Friday, November 18, 2011

Five Things on Friday - Thankful Parent Edition

As promised - More Thankfulness! Now with Twice the Gratitude! And if you act now, Free Grace!

Five Things About My Children that Make Me Thankful


1. Their Intelligence - So, here's the thing. I know that all parents, universally believe their children to be the smartest, prettiest, funniest kids on Earth. It's a biological imperative. Of course, not all of us can be right. (Like me.) Just kidding. Here's the thing. My kids - they are smart kids. Maren scares me sometimes with the stuff she knows and I am completely guilty of forgetting that sh'es only two because she's the size of a six year old, talks as well as a five year old and likes to work on cars. Brynna is one of those kids who's too smart to bother and we fight against that, but the fact is that I kind of sometimes secretly agree with her. Why should she do 110 math problems to prove that she knows how to carry. I would think that 20 or 30 would prove the same thing.

In any case, smarties I have. Geniuses I don't. For which I am also grateful. There's a lot of pressure and stress and worry that comes with parenting a genius level kid and I, for one, am not sure I would be so good at it. My kids aren't Einstein (probably) but they are smarter than your average bear and that makes me very proud, happy and thankful. Until their homework exceeds my knowledge and then I'll be vair unhappy.

2. Their Health - On the one hand, obvs I am thankful that I have healthy kids. On the other hand, I am struck sometimes by the very vastness of what can go wrong. Kids are born with all sorts of weird issues that require tons of surgery and therapy to overcome, or they develop diseases and sicknesses that shake the foundation of the world. Or they have allergies that can make the scent of a good PB&J kill them dead. I read an article once about vaccinations where a parent of an imuno-compromised child thanked parents of healthy children for getting the vaccinations that her child can't have and increasing the "herd protection." She talked at length about what a simple case of chicken pox could do to her child and I cried all the way through it. I've always been pro-vac, but that article made me super-pro-vac. And it also took my breath away at just how very, very fragile the lives of our children are. Sometimes I forget about it and I get annoyed with another ear infection or stomach virus, but in truth, I am one of the most blessed mothers in the world.

3. Maren's Love of All Things Scary - It's probably no secret that I love scary movies, scary books and scary TV shows. Although I haven't exactly plopped her down in front of The Exorcist yet (she's TWO), so does Maren. She loves a good fright and she likes scary stories and Scooby Doo and she jumps and grabs her chest whenever she's scared and then erupts into the most glorious cascade of giggles. Because she, like me, likes the scary things that really scare her. We have a creepy, crawly future together, Maren. I will show you the world (of blood, creepy kids and psycho pastors).

4. Brynna's Love of All Things Bookish - It's altogether possible that Brynna may never watch a horror movie with and that Doctor Who and Wallace and Grommet may be the only things TV/cinematic we ever have in common. But, girl loves to read. Give her a book and a corner and she quickly turns into a seven year old version of me, nose in a book, swept away, deaf and blind to the outside world. I love to watch her read. I love to share a blanket and the couch and both of us just zone out flipping away. She like mystery and historic fiction and books about animals and princesses and I love that she's just getting started.

5. Their Mineness - Ultimately, what I am most grateful for when it comes to my kids is that they are that. My kids. All their foibles, beauty, stubbornness, smarts. All the moments when I am so proud they are mine and even the moments when I can't hush them up and they are embarrassing the pants off of me. They are mine. I would die for them, walk on fire for them. Live for them. They are the best of me and the worst of me, but they are mine.

So what about you? What makes you thankful when it comes to the kiddos? Or the furry kiddos? Or the non-kiddo family? I'm really not picky here...

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Shouting into the Void

At work the other day, we got into a conversation about Twitter. The ladies there seemed to be of the opinion that it's a horrible monster of doom. And that's okay, because before I had a smarter-than-me phone, I thought it was a horrible monster of doom. I still sometimes forget to even look at it for days or even weeks at a time.

It's not a horrible monster of doom for me now, because I see the usefulness of having some place to go. Twitter, in my ever humble, non-expert, recently terrified opinion is a big room where you can go and strike up a conversation.

"Twitter is scary if you think of it a place where you have to be witty or smart or novel. Because then you're just shouting into the void, wondering if it'll echo. If you think of it as a party you can wander into, have a three minute conversation and then wander back out of, it's much less intimidating," I told them.

Blogging is like that too. I like blogging best when what I say starts a conversation. I don't like to shout into the void. It's an awful lot of words to shout, for one thing.

But, you know, conversations are hard. Because you have to, like, talk about stuff. And sometimes I just don't feel up to that. Sometimes I feel like I've talked about it all and I don't want to talk about it anymore. I wonder if I should just give up on this here bloggy thing and I stare at the blank screen and lament my lack of talkiness.

Sometimes I don't want to talk because I'm pissy or hurt or scared and talking is scary.

Sometimes I'm just really not in the mood to talk and so I don't. I close the big white screen down and go somewhere else. Or I shout into the void. About stupid stuff. Because it's easier than talking.

This is an apology, yo.

I'll talk more later. And better and I'll say things that matter. I'll tell you about the scary stuff and the sad stuff and the happy stuff and the funny stuff. Just not today, okay?

Today, I'm just whispering into the void.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

On Starting Christmas

You know, I have a soapbox, and I'm not afraid to use it, right? Well, today it's a bit of a weird one...

Every year I hear more and more complaints about starting Christmas so early. Stores put things out too soon, Christmas music starts playing on the radio too soon, companies start promoting Christmas shopping so early... It goes on and on - endless complaints about when Christmas should begin.

Which always conjures up my eternal argument: whatever.

Because mostly, I just don't care. I used to work for a paper goods store in an outlet mall. Our first shipment of Christmas paper (and the hours spent rolling it in the back room watching the images blur by) came in July. By August, we had Christmas paper on the floor and by the end of September we had an entire aisle (of a four aisle store) dedicated to Christmas. You can't shock me.

On the other hand, let me tell you why we did it. Because people bought it. Our stores, our industries are a product of our habits. You want Christmas to come later, start shopping later. Simple as that. Because as long as there are a significant number of people who will buy Christmas paper in August, there will be Christmas paper in August.

Stores don't build displays and merchandising based on The Fun. They have entire teams of researchers telling them when to do what and in what order. To maximize sales. So, don't complain about Wal-Mart or Penney's or whatever store inspired your ire this afternoon. Complain about the consumers who are consuming.

But you know what, don't even do that. Because some of us like it the way it is. I am specifically talking here about crafters. I need ideas, patterns, supplies and other things beginning in August, because crafting isn't a super-quick hobby. It takes time. It takes Saturdays and it takes supplies.

I'm also talking about people who like to be prepared. I don't like to Christmas shop in December. Why? Because I like to spend December enjoying Christmas. With my family and stuff. The very people I can't take shopping because likely, I am shopping for them. It's a thing with me.

And also, I'm talking about the people who love Christmas. I am one of the idiots who tunes into "MixMas" 24-7 Christmas radio the very day that it starts - which should be this weekend, by the way. I put up the Christmas tree as soon as the Thanksgiving dishes are cleared and the Black Friday packages are hidden.

And here's the thing. I don't mind that you don't do those things. I don't care if you are one of those people who puts your tree up the weekend before the big day and shops on Christmas Eve (although for the sake of all the poor schleps who have to work on Christmas Eve, would you consider the 23rd?). I don't mind if you hate all things Noel before December 1. You won't ever hear me complaining that you start Christmas too late.

So, please, leave me and my crafty, overly prepared, Christmas loving butt alone. I'm far too busy rockin' around the Christmas tree.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Greats

I had the amazing privilege of knowing three of my great-grandparents.

I knew my maternal grandmother's mother and both of my maternal grandfather's parents. I had enough experiences with each of them that I have vivid and powerful memories of them to this day. I can't see strawberry wafer cookies without thinking of my Grandma Howard, who picked them out of the box for me when I was coming. And every time I smell pipe tobacco, I remember my Grandpa Howard.

My Mamau died when I was very young and my memories of her are strange and don't mesh with what history tells me must be true. Just the same, I remember her, her smile and her kindness.

Most of the people I've known in my life have never known a great-grandparent. I can't think of a single solitary person who, like me, can remember as many as three. I even know quite a few with no memories of their grandparents.

My girls are very lucky in that they know my grandparents very well. My grandfather, who they call GrandPapaw and I call Granddaddy, adores them. He will happily just sit and list their good traits, while completely ignoring the bad. He gives them whatever they want that he can provide - mostly chocolate and ice cream. Each of them has spent her fair share of time cuddled in his lap.

My Grandmommie is less of a kid person. But even she is always delighted to see them, loves to read to them and tell them stories and spends as much time with them as she can.She patiently listens as they prattle on with seemingly never-ending and pointless stories. I remember her doing the same for me. She tries to find kid shows on TV for them and offers them her precious lap desk for coloring.

Their time together is fleeting. I know this, by simple mathematics. I fully expect my grandparents to turn out to be immortal, but only because in my heart I am not much older than Brynna. But I know, intellectually, that one day they will be to my girls what my Mamau and Grandma and Grandpa Howard are to me: a collection of jumbled memories and stories.

I cannot express how sad that makes me. That one day Brynna won't remember the watery green shade of my grandmother's eyes or be able to recall the scritchy flannel of my Grandpa's winter shirt/jacket. Or that Maren may not be able to remember them at all.

I truly consider every moment that I can give my girls with their great-grandparents to be gift. Hopefully, there will be many, many more moments. So many that this all seems silly one day.

But one day, I truly hope that my children will be able to tell their children stories of Grandmommie and Granddaddy. Even if it's just how loud the television gets and how there's always rocky road ice cream and oatmeal cookies. They are a piece of history, a piece of our family identity that I won't ever be able to create for them. The stories they tell are more powerful from their lips, even the ones I can recite almost verbatim.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Five Things on Friday - Thankful Edition Part 1

So, I know I'm early and all, but here's the story:

Last night, we had some stuff, you know, stuff, like Brynna's cheerleading awards ceremony that started 45 minutes late and we had to eat dinner and stuff. The kids were tired and, as Maren says, "whiney hinies." They were bickering and complaining and generally being a pain in my hiney. My hiney does not like that, and so, I opened my mouth to start my usual dressing down about being kind and respectful and using your words wisely and carefully and then, instead, brilliance came out. Because sometimes I'm smarter than I give myself credit for.*

"Okay, here's the deal," I started. "You guys have been complaining about not having ketchup and who's hairbow that is, and I'm not sure you realize how ridiculous those concerns really are. So, beginning now, we are going to spend the rest of this car ride home, listing things for which we are thankful. I will start and we'll go around and no one gets a by, everybody goes and we'll list all the reasons we have not to whine about silly things."

"I'm thankful for the zombie book in my purse that I'm dying to read as soon as we get home.**"

And, just like that, the kids stopped whining and started listing things. When Maren would say things, like, "I'm thankful for signs," Brynna would giggle and she and I would try and explain why we should all be thankful for signs. At one point, there was whining about whose turn it was, but I just pulled the car over and calmly explained that we would just sit there until they started coming up with blessings again.

Sometimes, I rock.

I'm not sure they learned the bigger lesson I was trying to impart: that we have so much for which to be grateful, that there's no room for being upset about hairclips and ketchup. But, I did travel home in peace and harmony - so there's that at least.

And it got me thinking about my thankfulness. I am thankful for all the big things: my house, my family, my friends, food to eat, air to breathe, a job that pays me, etc, etc. But I'm also thankful for some little things and I thought I would share a few, beginning today and continuing through the rest of the Fridays in November.

Five Things For Which I am Thankful Part 1


1. The Internet - I used to think that I was born at the wrong moment in history. I believed that I should have been a child of the 60's. And I will tell you that Haight-Ashbury and Janis and Woodstock still call to me with their hippy voices. But, now I understand why I was chosen for this moment in history. The Internet. I love the Internet. From Pinterest to online shopping, from xkcd to The Bloggess. From the ability to find any song you ever heard based on the three words you remember to sites that help you make your own laundry detergent - I love the Internet.

2. Children's TV - I am thankful for the bright colors, hip music and inane story lines that keep my kids occupied for a few moments every day while I do something productive (or sit on the couch and think about the productive things I could be doing).

3. Silence - I have always been a person who couldn't concentrate in silence. I need the radio, TV or other noise making distraction to keep me focused. I don't know why and I understand that it's counter-intuitive. But that's me. Counter-intuitive. However, since having children, I have come to truly appreciate the joy of a completely silent house. When the kids are in bed and the lights and TV are out and I can bask in nothing but resounding silence. Until a train goes by. Or a cat knocks something over. Because I am also thankful, quite often, for a lack of silence.

4. Zombies, Werewolves, Vampires and Demons - How much less interesting would the world truly be without the stories of the living dead, animalistic, undead and possessed. Or it that just me? I am also thankful that I live in the time of rampant publishing and cable TV so that things like Feed and The Walking Dead can enter my world.

5. Yarn - When I think about the things that I truly love to do, the things that make me happy and feel contented with the world, crochet is right up there and it's so much happier with a wide of array of stuff to make. Thanks to Ravelry and Pinterest, patterns are no problem and thanks to online retailers, yarn is just a click away. Oh, yarn. How I love thee.

What about you? What silly little things are you giving thanks for this year?

*Mostly, I'm not as smart as I give myself credit for, because despite whatever other faults I believe myself to have, I think I'm pretty darn smart.


**Feed by Mira Grant. I am absolutely loving it, but I'm still not finished. It's the beginning of a series and I'm gonna be so hooked. Thank you so much to my friend, Sage, who sent this book when I needed it most. Not just because it was a zombie novel, but because I had forgotten that I do have friends who like the same, weird stuff as me.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Master Debater

Brynna is an argumentative little cuss. It's probably just a phase, but it's about to drive me up the tree.

This is a near-perfect transcript of an argument we had the other day:

Brynna: Well, I have saw big turtles too.
Me: Seen. You have seen.
B: No, I have saw.
Me: You have seen.
B: Saw is the past tense of see.
Me: Saw is the past simple tense. Seen is the past perfect tense. As in, I saw turtles. I have seen turtles.
B: No. Ms. Parker says that saw is the past tense of see.
Me: Well, Ms. Parker is not wrong, because saw is the past tense of see, but when you use the word have with an irregular verb, it changes it. So, the past perfect is have seen.
B: No, it's not. It's saw. I have saw.
Me: Listen, I spent four years and forty thousand dollars getting an English degree and having someone teach me grammar and you are second grade and I'm not going to sit here and argue this with you.
B: Okay, 'cause I'm right.
Me: anguished scream.


I have tried everything I know to try. I've proved her wrong. I've because I said so'd. I've told her that when you argue with people past the point where no one is going to agree, you are just trying to make them feel stupid and no one wants to feel stupid. I've yelled. I've spanked. I've time outed. It just doesn't seem to matter.

And the truth is - I'm reaping the whirlwind.

I've always tried to teach my girls that nothing is absolute. That if you disagree with something, you should calmly present a solid, well-thought argument and we shall see. In other words, it's okay to try to change my mind, so long as you do it well.

Brynna, my incredibly and amazingly logical child, has always gotten this. Until now. Now, her arguments always, always, always fall into one of two camps: I'm right because I'm right or I should get to because someone else does.

I feel that I've done my due diligence on providing information on exactly how strongly these arguments will be rejected: You're only right if you can prove that you are and I'm not so and so's mother and if I were, then I'd be having this argument with them.

As a past debater, I've always been a little proud of her amazing ability to out-argue many adults. She's completely floored a couple of people at church and even out-argued one of her teachers once. I'm not sure why we've gone backwards, but I am not happy about it.

I suppose this is just practice for those pesky teen aged years. I do hope the arguments get more creative, though. And perhaps about more interesting material.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Five Things on Friday - Dawn Edition

You may have picked up that I am not a morning person. I actually hate mornings. And I hate getting up early and getting out of the house. But I have to. And because I can't help looking at the bright side some days, I thought I would share the

Five Things that Make It Almost, But Not Quite Worth Getting Up
1. Sunrises - For the most part, I think sunrises are a watery and poor substitute for sunsets. However, every once in a while, I'll see a sunrise that really takes my breath away. Wednesday was one of those days. What I love about a good sunrise is that the colors are totally different from anything else you'll ever see, and like a rainbow, they are really hard to capture on film.

2. That extra half hour in the office - I get to work at least a half hour before I'm supposed to and at least 45 minutes before anyone else does. Sometimes I use that time to just play on the computer and sometimes I use it to get caught up on work or clean off my desk. Whatever I do, I do it in the complete peace and quiet that only comes from being the only person there. It's relaxing and calming and I wouldn't give it up.

3. Traffic - At night when I'm making my rounds, picking everyone up and heading back home, the traffic is at its worst. But in the morning, specifically, at 6:45 in the morning, it's just me and the truckers on the interstate. Okay, so the car line at school can be ridiculous, but otherwise, traffic that early moves pretty smoothly. It's nice to only have one rush hour a day.

4. Cold - I know I'm an odd duck, but I like cold weather. And it's so brisk in the early morning, you can almost feel the frost in the air. I love that. I love coats and hats and scarves, too. The downside to this is windshield scraping and bundling up the kids - who constantly loose their mittens, etc. But for me, walking out that door into the cold, still-night air is one of the best moments of my day.

5. Wildlife - Nothing has gone to bed yet and everything is beginning to wake, so living in the middle of nowhere, I see very cool creatures ear-lie in the morning. Deer, coyotes, raccoons, the occasional bat, turtles, rabbits, skunks. Everything headed out or headed home.

What's your biggest dark cloud and are there any silver linings?

Thursday, November 3, 2011

What Dreams May Come

Please pardon my rambling. It's one of those days. Tomorrow a very focused Five Things, promise.


Last night I had this bizarre and uncomfortable dream about someone trying to hurt me, emotionally. There was a lot of running around in corridors and this guy made me think that he was awful and everyone was on my side, but in reality, he was awful and everyone was on his side.

I woke up trying to remember why a balloon with a snottty message in it was scary enough for me to wake up in a cold sweat. I don't know... Maybe it's because I fell asleep watching American Horror Story or maybe it's just my stress level. Or maybe it's latent memories of those balloons in It and "we all float down here..."

I don't think I ever really got over being scared of It.


I've been dreaming a lot lately. Not just weird, uncomfortable night dreams that leave me feeling confused and also, sort of watched. Day dreams too. I'm dreaming of going back to school. I'm thinking about it a lot even though I've missed the cut off for Spring semester and it's going to be that much longer before I get it all together.

I'm dreaming of redecorating my kitchen and my bedroom.

I'm dreaming of opening an Etsy shop and selling some of my crafts.

I'm dreaming of keeping a clean house.

I'm dreaming of Christmas.

What I'm not doing is doing. I'm not studying for the GRE. I'm not painting my kitchen or rearranging my bedroom furniture to figure out if it fits the other way. I'm not stockpiling enough craftsy things to get a shop started. I'm not getting ahead of the curve on the housecleaning. I'm not making Christmas presents.

I'm just dreaming.

I feel stalled. I think it's a little because of the uncertainty in my life. It's a little because I'm avoiding home to some degree. And it's a little because nighttime, when I should be doing those things, is when I mostly succumb to the sadness. I feel a little sorry for myself and I want ice cream and TV. I haven't even been reading and that is really saying a lot for me. (My 33 list is looking pitiful.)

I need to get motivated to do something and do it.

I know me well enough to know that if I don't do anything, that just contributes to my malaise. The only way for me to get over it is to get moving. Not even a lot of moving - crochet, reading, just not long, hot baths and TV flipping.

I guess I'm putting this out there because I think if I see it in print, I'll know in my heart what I already know in my head.

I'm fine, but I'm also sad. I don't like dealing with the stuff - the clothes and books and boxes and things that belong to him. I don't want to see them, but I don't want to pack them up. I need to do things to feel good enough to do them, but to do that, I've got to go home and not go straight to bed. I've got to deal when I'm there with all the stuff that's much easier to deal with when I'm not there. I've got to get moving. Even a little. Because it's like an avalanche with me. A little pebble of movement will begin the cascade and then I'll be myself again.

I can't wait to be myself again.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

It's November 1st - Just So You Know

Today there is only one topic when you have small children in your life - how pwecious was wittle pweciousness last night!!

Pretty darn precious is the answer.

But first, let me share some Halloween trauma for you: Last year, Brynna wanted to be Scarlet O'Hara. Mostly because her cousin (who she completely looks up to in every way) gave her an outgrown Scarlet costume. I shrugged. Despite the fact that I always looked like a million bucks on Halloween as a child and paraded around town in the finest of handmade costumes, I kinda suck at the whole thing as a mom. But then, two days* before Halloween, I get a "reminder" from the school that costumes have to be characters from a book and the children have to bring said book with them.

Okay, so Scarlet is totally a character from a book, but am I really going to send my paperback with the classic bodice-ripper cover in to school with a first grader? No. So, we threw together a Pinkalicious costume at the last minute and the world went on.

This year, I thought I was sooo far ahead of the game when I rejected Brynna's idea to be Buffy the Vampire Slayer - because it had to be a character from a book. (Please note - we have Buffy books at home, but I like them all too much to send to school with a second grader and also, possibly not appropriate. Especially since they are mostly graphic novels and, well, for adults and stuff.) After much consternation, we arrived at Laura Ingalls. And I swooned. Because, How awesome!

I purchased a costume (a nice handmade one from a consignment sale - score!). However, Brynna misunderstood what "calico" is and "thought it would be prettier." No more Laura. Get that out of her closet. I hate it! Tears. Gnashing of teeth. Oookay.


That's Brynna as Ginny, Mario, a vampire fairy, Iron Man
and Luigi*
After some arguing and trying to reach a compromise, Brynna decided to be Ginny Weasley. (And my geek heart rejoiced and I may have taken a moment to believe that I am doing this right.) My mom purchased the replacement costume and I scrounged around the house for a week for the very cool wand we bought when Brynna was but a wee baby.

Then, as it turns out, second graders don't wear costumes to school. I'm not sure what this means, as a school rule. Are we done with costumes in school? Do they only get to wear them every other year? Perhaps it was a punishment for being such a horrible grade? Who knows. All I know is, as I told Brynna, we are done with that school's hoops. Next year she can be anyone she wants. I can't believe I blew my chance at a Buffy costume.

Now - for Maren. Maren wanted to be a bumble bee. Then, she wanted to be Jessie from Toy Story. Then she wanted to be a princess. When we got out all the dress up clothes in the house on the Saturday before Halloween to find an appropriate princess that fit her, she changed her mind to want to be a ballerina.
I am so lucky we have a nearly
bottomless dress up trunk.

Sunday night, she sleepily said, "I wanna be a cowgirl. No ballerina. Cowgirl."

Monday morning I packed both costumes, because sometimes I learn.

Indecision. Thy name be Maren.

Anyway, last night, there were costumes, there was candy, there were friends and running and glee and laughter and McDonald's because I forgot you have to feed those munchkin things. There was fun and it was all worth it. Today my legs are sore and other people are caring for my sugar-crashing demon children and I have pwecious pictures and all is right with the world.

How was your Halloween?

*It may have been as much as a week. Who can tell. Every time I tell this story, it gets closer to the big day.
**Brynna wouldn't quit moving long enough for me to get a picture of just her. Trust me, though, that wand is so cool.