks in 1rst grade. I missed my mom and my baby brothers. The school nurse was awesome. She eventually caught on, and would trick me into going back to class. Lo and behold, I'd forget about my pain.
49. I have always been terrible at asking for help. Terrible!
50. Large groups make me nervous. I am much better one-on-one.

A Home’s Energy

Nor need we power or splendour, wide hall or lordly dome; the good, the true, the tender, these form the wealth of home.” Sarah J. Hale

Did you watch Stephanie Nielson on Oprah on Wednesday? Of course you did.

One of the things casually mentioned in the interview between Stephanie, Oprah, and the girl that visited Stephanie, was the “energy” of her home…warm, peaceful, and calm. Oprah made a comment about how you walk into some houses and you feel the energy and think “get me out of here”. That could have possibly been my house last week…oops. Really, I was sick, but I was also worn thin, impatient, sometimes plain mean. I yelled, I scolded, I “hurried up” way too many times. And you know what happened? That energy spread…like energy tends to do…no one was getting along, no one was kind and patient and nice to each other, no one listened, no one made an effort to help (without being asked repeatedly), and the noise level went up and up and up.

Sometimes I reject the ‘master of energy’ role that has been given to me, as a mother. I feel sorry for myself. Who wants that responsibility every single day? But whether I WANT it or not is not an option. No choice there. In a backwards sort of way, with that responsibility comes a power….a gift….whatever you want to call it. I’ve posted a little reminder above my kitchen sink of how I want the energy in my home to feel…just a reminder that if I feel these things in my spirit they will radiate and bounce of the walls and into children’s hearts. The more beings in a home, the stronger the energy needed…the more hearts to full. The more teenagers and toddlers…you better have the cardiac strength to bounce hard.

The real work? Getting the energy I want to exude into my heart every day. Making the effort to know what fills me up, and then committing to do those things every single day. That’s the hard part….every single day. Knowing what drains my battery life quickly, knowing how long my charge lasts, and knowing what fills it back up again…and reminding myself of all that often. That right there is the SECRET to making a home a loving, happy, welcoming one.

An Autumn Walk

It’s been chillier here than usual. I am not ready for winter…I never am anymore. I’ll take snow on Christmas, maybe New Year’s Eve too. After that, I’d like to just start right up on April 1. Perfect.

I’ve also been under the weather…remember my Monday post? For gosh sake, I got a terrible fever and chills and aches that lasted 3 nights and 3 days...yes it very possibly could have been THAT (piggy) flu. It's not that bad, really! OK, it was bad at night, but not the worst flu I've ever had. And I would have never gotten the vaccination anyways. But if I watch the news and read the paper...I'm supposed to be dead! Alleluia!

Anyways, it’s also served as a wake up call to me that I need to take better care of myself…I’ve been eating just terrible and that’s an awful way to treat your body. I usually never get sick so obviously I've battered my immune system. My family needs me…just 3 days, and everyone is out of sorts. The fever has burned some sense into me.

In spite of all this…Patrick and I really needed to get some fresh air so off we went yesterday around the block and back again. I snapped a few pictures because the light was beautiful.

This is the best situation for all parties involved:

It's been really windy here lately...someone lost their house:

Must we consistently veer off the path? Sidewalks are SO constraining, are they not?

My rose are still blooming!

And the grand finale...home at last.

Zip It, Lady

Right after Patrick was born, we were all at church during a very crowded service...maybe it was a holiday....I don't remember that part. But I had my hands full and was slightly nervous...you know how that goes. All of us shoved in a pew near the front will do that to me. I like easy access to exit. Fast and quietly.

Get to the point.

There was an older frowny lady behind us. She was with a couple friends I think, but I wasn't paying much attention, except to notice she was really paying LOTS of attention to us. Red flag right there. And I swear, we were ALL being well behaved, even baby Patrick. Still, I felt her eyes just waiting it out. At some point during the service, Andrew was keeping busy by taking some of the song books out of the little rack and was stacking them up behind him on his seat in a neat little pile. He was at the other end of our group, near Jeff, and really, what he was doing was quite harmless. This crabby, nosy lady just could NOT resist saying something. Her time had come and she pounced on it. She muttered something to Jeff along the lines of, "He's not supposed to be doing that you know!" and I saw Jeff smile so nice and friendly at her, but also give her no acknowledgment of her correction. Out of the corner of my eye, (I didn't even want her to see me notice), I saw her get a little huffy and puffy. The rest of the service, her eagle eye continued, but I could tell she wouldn't dare speak up again.

After church, I asked him about it. Didn't that make you mad, I asked? He said no, he could care less. He said she muttered things the entire time. I said to him, "How could you be so relaxed? Didn't you have a burning feeling coming to your face? Didn't you feel either a rush to correct Andrew and get mad at HIM even though he was doing no harm, or a desire to lash out with some quick and effective remark to HER? Didn't you want to tell her that usually we get compliments at church on how well behaved our kids are? Didn't you want to tell she might want to try listening to the priest instead of thinking mean thoughts?" He sort of looked at me like I was crazy. I couldn't help but think of some subtle, on-the-surface-polite remarks I could make if she dare say one more thing. You know....those awesome comments you think of when it's too late? But this incident and Jeff's reaction really made me start to think about my reactions.

I really DISLIKE when my children are corrected by someone else. I guess because it rarely happens and I think my kids are really good kids and that it's completely my call when and if I discipline my children. Of course my kids are not perfect...who is? At first, as a younger parent, I would feel the need to jump right on my kids and "agree" with the person's comment by over correcting my child. I would feel embarassed by their stupid comment, so I would react by pleasing this stranger by sort of "selling out" my child. That's twisted. I would recognize that and in turn it would make me angry at myself. Almost all the time, it's been more the stranger's problem...some kind of weird power or control issue on their part.

I learned from Jeff though. Of course, sometimes you know the commenter is really being nice and means well and comes across as kind and understanding. If my child is doing something really dangerous or wrong, I would be glad for the head's up, but almost all of the time I know exactly where my children are and what my children are doing.

Yes, I see he's climbing up the steps. I have a mother's sixth sense, don't you know?

No, you are right, my toddler has no shoes on. I was in a rush. That's why he's in the grocery cart, duh.

Yup, no coat today. She purposely left it in the car and I pick my battles.

No, I don't consider stacking song books neatly in a small pile a terrible infraction.

Really, the baby really is warm enough. It's 97 degrees out!

Yes, those rocks do look slippery. I've told him that twice and apparently he desires to learn the hard way.

Yes, my toddler did just give you a mean look. Maybe because you are a stranger and in his face. Back away, dude. You're scaring me too.

All that goes through my head but I think finally, thanks to Jeff, I've figured it out. I act like a clueless idiot. I DON'T react. I don't say a thing. I just smile like there is air in my brain and nothing else. I love it. It works wonders. No energy in my mind wasted. No doubts of my parenting abilities. No negative feelings on my part. Confidence, with a touch of purposeful idiocy. There's nothing like it. It takes crabby people off guard and instantly diffuses a situation. It's actually fun. Try it!

Hiding Places

I love new crayons. I love coloring. I love good coloring books...which don't really exist anymore, do they? We get vintagey coloring pages online.

I must tell you what I received in the mail last week. It's just the best thing ever. Melissa is a blogging friend and I've hosted a giveaway before from her shop Two Little Tots. She makes these "Crayon Rolls". She sent one to me because she is nice. They are precious.

I will confess....when I unwrapped my package and just died over it's cuteness, I ran to my room before any of the kids could see it, and hid my crayon roll in my underwear drawer. Yes, I did, I swear. I love it. I don't want to share. You can't make me.

(As you can see above, I finally did share...but only because we were in desperate need of the red crayon. It's back in it's secret hiding place again. For a little while I want it to be just mine. Is that weird? I don't care if it is.)

You can get yourself one (or someone more age appropriate) here. Every kid would love one...and they're only $15, + a tiny amount of shipping and handling. They even come with the crayons and in tons of awesome colors and patterns! Happy Coloring!

Coloring Pages: the Halloween ones are really cute!

Gimme A Break!

I've been cursed by injury since I dropped that darn 4x4x8 for the tree house on my foot and dislocated the bones. That hurt like heck for a long time.

As soon as my foot felt better and I didn't have to limp around...I slept in my contacts one night (which I do occasionally when I am too tired to get up out of bed once I'm all tucked in) and I woke up unable to see. I took my contacts out to refresh them and holey moley I couldn't open them again. For the entire weekend.

The next weekend I broke a filling in my tooth and instead of just falling out, it crammed inward into my gums. That was pleasant.

This last weekend...I woke up on Sunday morning unable to move my neck in any direction. Not just a stiff neck, but an incredibly painful stiff neck. The pain radiated up to my brain to give me a great little headache.

I'm afraid to ask "What's next?"

The weekend are NOT a good time for me to be sitting on my behind unable to walk, see, eat, or move.

Someone uncurse me PLEASE!

It’s Worth the $10

Mousekin’s Golden House With Added Bonus Feature

This is my favorite childhood book. I loved it then and I love it now. It's just beautifully illustrated and captures the mood of autumn perfectly. I thought I had lost my copy and I panicked. Did you know it’s out of print? A copy on Amazon sells for $112! I searched high and low and found my little book up in the attic. My favorite part:

At last, warm and cozy against the winter air.

BUT WAIT…what’s this? There’s a boy with a machine gun…fighting off aliens single-handedly…spraying bullets every which way! Possibly Mousekin's body guard? That fancy contraption on his head is throwing me off.

It's a never-seen-before illustration…a bonus section!

Do you think this last chapter of Mousekin’s little autumn adventure makes MY copy worth even more than $112?

I can’t believe otherwise…it’s one of kind!

(And now I think I remember why it was up in the attic, safe and sound?)

How To Make Your Photos Appear Bigger In Your Posts

This is the easiest way to make your pics look bigger without using a secondary site (like flickr) to resize your photos, and without using a different program to type your posts (like Windows Live Writer). Just plain older Blogger and just plain old photos from folders. Nothing fancy here.

Upload your pictures like you usually do...I always use Large as my Image size.

Once they are uploaded, click on the little tab above the Preview button...you are going to go out of the Compose mode, and into the Edit HTML tab. You will see a bunch of gobbley-gook...see the pic below. Every picture will have it's own little paragraph. You want to find these things for each photo:
WIDTH: 247px;
HEIGHT:400px;
(They might be different numbers...it doesn't matter!)
You are going to delete BOTH of these things, including the ; at the end.
Don't be afraid. Wipe 'em out.

(And if they don't exist, maybe because you uploaded your photos directly from Picasa using the Blog This button, just skip to the next step.)

THEN, you are going to hunt for:
/s400/
(It might be a different number too, but it will definitely have the /s--/.
This determines your size.
400 is the size that you uploaded as Large.
Erase 400 (or whatever # was there originally) and type in 576 for a size bigger.
640 makes it even larger.
If that's not big enough for you, try 800.
Make sure you just change the numbers. All the other gobbley-gook is important.
Like this:
/s576/
or

/s640/

or
/s800/

(Also...if you are NOT using the Minima Stretch Template (the template that goes all the way across your screen with no blank spaces on the sides) /s800/ will not fit in your margins. The picture will look funny and cropped. Either stick with just /s576/ or change your template, which is easy to do.)

Once you have made your changes for each photo, click back to Compose or Preview and you should see that your photos are much larger.

That's it!

Just A Look

That's my Dad. He used to do the same thing for me and my sisters and brothers when I was young...pull us on the back of the tractor. It was so fun...I'm not sure why, really, because it doesn't seem so fun now...it seems like the perfect recipe for smelly fumes and motion sickness.

When I saw this picture (Abbey took it with my camera) I had to laugh. Look at that exchange between Grandpa and Patrick. I wish I knew what was being said/thought. It's always nice to see Patrick with a little trepidation on his face. We don't get that often. Usually it's "dive right in let's deal with the consequences later" look.

Andrew has gotten a kick out of figuring out the whole confusing thought that Grammy and Grampy are my parents. Isn't that always the cutest thing when that all clicks? He just loves that I have a mom and a dad. Why? He will purposely say, "Your MOM is calling for you, Mom."..just to see me 'have' to obey. He told me the other day that I am not the boss of him, because I have a mom and dad, and therefore I am a kid, just like him.

While we are on the subjects of grandparents...
I hardly ever get envious. Of anyone for anything. Really, I got over that in high school. Maybe there were moments here or there in college. Stupid things, of course. I really thought it was such a wasteful, icky, ungrateful emotion and I remember vowing to myself that I would not spend my life wanting what other's have. To be content is something I strive for all the time, and nothing disrupts contenment like envy. I'm not just talking material goods...I'm talking about YOUR LIFE. Whatever you've been dealt.

I am not perfect though..
...one thing I am envious of is my friends whose parents live close enough to give relief often in the form of regular babysitting/entertainment/special date nights/one-on-one outings with the grandkids often. That just has to be heaven. When you've just had it...when your kid needs extra love and attention...when you need just a couple of hours of "catch up" time or when you don't want to drag toddlers on important appts. or errands. If you have this awesome perk, you better not be complaining about crapola. (I'm just kidding...kind of.)

I can talk myself out of that envy quick though...as usual.

I know it's all relative...it seemed like everyone I knew at one time had that 'instant grandparent access', but in truth, it's not that common. We don't live across the country, or world, like some do, and both our parents are here for emergency relief times (and both just put in some critical hours with our last little hospital stay, which we are very thankful for!) and will babysit for our annual weekend trip sans kids. There are also many couples who have lost their parents, and have to live with the sadness of never having their children know grandma and grandpa. Who am I to whine?

Putting things in perspective always lead to gratitude, right?
Wait, didn't I say that already this week?