Monica's New Pen

And

2010-03-05T13:56:00.000-08:00

my three-year-old informed me today that the lullaby CD we were listening to in the car "was telling you to go to sleep, Mommy, and us to stay up."

Any Friday during Lent I feel like the lion in "Madagascar" when meat flashes before his eyes every time he looks at the zebra or other animals....fish fry tonight.

It is sunny and warm today. (Really. It's 43.) Kiddos are outside with sleeveless t-shirts, and one just handed me a spoon from the half-melted, glistening snow saying "I found the other one in January and this one today!" That is true.

Another Name

2010-03-04T17:08:00.000-08:00

A: "Mom, I think we should find another way to spell our name so Mrs. Jansen can recognize it better." (She meant pronounce.)

E loves jokes. He'll say "Guess what?!" and when we say "What?" he exclaims "Chicken nugget!" (Er, 'chicken butt' to you; and yes, this is the boy who can spot the Mickey-donalds from every freeway.) He also loves to say "Knock knock" - "Who's there?" - "Apple" - "Apple Who?" - "Applesauce!"

This is all cute only because he's not even two so every word he says is cute. I don't expect you to be amused. But I am his mommy...

February

2010-02-16T11:28:00.000-08:00

Today A told me she wished it was summer "Because I miss hearing the birds squeaking."

It is also Mardi Gras and A & J are bouncing a ball in the living room; with every bounce, they are saying "A-Baczki" (as in, rhymes with "Paczki"). If you don't know what this means, I feel a little sorry for you. (But seriously, you can have an endless supply of doughnuts in this country, any time of Lent or not.......)

Finally, a milestone that I am so proud of: My not-quite-two-year-old asks every time we are getting on or off the highway to "Go to Mickey-Donalds," especially if he sees the sign. It think this qualifies as early literacy, right?

Recon"Silly"ation

2010-01-25T10:47:00.000-08:00

You Catholic moms will appreciate this one.

A few weeks I left to go to Reconciliation. Alena (5) asked where I was going.

Me: "To church - to something called 'reconciliation.'"
A: "What is 'reconciliation'?"
Me: "It's where you can tell Jesus that you are sorry for your sins."
..................
A: "Then why does it have the word "Silly" in it???!"

***
Someone asked what Evan's middle name was, to which Joel (3) replied, "It's Dinosaur."

The Fireman Who Didn't Do It

2009-10-04T19:45:00.000-07:00

Can the Right Kinds of Play Teach Self-Control?

According to this article, yes it can, even better than a 'preacademic' approach to learning (i.e. copying ABC's).
<http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/27/magazine/27tools-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&em>

Dramatic play, he said, was the training ground where children learned to regulate themselves, to conquer their own unruly minds. In the United States, we often associate play with freedom, but to Vygotsky, dramatic play was actually the arena where children’s actions were most tightly restricted. When a young boy is acting out the role of a daddy making breakfast, he is limited by all the rules of daddy-ness. Some of those limitations come from his playmates: if he starts acting like a baby (or a policeman or a dinosaur) in the middle of making breakfast, the other children will be sure to steer him back to the eggs and bacon. But even beyond that explicit peer pressure, Vygotsky would say, the child is guided by the basic principles of play. Make-believe isn’t as stimulating and satisfying — it simply isn’t as much fun — if you don’t stick to your role. And when children follow the rules of make-believe and push one another to follow those rules, he said, they develop important habits of self-control.

I also would to add that when self-control is lacking, it is also quite convenient for a young child to have another 'identity' to appeal to, and they do figure this out...

Joel was at the counter one evening with his fireman hat on, driving around imaginary trucks and generally playing the role. As his behavior began to deteriorate (hitting his sister), dad warned him that if he didn't stop he would get a time-out. He continued to provoke, so as John headed over to administer the consequence, Joel began to argue. "I didn't hit Alena! I didn't!" "Joel, you DID," John countered. "And now you're going to get punished." In a moment of desperation, a light flickered in Joel's eyes and with a slight triumph he squealed, "But Daddy, I just a fireman!" So who done it, eh?

---

A few months ago when the milkweed seeds were floating around in the air, Alena would catch them like butterflies, and of one she announced, "This is Elizabeth." Elizabeth hung around for a day or two, and then milkweed season came to an end. About a week ago, Joel found a lone milkweed seed by the baseboard of the family room. "I found Elizabeth!" he cried gladly, picking 'her' up to admire. Then yesterday as he was getting dressed he got something (probably a piece of lint) in his mouth. "What do you have in your mouth, Joel?" I asked. He swallowed. "It's yucky," and then matter-of-factly, "It's probably Elizabeth." Bye bye, Elizabeth.

----
Evan is learning new words every day. He is learning to be polite, and every time we tell him to say "Thank you" he dutifully replies, "Elcome." ("You're welcome.")

A Little Bit of Controversy

2009-07-21T18:27:00.000-07:00

So as I said last time, apparently in order to keep people interested, I have to add a little bit of controversy to my blog. I wonder if I also have to write more than once a month. When I think of controversial topics, my instinct is to go for the guttural....but....

"Don't write about Obama - don't write about politics," my much more peace-minded husband suggested. "Think of something different."

He already knows that our president seems to me like a wolf in sheep's clothing; an iron fist in a velvet glove...Oh, and he's sheepy and velvety, to be sure! Just watch out, dear Americans, and don't let him too close to your henhouse, or your wallet. But, I guess if the Pope can give Obama a fair chance, so can I. Loved this article from the NY Times: The Audacity of the Pope

And while we're at it, I ran across a picture that I don't think needs any more words, so instead of writing about it I'll just let you look at a picture from John Quense photography, which I admired:
(Go ahead!)

You see that I cannot avoid mentioning Obama or politics, but I can refrain from expounding.

Until today, the only less controversial topics I could think of were things like Paper vs. Plastic (hey, serious ecological consequences!) and other equally boring questions. But, today the Times came through for me again, and this one is good. It's got all the elements of a brewing controversy - uncomfortable statistics, an implication on all of us to curb a behavior we're all guilty of, and a government cover-up to top it all off. If you have ever:

a) Realized you had drifted into the other lane while driving
b) Oops, cut off a semi while merging onto the highway
c) Done either of the above and not even noticed it because you were on your phone (see, now you're wondering, aren't you?!)

then read Driven to Distraction. It seems like every single time I see someone do a really senseless thing on the road... sure enough, there's the phone. According to the article, "motorists talking on a phone are four times as likely to crash as other drivers, and are as likely to cause an accident as someone with a .08 blood alcohol content."

It's not really that controversial. It's as simple as this: Get off your wireless when you're on the road. I am.

I Dropped Off Facebook Today

2009-07-01T20:32:00.000-07:00

I might be back. But in a moment of resolve, I typed in that cryptic password that you have to see on the screen to actually verify that you want to deactivate your account, and now I'm "gone." It only took me three tries to actually pull the trigger. The first two times Facebook asked me for that word I changed my mind. So I'm gone until I decide to come back.

We spent a week at the lake and for those days, I was almost totally unplugged. It was a tenuous peace (and it was peaceful), but so easily shattered by reminders of the real world. I was always just one byte or so away from thinking about major decisions, disturbing news, or the problems of the world at large. However, it was worthwhile to remember how to do nothing, and that is an art. The perfection of grilled lamb; the freedom of jet skiing on open water; the laziness of watching other vacationers, including our kids, just play under the sky; and just getting away from the daily routine all amounted to just what the doctor ordered.

I read that "Mommy blogs" are boring, and that to keep anyone interested, you have to stir things up a little and make (some) people mad. So next time I write, I'm going to have a little controversey for you.

In fact, here's a little statement just to get you going:
History will be kind to both George W. Bush and to Michael Jackson.

***
The Mysteries of Life
A recurring question for Alena throughout her life has been, "Where was I before I was born?" Today the topic came up again. She was really getting at trying to understand the beginning of time (Woa). It went from "Where was I before I was in your tummy" to "Where was everyone In The Beginning." I explained the creation story as I know it - God, nothing, then day and night, land and water, creatures, and finally the human race. I concluded by telling her that it was "kind of a mystery - we just don't completely know." To this statement she dreamily replied with a sigh, "Somehow I ended up with two pieces of gum today," (the limit is one)... "And I just don't know how it happened!"

The Lawn
Joel was in the garage awhile back and pointing to the lawnmower asked, "It's a vacuum?"
"No Joel, it's a lawnmover."
He looked at me quizzically and conceded, "It's daddy's vacuum."
Joel is also getting smart these days, and a couple weeks ago suggested that John should put himself in timeout for not agreeing to Joel's request (I believe it was to push him on the swing). He said something like, "Daddy, you push me now or you go to timeout, OK?" And he wasn't really suggesting that he would put John there, but more that as a matter of conscience John should naturally impose this upon himself - Right?!

Minivan Mom in a College Town

2009-05-16T18:44:00.000-07:00

The strangest thought sprang into my mind a few weeks ago when driving through downtown Ann Arbor:
"My minivan could run over a little bike."
What could I possibly mean by such a cruel, not to mention un-ecologically sensitive statement? When I moved to Ann Arbor nearly ten years ago, I was a college student myself - but not here. Living here and going to college at Michigan State, one can never quite get away from that uneasy consciousness of being a student but not here. Not that U of M people think much about Michigan State, mind you. (Except on the occasion that they lose a major sporting event to their non-rival, which....well anyway....)

I used to love going downtown in the summertime when the locals - the people who actually live here for more than 9 months at a time - are out and about. Some of my best memories are hanging out with my friends, including my now-husband; wandering around Main Street; listening to music under the stars at Top of the Park; smelling the wonderful foods from all around the world.

However, I also sensed Ann Arbor's edge. A classmate of mine at MSU who was a pretty sharp guy and accomplished student told me his experience of going with the student section to a U of M/MSU basketball game in Ann Arbor: "I hate Ann Arbor."
"Really, why?" I had to question.
He paused. "Because I feel like a loser when I'm there."

In fact, I have learned that it is easy to feel this way around these parts even when you are an insider at "The U." (I used to think this was a really pretentious nickname, as if there were no other "U's" in Washtenaw County. Oh well. I now find it kind of endearing.) A Wolverine once told me that in fact because you have to be kind of smart to get into U of M, you are always bumping into people who are smarter than you.

So anyway, there is the enduring Ann Arbor, which I have always liked, and then there is the student territory where I always felt slightly uncomfortable when I was college student but not here. As I've moved further and further away from the college stage of my life, I've carved out my own life here which has included the office park where I used to work, the pediatrician's office, and the Meijer on Carpenter Rd. - all places where you're more than likely to find a lot of us permanent residents and not so much if you're looking for the U of M usuals. I moved further away from student territory both geographically and socially, and sometimes during the winter I'll realize it's been months since I've been around The U.

A few weeks ago, I found myself back down on Main Street during prime school hours. It was the usual scene - fighting for a parking space amid a mix of eclectic locals wearing everything from suits to various musical instruments, and a steady stream of students who don't think the red hand on the crosswalk applies to them. And it was then that I realized how when you are driving a '99 Odyssey, that awareness of being a student who didn't go here is strangely absent. I would never be confused for a student in this!

I am now in the same category of all those other 30-somethings who once went to college, maybe here; maybe not, but in any case it was when this crop of students was in, like, fourth grade. I say that my minivan could crush their bike as an utterly ridiculous statement of fact, with a dash of humor and a good deal of amiability. (I am a mom, remember? I am very concerned about keeping bikes intact; my kid's or anyone else's. I am slightly concerned that more of these fresh young faces aren't surrounded by helmets. I loved my bike in college and could write a whole blog just about bikes, but that's not really where I'm going here.)

I can look at these budding scholars who clearly didn't have to identify any traffic signs to achieve their rocket-high SAT scores, and I can think, seriously, that I hope Ann Arbor is as good to them as it has been to me. I don't feel so edgey down here in "U" town anymore, and I'm pretty sure that it's me who's changed. Becoming different than the students in a college town is an inevitability anyway, and now I can look on the temporary residents here more like I would look at my college-age siblings - with affection! and a little patience, knowing that even if they cross on red, the road will eventually open up. And I've got time.

Um, except...hold on, that's my cell phone; it's the babysitter - Gotta go.

--------
The Second Born
Sometimes when you are the second born, it is easier to just get on board; if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

My dad was over a couple weeks ago and Joel heard me refer to him as "Dad."
"Grandpa is not Dad!" he protested.
"Yes Joel, Grandpa is MY dad," I explained. This clearly disturbed his concept of how family relationships work, and for the rest of the day he would randomly and intermittenly exclaim "Grandpa is not your Dad!" and I would try to counter this.
Finally after one of Joel's objections, I told him "Ask Grandpa."
Joel turned to my dad, and my dad said, "Joel, do you know what? I AM your mommy's Dad!"
Joel was silent for a moment and then chimed firmly, "Me too."

Happy Birthday, and Peppermint Fizz

2009-04-13T12:57:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to Evan today!

----
Alena got a consequence today for fibbing. I asked her if she'd brushed her teeth, and she said 'yes' when she hadn't. As a result, her new Pez dispenser went up in the cupboard for the rest of the day and we had a lengthy discussion about the importance of telling the truth.

Later in the day, she was watching "Strawberry Shortcake - The Berry Best Pet Yet" and came to a part where Peppermint Fizz offers a false compliment to Strawberry in order to manipulate.

"Peppermint Fizz is lying," Alena suddenly exclaimed. "She's saying that Strawberry Shortcake has the best pets, but she really thinks her own pets are the best."

"And what happens to people who lie?" I was compelled to inquire.

"She doesn't get in trouble......"Alena remarked, and then after a pause added, "Because she doesn't have a mommy."
------

His Eye Is On the Sparrow

2009-03-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

One verse that has been imprinted in my brain since Sunday, and I believe this:
'His eye is on the sparrow.'

Recently I have heard a few people relay Great Depression experiences, and all of us Americans are wide-eyed now in their presence. We're listening. I am going to try to recap the few stories I've heard, and I hope to have more, lots more. If you know anyone who lived through the Depression and would like to tell their story, let me know!

-----
This was relayed by a friend from church, MJD. Off the top of my head, I can't remember who she said these memories originated from (a family friend?). I will ask her and hopefully be able to improve on them with more details. Let me just try to get them down in rough form, taking the liberty to tell it in the first person anyway.

"During the Depression, those who had jobs simply supported the people around them who didn't. My dad was one of the fortunate few who was able to remain employed. I remember my mom would make two dinners every night; one for us, and one for our next door neighbors, who had no income during those years. Even during the Depression, my dad sacrificed to give my siblings and me a small allowance so that we could experience a more normal and carefree childhood. It wasn't until his funeral many years later that we discovered he had also faithfully given the girls next door the same allowance every week, all those years, so that they could go to the movies and have some of the same treats that we'd had.

'Some companies actually stayed open and people kept coming to their jobs, doing work, but all for no pay. The companies had absolutely no money coming in to pay their employees. However, the work itself was still there to be done, and it was better to be busy and productive than idle."

----
This one was from my husband's grandmother, JV.

"During the Depression, you learned to treasure the little things. Through the war times, you had to have money and a little coupon to receive a new pair of shoes. No one I knew had more than one pair. The rubber on the soles of the shoes would wear out and we would slide a piece of cardboard under our foot to patch it. Then, the cardboard became a treasure! It would keep your feet dry by stopping the water from seeping through.

'I can remember coming home from school and smelling the delicious aroma of my mother's yeast rolls wafting through the air. It was heavenly! I thought that smell was the best in the world, and it really was. We children just assumed she was making those yeast rolls for us because she loved us, but in reality, there was nothing else to eat.

'When you experience the pleasures of life so rarely, they become elevated. Something like a piece of candy, which we had so infrequently, tasted even better. Today we all have so much - I have so much. But I want to tell you that there are good things about hard times; really good things."
-----------------------------
In order to help Joel, 2, process his feelings about life, I'll often try to help him verbalize. One phrase I use a lot is "You wish you could, don't you Joel?" (have a piece of gum, watch TV, go outside without a jacket, etc.)

A few days ago he was playing on the swingset while I was reading a book.

Joel asked the inevitable question, "Mommy, can you push me on a swing?"
"Later, Joel. Right now I'm reading my book."
He looked at the ground, began kicking a ball, and and mused softly to himself "I wish I could."
"You wish I could push you now?" I prodded.
"Yea....," he replied.
Then, with a two-year-old dawn of realization, he raised his eyes to me still just sitting there with my book in hand, and exclaimed,
"But you COULD!!!"

Sunshiney Day

2009-03-06T13:26:00.000-08:00

The 67 degree, sunny weather reminds me of a few things on my to-do list:

- Purchase baby swing
- Repair the fence
- Clean up the "woods" (last year the kids in our neighborhood were ultimately forbidden to go back there because of a few thorny injuries. However, what is summer without a little exploration? We could get rid of the debris and rusty fence. I think.)
- Make sure everyone has sunscreen, hats and sunglasses
- Lastly, design a master plan for my organic garden, patio, and outdoor play area. Ahem. This one will have to wait at least until after Lent, and maybe for 5 or 10 more years.

No really, I did give up thinking about/researching home improvement for Lent. The more I read about different styles of homes, the more I noticed how the aesthetic style developed out of a real lifestyle and culture. Imagine, people didn't used to just buy pottery for decoration! My hope this Lent is to focus on being internally how I want my house to look externally (joyful, useful, etc.) - in other words, focus on the people and the life and let the environment develop around that. It's like how it's sometimes easier to read books about prayer than to pray, or to read books about parenting rather than becoming a better parent. Not that the books don't have their place! In fact, after Lent I might have to buy that one about the French Country style...

A February Night

2009-02-18T17:55:00.000-08:00

I have thought of so many blog entries between January 10th and today that just never made it into actual written form. I did walk around the park and the pond again last weekend and sure enough, there are a few subtle - oh, very subtle - indicators that spring will come. This time of year is usually the most difficult for me because in Michigan, it feels like winter has been at it for so long and yet there is no spring, and so few signs that there ever will be other than just the days marching on. However I did notice that the creek and the pond had greatly swelled due to all the snow that's fallen, washed away, and fallen again. Also, the tall grasses were just a little more beaten down and weather-worn than they were a month ago. Even the dead stalks looked less perky.

The TV went up in the corner, and we gained a new appreciation for our fireplace just the way it is.

Evan is beginning to communicate and stand up on his own; Joel alternates between winning/agreeable and inconsolable/combative. Alena sometimes makes us actually believe that she is almost 18, afterall.

---
Alena and I were shopping for floor lamps at Lowes. For some reason she was asking me how many cousins I had. I explained that I only have two. (At her ripe old age of four, she already has 12 and one on the way).
"Mommy, you only have two cousins?!"
"Yup, just two!"
"Did some of them DIE?"
"No, that's just all I have."

"Well, Mom...you could probably borrow Aunt Megan."
---

How to Decorate Around a Big Screen TV & How to Survive a Michigan Winter

2009-01-10T14:18:00.000-08:00

I will not bore you with the details of the big screen TV decision. The other night all my frenzied Google searches, in the face of the inevitable, were along the lines of "decorate around a tv." (A TV that just might be looming over the fireplace in the space formerly occupied by a rather pleasing piece of wall decor.) This was my last vestige of argument: "But the family room won't look as nice..."

Now, down goes the decor and up goes the blank black box. The night that I came to this acceptance, I had a dream that John hung all our bicycles - yep, mine, the little blue bikes, the pink ones too - from the family room ceiling.

I searched in vain on the electronic stores' websites for pictures of the TV's actually set in a living space. If they were selling to women, and they should be, they'd have a special gallery with lots of different room configurations including their products. Any marketing major would know that.

***
How to survive a Michigan winter

It's simple - you gotta get out.

Oh, well, not out of Michigan, although that might be a nice too. Out of your house. I finally bought a good pair of winter boots this year and it came with these words embossed on the box:
NEVER STOP EXPLORING
Still, it's impossible not to feel a little ill-at-ease when you are trudging through the snow by the pond in your own subdivision. And you are the only one that does this.

However, the snow and the sticks are strangely reviving. Being there clears the mind, even if you cannot help wonder what the neighbors are thinking about that gal who lurks about the pond in the winter.

Some words about winter, which occurred to me on my little trek and may also cause you to wonder just how much the snow did clear my head:

Winter is
strange and silent
barren and new beginnings
bright and dull
hidden and exposed

***
I told Joel, 2, the other day to close the basement door - "Do you understand me?"
When I came back up the stairs, he informed me, "Mommy, you don't unnerstan ME!"

My Christmas Post

2008-12-22T18:47:00.000-08:00

Well, since I made a mention of this blog in my Christmas letter I figured I better post something recent for you all! And it's not only that I made a mention of it in the Christmas letter; it's that those letters are now irrevocably in the mail. (That was not as much of a given as it may seem :) And for those of you who have been here before, I sprinkled a few new photos for you in previous posts.

I am full from the chicken dinner we ate at the Bavarian Inn this afternoon; glad it's Grandma's birthday today; cold thinking about John playing hockey right now; uneasy about all the sugar I've eaten; wondering how much I have left to do before the 25th; wavering between a resolve to go exercise or go lay down, anxious to finish my book; and a little foggy about how the next three days are going to go. It is beautiful and cracklingly cold here and the lights and snow are picturesque.

And no, "cracklingly" is not actually a word.

One of John's deals at work came down to the wire today, as everything this time of year does. It's odd how time comes into play with business transactions, the way it often makes a great difference whether the revenue comes in in December versus January (mattering much more that it would if the line were, say, between February and March). Christmas shopping has a deadline, events have starting and ending times...

If there's one thing I've noticed this year, it's that God's time really is different. Prayers I've forgotten I even said, He answers; areas I've given up on, I realize He brings me back to. To quote (or maybe paraphrase) an author I read this year, "If God is not in a rush to change me, why should I be?" and to quote St. Teresa of Avila once again, "Patience obtains everything."
(Those of you who know me may at this point ask if this is my unbelievable explanation for my chronic tardiness to almost every event in my life - the nerve! It is not. I am still working on that.)

---

Joel wanted to get to the sink the other day, and John was standing in his way. Being two, his job is to experiment with language. I guess he has found a new way of expressing his desire in this situation....he curtly directed John to "Move it!"

I recently explained the concept of sign language to Alena. One day as we were piling in the minivan, I was repeatedly telling her to "Get . in . your . seat!" (How many times have I uttered that phrase?!) She started making this odd gesture with her hands, and muttered, "This means please say zero words to me."

The Train Table

2008-11-30T20:05:00.000-08:00

Today:
The first Sunday in Advent

The last day of our Thanksgiving break

I had this brilliant idea this morning that John could entertain Joel by setting up the train table that has been sitting sadly disassembled (on loan from my sister) in our basement for over a year. Fine idea, except....the hardware was nowhere to be found. The hardware that USED to be duct-taped to the back of one of the pieces…the hardware that I SWEAR I HAVE SEEN a hundred times….

Suspecting that I was the one responsible for its disappearance by putting it somewhere where it "wouldn't get lost," I began my rampage as I got into the care to drive to church, of all places. Truly, nothing causes me to lose my cool like, well, losing something else first.

I didn’t make it to church. I decided I could not be on a rampage and at Mass as the same time. I called John. “I don’t know where the hardware is, and I don’t know if I put it somewhere – I probably did – but why didn’t we set up the train table earlier, and what are the kids going to do all winter, and when is our basement ever going to get cleaned up anyway – and I know last year was really busy, but we just…we just…agh, where IS all that hardware?”

Short answer: It was in the garage, where I’d put it, so it wouldn’t get lost. Train table assembled. Winter blues conquered in advance.

Well, I don’t know about “in advance”….Today was the first real snow of the season. It looked like a giant in the sky had torn open his fluffy down pillow right over our city. Wet, huge clumps of snow smacking down on everything for about an hour.

And speaking of rending things in the heavens, from the First Reading this First Sunday:

Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down,with the mountains quaking before you,while you wrought awesome deeds we could not hope for,such as they had not heard of from of old.No ear has ever heard, no eye ever seen, any God but youdoing such deeds for those who wait for him.
http://www.usccb.org/nab/113008.shtml

Oh, and I did eventually go to church today. Of course.

-------------------
Alena, at 12:33pm today: “I feel like biting. When I feel like biting, it means I’m hungry.”

Me: (Burst out laughing. Even if I was still in rampage mode.)

Alena: “It’s not funny, it’s true. It really is.”
-------------------
Joel, when he’s really impressed, will sometimes say “Ewwoooh!” It’s sort of a trademark phrase of his, partially because of the way he says it. It comes out almost British-sounding? – kind of a cross between “Ooooh” “Ewww.”

Anyway, John mimicked him in a playful way after he said it recently. Always one to have a possessive streak in him, Joel promptly scowled and said vehemently “No! I say ‘Ewooh.’ ‘Ewooh’ is MINE!”

Three Things About John

2008-11-28T12:33:00.000-08:00

_______________________________________
Alena: “Do you know what it’s called when somebody pokes a hole in your lip gloss?

Me: “What?”

Alena: “DAMAGE.”
_______________________________________

OK, so besides giving me an adorable little girl and two curious boys, John also grilled a tender, hickory-smoked turkey with my dad the day before Thanksgiving.

(Maryellen called this “smokin while smoking”)

And as that turkey was sizzling, I was thinking about one of my #1 reasons to be thankful…the man behind it all….

A Good Husband

Is Unceasing
When it’s 3 am and Evan is crying – “I’ll get his medicine.”
When it’s 7am (the same day) and the other kids are up- “I’ll get up with them. You were up all night.”
When it’s 2 am, I might get a text message like this – “Just landed. Be home soon.”
When it’s 7pm – “I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

The best thing that happened to me all week: Wednesday morning , before the turkeyfest had begun, John sent a ham sandwich and bowl of soup up to me for lunch in bed. (Yes, lunch. Don’t ask).

Expects Less of Others Than of Himself

I wondered out loud to John the other day why he never asks “What’s for dinner?” when he calls during the day. I wondered if maybe he just didn’t have a very strong preference, or if he just wasn’t thinking about dinner when he was at work? He said “Well, I guess I don’t ask because I wouldn’t want you to feel bad if you didn’t make anything.” I can’t tell you how many times we’ve had a conversation where the first concern he expresses is for me (or for the person) – not the situation, not the problem, not the reason – but the other person’s well-being.

Meanwhile, however, he is tireless in his work and striving to grow. And, well, all the little things like I just mentioned in "unceasing."

Makes Me Laugh

As I was frosting Alena’s birthday cake last month, John was explaining a new product his company now has. NotifyNow is an alert system that will send a message out to a group of people via cell phone, email, etc. all at once. It’s particularly useful for schools and youth groups. Within a few minutes my phone beeped, and I received this email:

From NotifyNow to Me – October 6, 2008:

This is a reminder to give a piece of cake to your husband. The cake you are making is beautiful. Please remember that you should make an extra piece for your husband. He deserves multiple pieces of cake.
If this had been a youth group event reminder, the message would reach all parents and kids within 10 minutes.

My mom asked me before John and I got married, "Does he make you laugh?" I don't think I would have ever fallen for him if he didn't! There are very few people I can laugh really freely with, and the value of that is enormous. So many problems don't really need to be solved, they just need to be laughed at.

So, far from being comprehensive, this list is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to John’s wonderfulness. But then. if you are reading this, you probably know him!

The Family Tree

2008-11-21T19:39:00.001-08:00

This is to preserve a moment that kept my sister laughing for hours:

My parents have a yorkie, Tuffy, who has become a very dear member of the family. My mom posted a picture of "Tuffy's parents" above his dog dish just for fun. (See above - you get the idea)

Noel, age 3, studied it for a few minutes. He then pronounced to my mom, "Grandma, I think you're the one with the bow!"

How Old Is Your Daddy?

2008-11-14T18:32:00.000-08:00

Hey, I have followers - thanks, everyone!! :)

A couple weeks ago I wrote about how only a four year old would refer to their dad as being "Thirty and a half." I witnessed another preschool conversation about ages that I must share.

Today Linda's kids came over for awhile in the afternoon. I was in the kitchen making macaroni and cheese and I heard the following exchange take place between Alena (girl, age 4) and MJ (boy, age 5):

Alena: "How old is your dad?"

MJ: "I don't know. I think he's 16."

Alena: "16 is a kid. Maybe he's sixty one."

MJ: "Yea, maybe he's 61."

Alena: "But 61 is really old."

MJ: "I think he's 20."

Alena: "Is he in college?"

MJ: "No! He is not in college!"

Alena: "Then he's not 20. My mommy was 20 when she was in college."

MJ: "How old is your mom?"

Alena: "She's 30."

MJ: "I think my dad's 30 too." (Editor's note: Correct!!!!!)

So, Barack Obama is now president, John and I had a lovely weekend in Cleveland two weeks ago, and he just got back from a business trip to Salt Lake City on Tuesday.

Barack: Well. I voted at Washtenaw Christian Academy and the first thing I saw when I walked in, and also the last thing I saw when I walked out, was the cross at the top of the school. I was all of a sudden was filled with such gratitude for the liberty we have to live our beliefs in freedom. Somehow being aware of the corruption and dismal unconcern for the civil rights of others that is manifested in so many ways even here, makes me grateful for my freedom in a much greater way. Who knows what will happen? America got what America wanted and I daresay what America deserved. Who knows?

Cleveland: We received such a gracious dose of hospitality from Chris and Laura! It was so lovely to be in their city, their home, their church. Sometimes you just need a break from the routine. The kids had a great time with Grandma and Grandma, and were a little sad we had to come home. :)

Salt Lake City: John's second trip out there. I did meet a few of his Salt Lake City customers a couple weeks ago when they were in town for a conference. We had dinner at Zingerman's Roadhouse, which has become my current favorite eatery. Not so the first couple times I went there, but things have changed. John and I had a few minutes to get drinks before everyone arrived for dinner, something we do so rarely that I actually didn't know what to order. I told the bartender, "Just make me something you think I would like!" And he did. Pineapple juice, cherry liqueur, vodka, and a splash of champagne. Another person at our table actually ended up ordering one (you know, "I'll have what she's having!") so the bartender named it - a Monicatini. Haha. I also noticed that Zingerman's founder and owner, Ari, was helping wait tables in our section that night.

Soaked up the last summery days at a park in Chelsea with Maryellen and the kids...burned calories chasing my boys...Thanksgiving is coming...

Sayonara.

Better Homes and Gardens Can Wait; Melanie Reyes is Here

2008-11-01T05:59:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine became a photographer. Of this endeavor, which began with her third child on the way and her young family moving from one side of the country to the other, she writes:

Photography came out of a journey to discover what was inside, a discovery of the creative juices that were inside. With determination and perseverance I read, I learned, I practiced, I gained experience, and learned the technicalities of photography. It became my passion.

My husband and three children are my inspiration and biggest fans. - Melanie Reyes (http://melaniereyesphotography.com/)

I think the thing I admire most about her photos is that they are so incredibly lifelike and alive. I always feel like you could just reach out and touch the subjects. Here you see this photo she snapped of us two days ago, when we did "Part II" of our photo session. There we are; all five of us, smiling, and serenely still on the front porch of our own beloved home. Even the mums have a placid air about them. (Well, let's face it, the mums always do)

If I weren't recording it, I would probably eventually forget the state of the inside of our house and earlier hours of that day lying just behind that blessedly closed door. The house was an absolute disaster. Piles of dishes, laundry, and mail everywhere. Dirty floors and sinks. Furniture out of place, and bags of groceries spilling onto the counter. Full trash cans. (In fact, in a high-res, unedited version of this photo I'm certain you would see the fingerprints all over that glass....)

My red sweater and Alena's tweed dress are purchases from earlier that morning. I realized I had no clothes suitable for a photo that might become a wall hanging in my own house, and if I had, they would have been in that laundry pile anyway. Plus, we were low on groceries. So after breakfast, I dragged everyone into whatever clean clothes we had, piled the kids in the car, and headed for Target. (You might wonder if Target will be a regular feature in this blog. It will.) After trotting around with the "special cart" for a couple hours, shoving goldfish and Cliff bars down hungry little hatches and piling cans of food and other sundry items around Evan's car seat, we barreled out to the parking lot (and I do mean barreled - have you ever driven one of those carts?) and headed home.

I set to work trying to coerce Joel into a nap and get the kids ready in time, but not too early, so they wouldn't have time to upset their appearance before Melanie came. And as you can see, it came off pretty well! Melanie's eye gives me a perspective on my family that I would never have otherwise - all of us together, from another point of view. I have often thought it was a little odd that you can never really see your own face with your own eyes. You always need an aid to see yourself. The camera brings objectivity into an environment that you don't get even when you are actually there. Its effect is soothing, calming. I can look at my kids in that picture, free of the distractions that usually cloud my mind when I look at them, and say "wow, they really are beautiful, amazing people! " And, that is Melanie's gift to my family and everyone she photographs. She allows us to appreciate our lives and the lives of those around us in a different way. Melanie loves people and loves relationships - no wonder these qualities show through in the work she does for others, resulting in photos which actually can help remind us how much we really do love each other, too!

So back to the house. Some days I am so concerned with getting everything in its place, in proper order, and then at the end of it all I wonder, who am I doing this for? Is Better Homes and Gardens coming over today to photograph my pristine house? Of course the truth is that the house cycles through clean and messy and everywhere and most of the time, the only ones who really notice are me and John. (Earlier in my professional career I actually did work on a cross promotion with Better Homes and Gardens, and it had nothing to do with my own house, but that is another story....) No one is coming to photograph my living room, or my family room, or my kitchen. In fact, most days, no one is coming at all! :) It's just us, and it's the people here who are most important.

The Apple Orchard and the "Apple Orchard"

2008-10-26T11:19:00.000-07:00

I asked John on Friday what he remembered about his childhood trip to W's Apple Orchard. His reply:
"Um, the Rock and Roll Stage and the Haunted House."

Yea, I kind of thought maybe.

The Apple Orchard
The kids and I visited an apple orchard with our playgroup in September - you know, apple trees, apple picking, cider, donuts, fields, open sky, honey....

The "Apple Orchard"
My mom and I took the kids to this other "apple orchard" (W's) on Friday. I'm not sure how many of the 400 or so kids that were there actually realized that there were trees. We went through the country store, saw some animals in a corral, played at the playground, looked at the bunnies, jumped in some straw (avoiding a host of other touristy attractions). Not at all difficult to see why the stage and the haunted house would be a child's prevailing memory of the "apple orchard."

When the cold October rain began to fall, we hiked back to the car, made a quick stop at Target, and then drove home. As we pulled into the driveway, Noel (age 3) said, "But Grandma, I didn't get to pick any apples!"

Fair enough - how DID that happen?!

My neighbors have an beautiful apple tree in their back yard, which I have often admired but never gleaned from. But for Noel....
"Would you mind if we picked just a few?" I asked Laura, thinking the experience would be the same no matter what the fruit was like.
"Not at all - they were still very sour last week, but pick as many as you want," she said.

The kids got to pick "as many apples as they are old." I just tried one of the apples today. Sweet, juicy, tart, crisp. Actually, one of the better ones I've had this year.

Thirty-And-A-Half

2008-10-23T20:13:00.000-07:00

Only the parent of a four-year-old would consider their age to be "Thirty and a half." Alena pointed out to me today that daddy is a liiiiiittle bit older than me, as he is already thirty and a half. (Me, not for another 2 months)

It seems as though books by written by women this age (woa, I'm thirty?!) are doing pretty well at the booksellers the last couple years. I read a couple books recently, written by 30-something women (who, from reading the acknowledgements, apparently know each other) that kind of sound like they could have been written by the same person. Their tones, humor and authors are pretty similar. Very Gen-X'y, you know "J/E was in her early thirties, stuck in a job that wasn't satisfying, had a husband but no babies, a clan of outrageous, eccentric friends, and decided to escape from all this with a journey of self-discovery through cooking/traveling to far away lands."

Well. I am on the bridge between Gen-X and Y or whatever you call the younger one. Always right on the cusp in all the studies. Sometimes I can feel the slightly abrasive Gen-X'y tone seeping into my writing, whether I like it or not. Sometimes I wonder if I should write a little more about other areas of my life other than, well, family life. Maybe I should reach across and say "Hey, I know what it's like to do the same job in the same cubicle for months and years on end! I can cook, too! I have traveled! (a little.) I already crossed the "3-0" and soon will actually be thirty-and-a-half, and yea, it feels like a little bit of a mid-life crisis!"

But, who am I really writing for? My kids. As a friend recently helped me realize, I'm writing for their memories, their experience of family, so they can see themselves through my eyes someday. I don't really want to hear myself give words to all my fears, doubts, and fits. Whenever I start to get all focused on what I'm thinking, these pudgy little hands sort of appear before my mind's eye, along with some curious, peering eyes. Three beaming, dewy, chubby faces gaze at me inquisitively, poised as if to say in a sweet unknowing way, "What are you thinking, mommy?"

Today's Top Ten

2008-10-20T20:48:00.000-07:00

1. Got dressed and went back to bed - Evan was up last night late, teething and trying to crawl.
2. Salvaged some of the clay/dirt that was excavated by the guys putting in our egress window. Made an improvised sensory table for the kids with a wheelbarrow.
3. Ate lunch - "pasghetti."
4. John came home a couple hours early (yay!!)
5. Joined Sam's Club. We ran into Janey and her family. Walking around Sam's is mind-numbing.
6. Watched John begin folding the mountain range of laundry.
7. Made biscuits and did Bible study.
(Ok, I must add a note on this one. I discovered I was out of paper plates, which reminded me of how a couple weeks ago, we had Mike and Megan and the girls over for dinner. We set the kids table, all pink plates and one blue. Joel without hesitation walked over and pointed to the blue plate declaring "It a-mine." Funny thing was, we'd bought pink and blue plates for our book club because we were discussing a book called Why Gender Matters!)
8. Let Joel get up for a little while - he was not tired, and was scared of the rain.
9. Confirmed that I am registered to vote in Michigan.
10. Going to shut my computer and go to bed!

"Drinkability" - Not Just For Beer!

2008-10-19T19:45:00.001-07:00

In our household, the "drinkability" factor applies to a lot more than just beer. Here are some examples of ways some members of our family partake:

- Bath water: let's say, sip while you dip.
- Rain water: especially the little pool that always collects at the bottom of the slide.
- Coffee: yea, so far this is a hit with everyone in our family - I am probably the least enthusiastic.

Today we went to the Harvest Dinner at St. Andrew after the 11:30 mass. Real, home cooked roast beef, potatoes, butternut squash, coleslaw, rolls and butter, and pickles. We hadn't really planned on going, but during church Alena asked if we could go to "The Fry." She was thinking of the Friday Fish Fries, which do resemble this dinner. Joel filled up on rolls, butter and pickles. Evan sat in his seat at the end of the table just happy to be part of the group.

We all went to the red and blue park in the afternoon. The kids played hide and seek with John and Evan loooved the swing.

Fried Rice

2008-10-15T19:40:00.000-07:00

Today....
Dance lesson, 12:15, Went to our dear friend's (the Randolph's) house in the afternoon. Amy and I looked at wedding pictures and remembered how things were at that "getting married" stage! We had a little birthday theme for the kids.

Yesterday...(Blogger was down so I'm posting what I was going to write yesterday)

Today I went running - just a mile or so, but hey, that's good. I had forgotten that I feel really bad at first but if I push a little and run for a couple minutes, it gets easier again.

We went to Bible study this morning and for the first time, Joel stayed in his class. He would cycle through crying and calming down, but he stayed!

Alena, as always, was finding ways to postpone going to bed. Tonight she came up with a list of topics she wanted to talk about before she had to go to bed: Rollerskates, Long Lake, Teenagers, the Ten Commandments. (for real, that was her list)

Evan is catching up on sleep today and so close to crawling. I finally studied up on vaccinations so now he can get them - soon!

John had his high school small group here tonight.

I made fried rice for dinner.

That's it.

"I Miss You Super, Super Much!"

2008-10-10T20:06:00.000-07:00

John just got back from San Jose today. I videotaped a little bit of the conversation Alena had with him over the phone the other night. She was perched on the arm of the couch, holding her own for about a 10 minute conversation. Is she four, or fourteen? someone asked me recently. Most of what I heard went like this:

"Daddy, I was pretty sad today because you had to go out of town."
...
"Why?"
...
"But why?"
...
"I want you to help me instead of adults, because I'm a kid."
...
"Well, Mommy and Joel are eating and Evan's sitting in his seat."
...
"But Daddy, why?"
...
"But...why?"
...
"Grandma's coming tomorrow. And guess what - Grandpa doesn't have to work on Fridays anymore!"
...
"OK, but Daddy, I miss you super, super much!"
(this was a direct quote)
...
*sniffle*

Here are some totally random things my babes have done recently that I find just tickling:

Alena volunteered to go to the nursery with Joel and miss her "Sunday school" class. She overheard John and I in the car discussing what to do with Joel. Evan will stay in the nursery, Alena loves her class, but what will Joel do, etc. In piped this clear little voice. "I'll go with Joel to the nursery instead of going to my class. I'll miss Nick and Arise, but it's OK. I'll go with you, Joel." She was completely sincere, and it was true sacrificial love, as she always looks forward to her class so much.

Alena turned 4 this week. She wanted Chinese food with broccoli for dinner and chocolate cake with pink and white frosting. A nod to uncle Kevin who cooked a couple festive dinners when he was here - Chinese.

The other day Joel was having a fit and I decided to ignore it. The wails subsided and I went into the family room to see why. Alena had made a little bed from the couch cushions and a blanket. She was coaxing him to lie down (he was, willingly) and patting his head, soothing him with her calm words.

Joel is learning about how to express contrary ideas. Last night at dinner my mom said "this is delicious," and Joel said "It not delicious. It spaghetti." Then he was pointing to the rice cereal and saying "I want some." I said, "You want some more food, Joel?" He said, "It not food." It cereal."

Joel is enchanted with the vacuum. He told it "I wuv you" and gave it a little peck the other day. His phrases come out like this: "It a-Mommy. (It's Mommy's) "I don't a-shoes." (I don't need my shoes) "I don't a-come in" (I don't want to come in) "Mine!" (uh, needs no translation)

Evan is saying "da-da," is cutting first tooth, moving, moving, and sweet and happy as ever.

I met a mom in the park yesterday who told me to call her when I'm ready to go back to work. She lives one neighborhood over and is the owner of an ad agency. It was novel to think that I might get a new job someday, but at the same time reminded me that I will turn around and this stage of my life will be gone.

Nada te turbe
Nada te espante,
Toda se pasa,
Dios no se muda,
La Paciencia; Todo la alcanza
Quien a Dios tiene
Nada le falta.
Sólo Dios basta.

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing make you afraid.

All is fleeting,
God alone is unchanging.

Patience obtains everything.
Whoever has God wants for nothing.

God alone is enough.

The Feast of the Guardian Angels

2008-10-03T20:39:00.000-07:00

I think that maybe yesterday when all the drama was going on with Joel, I had a very vague and momentary recollection that it was the Feast of the Guardian Angels. However it wasn't until after I chronicled all his little run-in's that I really put it together. The Guardian Angels! For all his pickles, nothing really went wrong. And for this, I have to say "Thank You."

When Alena had just started daycare last year (she was almost three), she was having a hard time for awhile with missing home. One night as I was putting her to bed it occurred to me that I should pray with her, and remind her that she is never alone. So I began telling her about her guardian angels, how they were always with her and could help her. As I was explaining how they protected her, I was silently praying, "Oh God, don't let me ever tell her something that's not true." Although I believe in angels, I didn't feel as confident in the theological truth of specific guardian angels. And I try very hard to make sure my children can always believe what I say. Still, I felt that I should speak of them to her that night.

In the morning before she left, I tried in vain to find something with an angel that she could bring with her as a concrete reminder of their presence. No trinkets or jewelry or anything showing an angel. What I did find was a little bracelet with a tiny cross I'd received when I was her age. I put it on her wrist and told her when she looked at the cross, to think of her guardian angel. (I know, this is a stretch to ask a three-year-old to make all those connections).

When I picked her up that day, Kathy, the receptionist, was in the three's class helping the last little ones pack up to go home. I think I asked something about how Alena had done that day. "Well, she had a little bit of a hard time at nap today," Kathy explained (nothing unusual for Alena!). "So," she continued, "I told her all about her guardian angel!" I stopped, quizzical. It couldn't have been that bracelet...*

"I saw her bracelet with the cross," Kathy went on, "So I told her about Jesus, and how her angel always watches over her; how he's so strong and so beautiful!"

How a tiny cross alone prompted Kathy's words to my daughter at that moment confirmed any doubt I ever had in my mind about the veracity of guardian angels, and actually, the truth of God! If I can believe God on something as "small" as guardian angels, then I can have confidence on the greater truths as well.

In actuality, the bracelet and the tiny gold cross on their own mean nothing, and prompt nothing. But, with a God who knows me inside and out, who hears my silent prayers that I hardly even remember saying, I have hope that I can teach my children correctly. Oh, and I also have hope that Joel will make it to his 2-and-3-month "birthday!"

*Note: This was not a Christian daycare, so such an exchange was extra unexpected.

Today I called 800-222-1222

2008-10-02T19:41:00.000-07:00

Today began with a tumble down the basement stairs and a real shiner on his forehead for Joel. Lots of bumps, lots of tears, lots of hugs.

A little while later, I came into the bathroom to find that he had raided my makeup bag. (John has strictly forbidden Joel to wear my makeup, but when you're two, it's apparently veeeery tempting if not socially appropriate....) Anyway, there Joel was, with an open canister of my cosmetic facial cream in his hand, and a good smearing of red chapstick applied all around his lips. This is not a promising combination of circumstances.

"Joel, what did you do with that?" I asked, pointing to the canister of "regenerating serum." His answer was clear as a bell - "Mouth!"

"Did you eat it?"

"Yea."

That is where 800-222-1222 comes in. The National Poison Control center was reassuring although as I feared, they did record my name and phone number and Joel's. In my mind I can hear the pleasant service representative slyly typing my name into the database of "possibly negligent mothers" although outwardly she was very supportive and helpful. (But why did she need to know my name - first AND last?)

Not more than an hour later, Alena came to me to inform me that Joel had climbed up on the counter and was rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. Do you know what he was after? The gummy children's vitamins, of course. Another open container in his hand. Ironically, I have read that vitamin overdoses actually are the most common cause of poisoning for children, just above regenerating serums, I would think.

And finally, another report from Alena - Joel was upstairs in Evan's pack 'n play. Standing. On Evan's back.

Joel, how are you ever going to live to be 2 years and 3 months? And how is Evan ever going to make it to his half-year birthday?

I Used to Write for A Living...

2008-09-28T19:07:00.000-07:00

...but now I'm writing for my life!

I just became a stay-at-home mom in April. I became a mom three and a half years before that, but after a little girl, a little boy, and another little boy it was time to make a change. I am still figuring out what this change really means for me and for us. I spent my seven (so far) professional years in marketing and communications and before that I was a college student. I have done a lot of writing but never really about my own life. My writing is not perfect; I need a copy editor, which I have never had in any of my jobs. So my work has always had an element of imperfection and it certainly will continue to have THAT, if nothing else!

Tonight I get started. And tomorrow, who knows?!