raising butterflies

Wow

2010-01-06T10:49:00.000-05:00

The grandparents got Sissy an Eyeclops for Christmas. The Eyeclops, in my opinion, is the coolest Christmas gift ever and Sissy has been very sweetly sharing this incredible toy with me. We've taken lots of photos that may eventually wind up on here, but I had to post the snowflakes we looked at this morning.

These Short People Crack Me Up

2009-12-27T21:34:00.001-05:00

"Mommy, who is Mother Nature?," inquired Peanut as she and her sister were eating luch today. I don't know what it is about lunchtime that makes conversations more interesting.

"Hmm? Oh. Well.... there is no Mother Nature. There's, you know .... God. He makes the sunshine and the snow and the rain and all the other things people say Mother Nature is responsible for."

"Then why do people talk about Mother Nature?", she wondered.

"It's just something people say I guess .... I don't know .... maybe some people believe there really is a Mother Nature".

"Like who?", she demanded to know.

Came the dismissive reply from her sister across the table: "Probably the Catholics ".

Table Talk

2009-12-13T07:25:00.000-05:00

My daughters have their best conversations at the table when they're eating lunch or a snack and they think they are alone. The other night they had been making each other laugh with silly jokes for a while, when I overheard this:

Peanut : You know Sissy, we have so much fun together, sometimes I forget we're not the same age.

Sissy: Yeah, we both act like we're five.

It's Like Fetch

2009-11-28T19:41:00.001-05:00

.... but with babies instead of dogs. This is Peanut's explanation of the game she and Sissy played with Cute Little Nephew, wherein they would roll a ball down the hallway and Cute Little Nephew would squeal with delight while crawling at the speed of light to retrieve it.

I am thankful for my third Thanksgiving dinner, and for getting to meet my six-month-old baby cousin for the first time. She is so sweet, I wanted to eat her for dessert. Instead, I settled for the dreamy Oreo stuff my sister-in-law makes.

I am thankful for pumpkin and pecan pies that turned out very well, and for a clean kitchen right this minute.

Perhaps most of all though, I am thankful for leftovers.

Whatever Gets It Done

2009-11-26T15:31:00.002-05:00

OK this is going to be quick - we're supposed to eat at 4:00pm and I haven't even peeled the potatoes.

The girls are washing up the "good china", which there is a bunch of, but they don't mind because:

1. These dishes don't have yucky food all over them and
2. They are pretending to be servant girls in a castle with 1000 dishes to wash, and if the work is not finished by dinnertime, they will both be hanged.

Isn't that cheery? I thought so.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Remember the Alamo

2009-10-06T07:31:00.000-04:00

Suddenly, powder-stained, Almeron was there.

"Great God, Sue, the Mexicans ...."

All of Santa Anna's bands were playing the deguello together so everyone could hear it above the gunfire.

"....they're inside the north wall, hear them?"

Viva Santa Anna! Viva Santa Anna!

"If they spare you, save our child."

And he was gone.

Forever.

Every once in a great while,I discover a book that presents a paradox. The book is sometimes educational, but always so rich and full-of-life that I HAVE to read it to my kids. Here's the paradox. When reading it to my kids, certain passages evoke so much emotion in me, that I get choked up, consequently finding it very difficult to read the book aloud.

Such is the case with "Susanna of the Alamo" by John Jakes.

It is the true story of Susanna Dickinson, the only white woman to survive The Alamo.

I remember reading it to Brother 10+ years ago and how I fought back tears as I read the above passage. I was pregnant with Sissy at the time and blamed it on hormones. I've never been one to cry at the drop of a hat.

Last week as we studied the Mexican-American War, I read it to the girls. This time I pre-read it, hoping to desensitize myself enough to get through the thing without losing it.

No such luck. The same passage had the same effect.

In 1836 Susanna and her husband Almeron are a young couple in San Antonio. They have a baby daughter and a long life together to look forward to. They are happy.

Then Santa Anna and the Mexican army ride into town. Most of the town flees, but Susanna and Almeron are among the few hundred who stay, turning an old mission called the Alamo into a fort.

There is so much drama in the Battle of the Alamo, it seems like fiction. Less than four hundred men hold off an army of 3,000 for twelve days. Twelve days! .... the famous "Victory or death!" declaration by Colonel William B. Travis .... the presence of Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie.....

My girls don't understand why I get so emotional ..... how could they? How could they possibly imagine what it's like to be a young wife caught up in this battle, spending a few frantic seconds saying good-bye to her husband for what she knows is the last time?

I remain composed for the rest of the book - although my voice wavers dangerously when Susanna proudly refuses the blanket and $2 offered by Santa Anna - until the very end, when Susanna is told how General Sam Houston defeated Santa Anna at San Jacinto, and how Houston's soldiers shouted like wild men when they charged.

"What was it they shouted?", Susanna wants to know.

And my throat swells so that I can barely get out the words .......

"Remember the Alamo!"

She Lives

2009-10-02T22:57:00.001-04:00

I have to break my silence tonight. Today I turned 42. Here's how my day went.

This morning while I was sitting in the rocking chair drinking my coffee , Peanut surprised me by bringing me chocolate chip waffles that Brother made. Brother made chocolate-chip waffles! I've never even seen him use the waffle iron!

Then Sissy and Peanut made my bed. When I observed aloud how sweet they were being to me today, Peanut calmly responded, "It's what we do."

They were extra helpful around the house, extra compliant about schoolwork, and they secretly made me a cake with their grandmother's help. Peanut also made me a paper crown.

My Mom and Dad gave me some money and told me to go buy myself something, which I happily did. I now have blue jeans without holes in them.

I got taken out to dinner.

And finally, my crazy husband bought me a brand-new laptop. If I were to list the things we need here in order of importance, a new laptop would be # 297 followed by # 298 - a hole in the head. But I'm typing on it now and it is a dream. I feel like I did when I was sixteen and got my first typewriter.

Why can't every day be October 2?
Wait..... then tomorrow I would turn 43 and the next day .... no I can't even think about it.
Once a year is plenty.

We Card Under 40

2009-08-26T21:56:00.004-04:00

I was feeling pretty good when I got to the checkout counter at Walgreen's.

You know how you feel right after you color your hair? Like you just knocked several years off your age? That's how I was feeling. Probably because I had just colored my hair.

Also, I was wearing my favorite jeans and a top that was the perfect length -- long enough to provide strategic coverage, but not long enough to conjure up images of that tall Golden Girl.

Also, and the significance of this cannot be overstated, I was going on a full night's sleep.

So it was with a spring in my step and the confidence of a girl half my age that I approached the counter to pay for my purchases.

Suddenly there it was.

Facing me as I waited my turn, was a huge yellow sign that read:

WE CARD UNDER 40

Of all the times in my life when I was struck with the realization of how old I am, including the time Peanut marvelled aloud at my age, and the first time I ran into an old schoolfriend who is now a grandmother, I have never been made to feel so ancient as when I read those four words.

WE CARD UNDER 40. The underlying message was unmistakable:

For those 39 and under - have your ID ready. Please don't be offended by the inconvenience... after all, some of you look young enough to pass as minors, and some sixteen year-olds look every bit of twenty-three. We just want to be sure we're following the law.

If you're over 40 --- don't bother. There is absolutely no chance on earth we're going to wonder if we're making an illegal sale to you.

When my turn came, I laid my items on the counter, and smiled at the clerk. Smiling makes you look younger doesn't it? Silently, I begged her to card me. How do they KNOW who's under 40 anyway? 41 is just over the line. I kept my eyebrows raised hoping to pass for a 39 year-old who'd had a hard life.

No such luck.

There was some consolation in the knowledge that proof of age is not usually required for purchasing milk and nail polish.

I briefly considered asking for a pack of Marlboro Lights.

Deciding it wasn't worth the risk to my ego, I relaxed my eyebrows and left with all the dignity an old woman can muster.

Summer of 2009

2009-08-08T21:56:00.006-04:00

When I try to write about heavy stuff, the results usually read like an over-the-top soap opera script. Unless I overcompensate, in which case the results read like a bad stand-up comic routine.

It is for that reason that my blog is largely silent on matters that spend much time in my thoughts. I figure if I can't make my words reflect my feelings, then it's better to say nothing.

But two things happened this summer that I can't leave unmentioned.

In June a precious, old friend lost a sister too young. Not having sisters, I've always been a fascinated observer of the relationship my daughters have with each other. The thought of either of them without the other one in her life breaks my heart for my friend.

In July, we said good-bye to my father-in-law, and my husband began adjusting to a parentless life, becoming acquainted with terms like "executor" and "probate", while I alternated "being there for him" and "giving him space", and felt hopelessly inadequate at both.

And that's all I can say about that.

On a lighter note, it's also been a summer of firsts.
Here are a few things that until this summer, had never happened here.

*Peanut jumped off the diving board.

*I danced with a snake in my kitchen.

*Sissy discovered Trixie Belden.

*We watched the Sound of Music.

* It rained in our living room.

* We took a daytrip with the kids - hiking and a picnic in the mountains of western North Carolina. It was the most perfect day of the whole summer.

*I taught a friend how to make a skirt.
This also goes on the list of Things I Never Thought I'd Do, right after *Made a skirt.

*Sissy and Peanut were introduced to the music of Michael Jackson.

* I pulled a chain in my hall closet and there was light.
This is the one that almost makes me weep with happiness. After twenty-two YEARS of feeling around in the dark for sheets and band-aids, I can see inside my closet!

Summer is not over yet, but school is underway and a busy schedule looms ahead.

Next week Sissy turns ten (sigh). But she still gives me hugs for no reason.
And Peanut has the most endearing gap in her teeth, that I know won't be there in three months, but for now, I'm eating up her gummy smile.

Elusive Songbird Now Making Regular Appearances

2009-06-16T08:40:00.007-04:00

Sissy sings in the shower. I love to hear Sissy sing in the shower. Usually she's so self-conscious about singing, her voice is barely audible. But I guess the privacy of the bathroom combined with those awesome acoustics are enough to make her lose her inhibition, because she really turns loose when she's in there. Her rather eclectic repertoire includes the following.

There is a Redeemer

When God Dips His Pen of Love in My Heart

Busca Primero (Seek Ye First)

Feed the Birds

Cruella Deville

Respect

Rocky Top

Stop in the Name of Love

She has a very sweet voice, but will only sing with full abandon if she doesn't realize anyone is listening. So if you're ever in the area around 7:30pm , stop by and be treated to a free concert. But you have to be gone before she comes out of the bathroom.

Fireflies

2009-06-02T21:54:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was the first official day of our summer vacation.

After supper I made slushies and we drank them on the back porch.
Then the girls started throwing frisbee and talked me into joining them. Somehow this evolved into a brutally physical but hysterically funny game of Monkey-In-The-Middle.

I suggested we end the first day of summer vacation by catching fireflies. Actually, I've always called them lightning bugs, but "fireflies" is so much more poetic. The girls were all for it, so we stayed outside and waited. But no fireflies.

Tonight we tried again and we were not disappointed! This time we were out a little later, after the girls had taken their showers. We only saw a couple in our yard, but several were twinkling in the distant dusk of my parents' yard, so off we went.

Thirty minutes and many squeals of delight later, we had a jar of maybe half a dozen fireflies. Many others were chased, and really, isn't the chase what it's all about? Running with cupped hands toward what was a second ago, a blinking light, but now -- where'd he go? Then another twinkle - hey there he is -- oh, why won't his light stay on longer?

I am sad for anyone who doesn't have a childhood memory of watching these fairy-lights on early summer evenings when staying out past dark feels like really getting by with something.

And I'm thankful to still have kids young enough to appreciate the enchantment of fireflies.

My Week in Review

2009-05-23T21:47:00.004-04:00

* Attended a homeschool used-curriculum sale where I scored the Science texts I've been wanting for half the new price. Also found the Latin program I've been thinking of using, also half-price. This will only be a great deal, however, if I actually use the program. Hmmm.

* Asked Brother for the answer to Peanut's question - "What comes after a trillion?" and then turned to the Internet when she wanted to know what came after a quadrillion. Found a list of really big numbers and their names. Finally found out what a googol is ( the number 1 followed by 100 0's), as well as a googolplex (the number 1 followed by a googol of 0's). Tried to explain to Peanut the difference between the two. Deflected Peanut questions about infinity X infinity. Took 800mg Ibuprofen. Did NOT remember learning this stuff in school.

* Read with the girls about the rise of the opium trade in 18th century China. Discussed opium and some of its uses and abuses. Can say without a doubt I did not learn this stuff in school.

* Early in the week, decided on the name Elvis for the cute mockingbird who recently began hanging out in our crabapple tree, and serenading us with an ever-changing melody all day.

* Yesterday, contemplated ways to kill Elvis.

* Made the girls assemble together in one room, all the baby dolls and stuffed animals in the house. Told them each to pick five dolls and five animals to keep and say good-bye to the rest.
Sweetened the deal with the promise of new Legos.
Scolded myself for resorting to bribery, and reminded myself that buying new toys will only defeat the purpose of decluttering the old toys.
Retorted to myself that one box of Legos takes up a fraction of the space all these dolls and plush toys take, and told myself to can the sermon and take a hike.
Secretly stashed a few dolls that didn't make the cut.

* Went without water most of today while Keith worked on some plumbing. Tried not to think about the laundry I wasn't doing, or the bathrooms that weren't getting cleaned. Ran the vacuum instead.

We Survived Disney World

2009-05-13T21:59:00.007-04:00

Not only did we survive, I can honestly say we had a great time. I can also honestly say it was without question the most physically exhausting vacation we have ever taken.

By my calculations we spent 60 hours of last week in theme parks. I'm still amazed at how well the girls held up, especially considering daytime temperatures hovering in the mid-90's.

They really hung in there, kept up with me and Keith (or did we keep up with them?), and only complained about the heat once and that was on Day 6.

A detailed account of our trip is just too overhwelming too think about right now, but I do want to record some things before I forget them, so in no particular order, here are a few Disney memories:

1. Day 1 - Peanut is beside herself with excitement .... about riding a bus. Disney buses transport resort guests from their hotels to and from the parks. We are on our way to the Magic Kingdom in one of them now, and Peanut keeps looking around and giddily whispering, "I can't believe we're riding a real BUS!"

2. Day 5 - En route back to the hotel, Peanut announces, "I hate these buses. They're no fun any more".

3. Riding Splash Mountain in Magic Kingdom ... while slowly being chain-cranked up a steep hill, you see nothing but sky until at the very top of the hill, the Cinderella Castle comes into view. You have .5 seconds to reflect on its beauty before the bottom drops out from under you and you are sent screaming down the other side. Coolest view in the whole park.

4. There are people in this world who will flatten you with a stroller on their way to meet Mickey. And they won't even think twice about it (shudder).

5. Heaven is a cold, wet bandanna around your neck on a 95-degree day in a concrete jungle.

6. I heard the phrase "That was SO AWESOME!!!" about 1000 times during the week.

7. After riding Rock n' Rollercoaster with Sissy, I was saying it too. That baby goes zero to sixty in less than 3 seconds!

8. We saw child after tired, overstimulated child in various stages of emotional meltdown .... almost all appeared to be under six or so. We watched parents struggle to quickly fold and unfold contrary strollers as they were boarding the buses. And it made us SOOO thankful that we waited until the girls were older before trying this. At 9 and 8, they were old enough to go on their own power and take last minute changes in plans in stride, but still young enough to get into meeting the characters and riding Dumbo.

9. If heaven is a wet bandanna, the pineapple ice cream floats in Adventureland are the next closest thing.

10. When walking through crowds I still instinctively reach for my daughters' hands. At Disneyworld though, it was so hot we held pinkies instead.

11. Speaking of hands, if my daughter's learned only one thing last week it was how to wash theirs. Three females means several bathroom trips per day. With swine flu and other nasty bugs making the news, I taught a course in Handwashing with every bathroom trip. We would have contests to see who could scrub up the most suds on their hands. Then we would rinse , dry, and leave, avoiding door handles like the plague -- and board the next ride, holding onto a lapbar that thousands of other hands had already touched that day. Thank goodness for hand sanitizer.

There should be no more to that place than you can see and do in three days. After which, you could use the remainder of a week's vacation to go lie on a beach and recover.

We made it home in one day --- 12 hours and 15 minutes to be exact. The girls did so well traveling, that I wonder if in a year they might be ready for that Northwest trip we've always wanted to take .... Mt. Rushmore, Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons ..... but that's too much to think about right now.

It's good to be home.

A Postcard From the Road

2009-05-03T07:51:00.002-04:00

Greetings from Daytona Beach, Florida! After 12 1/2 hours on the road yesterday we stopped here about 10:30 last night.

The girls traveled so much better than I expected. We brought books on CD, music, and books to read, and they were content the whole way here, except when they really, really had to go to the bathroom.

We're leaving now for Orlando .....yee-ha!

We're Going To See The Mouse

2009-05-01T23:08:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow we make our pilgrimage to the American mecca that is Walt Disney World. Keith and I are alternately excited and apprehensive about it.

We're excited for the girls because they've never been and we remember how much fun it was for Brother when we took him .

We're apprehensive for a few reasons:

1. We remember something else about our Disney trip with Brother , and that is, we walked the ever-loving soles of our feet off every day for seven days and came home dog-tired. Coming home dog-tired from a vacation just isn't right. We much prefer lying on a beach and listening to ocean waves to pounding hot pavement all day. And we're twelve years older now than on our first Disney trip. We're really just hoping we don't flag out before the kids.

2. The amount of pre-trip information you have to wade through and make decisions about is very intimidating. I'm not sure, but I think small countries have been taken over with less strategic planning than we have done for this vacation. I checked out the Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World from the library, and the kicker for me, was the chapter on making meal reservations. I am not kidding when I say that FOUR PAGES of this book were used to give detailed instruction on the split-second speed-dialing and verbal shorthand needed to have any hope at all of scoring a reservation for a meal with Cinderella in her castle. You're supposed to interrupt the customer service rep when they've just answered the line and are in the middle of a friendly greeting, to blurt out your reservation request and date. You're even instructed not to waste time saying "please" and "thank you". All this so that precious nanoseconds are not lost. After all, reservations with Cinderella could fill up in the time it takes to say "Please".
Those four pages alone were almost enough to make me change my mind about going. And I don't even WANT a dinner with Cinderella. We're having breakfast with Mary Poppins, and reservations for that meal were easily made and did NOT necessitate being rude to anybody :)

3. It's so stinking expensive. And if you stay inside the resort, it's like you're locked into a money-sucking vortex. If you need something and you didn't bring it with you, they'll probably have it..... but oh baby, are you going to pay for it. That's why I have packed everything I can possibly think of that we will need while we're there. I'm even thinking of washing our clothes out in our hotel room bathtub because I don't want to pay to use the laundromat. Keith thinks I'm carrying it too far. We'll see what I feel like after pounding pavement all day.

4. Crazy people go there. People who use split-second speed dialing and rude dialogue to get reservations with Cinderella. People who spend $40 on a "makeover" for their daughters at the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique. They put on some sparkly makeup and put the girls' hair up in buns.
They spray some more sparkly stuff. And that's the $40 makeover. For $50 you get all that plus a manicure. See what I mean? Crayyy-zee.

On the whole, we're really looking forward to it though. I just have a feeling we're going to come home dog-tired and flat broke. Oh well, you can't say we're not doing our part for the economy :)

There Goes the Sun

2009-04-07T18:58:00.004-04:00

I don't really have a song to sing today. I thought about "Cold As Ice", but once you get past the title it doesn't really fit. And for some reason, today's snowy, blustery, freezing conditions, didn't give me the blues like I thought it would.

I mean I would never wish for snow in April, but I can say now it was quite bearable.

I mean, the 60 cumulative seconds I spent outside on my way to and from the car --were quite bearable.

I wonder what I would think if I had to work outside half the day like Keith.

I made his favorite Loaded Baked Potato Soup last night. He'll probably finish it off tonight, but for the rest of us, today's special was 15 -Bean Soup. I seasoned it with a hambone I'd been saving since last week, and stirred up a pan of cornbread to go with it . Mmmmboy.

A reason to make soup two days in a row.
See there's a bright side to unseasonable weather

Here Comes The Sun

2009-04-05T21:45:00.004-04:00

On days like this I always think of that Beatle's song.

Little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter

Little darlin', it's feels like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun, dootendootoo

Here comes the sun and I say,

"It's alright."

Got the bikes out today, loaded them up and took them to a nearby walking/biking trail. This trail goes right by the nursing home where Keith's Dad lives, so we parked about two miles away and rode our bikes to the nursing home, stopped to visit Sam, and then rode back.

It was a beautiful afternoon for a ride. The grass is so green it doesn't even look real, the sky a brilliant blue. After the dreariness of winter, everything looks Technicolor , like when Dorothy found herself in the Land of OZ.

We saw some wildflowers, a couple of Canada geese, and a Momma duck and her babies.

Peanut didn't complain or tire out at all, and that is a huge deal.

With temperatures in the low 70's, it was our first "shorts day". I was happy to see ours weren't the only pale, unhealthy-looking legs out and about.

Here comes the sun, dootendootoooo ....... oh but wait. By Tuesday we're supposed to have daytime temps in the 30's and snow.

You better believe I'll be singing a different tune. I don't know yet which one, but I expect the word "Blues" will appear in the title.

Teatime

2009-03-31T21:43:00.010-04:00

A Proper Tea is much nicer than a Very Nearly Tea, which is one you forget about afterwards. ~A.A. Milne

So Peanut had a birthday and wanted a party. The thing is, I don't do birthday parties. We don't have room to have a lot of kids over at once, and we refuse to pay an exorbitant price to have the party someplace bigger and more fun. I think my husband and I are among the few holdouts who stand firm in the belief that you don't HAVE to have a huge birthday party every year to have a happy childhood. Also, large numbers of unruly children make me crazy.

But Peanut, in her very Peanutty way, prattled on about a party. What we ended up with was a happy compromise.

Her birthday came and went and we celebrated in the usual way.... just us and the grandparents.

Then a week LATER we had a semi-impromptu tea party. We only had two guests, both were neighbors, so a total of four girls, which was perfect for my stress level.

The girls dressed up in fancy little dresses, hats, and gloves. They watched the "Time for Tea" scene from "Mary Poppins", played a Princess game, and then sat down to tea.

The table was lovely thanks to my neighbors silver teapot and my mother's rosebud teacups.

The menu was simple:

heart-shaped ham and cheese sandwiches

strawberries, white and red grapes

chocolate- dipped vanilla wafers

butter cake with white frosting

assorted fruit teas

hot chocolate

strawberry punch

There were going to be scones - we made them a few weeks ago, and they're awesome -- but we ran out of time.

Although a couple of them tried the tea, they all ended up drinking hot chocolate (big surprise!).

We also set up a tea table for their dolls. The whole thing was very sweet and I think they had a wonderful time.

After tea, they let their hair down by partying with Peanut's birthday present - a karaoke machine. We put on a Disney songs CD and they each sang a song and then in a big finale they all came together to sing "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious".

That night as I was kissing her "Good-night", Peanut said, "I know it wasn't a birthday party, but if it HAD been a birthday party, it would've been the best birthday party I ever had."

This was confirmation for me that sometimes simpler is just better.

Curiosity & the Cat Part - II

2009-02-28T20:34:00.011-05:00

My last post found me rediscovering the natural curiosity of Sissy and being both ecstatic about and overwhelmed by it.
An attempt at a similar conversation with Peanut resulted in a misunderstanding and a great one-liner for the end of my post.
This post is, in part, about the rest of the conversation with Peanut.
After I realized that I had been unclear, I took the time to put into context what I was asking her. Then she, very much like her sister, fired off a list of questions faster than I could write them down, including:

How do scuba diving suits work....especially the flippers? How do flippers make you swim better?
How do astronaut suits make you float in space?
(The first question I was able to answer on the spot ! They don't. Lack of gravity makes you float in space. Astronaut suits just keep you alive while you're floating. )
If you get eaten by something, will you go to heaven, or will you just stay in the animal or whatever-ate-you-up's stomach forever?
(The only other question I was able to answer on the spot).
Why do little girls love baby dolls so much?
How does the computer save your game? I don't mean a CD game, I mean on the Internet, when you tell it your password and your game comes up where you left off before? How does it DO that?
Why do softballs have to be bigger than baseballs and T-balls?
How do cameras work?
(ME: You mean digital cameras or.....upon seeing Peanut's blank expression, I answer myself ...yes, you mean digital).

I think what amazed me more than anything is the variety of topics they wanted to know more about, and how freely the questions flew once the door was opened. It makes me wonder what else goes on inside their little heads.

It also inspired me to put into black-and-white, some questions I've had myself recently like:

1. Considering the condition of "official religions" of certain countries - religions that are publicly endorsed by the government, not to mention those that are mandated by the government, not to mention the practices of the Puritan settlers of this country, not to MENTION we just elected a President who many believe has been, directly or not, influenced by Islam ........

is separation of church and state REALLY a bad thing?

2. If nobody here has OCD, how come there's never any toilet paper?

3. Why did the Founding Fathers sign a document in 1776 that declared ".....all men are created equal....." , only to sign another document a few years later which , in very cleverly disguised wording , stated that slaves would be counted as "three-fifths of one person". Oh I know it was the result of the Great Compromise. But 200+ years later when schoolchildren are studying these documents side-by-side .... it doesn't look good, guys. That's all I'm sayin'.

4. If I have to go gray, why can't I just wake up one day looking like Emmylou Harris?

5. What was the earliest Christian church really like? How did they worship? Were there musical instruments? Did the congregation applaud after special music? Was there charismatic -type freedom of worship? Or was the atmosphere more formal and solemn? Was there an altar call? How many times a week did they meet? Was there age-separated Bible instruction or did they all meet together?

6. Whatever happened to my Mary Poppins board game? I've already asked my mother and she doesn't know.

7. Why do stomach viruses always hit at night?

Wow, I can see now how it's possible to have a bunch of interests on the back-burner of your mind at the same time.

Oh, I started chipping away at Sissy's list and I learned something.

Mood rings?

Liquid crystal, color-sensitive to body temperature. They can't tell what kind of mood you're in at all. Who knew ;)

Did Curiosity Kill The Cat.....

2009-02-25T20:22:00.006-05:00

...or did it just send her into hiding? .....and what part did the cat's mother play in it all?

I found out something exciting about Sissy today. Apparently, she has questions. There are things she wonders about. I know, it doesn't sound exciting in print but if you knew Sissy .....
let me just back up a bit.

From sometime around age five to six, Sissy was brimming over with curiosity about the world around her. It was really intoxicating to watch. The backyard, the bathtub, the kitchen sink .... they were all her classrooms. She learned so much by playing .... you could just see the wheels turning in her head. She was also constantly asking questions. It was like her mission in life was to gain as much information as possible about everything under the sun.

At some point though, she stopped asking questions. Or maybe she just slowed way down. At any rate, she stopped being the curious little girl full of wide-eyed wonder at the world.
What happened to that little girl?
Was she outgrowing a stage of development in which natural inquisitiveness is at its peak?
Was it -- oh Lord, no -- was it MY doing?
Shamefully, I remember begging her to hold off on the questions for awhile before Mommy's head exploded. I had given her the all too easy "I don't know" more times than I wanted to count.
Maybe in our homeschool, I had steered too traditional. In my heart of hearts, I was all for delight-directed learning, but I know myself and how distractible and airbrained I can be, and I had to have a routine.... had I become such a slave to it that I squashed Sissy's love of learning?

After today, I can thankfully say, "No!"

It began when I was looking at a Magic Schoolbus Question and Answer book with Sissy, and I said something benign and cheesy like -
"It's fun to learn new stuff, isn't it?"
She agreed it was.
Then, I said something that I would have thought my kids already knew..... in fact, I don't even know why I said it.... but I hugged her to me and said ...
"You know, if you ever have questions about anything, I mean ANYTHING, you know you can ask me. I may not know all the answers, but I'll try to help you find them."

She pulled away from me looking as though I had just given her a gift-wrapped box.
"Ohhh good!", she said. "Because I have a LOT of questions!"

"Really?... Oh... OK....umm, let's see.... ". There happened to be some paper and a pen lying nearby so I reached for it somewhat nervously (I hadn't expected her to start right NOW) and told her to shoot.

And in rapid-fire succession, as if they had waiting, crowded together behind an unopened door, the questions tumbled out into the open.

"How does a mood ring work?"
"How does medicine help you get better?"
"How does a music CD work?"
"How do they read the bar codes on foods and other things, and anyway what are the bar codes for?"
"How do we get water in our faucet?"
"How does electricity get through the wires?"

Here, she stopped to let my writing catch up.

"OK then, is that all?" I looked up.

"No, I've also been wondering .....
How does a thermometer work? How do you make trees into paper? How does heat get through the register into our rooms? I used to think the heat came from the air outside, but in wintertime it's cold outside, so I don't know .... also how does a spinning wheel make wool into yarn? How do shampoo and soap make you clean? How do you get the meat out of animals so you can eat it? How do computers, TV, and videocameras work? How does a piano work?
Also a violin. How does a violin work? I mean how can you just touch a string with something and get beautiful sound like that?"

Oh wow. My head was reeling. I had evidently opened up a floodgate and now, I was drowning in the rushing torrent. But I could have cried with excitement. She was still in there! My little sponge, my curious girl! I hugged her again and breathed in her smell.
"I've missed you so much", I whispered.

"What'd you say Mommy?"

Hmm? Oh, nothing. Hey if you've been wondering all these things, why didn't you ever ask me before?

She shrugged her shoulders and said breezily, "I just keep forgetting!"

I was really impressed at the list. They were good questions. In fact, with the exception of the mood ring mystery, they were all very practical, questions about things that surround her every day.... and hey, I've always wondered about mood rings myself.

She took the pen and paper and went off to add still more questions to the list. I think we're going to have to draw one question from a jar and answer it before we tackle any more.

On a whim, or maybe feeling like a glutton for punishment, I found Peanut.

"You know, I just found out that there are a lot of things your sister wants to know more about. What about you? Is there anything you've been wondering?"

"Well...." she thought a few seconds. "Well I HAVE been wondering if I'm going to get a Nintendo DS for my birthday."

I can always count on that kid for a punchline.

The Sky is Falling But I'll Be OK

2009-02-03T21:48:00.004-05:00

A year or two ago we came to the realization that the Weather Channel was getting too much airtime at our house.

The same ads play over and over, (unmute it Mommy it's the Head-On commercial!), the weather forecast is shown every ten minutes, and the same Weather Channel programs are promoted about as frequently. We tolerated this because we are creatures of habit, and watching The Weather Channel was like a draw from a Marlboro Light to a two-pack-a-dayer.

Then one day when the TV wasn't even on, Peanut came to me, visibly upset, and said,

"Mommy, I'm afraid it's going to happen tomorrow!".

When I asked what she was afraid would happen tomorrow, she very worriedly said, "I don't know but The Weather Channel keeps saying "It Could Happen Tomorrow", and I'm afraid it will!".

Around this time we remembered that both Peanut and Sissy had nervously voiced concerns about unlikely but scary weather phenomena like avalanches and tidal waves. That's when we knew we had hit rock-bottom. So we didn't watch the Weather Channel on TV after that. It was actually pretty easy... we knew we could get a quick fix by going to weather.com, and a quick fix was usually all we needed anyway.

Peanut's fear of the unknown impending crisis disappeared and the general mood around here has been less heavy. It's funny how continuous previews of natural disasters can drag you down.

I wonder though, if in the interest of allaying her fears, we have gone too far in the opposite direction. The other morning, because of some buzz about winter weather and potential schedule changes, The Weather Channel made a temporary comeback on our TV.

Peanut watched an ad for "Storm Trackers" or some other such program in which huge, dark funnel clouds are shown barreling down on unsuspecting buildings while a dramatic male voice intones things like, "Is this town prepared for the worst catastrophe in its history?!?"

And when it was over, she turned to me and asked me what would happen to her if she got sucked up in a tornado..... and while I was wondering how to answer her, she laughingly said this:

"Oh I know what would happen. It would spin me around and around, and when it set me down again, I would be really, REALLY dizzy".

So she has a psychological cushion now - a sort of internal guideline that says: When mentally placing yourself in the most dangerous scenario imaginable, minor injuries are all you may allow yourself to incur - and you should always give yourself a way out.

Whatever. I'm not messing with it.

Another Lapse in Judgment

2009-01-15T21:32:00.012-05:00

The girls sometimes get books on CD from the library. Like me, they love to read, but sometimes it's fun to listen and let's face it, being read to by the same old voice all the time can get rather dull. Even I think so, and it's my voice.

So last week Sissy was happy to run across a CD version of "A Christmas Story", by Jean Shepherd. You've seen the movie right? It's one of our favorites..... a glimpse of life in the 1940's and a kid who wants a Red Ryder carbine-action BB gun more than anything in the world.
The down-home nostalgia, the lines, oh man, the immortal LINES in that movie.....

You'll shoot your eye out, kid.
Why it's a major award, can't you see?
I triple dog-dare you!
Tell us Ralphie..... what brought you to this LOOOOOWLY state?

I could go on and on but I won't. Anyway, I thought it was great that Sissy had found this audiobook. ..... read by Dick Cavett. "Oh, that's nice," I thought. "He has such a pleasant voice". I even thought I might sit down and listen to some of it with her.

But when we got home, I had other things to tend to and Sissy went straight off to pop in her audiobook. A little while later I walked by the room she was in and something caught my ear.
It was the scene in which Ralphie's Dad goes into the basement to fix the furnace .....

"Aha? AHAA? I-I-I-T'S A CLINKER!"

It's one of the best scenes in the movie so I stopped to listen. In the movie, Ralphie's grownup voice narrates this scene .....

"my old man wove a tapestry of obscenity that as far as we know still hangs in space somewhere over Lake Michigan"

In the MOVIE, throughout the narration of this scene, we hear an angry Ralphie's Dad raging over the furnace, and, thanks to the narration, we have no doubt that he's spewing out obscenities, but the words themselves are really vague and unintelligible.

You get where I'm going with this don't you?

Oh yeah. In the audiobook? Every word uttered by Ralphie's Dad is crystal-clear.

I guess I should be glad I walked by before the scene in which Ralphie says THE word, the BIG one, the queen-mother of all dirty words ..... but right now I'm just wishing I could wash her ears out with soap.

Twas Two Days Before Christmas ....

2008-12-31T23:34:00.005-05:00

and nothing went right.

December 23 found me hopping back and forth between Sissy who was using the sewing machine to make a fleece hat for her Daddy, and Peanut, who was using the mixer to make cookies. I have these lapses in judgement, see, that result in my daughters simultaneously using two different powerful electric machines semi-independently.

Fortunately, no injuries occurred. However, while I was helping Sissy, Peanut inadvertently quadrupled the salt that went into the cookies, as I found out when I helped myself to a big bite of dough (oh come on, you do it too). Then when Sissy finished the hat, we found that it was too small for HER, let alone her Daddy.

So we were batting 0 for 2 when my father came by and offered to take the girls to the mall with him. They were just going to pick up a box for my mother's gift, he said. I should have known better.

They were gone two hours and when they returned my father told me something was wrong with Sissy.

"She says she feels like she's going to throw up", he said.
"I think she needs to see a doctor", he said.
"She needs some bloodwork done", he said.

She really did look terrible -- weak-eyed, pasty complexion. She had recently had a stomach virus but I thought she was over it. I was starting to worry.

Then I asked them about their trip to the mall.

It seems they started out with a giant soft pretzel and a strawberry Dutch ice. Then they went straight to the rock wall which Sissy climbed and rapelled down four times. Because you know, there's nothing like the feeling of rapid descension on a full stomach. THEN they went to the big inflatable bouncy room where they spent some time jumping around, whipping those stomach contents up like a KitchenAid on 10. THEN on their way out they stopped at the motorized kiddie cars (the ones Peanut was too grown up for in my last post). There they gradually slowed the batter in the stomach to a milder stirring speed. It was on the way home that Sissy started feeling sick.

I guess periodic lapses in judgment are hereditary.

I wanted to grab my father by the shoulders and say, "Who are you and what have you done with the man who raised me? I know you're not him, because you're nothing like him. He knew the meaning of the word "No". In fact, he often followed the word "No" with the words "It'll give you a bellyache"."

Instead, I just said, "Do you think maybe all that motion might be what upset her stomach?"
He was gracious enough to allow room for that theory.

My Dad - most of the time, he's exactly what he appears to be... a mild-mannered 72 year-old man. But when he's with his granddaughters, he's a 9 year-old kid. Who has a license to drive. And money in his pocket.

So the cookies, the hat, and the trip to the mall were all a bust.

There was a bright side though. It would have been even worse if all that stuff had happened on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Season Extended

2008-12-25T22:01:00.004-05:00

I've always loved the day after Christmas. The madness that has been slowly building to a nerve-snapping crescendo over the last couple of weeks suddenly screeches to a halt.

The kids have new stuff that hasn't yet bored them. Supper is just a matter of reheating delicious leftovers . Everything mellows out around here and I really, finally take time to reflect on the birth of my Saviour.

As far as gift-giving and family meals, we were done by noon today. I had started a playlist of Christmas songs on Tuesday, and this afternoon I was in the mood for more Christmas music so I added some more songs to the list. And because I want to stretch the holidays out, I'm leaving the list up here until January.

These are all songs I love, and by the way, I do happen to like some Christmas songs that aren't sacred...... I would have included Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You" because I can't hear it and NOT sing along no matter where I am, but it would have seemed a little out of place. Much more appropriate here are her beautifully soulful "Silent Night", and blood-pumping "Jesus - Oh What A Wonderful Child".

In some cases, artists I dig meet up with longstanding favorite songs of mine (see Styx and Third Day).

Since the first time I ever heard it, there has been no other "Little Drummer Boy" but Bob Seger for me. Such a sweet story, I had to include it for sentimental reasons. I wish it was based on fact.

The Faith Hill song is new to me this year. If you haven't heard it, give it a listen. It's so simply and profoundly true.

A baby changed everything. Hallelujah!

Well, The Jig Is Up Folks

2008-12-23T13:47:00.003-05:00

I can't say I didn't see it coming. Last year Peanut expressed doubt that a man could make reindeer fly and deliver toys to all the children in the world in one night.

We pretended we didn't hear her.

Then on Christmas morning, their "Santa" gifts were clearly and professionally labeled "To: Sissy or Peanut From: Santa ". That way, each girl knew which gifts were hers, and there was no suspiciously familiar handwriting on the tags.
Yes, Santa was feeling pret-tee clever. That new labelmaker she had received from her parents on Christmas Eve was already proving itself useful. And the kids had been so busy opening THEIR gifts from the grandparents that they didn't even pay attention to the gifts everyone else got. Or so Santa thought. Until, on Christmas morning, Sissy casually observed that their gift tags from Santa looked a lot like they had been printed with Mommy's new labelmaker.

These kids today. They never fail to amaze Santa.

Anyway, the subject was dropped for the next eleven months. Then, a few weeks ago, out of the blue, Peanut asked me point -blank: "Is Santa really you?" After stalling for a few seconds, I decided a direct question deserved a direct answer, and confessed. She and Sissy both laughed, but it was ambivalent laughter, and hearing it made me die just a little.

It's really kind of a relief that they know, since we've struggled with the Santa issue in the past, as I've blogged about before.
But it's also another sign that my babies are growing up, and that realization always kills me.

Like tonight in the mall when we walked by the coin operated kiddie cars and and Peanut laughed as she remembered how she used to liked to ride them "when she was little". It's been less than a year since the last time she begged me to stop and let her ride. Tonight I thought of the many times I said "no" because I was in too big a hurry, or just didn't feel like digging around for fifty cents. And I died just a little.

Lately, it seems my most desperate prayer is "Lord, please slow it down. Please don't let them keep growing up so fast. "

But it's unavoidable. And so, in our house 2008 will be the year we officially stopped believing in Santa Claus.

Deep down I know it's a good thing. But I'm still dyin'.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T19:36:00.006-05:00

You know, I live in an almost perpetual state of distraction.

When I'm talking to Keith, my attention wanders toward the sound of arguing sisters in the next room.

When I kiss the girls good-night, even as they wrap their arms around my neck and declare their undying love for me, my mind has already walked away and flopped down on the couch to watch TV with Keith.

When I'm on the phone with my mother, I frequently realize I haven't been listening, and I'm never really sure how long I was in outer space, so I have to very carefully reenter the conversation.

When I'm sitting in church .... well, you get the idea.

It's like my world is mostly veiled in a light, intermittent fog. This fog is patchy enough that I am usually aware of what's going on around me and can even participate without anyone else realizing that I'm not fully engaged.

There are times however, when God gives me the ability to fully experience life in that particular moment.. When this happens, when the fog actually parts, there is a brief, beautiful window of hyperreality that brings my surroundings into sharp focus. Colors are more intense, sounds are richer, people I love are suddenly that much more precious. I hold tight to this moment for as long as I can, but soon the fog rolls back in.

The wonderful thing about these moments of clarity is that even after they disappear in the mist, I can remember them, at least for a little while. Many of these high-definition experiences have been written about in this blog. A priceless few have been etched into my memory for years.

I still remember a car ride with Brother when he was two. It was a routine errand, nothing special at all. But the day was gorgeous, and I had the windows in my little hatchback rolled down and the Allman Brothers in the tape deck. It was during the guitar solo on "Blue Sky" that I glanced in the rearview mirror at Brother, patting his carseat in time to the music while he watched the passing scenery. A second later, his eyes connected with mine in the mirror and he flashed me a grin that split his fat little face wide open. I still remember how it felt like my heart would come out of my chest in the sheer happiness of that second. I can still see his wispy hair flying in the wind. The year was 1990. I could take you to the exact spot on the exact road that this instant in time took place.

I have so much to be thankful for every day. This Thanksgiving though, I am especially thankful for the intangible gifts that are revealed to me, like that car ride eighteen years ago, one crystal-clear moment at a time.

For a sunlit room

For the smell of clean little- girl hair

For the sound of my son's car pulling in the driveway

For the warmth and security of my husband's arm around me as I fall asleep at night

For a friend with whom discussion flows freely about topics like the Bible, parenting, and the potential merits of owning a cow.

For measurable progress in my learn-to-sew mission

For a restful night's sleep

For my first sip of coffee in the morning

For the achingly sweet, wavering voices of a children's choir singing .... "Thank you , oh my Father, for giving us your Son .....

For these precious gifts and those as yet unrevealed, thank you God .

Change Has Come

2008-11-06T22:26:00.006-05:00

...and you'll have to excuse me, but right now I'm pouting because I didn't get to play a part in it.

Yesterday the girls woke up and immediately wanted to know who had won the election. When I told them, they were crestfallen. No, not really, I just like the word "crestfallen", and I never get to use it. But their level of disappointment was pretty high, especially considering neither of them know anything about either candidate.

It was really hard to know what to tell the girls about how I feel about Obama. I wanted to tell them that the reason I didn't vote for him had nothing to do with race .......then I wondered if I should even go there. Because it's highly probable that it never occurred to them that a candidate's race would affect anyone's vote. They, who don't even use the word "black" but instead use innocent descriptors like, .... "you know Kenzie? The girl at church with the brown skin?" They would look at me with confused expressions, and then, realizing I must be joking, they would laugh weakly, not getting the joke.
"Hahaha, nothing to do with race. That's funny. Haha....... but why would you even say that Mommy?"

The truth is girls, I couldn't help it, and you may never understand why. Because even though you are growing up within a literal stone's throw of the place I grew up, the generational distance makes me more southern than you, in the same way it makes your grandparents more southern than me. And maybe because of that, I'm feeling the need to explain myself.

See girls, deep down, I've always wanted to see our country elect a black president. And, considering that it was 100 years after the Civil War before the slow death of segregation even began, I honestly didn't think it would happen in my lifetime. But to the extent that I ever allowed myself to imagine it happening, I saw myself voting for that nameless, faceless individual.

Now we're witnessing the realization of a famous Dream. Only I'm feeling a little like I've been robbed of one. Of course, mine wasn't a dream with a capital D. It didn't stem from the oppression of anyone I personally knew. It was just about recognizing that oppression, and wanting to play a small part in it's demise - to have helped that kind of change to come.

That's what I wanted to tell them.

What I ended up telling them, was that history had been made this election. That for the first time in the history of our country, we have a black president, and that by itself, that fact is an awesome thing because it's really way overdue. And that I really wish I could have voted for him. But that I couldn't do it because I don't share his beliefs about many things ( or was it a few really important ones?) .

I think once I'm over the dissolution of my dream, I'll be more concerned with the kind of political change that has come.

On a lighter note, have you ever wondered how their mother would vote if Obama and McCain were brothers? That question crossed my mind on election night as Sissy and Peanut held their own campaign and election.... for president of their bedroom. They each carried a sign ....ELECT SISSY 2008........... PEANUT FOR PRESIDENT. Then they came to me together and informed me it was time for me to vote.

"I'm supposed to choose between you two?" I asked. It was a no-win situation. I did the only thing I could do. I exercised my constitutional right to withhold my vote. They admitted it was an awkward position for me and said they understood ...... and went off to poll the stuffed animals and baby dolls. I didn't ask how it turned out.

Dear Sweet, Neglected Blog,

2008-10-28T21:02:00.004-04:00

I know it's been weeks since you've heard from me and I'm so very sorry. Please believe me... it's not because my feelings for you have changed.

I've just been busy living ..... homeschooling, learning to sew while teaching the girls how to sew, camping again, hitting library sales and used book stores, housecleaning a little, (cough)turning41(cough), watching the leaves turn beautiful, cheering at soccer games, designing a photobook, and most recently, teaching a class at our homeschool co-op.

So you see my sweet blog, as much as I've wanted to, I simply haven't had an opportunity to write. I've been very productive with my time this month.

What, you don't believe me?

OK, if you must know, I did play a game or two of Spider Solitaire. I allowed myself a few minutes of mind-numbing leisure. Is that a sin, I ask you? Is that a crime? Is that a felony?

Alright, alRIGHT...... maybe it was more than a game or two.

But I NEVER let it get out of control. Really.

But, this is me! You knew I'd be back. You knew I'd eventually have to write about how much fun we had camping, and how the draining of the lake left an otherworldly landscape for us to walk around on, and how we saw dozens of animal tracks, and how I couldn't tell whether Keith or Sissy was prouder that she made the hike up to Molly's Knob, and how we laughed when Peanut said, "Mommy, I hear some happiness, and I think it's coming from that playground!"

And how we didn't want to leave. How we never want to leave. Because when we're camping, we don't have any distractions from each other. We're really together, not just in-the-same-room-together. And leaving means coming home to telephones and computers, and committments, and turning on the TV out of habit, and generally?
Being in the same room, but not so much together.

So anyway, that's a little of what October has looked like for me. I'll be back when I can, but I'm not making any promises I'm not sure I can keep.

We're still OK, right?

your slacker friend,

Nina

A Conversation That Could Have Been Much Shorter, Had I But Known ....

2008-10-07T21:38:00.006-04:00

As we pulled out of the gas station the other night, something in the window of the mini-mart caught Peanut's eye.

She was entranced ....

"The Lottery! Ohhhh, man, I'd just LOVE to play the Lottery!"

ME: (somewhat surprised) You would?

SHE: "Oh yeah, I 'd LOVE to. You can win like, a MILLION DOLLARS!"

ME: (to myself) I'm too tired to discuss the Lottery with a 7 - year old..... maybe she'll drop it...

SHE: " Do you have to be an adult to play the Lottery?"

ME: I believe you do, yes.

SHE: " Darn it, Darn it, DARN it! It's not fair."

ME: (to myself) Come on Sissy, are you asleep back there? How about a little change of topic?

SHE: " Well, the first thing I'm going to do when I'm 18 is play the Lottery! "

SHE: "Have you ever played the Lottery, Mommy?"

ME: No, I haven't.

SHE: "You HAVEN'T?? You have GOT to be kidding me!! Why NOT??"

ME: .....well, because your chances of winning big are like, less than one in a million .....

SHE: "What does that mean?"

ME: (to myself) ....I am sooo tired .

ME: (to Peanut) Just that your chance of winning a million dollars is so tiny, that it's really a waste of money...... it's like buying a ticket to nowhere, really.

ME: (to myself) trying to anticipate her next question..... wondering how I'm going to explain the seductive power of big money, and how people who live in poverty and can barely feed their families, sometimes spend their hard-earned money week after week, on a ticket to nowhere......

"SHE: (interrupting my train of thought)

WHAT!?!? You mean you have to PAY for Lottery tickets???

Well, I'm NEVER going to play the Lottery as long as I live!!

Have You Been Celebrating Banned Book Week?

2008-10-03T22:45:00.008-04:00

The American Library Association designates one week every year "Banned Book Week". The idea is to draw attention to books that have been banned or challenged in public and school libraries over the years, and to encourage people to "celebrate the freedom to read".
I can dig that.

I've seen some of the lists the ALA puts out including the Top 100 Most Challenged Books 1990 - 2000. (The word "banned" is really not accurate, since, thanks to the ALA's clout, very few of these books are actually banned or permanently removed from library shelves.)

My heart is really broken over some things I've learned this week .

To begin with, attempts have been made to remove some great books off the public shelves by some misguided people.

To Kill A Mockingbird for example, was challenged on the grounds that it contained themes of racism. This book, which I read for the first time as an adult, is on the short list of my all - time favorite books. And yeah, there is racism in the book .... because the plot exposes racism. It makes you wonder if the people who challenge some of these books actually read them.

The Diary of Anne Frank , which should be read at least twice in a lifetime - once as a teenager and once as a parent, supposedly is "sexually explicit". I can say with confidence that there is no part of the book that fits that description, and my "inappropriate content antennae " are pretty good, especially when choosing books I want my children to read at some point.

But what causes me even more sadness, is that there are books on the lists that I feel
belong on the lists.

To be specific, sex education should not be taught to a 9 year - old while she's innocently browsing through the children's department of the public library. Yet a quick check on my city library's website shows several books targeted at children, that are listed on Frequently Challenged Book lists because they attempt to do just that..... educate my children without my knowledge or consent, on the topic of human sexuality . What's more, these books will remain on the shelves because the ALA is quick to cry "Censorship!" at the mention of removing them, some of which contain detailed drawings and statements which undermine the values I'm trying to teach my children.

And you know, I'm not even saying I want these books banned per se.
Maybe they have a place in the adult section, so that parents who choose to can use them as a resource when they decide their children should be enlightened about such things.
Maybe they have a place on bookstore shelves.

I'm just saying, as a regular library patron with a couple of kids who are getting this whole Dewey Decimal system thing, and are starting to search for and find their own books and are really stoked about that, that I don't want these books under the noses of my children as they peruse the bookshelves. My children don't want me standing over them as they look for books. They're really proud of being able to use the library independently and my very presence on the same aisle, cuts into that independence. But now, I feel like my hand has been forced because the ALA has decide noone should be denied the opportunity to read whatever junk is being written.

"Free access to everything by everyone, regardless of age" seems to be their slogan.

Even more disturbing is that some of these books line the shelves of the public school libraries, outside the watchful eye of the parent, but within easy reach of our children.

I can't really describe here how I feel toward those who would steal the innocence of my children, and fill their minds with immorality under the cloak of "education".

Going to cool off, now.

Banned Book week ends tomorrow. Go read a book. Go read a banned book, if you want. But for pete's sake, make it a good one.

Of Wildflowers, Beer Bottles, and Unexpected Gifts

2008-09-21T21:28:00.009-04:00

Cooler weather last week made for some good wildflower hunts. We were able to add several species to our list. One walk in particular was so surreally enjoyable and the girls were so interested in every new flower we came across, that for a little while there I felt like Charlotte Mason or Anna Comstock, taking the children on an outdoor excursion in the nearby wood..... all I needed was a British accent and some long skirts to swish in the grass.

We also found a LOT of trash. Walking down a quarter-mile stretch of road near our house, the girls' most frequent comments (or to be more accurate, indignant exclamations) were ...

"Look, there's another beer bottle!" and "Hey, here's another medicine bottle!"

Mine of course, was "DON'T TOUCH THAT!!"

The girls were shocked and disgusted that people would intentionally throw trash out of their vehicles. I was just disgusted. I've been around long enough to know that in East Tennessee any length of fairly isolated road is seen by many as a public dumpster. I had even brought along a garbage bag, having noticed the litter from my car for awhile, and we did collect some trash, but the vast majority was several feet off the road in some pretty snaky looking vegetation.
Now I will admit I have a somewhat hypervigilant snake radar..... I think my yard looks snaky if it hasn't seen a lawnmower in a couple of weeks.... but I wasn't in the mood to conquer any fears that day, so I promised the girls if they would remind me this winter , I'll come back and pick up every piece of trash on that road.

We did see some beautiful wildflowers though. The goldenrod is gorgeous now, and one of my favorite wildflowers, the chicory is still blooming.

While we were walking, the mail lady passed us on her route and we waved. About 10 yards past us she stopped and started slowly backing up. When she reached us, she stopped and held out two pieces of bubblegum.
"For them", she said smiling.
For some reason, this touched me deeply.
Maybe it was because her small act of human kindness was in such contrast to the ugly byproducts of humanity we we had witnessed on our walk. Maybe it was because the girls were starting to get hot and tired and bored, and the offer of bubblegum brought out the life in them again. Maybe the whole thing felt like a public service ad for Little Things That Make A Difference In Your Community.
Whatever the reason, emotion welled up in me until, for a fleeting moment, I wanted to hold hands with the mail lady, and lead us all in a chorus of "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing". Fortunately, I was able to channel that impulse into a more subdued "Thank you SO much! Wasn't that nice, girls?"

Isn't if funny how your perspective can change in the few seconds it takes to hand a kid a piece of bubblegum?

See my analysis of the world at large both before and after our little encounter with the mail lady.

BEFORE: People are low-life scum who knowingly turn the beauty of creation into a steaming heap of filth.

AFTER: People are sweet, generous, smiling, images of God, who are never too busy to slow down and back up for another human being.

Ah yes, children, we have learned much today.... of nature, and that not only, but of man as well.

Can you hear my British accent? ; )

To Everything There Is A Season ....

2008-09-18T22:10:00.004-04:00

...and a time to every purpose under heaven. Ecc. 3:1

The girls and I read "Turn! Turn! Turn!" last week .... you know, the 60's song written by Pete Seeger and performed by the Byrds. Now the words to the song are illustrated in a children's book. It comes with a CD containing the Byrds version and an acoustic version by Seeger.

I've always liked the song, and knew the chorus was taken straight from the KJV Bible, but I guess I never really listened to the whole thing, because I was surprised to learn that practically the entire song is taken from Scripture. With the exception of the recurring phrase "turn, turn, turn" and then at the end of the song, the words "I swear it's not too late", the song is pretty much Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 set to music.

The book is lavishly illustrated, which seems to be a theme for favorite books of mine lately. On every page, the pictures are drawn in sections of a circle. The opposite halves of the circle reflect the opposing themes in the passage, e.g. "a time to laugh, a time to weep", with the illustrations forming a montage of people laughing on one page, and weeping on the next. We looked through the book several times and each time found something we hadn't seen before.

A book that quotes several verses of Scripture, is beautifully illustrated, and is accompanied by music which satisfies my inner hippie...... I really don't think I could ask for anything more :)

The Unofficial 100 Species Challenge

2008-09-13T22:13:00.008-04:00

This year in science we are all about Botany. With that in mind, I've been thinking of keeping a running list of plants the girls and I can identify. After running across the 100 Species Challenge, I have some real motivation now. The idea is to see how many neighborhood plant species you can identify, and keep a running list on your blog. It's a wonderful idea, and we're going to attempt it. We won't be officially participating in the online challenge because I'm too lazy to commit, and because there are rules. We'll just have fun keeping our own list.

What with the hot weather, the girls and I haven't been on a nature walk in a while.
I'm itching to ramble with them again, past the manicured lawns, and around the bend where the woods grow right up to the road. In the meantime, say hello to our first two listings....

1. Virginia Ground Cherry

I found this pretty little flower today growing beneath our mailbox which is across the street on an empty lot.
I got out the field guide and Sissy identified it. The "cherries" grow inside round papery sacs, and are poisonous when green but edible after they ripen.
A very interesting plant considering I'd been practically stepping on it every day and never noticed it before. I'm already liking this challenge. Anything that causes you to slow down and appreciate a small part of God's creation has to be a good thing.

2. Pokeweed
There are several of these growing on the lot across the street. According to the Wildflowers of Tennessee guide, the young leaves are edible after being boiled in two changes of water (are these the poke greens I remember my mother cooking?) but all parts of the mature plant including the delicious-looking berries are poisonous.

Well, it's a start. I'd love to limit the list to wildflowers, but it will include trees and cultivated plants I'm already familiar with in and around our yard. This is in within the rules of the official 100 Species Challenge and it will get our list much further along than wildflowers alone. I still don't see us reaching 100 but that's not as important as having fun naming all the plants in our yard and beyond, and learning some new ones along the way.

Palin Video

2008-09-08T07:05:00.002-04:00

Sarah Palin addresses a group at her former church, Wasilla Assembly of God. A woman with Pentecostal roots for vice-president?! Yeah, baby!

What A Year For American Women in Their 40's!

2008-09-07T21:05:00.005-04:00

First there was Dara Torres, 42 year old Olympic swimmer. I was as proud of her as only a 40 year-old woman can be. She let the world know that you better not write a girl off too soon .... you may end up eating the bubbles in her wake!

Then right on her heels, in an election campaign in which your only choices are Liberal and More Liberal... comes a hero for conservative girls everywhere.

She's smart, she's strong, she's savvy....... and she's a professing Christian.

She's Sarah Palin!

I do like what I know about her, and she delivered a whale of a speech at the Republican National Convention. You can say what you want about McCain, he made a smart move when he picked her as his running mate. She softens his whole image.

And he did look very pleased with himself standing up there with her after her speech. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I saw an old man showing off a trophy wife and wheezing......"Ain't she a looker, boys?"
I know, I know, I'm really sorry but that image wouldn't go away, and I thought of the field day the late night talk-show hosts are going to have with McCain/Palin.....

I can just hear Letterman now:
"And the number one Thing John McCain Has To Say About His New Running Mate is............

'Ain't she a looker, boys??' "

OK, I'm through being mean. I just had to get that out of my system. But she really is attractive, or as Keith so eloquently put it..... "she's not a bad-looking old chick".
Of course, I felt it my duty to remind him that the old chick is three years younger than him.

I do get the uncomfortable feeling that Palin's kid's are going to get the short end of the stick here, but I would love to be proven wrong.

John McCain & Sarah Palin. Things appear to be looking up for conservatives. I just have one question..... can we switch their names on the ballot?

No?

Darn.

Back In The Real World

2008-08-22T23:41:00.009-04:00

At least in the flesh.
My spirit lags behind in a sun-dappled picnic spot near Cades Cove. The afternoon heat is tempered by a soft breeze, resulting in the kind of warmth that just kind of dulls your senses and makes you want to stretch out on the table and go to sleep, which I would do, except that right by our table, a wide place in the creek makes a clear, shallow pool that just begs to be played in. A little while ago we caught a few minnows. Now Sissy is picking up interesting stones to show me. Keith just found a salamander . Peanut is working hard on a rock-and-mud bridge that will span the 10 foot wide creek when finished.
We’ve been here two hours and she’s got 9 1/2 feet to go.
So you see, we can’t possibly leave yet…..

Oh OK, if I have to.
But boy was it a great trip. The weather was perfect. So many new memories….. bike riding with Sissy against the backdrop of the mountains, an outdoor game of Uno with Peanut in the comfortable evening air, a wonderful mid-week visit from Brother and my parents.

The owners of the campground have flowers and plants everywhere. In one flower bed, at any given time we would see several of these beautiful butterflies.

They refused to be still for a photo no matter how sweetly I asked them.

But I was patient, and finally caught one resting ...

On the way home, I tell Keith it’s been one of our best camping trips. He rolls his eyes and tells me I say that about all our trips. I’m not sure this is true, but I'm too tired and content to argue.
Much.

Another Postcard

2008-08-20T22:34:00.003-04:00

I'm having trouble keeping up with the kids. We're having the best time, but I am so dog tired all I want to do is go to bed, so this postcard is headlines only.
Much excitement today .......

Peanut Learned To Ride A Two-Wheeler!!

Sissy Swam Across The Deep End Of The Pool!!

Keith Got Dangerously Friendly With A Skunk!!

Having a great time, wish you were here.

Very sleepily,
Nina

A Postcard From Camp

2008-08-19T22:15:00.003-04:00

Greetings, from Townsend, TN. a quiet little town a mere stone's throw from Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

I just love camping....... outdoor cooking, heating water for dishwashing, checking my e-mail,

What?!?!?!?!

Yes, it's very surreal to be blogging in real-time while camping. But then our kind of camping really isn't camping in its purest form. I type this from the comfort of a king-size sleeping bunk which is illuminated by an overhead light. A huge air-conditioner is roaring full blast. I've just had a long, hot shower. I could microwave myself some hot chocolate if I so desired.

Please don't judge me.

Technically, there's still nothing but canvas between me and the elements. My hot shower was taken only after walking in the dark to the campground bathhouse (it was a short walk, but still)
and I really did cook supper outside on a propane stove and then I really did heat my own water for washing dishes.

Such is the life of pop-up camping. Part creature comforts, part roughing it.

Today is Sissy's 9th birthday, which is largely the reason for my last post.
I think she's had a pretty good birthday. She's been either on her bike or in the pool most of the day. We have to make her come in and eat. The only downer was she had a nasty bike wreck which left her with a bad case of road rash. But after many tears and some band-aids, she was riding again in no time.
Peanut has barked her knees on the pavement too. We're really going through the band-aids here.
They play so much harder and longer here than at home. Then they fall into bed, asleep almost before you can kiss them good night.

It's a good way to vacation.

I wonder if we could fit a hot tub in here.

Sunflower Child

2008-08-17T23:10:00.003-04:00

Sissy stood next to the tallest sunflower while I took her picture. A few weeks ago the stalk barely reached her shoulder. Today, it's a good two feet taller than her.

They grow so fast don't they? So much can happen when you're not paying attention.

You get distracted and look at them without really seeing them for days or sometimes weeks. Then suddenly you realize how much she's grown and you wonder how you could have blinked long enough for this beautiful, gangly, sunkissed girl to shoot up and all you want is for time to STOP because she's changing faster than you can keep up and you haven't memorized her face yet today, and before you know it tears are splashing on the keyboard even as you question why you DO this to yourself.....

sorry, didn't mean to go all emo on you.

Let's just say it's been a good summer for sunflowers. And butterflies.

For Peanut

2008-08-07T22:22:00.006-04:00

gleefully
joyfully
you dance into the room

hands behind your back
and sing
"I've got a surprise for you!"

slowly
dramatically
you present your treasure

carefully wrapped
in notebook paper
and yards of Scotch tape

"Say you’re surprised?
Say you like it?
Say it’s just what you wanted?" *

expectantly
hopefully
you wait for a reaction

giggling
your hands clasped
in breathless excitement

I open it
and try in vain
to match your enthusiasm

and think what a shame it is

that you will never know
because I will never be able
to make you see

how
madly
deeply I love

how
profoundly
eternally thankful I am for

the gift of you

*A.A. Milne

Stimulating Conversation

2008-07-31T22:03:00.002-04:00

Last year the girls discovered the "Junie B. Jones" books.

This summer they graduated to Beverly Cleary and are smitten with sisters Beezus and Ramona. Last library visit, they found "Ramona Forever" on audio CD, and now a new element has been added to their "book discussions". In addition to regaling each other with favorite parts of the story, they've become enamored with the narration style of the reader, who happens to be actress Stockard Channing.

I have listened with them and their fascination escapes me. I don't have anything against Stockard Channing, I just find her voice rather .....unfascinating. But the girls hang on every nuance of every syllable. In fact today's lunchtime was largely spent debating the correct tone and inflection of one word.

Here's how the conversation unfolded:

Peanut: Sissy, wasn't it funny in Ramona Forever when Ramona was at the doctor and the doctor asked her how she felt, and Ramona said, " I feel just awful". I love how she said 'awful'.

Sissy: Yeah, "awful".

Peanut: No, it wasn't like that, it was like (with a little less drawl) ....'AHful'.

Sissy: No, it was like.....(significantly shortens the first syllable) ....'ahful'.

Peanut: "AHful".

Sissy: "ahful".

Peanut: No Sissy, you're not doing it right.

Sissy: Yes I am!

Peanut: "awful"

Sissy: "awful"

They make their voices deeper, then more stuffy then they slightly change the emphasis. They keep going, tweaking the pronunciation with differences too subtle for my unrefined ear to catch.

"Offle". "OFFle". "AUphul. "auphul". "Awful". "Awful". "Awful.
"Awful". "Awful"............................. "Awful"

This is followed by 30 seconds of blessed silence, then ......

Peanut: When Stockard Channing does it she sounds like this......"awful".

Sissy: "awful"

Peanut: I sound just like Stockard Channing......"awful".

Sissy: No, I sound just like her.....listen ......"awful".

Peanut: "awful"

Sissy: "awful"

Peanut: "awful"

Sissy: "awful"

Conversation mercifully turns to another subject for a few minutes, then Peanut takes a bite of her sandwich.

Peanut: Hey, how come this baloney tastes so bad?

Sissy: shrugs her shoulders

Peanut: (taking another bite).....It tastes awful!

Sissy: (in her best Stockard Channing voice).... you mean "awful"!!

They crack up laughing and the remainder of the conversation is filled with phrases like......."Hubbabubba Bubbahubba" and "Glop".

One of these days I swear I'm going to be taken away in a straitjacket.

Summer is Winding Down

2008-07-28T21:31:00.004-04:00

.....or so it feels like.

But the calendar on my wall protests.
"For crying out loud," it says to me...."we're still in the month of JULY!!! What do you mean , 'summer is winding down??' "

But no matter what the calendar says, I know the end of summer is near because the signs are all evident:

The butterflies have become bored and irritable.
The things that make that kind-of buzzy, droning sound in the trees in late summer? Cicadas maybe? Anyway..... they're here.
The crickets are chirping earlier.
The pool toys at Wal-Mart have been replaced by school supplies.
School systems around here get started August 4 which is ohmygosh, next week.

See what I mean? You can't ignore the signs. We'll start our school year next week too. And even though my heart rebels at starting school in early August, my mind knows there is some wisdom in it. Once the idleness of our lazy summer mornings has been replaced by some structured learning, I don't think I'll hear as many sister squabbles or complaints about being bored. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking, but we might as well start when everyone else does. It gives us more freedom to take days off when it's not oppressively hot outside.

The beginning of the school year always feels a little schizophrenic though. The smell of schoolbooks, the sound of the pencil sharpener, the order of the lessons.... together they drum up a cool-weather mindset, especially if you turn up the AC :) Then you go outside after supper and feel slightly off-kilter for a minute, because the evening air lets you know that summer is still here.

Here's to the beginning of the end of summer.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

2008-07-11T22:10:00.006-04:00

"You want to go look at the garden with me?" I ask Sissy.

As usual, she's the last one to leave the supper table - not because she eats all that much, but because she............ eats......so............very.............slowly.

We walk up to check our little vegetable patch. When I say "little" I'm being generous.
When I say "garden" I'm usually talking to one of the girls, because that's what they insist we call it.
What it is, is one okra plant, two each of tomato, bell pepper, and zucchinni, a teeny lettuce bed, and a very few radishes and sunflowers.

We inspect the leaves for insect damage. So far so good on the tomatoes, but the peppers......

I'm amazed at how much I fret over this 6' x 8' patch of ground. Gardening is not a hobby for worriers. Or maybe the opposite is true, and the garden is a worrier's nirvana. There are just so many unknowns, so much potential for failure here.

Some things you find out by simply waiting.

For example:
Is my cucumber dying? Sadly, yes.

What happens when you wait until mid-May to sow lettuce seed?
You get lettuce!

Other answers you find through reading:

Why did my peppers stop producing just as they were getting started?
Apparently peppers don't like nightime temps below 60 or daytime temps over 85.
We've recently experienced both those extremes, which would explain it.

Some questions remain as yet unanswered:
Did I overprune my tomatoes?
Should I use chemical pesticides?

It's not like I have a lot invested in this , or like I can't get fresh produce elsewhere...... but what if I COULDN'T? What if we had to sustain ourselves on what we grow? Could we hack it?
I read of countless garden enemies..... blight, blossom end rot, powdery mildew, aphids, leafhoppers. My head spins.

And yet......

I show Sissy a tomato the size of her thumbnail, still surrounded by the yellow flower petals. Crouched low, our faces almost touch each other as we admire the little green jewel . "Wow", she says softly. "That's so cool Mommy".

And it is. It's incredible, really. God's design for the tomato, unchanged over thousands of years.

If I could visit any place in history, I think I would have to go to Eden and pick some vegetables.
Sissyand I were so in awe of this little green thing that will grow into something we'll want to eat. I wonder if Adam and Eve ever watched a fruit grow with the same delight? Or because they never knew anything else, was gardening just routine for them?

I can't believe it was. I like to imagine them every now and then discovering a baby tomato, and whispering "Wow".

I Love A Parade

2008-07-05T21:44:00.011-04:00

OK, make that "tolerate".
We don't usually do parades, but it was unusually cool yesterday, and I was pestered with that nagging feeling that if we didn't go I would regret it because one day soon, the girls will be too old for parades. So we went, and enjoyed ourselves for the most part. The kid's loved it, and it was easy to get caught up in their excitement for awhile.

But after an hour had gone by with no end in sight, we began watching with a more critical eye. And wondering what the criteria are for being in the parade. Or to be exact, if there actually are any criteria.

It BEGAN like a parade.

There were soldiers, many, many soldiers. Truck after truck of soldiers of all ages. There were veterans including former POW's from WWII and Korea and Vietnam and Desert Storm and the current war (I forget its name). And really, if anybody should be in a Fourth of July parade, its our servicemen and women.

There were marching bands which you really can't have a parade without;

There were cute little girls in tiaras and glittery sashes, waving as they rode in convertibles;

There were a couple of clowns, a LOT of motorcycles, some square dancers, and church choirs;

all in keeping with the spirit of a parade.

But for every half dozen or so legitimate parade floats that went by, there was a vehicle that was apparently there for no other reason than free advertising. It really did appear for a little while, that every business in town saw the parade as an open invitation to roll out their ad-displaying cars, trucks and vans.

I have a tendency to be overly cynical at times, and I try to nip this in the bud when I feel it welling up, but when "Good Old Boy's Tree Service" (yes, that's the real name), paraded it's fleet of not two, not three, but SEVEN trucks by - without so much as a single patriotic streamer flying from the antennae to at least give the pretense of, well, patriotism, I think even my kids wondered what they were doing in the parade.

The kicker is that yesterday evening, after drought conditions for I don't know, forever, we had a major storm which left many downed trees and limbs in its wake. It was absolutely great...... if you happened to own a tree service company. I wonder if it's a coincidence that SEVEN has proven to be the average number of times a person has to see a name before it sticks in his memory.

Really, the timing of the storm was kind of eerie. Kind of makes you wonder if God has a soft spot for "Good Old Boys".

Welcome To My Mid-Life Crisis

2008-06-29T13:37:00.009-04:00

Since turning forty, I've been deeply internalizing the aging process, and my conclusion is this.

Mostly? It stinks.

But it's OK. I've found something that can turn back time's cruel hands. It's safer than plastic surgery, cheaper than a new sports car, and less family-devastating than an old flame; assuming one has an old flame. I married my old flame, so he's also my current flame, and by the way, he's hotter than ever, but even he can't turn back the clock.

But youtube can.

The best thing about youtube is its ability to hit me with a flashback.

I discovered this a year ago when I read somewhere that one could find music videos from the early days of MTV on youtube. MTV was born the year I started high school and I spent many happy, if not completely wholesome hours watching it over the next few years. Then because of the gradual changes in both rock music and my tastes in such, I drifted away from MTV.

Last year though, I went to youtube and with a couple of clicks, was transported back to the early 1980's. They were all there - Loverboy... Def Leppard....Rick Springfield..... people I hadn't thought about in years.

Vintage MTV, some of the clips were called. That's so weird. I don't feel old enough for my generation's music to be called vintage.

Then again it's been 20+ years.
That's so weird.

But youtube took me back even farther.
While meandering down an online rabbit trail last week, I was reunited with "The Electric Company" the children's television show from the '70s. I hadn't seen this show in 30+ years, but elements of it were so deeply embedded in my brain that for the longest time, even as an adult, I couldn't watch Morgan Freeman in a movie without mentally singing .... "Easy Reader, THAT'S my name....".

After I watched the following clip and was able to stop laughing, I used it to prove to my kids that Mommy did in fact, grow up in the coolest decade ever; even if, when viewed retrospectively, her most famous reading teacher looks more like someone children should RUN from than learn from.

Watch and be amused, or perhaps slightly disturbed.

Is that heavy? I mean is that HEAVY?!?

So my mid-life crisis is manifesting itself by calling me back to my childhood through youtube.

It could be worse.

Adrenaline Has Run Rampant Here Lately.....

2008-06-18T06:57:00.007-04:00

but now that the U.S. Open is over, things are getting back to normal.

Oh don't look at me, it wasn't MY adrenaline.
I don't know of anything more boring than watching golf on TV, unless it's actually playing golf, during which you can't really tune out and go to sleep.

The trouble is, nobody here agrees with me. In fact, last weekend I was the only person in this house NOT glued to the TV set during the U.S. Open. I had a nasty cold, and quite frankly the timing couldn't have been more convenient. I went to bed and listened to music while puttering around on the laptop. Periodically, I would hear cheers and moans from the living room. Now I realize that's appropriate football - watching behaviour, but is it really normal to be that into golf?

Keith actually summoned me from my sick bed once.

"Come here, you gotta see this replay!" he said.

So I took my 50-pound head into the living room in time to watch Tiger Woods putt the ball into the hole.

I was dumbfounded. "That's what I came in here for?"

He couldn't believe it didn't knock my socks off.

"Are you kidding? " he said. "That's a 60 - yard putt!"

But I still didn't get it. Not when you put everything into perspective. If, say, I made a 60 - yard putt, now that would be something to get excited about. But we were talking about a guy who plays golf for a living, who has devoted his whole life to perfecting his game, and who by the way, had won this tournament a dozen times or so already. Shouldn't we really be expecting 60 - yard putts from him?

I'll say it if nobody else will ...... If we're going to call this thing a sport, I think we need to raise the bar.

And anyway, why don't these guys have normal names? I mean, Tiger? Rocco? Boo?
What is UP with that?

I did finally get interested when we turned on the TV about 4:00pm Monday afternoon. Apparently the U. S. Open was still going on. The situation had called for a tiebreaker. We started watching at the 18th hole. AGAIN a tie. It was sudden death time. I couldn't believe it. For a few minutes there, I was actually on the edge of my seat watching GOLF.
Never in a million years would I have thought it.

I guess there's a first time for everything.

Summer Reading

2008-06-11T20:56:00.006-04:00

" Mommy, I can't believe Jack came back! " Sissy sighed happily as I kissed her good-night.

I'm reading Little House On the Prairie to the girls. Last night Jack the brindle bulldog was given up for dead after the fording of the rain-swollen creek. We wanted to cry with Laura when she realized her dog was gone. OK I wanted to cry with her. The girls didn't actually take it as hard as I did.

But tonight when a tired and ragged Jack showed up at the campfire, there were gasps of delighted surprise on either side of me. I LOVE it when that happens.

And that Sissy was still talking about it when she went to bed is like the last sip of sugary coffee from the bottom of the cup. Rich, full, and so so sweet.

She's excited that Jack is back.

It's a beautiful thing to watch.

Who Knew History Was So Fascinating?

2008-05-29T21:31:00.010-04:00

We're ending the official school year tomorrow. We've been having so much fun in History though, at times I almost don't want to stop. When that happens however, I just open up a bottle of sunscreen, close my eyes and inhale the aroma of summer. Works every time.

We've been reading about Henry VIII and his six wives. Sissy learned a very short rhyme that tells what happened to each of Henry's queens.....

divorced, beheaded, died,

divorced, beheaded, survived

I'm still not sure in what situation she'll find that knowledge helpful later in life, but it is kind of cute.

And I have to say, it thrills me to have the opportunity to not only teach my daughters about people like Henry the VIII, but to learn along with them. I mean, for most of my life, all I knew about Henry the VIII were the lyrics to a Herman's Hermits song. I'm not proud of it, I'm just sayin....

We read from our History book about Queen Elizabeth I and then Sissy read Good Queen Bess, a biography by Diane Stanley. We've read other biographies by this author and I love them. They have that rare combination of large, beautiful illustrations, AND an abundance of information on the subject.

After that, the girls acted out the coronation of Queen Elizabeth. A friend had just given us some dress-up clothes that include a little-girl sized wedding gown with a long train and lots of lace. They also used some costume jewelry and one of their play tiaras, and the whole effect was quite regal.

We're ending the year on a Shakespearean note.

I checked out a couple of children's versions of Shakespeare plays, and tried one of the tricks I use when I want to get the girls' to read a certain book. I sat down to read "A Midsummer Night's Dream", and made sure I was seen. When I was finished, I left the book lying on the couch and made a casual comment about the good story with fairies in it, and then walked off.... and Sissy took the bait!! And she really liked it!

Our History book contained a very short, very simplified version of Macbeth, and although I'm usually not into witches and the like, when I read the related activity suggestion, I knew we had to do it.

We made "eye-of-newt soup". The girls read the "Double, double, toil and trouble..." poem chanted by the weird sisters in Macbeth, and stirred in the corresponding ingredients, replacing unsavory things like "severed fingers" and "tongue of dog" with Tootsie rolls and red licorice. Chocolate chips served as "eye of newt". They had the best time.

And now, because all good things must come to an end, and more importantly, because Momma needs to rest and recharge, our school year is over.

Yay for summer!

Blogging For a Cause

2008-05-22T21:27:00.009-04:00

It seems there are just not enough hours in the day lately for me to even blog once a week. Life just keeps happening at warp speed. I do blog in my head sometimes..... trying to permanently etch into my memory, the sweetly innocent yet somehow deeply profound comment casually made by Peanut, or the image of Sissy, all arms and legs these days, sitting in assorted, ever-changing angles on her Daddy's lap. A kind-of internal radar goes off in me.... "Remember this", I say to myself. I focus as hard as I can on the details of these precious snapshots in time, and for a little while, I am seduced into believing I'll never forget them. But later when I call on them, the unforgettable moments become the vaporous, elusive details of a dream. What WAS it Peanut said that was so funny and perceptive last week? It was about people called "something"s and how they never "something" as the name would imply. I try in vain. The dissipation of a memory is in progress. In a couple of weeks it will be completely gone.

On a more positive note, I have managed to rescue several endangered memories since I started blogging. My first post, a little over a year ago, captured a small but priceless snippet of a day so uneventful and ordinary, my recollection of it would have faded long ago. But because I wrote about it, I remember it.

I'm reposting it here. It's my new inspiration.

May 9, 2007 -

Today we blew bubbles. The girls had new bubble blowing gizmos that were supposed to make Gigantic Mega Bubbles. Hmmmmm. We must have done something wrong. We had lots of bubbles, some fairly big, just not Gigantic Mega big. But I kept my cynical 'false advertising' rant to myself, and amazingly, the girls were having too much fun to notice that their bubbles did not live up to the promise on the package. Peanut and I sat down in the shade and played catch, blowing bubbles back and forth to each other and catching them with our wands. Or more often, not catching them, and watching them float away on the breeze. Sissy wasn't into it as long, but she hung around with us anyway. It was one of those wonderful 80 degree days in May when you could just stay outside all day. This is the kind of thing I want the girls to remember when they're grown. If I can just not lose sight of that, this summer will be a good one.

And like an unexpected gift, I realize that these words cause me to remember details I didn't even write about. We're not just blowing bubbles. Peanut and I are sitting on the still-soft grass of spring, in the backyard under the silver maple tree. Sissy plays on the swing that hangs from the same tree. The air feels like pure oxygen. It's just that kind of day. Three souls in the world are simultaneously, if temporarily, content.

To remember that afternoon is to retreat to a peaceful haven .

And that is all the reason I need to keep blogging.

Recent Observations of the Otherwise Astute

2008-05-07T20:50:00.003-04:00

1. If, in the interest of both getting your son to work on time and combining trips to town to save gas, you find yourself in the middle of Wal-Mart wearing no make-up and with your hair pulled back in a ponytail – a style which neatly groups together all your gray hairs into obvious STREAKS of gray….. rest assured you will encounter at least three people you know.

2. If this occurs mid-morning on a weekday, and if you take care to let your children wear whatever favorite rag they pulled out of the drawer that morning, AND if you just-this-once-cause-we’re-in-a-hurry trust them to brush their own hair, and then promptly forget to follow-up on that ….. rest assured you will be asked why your kids are not in school.

3. If you want to commit family-time suicide, agree to play a game that both kids insist they know the rules to, but that you personally, have never played in your life. Croquet, perhaps.

4. Sugared pecans are evil.

Recent Observations of the Short and Otherwise Astute

1. Walking up to your sister as she is practicing her Tiger Woods - swing is a bad idea… unless you just WANT a purple beauty mark under your eye.

2. Speaking of bad ideas, here’s another one …. using Mommy’s razor to pretend to shave like Brother.

3. Lips bleed a LOT.

Peanut Cracks an Egg.....

2008-05-02T23:34:00.003-04:00

and something goes horribly wrong.

I saw the whole thing and I still can't explain it.

Sometimes the Wrong Word Can Be Very Appropriate

2008-05-02T23:18:00.004-04:00

Case in point: Sissy had a dental check-up today and she was very nervous. I could sympathize. I always dread going to the dentist too, so I totally knew what she meant when she leaned over to me in the waiting room and said,

" Mommy, my stomach feels kind of SQUEEZY".

I felt for her, but I couldn't help think how her word made complete sense. When you're so nervous about something you're almost sick, 'squeezy' is the perfect way to describe it. And if waiting to get poked in the mouth with sharp instruments isn't enough to make your stomach feel squeezy, I don't know what is.

A Little More Spring

2008-04-27T20:34:00.004-04:00

I've become quite taken with nature photography lately, especially flowers and flowering trees.
I like flowers. They sit still when you take their picture. And they never make funny faces or bunny ears.

However, if I don't remember to take the date stamp off my camera before I take more nature photos, I am going to go into apoplectic fits!

Shades of Spring

2008-04-23T22:21:00.021-04:00

For lo, the winter is past,

the rain is over and gone;

the flowers appear on the earth;

the time of the singing of birds is come,

and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land....

Song of Solomon 2:11-12

Yesterday

2008-04-17T22:29:00.005-04:00

All my troubles seemed so far away
When I listened to my children play

Oh I believe in yesterday

Copacetic. Is that how you spell the word? Is that even the word?

When brightness and clarity are amplified in every otherwise normal, run-of-the-mill thing that happens. When sweetness and love exude from your children, causing you to forget they ever exude anything else. When, after sorting Legos for days, you can see the bottom of the gigantic tub.

Is that copacetic?

Yesterday, Sissy took on multiple digit multiplication . She did not “get it” right away, which is usually a red flag for imminent meltdown. Not so yesterday. Her attitude was wonderful. Bright and shiny all around.

Then I listened as the girls played some kind of pretend adventure in the next room. They were using clothesbaskets as boats and were “sailing” the boats through the house. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it sounded like the waters were treacherous. Then, as they entered the room I was in, Peanut sighed in relief, and said :

“Now we’re in the Pacific Ocean. It’s much calmer here. That’s why we call it the Pacific Ocean. ‘Pacific’ means ‘calm’.

Right on cue, the sky opened up and a host of angels filled the air with song, while we were bathed in warm, radiant light from above.

Okay, maybe that part was only in my head.

But talk about making my heart swell. Nothing is sweeter to a homeschooling mother’s ears than to hear her children incorporate facts they’ve just learned, into their completely unscripted, unsupervised play.

We’re learning about the explorers. Columbus, Vespucci, Magellan. We had read how the Pacific Ocean was named.
It was sinking in !!!

“Hello”, said Captain Peanut, from her boat. “I’m an explorer”.

“Oh, hello”, I greeted her. “So… where are you from?”

“I’m from India”, she said. “I’m looking for a new land.”

Oh dear. The singing angels in my head disappeared.

But I gave her the benefit of the doubt.

In a pretend game, anything can happen.

Indian explorers? Why not? True, they live in the land of the coveted spices, to which for hundreds of years, Europeans have made the long, dangerous journey along the Silk Road. They could keep sitting back and taking it easy. But sometimes, you just get tired of waiting for other people to come to you. I can dig that.

Later the girls played “golf” outside. Sissy was Tiger Woods. Peanut was Zack Johnson. They played this for an hour. Golf. For an hour. Without coming in once or fighting. That’s when the surreal “bright, sunshiny day” feeling surfaced again.

After that, they cheerfully helped me sort Legos.

Then they helped me make barbecued chicken pizza for supper, each making herself an individual pizza. They were so thrilled at taking part in the process, I was struck with pangs of guilt for not getting them in on the cooking more often.

After they went to bed, Keith and I, weeding through some old VHS tapes, ran across an Eagles concert we had taped, oh about ten years ago.

We put it in and jammed just like old times. I sang background vocals. He said I was off-key. I said I was just switching back and forth between Henley’s part and Frey’s. He said, Oh is THAT what you’re doing. Just like old times.

You know, I wish God would grant me the power to adjust the speed of the earth’s rotation whenever I want. I wouldn’t abuse it, really I wouldn’t.

I would just slow it down for days like yesterday.

A Roundabout Way to an Old Poem

2008-04-14T20:41:00.008-04:00

I read somewhere recently that April is National Poetry Month.

This would be a perfect time to post a heart-tugging poem about Peanut and all that she is.

The thing is, I still haven't gotten around to writing it.

Oh, I will. I wrote a poem for Sissy on her last birthday, and we try to divvy up the butterfly accolades right down the middle around here.

And lest we slip up, the ever-so-helpful Grandmother Butterfly is quick to remind us:

"Nina, I don't know if you're aware of this, but awhile back, you posted that Peanut scored 6 points in one of her ballgames. But you didn't write about Sissy scoring 10 points in her last game! That was her best game of the season! I know things were crazy the following week and you didn't get a chance to blog any, but you really need to go back and fix that."

Sometimes, I think if I have to give them exactly equal portions of one. more. thing, that my head will open up, and my brain will just, very neatly , separate along the midline, and both overloaded hemispheres will tumble onto the floor in quivering blobs of protest. One for each girl.

But, I'm going to risk it right now, because I'm just that crazy. And my mother is right. It was absolutely her best game. So here goes.

On March 1, 2008, Sissy played her heart out, got a couple of lucky breaks, and ended the season with a point total in double digits for the first time ever. She has since decided she wants to be a Lady Vol when she grows up. THEN she'll be an astronaut.

So, yeah, I'll eventually get around to writing Peanut's poem. But just in case I don't get it done in April, I'll celebrate National Poetry Month now, by reaching way, waaaay back.

Ah, yes. Here it is. One of my best works. Third grade, I believe. Or maybe it was fifth.

Anyway. Ahem.

Spring

Spring is here

Bees are buzzing

Wooly worms are just fuzzy-wuzzing

Flowers blooming

Leaves turning green

And the prettiest redbuds you've ever seen

Goodbye snow and ice

I need you no more

Springtime just now knocked at the door

You know, I just realized, spring isn't really wooly-worm season is it? Oh well, I was eight. Or so.

Sissy Goes To Standardized Testing .....

2008-04-08T21:52:00.003-04:00

..... and emerges relatively unscathed.

I was so worried for her.

I wasn’t worried that she wouldn’t score high. Standardized tests are not the be-all end-all benchmark for mastery of knowledge on a given topic. I know that Sissy’s test results may show weakness in some areas. In fact, I’d be surprised if she didn’t score a little lower than average in science and social studies. Because the curriculum we use for those subjects covers material in a different order than most public and private schools, I’m sure she was tested on some things we hadn’t covered at all. And I’m OK with that.

But I wasn’t sure SHE would be OK with that. She thinks she should know the answer to everything, sometimes even before it’s taught to her. She doesn’t like not knowing the answer. It makes her very uncomfortable. And she freaks out when she’s being timed, at least at home. So I really didn’t know how she would handle the whole testing thing.

And it cut me like a knife, to think of her sitting there, staring at her test with panic in her eyes, and knowing, just KNOWING that something terrible would happen if she shaded in the wrong circle, and HYPERVENTILATING at the thought of second after precious second ticking unmercifully by. And I knew she would do that, I just KNEW it, because I KNOW her better than I know MYSELF, because I bore her from my LOINS........ because we’re flesh and BLOOD, body and SOUL, and well… she gets the whole tendency-to-overdramatize-everything from me.
Obviously.

So I psyched her up on the way to the test site. “You’ll do fine,” I said. “But, you should know there will probably be some stuff on these tests that you don’t know. Maybe stuff we haven’t even learned about. And that’s OK. Don’t panic. Just make your best guess”.

“OK”, she chirped, a little nervously.

And when I picked her after the first day of testing…. She was smiling!

She said it wasn’t bad! She even said it was kind-of fun!

Being awash in relief is the sweetest feeling in the world.

It was short-lived though.

“But Mommy, I was supposed to bring a SNACK”, she said reproachfully.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey. They told me you COULD bring a snack, they didn’t say you HAD to bring one, and you had a really good breakfast, and testing was only two hours long and….. did everybody else in your testing class have a snack?”

“Yes”…. ( and now, I’m suffering self-inflicted wounds again, picturing her alone and snackless in a room full of eating children) ….. “But two other girls shared theirs with me. They were nice. Hey Mommy, what’s your favorite part of the water cycle? Mine’s precipitation.”

And just like that, it was forgotten.

Relief again.

Thank you, sweet, generous girls, whoever you are.

For the Record

2008-04-07T22:10:00.002-04:00

I'm not happy with the way my last post turned out, technically speaking.

The thing is, I've been getting bumped off the Internet a LOT lately, and I spent so much time trying to re-edit my post, and then getting booted off before my re-edits took effect, I was practically reduced to tears before it was over. So, I finally gave up on "fixing" the post.

Just know that in my heart, it's a much shorter post. And all the phrases containing the words "believe" or "faith" are underlined. In bold font. And the title more accurately reflects the content.....e.g. "What Baptism Does NOT Mean".

There, I feel better.

On The Meaning Of Baptism

2008-03-31T07:36:00.006-04:00

“But we’re all one in Christ Jesus, right? You baptize your way, we baptize His way....” - Baptist Preacher Tony Campolo to a United Methodist Assembly

Funny, isn’t it? OK, maybe that depends on your perspective.

I live in the same small community I grew up in. It’s a suburban, almost rural, church-on-every-corner kind of community. One of my best friends was Pentecostal. I also had Presbyterian and Freewill Baptist friends.

Looking back I’m amazed that given the amount of time we spent together at school, we didn’t talk more about the differences in our beliefs. Then again, we were kids. Why would it have come up? We were too busy talking about other stuff. I don’t even recall asking my Pentecostal friend why she always wore dresses. Maybe I wondered sometimes, but when we were together it was a non-issue.

All I knew about the other denominations in our community, was caught in bits & pieces from overheard adult conversations.

“Freewill Baptists believe you can lose your salvation”.
“Presbyterians baptize babies.”
“Pentecostals believe women and girls should wear only dresses and grow their hair long”.

And for some reason, it never occurred to me to ask…..

Why DO they believe you can fall from grace?
Why DO they baptize babies?
Why DO they believe women shouldn’t wear pants?

And if we’re all reading the same Bible…… why don’t WE believe those things?

It never once occurred to me to ask.

Then, as I grew into adulthood, I would occasionally think about other Christian faiths and what little I knew about them.
I knew there must be some reason other denominations believe differently than us about this thing or the other. And I had the nagging feeling that maybe it was a little presumptuous of me to just blindly believe Southern Baptists are the only ones who have it right.
But that’s really as far as it ever went.

Until last week, when I was reading a book on church history. I was supplementing my reading with internet research when I wanted more detailed information than the book gave. Consequently I wound up dizzy and confused from chasing my tail around in circles, forgetting which article I had read where, until I arrived at the erroneous conclusion that practically all Christians except Baptists recognize the ordinance of baptism as an essential part of the salvation of the sinner, with some faiths believing that repentance should come first, but that baptism is still a non-negotiable part of the deal.

Like all good Baptists, I’ve always believed that baptism is not necessary for the remission of sins. Baptism, I’ve always been taught, is an act of obedience by the believer, for whom salvation has already been given by God’s grace through faith in his son Jesus.
I even know Scripture passages that confirm it.

But I had never been put in the position of defending that belief, until I read Scripture quoted by those who believe baptism is necessary for salvation.

Mark 16:16 and Acts 2:38 were the most frequently cited passages by those who support “baptismal regeneration” … the washing away of sins through baptism.

Mark 16:16 - He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.

Baptismal regeneration believers say that because the Jesus says “believeth and is baptized”, both are necessary for salvation.
This doesn’t explain, however, why the second part of the verse doesn’t include those who’ve believed but haven’t been baptized in the damned. It says only those who “believeth not shall be damned”.

Acts 2:38 – Then Peter said unto them, Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.

This verse would also seem to suggest that both repentance and baptism are necessary for the remission of sins.

There are so many debates out there about this. One has to do with the translation from Greek of pivotal words like “for”, which could also be interpreted to mean – “because of”.

Really, I could spend weeks reading different arguments for the interpretations of those verses, by those who support the idea of baptismal regeneration, and by those who reject it.

And the truth would still be this.

I don’t know what Peter meant.

And I don’t know why Jesus said “he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved”.

Here’s what I do know.

The following passages speak clearly about salvation, and not one of them mentions baptism.

John 3
16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish but have everlasting life 17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world ;but that the world through him might be saved.
18 He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.

Acts 16: 30-31 Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved , and thy house.

Romans Chapter 3
22.Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe : for there is no difference:
23.For all have sinned , and come short of the glory of God;
24.Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus:
25.Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past , through the forbearance of God;
26.To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness: that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.
27.Where is boasting then? It is excluded . By what law? of works? Nay: but by the law of faith.
28Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law.

Romans 4
(In this chapter, Paul speaks about Abraham, and how Abraham’s faith was apart from works, circumcision, and the law. The chapter ends with Paul proclaiming the same righteousness that was given to Abraham, as available to all those who believe. In the interest of space I pulled out the most pertinent verses regarding faith and the New Testament believer).

4 Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. 5 But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness

20 He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God; 21 And being fully persuaded that, what he had promised, he was able also to perform. 22 And therefore it was imputed to him for righteousness. 23 Now it was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him; 24 But for us also, to whom it shall be imputed , if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; 25 Who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification.

Romans 5

1 Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: 2 By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand , and rejoice in hope of the glory of God

Romans 10
9.
That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved .
10.
For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.
11.
For the scripture saith , Whosoever believeth on him shall not be ashamed .
12.
For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him.
13.
For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

Ephesians 2:8 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.

When I first started looking for the “faith-alone” verses that I knew were there, I couldn’t believe how easily I had become confused.

Now, several days later, I know it was a good thing that I got confused. Confusion sent me searching Scripture. It made me read passages I had been familiar with for years, with a more critical eye.
I came away refreshed in the Word, and more confident than ever that baptism is in no way whatsoever, necessary for the remission of sins.

So what does any of this have to do with Pentecostals, Presbyterians, or Freewheelers?

Nothing. It’s just that all this interdenominational research had me remembering good times with old friends who were my first exposure, even though I barely knew it, to Christianity outside my Southern Baptist world.

And I miss them.
But that’s another post.

Join me next week when I discuss predestination!

Kidding. I am SOOOO kidding.

A Preview of Posts to Come

2008-03-24T21:13:00.003-04:00

When I was thinking of what to post today, I realized I have plenty of topics, but they're all so incomplete and unrelated and they're swirling through my head and bumping into each other so much that I don't think I could make a complete, coherent post out of any one of them.

So I just made some previews...... topics that have been on my mind that hopefully will turn up here in full-length form soon.

And now..... coming soon to a blog near you......

Hypocrisy 101 - a satire on the way Protestants like me vehemently reject the adoration of the saints, while simultaneously praying to their own conveniently-accessed-online modern -day saints. Instead of asking God for wisdom on a matter, for example, we seek the counsel of St. James (Dobson), the patron saint of parents, or St. Beth (Moore), the patron saint of women.

Ode to Peanut - a birthday poem to a 7 year old, as yet unwritten on account of the previously mentioned fragmented-thought soup going on in my head

Dutch Girls, Crowns, and Cascades - the fun I'm having learning to do fancy braids on the girls...... pics included!

Sissy Goes to Standardized Testing Will she remember her #2 pencils? Will she be emotionally scarred for life because her mother forgot to send a snack with her and EVERYONE ELSE'S mother remembered?

Dizzying Decisions a homeschool Mom faces a dilemma she never thought she'd have.....
too many choices for outside enrichment classes next school year.

Denominational Crisis a Baptist does some deep reading (a reckless idea), and finds her beliefs have been challenged regarding ...umm.... baptism. Does she really know why she believes what she's always believed? ...... and more importantly, does Scripture support her beliefs?

See you next week. Bring some popcorn.

The Value Of A Good Book is Far Above Rubies.....

2008-03-17T12:49:00.004-04:00

.....no wait, that's a virtuous woman. Isn't there a proverb about good books? There should be. :)

I love it when I find a book that's written at exactly the level we need, and it turns out to be beautifully illustrated. Or maybe it's the other way around.

When I'm browsing at the library, an attractive cover and pictures get my attention much faster than the text. That's what happened when I checked out this book about St. Patrick.

The pictures were what made me bring it home. The text however, was wonderfully appropriate for me to read aloud to Sissy and Peanut. Actually, Sissy could have read it by herself with no problem, but I wanted to read it with them.

I read it myself yesterday to get an idea of the content. Not being Catholic, I wasn't sure what kind of theology it would contain. Again, it was exactly right. The story of Saint Patrick is very simply told, using one of St. Patrick's letters to the world as the author's reference. The legends are left out, although they are included in an author's note at the end.

The illustrations are so lovely they're almost distracting. And it was kind of a letdown when I found out by googling, that they're computer-generated. Still, we had a very nice time pointing out the many colorful patterns used on each page.

So many times, I get historical books at the library because they're on a book list I have. I don't have time to wade through all the books there, and I trust my list to recommend the best ones.

Every now and then though, a book that just catches my eye turns out to be a pleasant surprise. This was one of those books.

Tag - I'm It

2008-03-10T22:58:00.002-04:00

See, I didn't even last an hour. No really, I forgot about a little blogkeeping I needed to do before I lock up for the week.

Linda at Thoughts of the Heart, recently tagged me to post "7 Things About Me". Now ordinarily, I don't do tags -- I just don't have the time it takes to participate in most of them. But "7 Things About Me" - that's a nice, doable list. Except that I've already attempted 100 Things About Me. Sadly, I found out there are only 75 things about me... and I posted them all already. If you haven't seen them and you're so inclined, click on my link on the right... 100 Things About Me - An Incomplete Work. Read the first seven. That way I'll have participated in this Tag Game. Only I'm not tagging anybody. Does that mean I'm eternally It?

Seasonal Changes

2008-03-10T22:20:00.004-04:00

Spring is almost here! Grass is just starting to get a little greener, some trees are budding, the ground feels like it's thawing under your feet, and although I've always been more of an Autumn lover, I love to watch the earth wake up from Winter.
I know it will be a long time before we have consistently warm temperatures. East Tennessee will see several more "cold spells" before warm weather is here for good. But we can see it coming, and that's enough for now.

Another change is taking place around here. My blogging has been less frequent lately for a few reasons.... the main one being that life doesn't come with a pause button. And as I look at the weeks ahead, I'm reminded that Peanut has a birthday, Easter is just around the corner, and I've got to get the girls caught up on History in what's left of the school year. Also, my house is in desperate need of a purging.
Not to mention that when it starts to get warm, but is not yet really hot, we like to spend quite a bit of time outside.

I say all that to lead up to this: My posts are going to be intentionally more spaced out for awhile. My plan for the time being is to make one weekly post, most likely on Monday, but that could change. Actually, the whole "intentionally spaced out posting" could go belly up if the butterflies give me a run of good material. I like to write about things while they're fresh in my mind, which usually gives me less than 24 hours.

So I'm going weekly. Or something like that. But don't hold me to it. Self-governance has never been one of my strengths. :)

Vacation

2008-03-08T21:20:00.008-05:00

We just got back from three luxurious days in a cabin in the mountains. For the last few years we've managed to get away around this same week in March. We always look forward to it because it comes on the heels of the busiest time of the year for us - Upward Basketball season.

We rent a cabin near Pigeon Forge, pack a few clothes, stop at a grocery store on the way to stock up on supplies, and then once we're at the cabin, we pretty much stay put. We may make a run to the store for something we forgot (this time it was charcoal), or to rent movies, but that's it.

This particular place had a videogame system. We don't have one at home, so the girls had a good time playing Frogger and Disney Golf. There was also a very nice wide wrap-around porch, which we made good use of on Thursday. It was warm and sunny, and we spent most of the afternoon on the porch playing, coloring, reading,
and just generally doing nothing.

Like most rental cabins in the Smokies, this one had a fireplace and a hot tub. I've always loved the way a fireplace can instantly make a room warm and cheerful, and I love soaking in a hot tub with a good book, but I've come to realize that neither of those things are what I love most about our little getaway places.

We've rented vacation houses several times over the years at the mountains and the beach, and the thing I love most about these places is the lack of clutter that insidiously creeps up on you at home. The stack of newspapers, the junk mail, the important mail, the zillion and one toys, and even more clothes, and all the little things that lay claim to empty horizontal space in your home -- you don't find that stuff in vacation homes.

When you walk in, what you see is what you get . You don't find stuff hidden in overfilled closets, drawers, and cabinets.

On the down side, you don't find a wide variety of cookware either... like muffin pans, for example. But hey, in the name of keeping clutter down, it's worth not having muffin pans. So you add a little more milk and make chocolate chip pancakes instead of muffins. No big deal.

Free open space. That is such a luxury for me. Hot tubs and fireplaces are just gravy.

Irrational Butterflies

2008-02-25T21:08:00.003-05:00

I don't know what's wrong with Peanut. She's usually very easygoing. She loves to sing, and forever singing songs around the house, some she knows, some she makes up herself, and some, a combination of the two. Sometimes she'll sing her way through conversations, or ask me to listen to her sing a song, but mostly her singing seems to happen naturally and mindlessly, while she's playing with her dolls or coloring -- like she's not even really aware that she's singing.

Sissy loves to sing too, but has never done so to the same degree as her sister. However, in the last few months she has learned some songs in Spanish, and she's been singing those songs around here quite a bit. Maybe she gets a kick out of hearing herself sing another language. In any case, lately we've been hearing a lot more singing from Sissy than usual.

Here's where it gets ugly.
Peanut hates to hear Sissy sing. Almost every time Sissy starts to sing, Peanut tells her to stop.

"It BOTHERS me", she says.

The first couple of times this happened, I was amused.

"You've got to be kidding me, " I told her. "You sing ALL the time. Why shouldn't Sissy be able to sing?"

"It just BOTHERS me!" she whined.

And that has become her chant of protest.

"It BOTHERS me!"

It's the closest thing to an explanation she can give, for why she doesn't want Sissy to sing.

Until tonight, when Sissy could be heard happily singing in the bathtub.

"Solamente en Cristo.....solamente en el" ......

Peanut dragged herself to the living room whining -- again with the whining .....

"I don't like it when Sissy sings, Mommy. It IGNORES me!"

Maybe she had protested so many times she was boring herself silly with the same line, so she used a word she thought meant the same thing. And although I'm pretty sure the word she was going for was "annoys", I have to wonder if the word she actually used, hit the nail square on the head.

Sissy's singing IGNORES Peanut. Nothing get's Peanut's goat like being ignored.

So there we have it.

Of course, I don't make Sissy stop singing. I tell Peanut that she just has to deal with it, that she's not the only person in the house allowed to sing. She's usually so lightning-quick at perceiving domestic injustices that I don't know why she can't see how unreasonable she's being.

Still, she protests.

And it really BOTHERS me.

Writer's Block / Reading Blitz

2008-02-22T21:54:00.003-05:00

I'm finding myself at an unfamiliar loss for words lately, at least in the written form.

It's not that I have nothing to write about. It's just that writing a post that I'm happy with takes an agonizing amount of time, even for the shortest of entries.

I think it's because I don't speak, or even think in the same language I write. Yeah, it's all English. But it's different. I have to take the thoughts in my head and translate them to a more polished, less bumpkin English before my tapping fingers throw them out for all the world to see.
And I'm not a quick translator. This paragraph alone has taken me 15 minutes.

And I'm getting irritated that I'm spending time away from my book.

Oh, my book. I'm reading Vienna Prelude by Bodie Thoene, a Christian historical fiction writer who my aforementioned friend Linda told me about.

I don't know how long it's been since I read fiction that wasn't children's literature. I really don't have time to be doing it now, but it is an indulgence I am loving. I'm totally taken with pre - World War II Germany and Austria and a young half Jewish violinist whose family is caught up in one terrible unfolding event after another.

I used to read for pleasure so much more. The last several years, so much of my reading is homeschool related, I had forgotten what it was like.

I curled up on the couch today with my book and a blanket, and a cup of Russian tea, just like old times. I almost forgot I even HAVE a computer. Though this particular book and I had never met before today, it was a sweet and nostalgic reunion. And the best part is, it's not over.

I'm only halfway through the book!

Full Moon Fever

2008-02-20T22:18:00.008-05:00

We got to see the "mooner" eclipse! We're not calling it that anymore though. Peanut knows now that her terminology was slightly off, thanks to everybody laughing and correcting her. It makes me a little sad. Like when she stopped saying "callapidder" instead of "caterpillar".

Anyway -- the eclipse! It was SO cool. We didn't think we would see any of it because it's so cloudy here, but these clouds moved fast and were full of holes so we pretty much saw the whole thing. We popped popcorn and turned out the lights and watched the moon disappear in front of our eyes. When it was completely covered with Earth's shadow, it was dark orange. By that time it was so high in the sky we had to go out on the front porch to see it. It's supposed to be in total eclipse until 10:50 and then will start coming out of Earth's shadow. We've seen enough though. It's cold outside and we're kind of wimpy.

There are not many things that will grab and keep the attention of our entire family. This was one. Brother and the girls kept passing the binoculars back and forth.

This was way better than getting up at 4:00am to watch a meteor shower in August. I didn't write a post about that because there was almost nothing to write about. You keep your eyes glued to the sky and propped open (at 4:00am remember), and if you're lucky you MIGHT see a small flash of light streak across the sky. Sit there 20 more minutes just like that and you might see another one.

I'll take a total mooner eclipse over that any day.

Random Acts

2008-02-19T22:01:00.003-05:00

Saturday Peanut scored 6 points in the first 5 minutes of her basketball game, prompting her to wonder aloud if she had magic powers. So it was probably a good thing that she didn't hit ANY of the other 15 or so shots she put up. Superheros can be so hard to live with.

Sissy played a great game too, scoring 2 buckets and playing impressive defense against a girl who's a head and shoulders taller than her.

Sunday The girls take turns helping me in the nursery at church when it's my Sunday to stay. It was Peanut's turn this time. We stayed with the 3 year-olds and she had so much fun. She played and played with the kids, and when church was over and the parents came down, the kids didn't want to leave until Peanut finished the book she was reading to them.

Monday We played with Sculpey clay and baked our creations. Also, I continued an effort I started (again) last week in getting the girls to help more with the housework. Today Sissy vacuumed and took the trash can to the road. Peanut dusted and cleaned some glass.

Tuesday Peanut cleaned the toilet bowls and Sissy cleared and wiped the breakfast table and swept under the table, after which she ASKED to dust the furniture. Peanut had done a less than stellar job at this yesterday, so I told Sissy to dust away. Tonight while Peanut was at basketball practice, Sissy and I stayed home and got out her sewing machine she got for Christmas. She just made some practice stitches on scrap fabric, but she had fun with it. Maybe eventually we'll actually make something.

It's so nice to have some time with just one of the girls. I need to make it a regular thing with both of them. For a couple of weeks I've been staying home with one girl while the other one is at basketball practice. Last Tuesday night Sissy and I worked on her Valentine to Peanut- (which turned out way cool, incidentally). Thursday while Sissy was at practice, Peanut and I played the game "Guess Where?".

And on a completely unrelated note, Peanut tells me that tomorrow night there's a "mooner eclipse". That should be fun to watch!

Name Dropping

2008-02-16T19:59:00.005-05:00

I have a dear real-life friend who just started a blog called Thoughts of the Heart.

Linda is a Christian homeschooling mother of 5, and one of my favorite people to talk to. We've had some wonderful telephone conversations about Christianity . We've talked at length about doctrines & denominations, or what God's Word says concerning this or that -- usually to the background music of her sweet little ones.

When Linda told me she had started a blog, I knew the Lord would use her to bless others, and she's off to a great start.

So drop by and visit her at Thoughts of the Heart. Remember when you first started blogging, and make her day by leaving her a welcome comment!

The Unfathomable

2008-02-15T21:41:00.006-05:00

"40 ??? " Peanut was incredulous.

" WOW! It seems like it should be a whole lot more - like, I don't know, a hundred and forty, or something. "

Going somewhere else in her mind now, her voice drifts into a singsong cadence,

......" 40 days and 40 nights, 40 days and 40 nights ".....

then suddenly, she's back, with the scream of slamming brakes .......

......"but 40 YEARS?!? ......... Man!!!"

That was Peanut's exact response to the answer I gave her when she asked me how many years it had been since I was born.

I wanted to be offended. I really tried to be offended. But it's a hard thing to pull off when you can't stop laughing.

What is Love?

2008-02-14T05:35:00.002-05:00

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.... 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

Around here, love is everything Mommy hasn't been lately.

Today, in a departure from my last few posts, I'm digging a little deep. The Scripture passage above is one of my favorites. It's hard for me to read because with each characteristic of love given, I see how far I fall short of the Biblical mark. It's almost like taking several dinstinct and deliberate punches. But the thing is, I need to be shown my weaknesses. I need to feel the sting of remorse and repentance, so that I can then feel the sweetness of God's mercy. And the process needs to happen over and over again.

Because as difficult as it is to have my eyes opened to how impatient, envious, and self-seeking I am, wouldn't it be terrible if I felt nothing when I read these words? Or even worse, if I felt good about myself after reading them? If I actually thought they describe me? Can't God do more with a heart that feels pain when He pricks it, than with a Teflon heart full of smug self-righteousness? Or is my line of thinking self-righteous in itself?.....as in " Look at me, I'm so tender-hearted, so contrite, so easily convicted of my wrongdoing, God must be pleased with me".

I don't know. I just know a mother who writes cute little blog descriptions about correcting children gently, and letting them be carefree and curious while they're young, should be a walking poster girl for 1 Corinthians 13. And she may do an OK job fooling everybody else, but she doesn't fool God. Yesterday when she began reading aloud the words "Love is patient, love is kind......", she was more conscious than ever of the two small souls next to her , depending on her to not only teach them, but to show them what love is …. and she had the uncomfortable feeling she wasn’t fooling them either.

But she is deeply thankful she has a God who corrects her gently, who repeatedly makes her aware of her weaknesses, but always reminds her that there is hope for her. And while love is the big idea here, for those of us who are less than perfect, hope is also pretty great.

Welcome to Wonderland

2008-02-12T21:57:00.006-05:00

I sometimes feel like I fell down a rabbit-hole and landed in this house, where children spawned from the union of Logic and Madness continually charm, and yet perplex me.

Here’s a quiz, inspired by just a couple of events that transpired around here today.
It’s very short, really. Pass or Fail.

1. “This is SO MUCH FUN !!!!!!!! “ Peanut said over and over this morning, unable to contain her joy as she:

a. crafted homemade Valentines using glitter and lots of girlie stickers

b. pretended to camp out using a sheet and the kitchen table for a tent

c. scrubbed the toilet bowl

2. Sissy is smiling so hard her face could split open, she’s pumping a fist in the air, and chanting, “Yessssssss!” All this because I have just given her permission to:

a. see the Hannah Montana movie

b. have a cell phone

c. lug a smelly trash can as tall as herself from the road to the backyard.

3. Sissy is eating a mint. “Whoa!”, she says. “I almost swallowed it whole”.
Peanut responds by exclaiming:

a. Good thing you didn’t get choked, Sissy!

b. Well, at least your STOMACH would have had great breath. HAHAHA!!!

c. Wow, that would have been bad for your cholesterol!

Ready for the answers?

1. C
Remember, this is Wonderland. Left is right. Up is down. And Peanut LOVES cleaning the toilet - but I'm not complaining. If you guessed A or B, you're only wrong because neither of them happened TODAY.

2. C

Curiouser and curiouser. Here we see the same irrational response. Grungy, menial chore is met with excitement and glee. The excitement is not transferrable to most other household chores though. That would only enable me to make sense of, and even predict their behaviour, and what fun would that be? If you guessed A or B, you're only wrong because I still have breath.

3. C

I don't have an explanation, illogical or otherwise for this one. But if you guessed A or B, you're only wrong, because she wasn't in the right mood.

It seems that at least once a day, I realize again that , as the Cheshire cat said..."We're all mad here". Now I'm terribly sleepy and unable to keep my eyelids open. I must go to bed now, so that I can lie awake and stare at the ceiling.

Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!

A Little Seventies Nostalgia

2008-02-10T21:37:00.000-05:00

I loved Schoolhouse Rock cartoons when I was a kid. Who didn't? Even my mother couldn't complain - it was educational. I still know every word of the Preamble to the Constitution..I just have to hum it in my head before I recite it.

Last year I bought the entire Schoolhouse Rock song collection on DVD. I think the girls love them as much as I did. I use them in school sometimes, especially the grammar ones, but mostly we watch them for fun.

My favorites are the ones sung by the Conjunction Junction guy. That guy has the richest voice. He also sings "I'm Just A Bill" , "Rufus Xavier Sarsparilla" , "Energy Blues", and my personal favorite, "The Tale of Mr. Morton", featured below. Give it a listen. Dig the trumpets. Get lost in the jazzy voice - go ahead, it's easy. Hear it soar in the chorus and if it doesn't make you smile, you're a lost cause. Enjoy!

Funny Butterflies

2008-02-08T21:47:00.000-05:00

As I recently commented, my kids' attempts at humor are usually corny, slapstick, Looney Toons type jokes that make me wish for a cane to appear and pull them offstage.

Ironically, when they're not campaigning for laughs, when they're just being themselves without trying to be funny..... that's when they make me laugh the most.

To illustrate my point, I give you two recent vignettes from our home.

Vignette #1

Sissy: Mommy, when I grow up, do I have to be a lady ? I mean like, wear make-up and stuff?

Me (ignoring the impulse to more clearly define "lady' and opting for the short answer) :

No, you don't ever have to wear makeup.

Sissy: Oh, good....... because I really want to be an astronaut.

???

Who knew wearing make-up and being an astronaut were mutually exclusive??

And we call ourselves liberated, ladies?

Vignette #2

Sissy, recently sick with a fever of 101, cracks a joke that she is extremely proud of, but that nobody else gets.

"You're delirious," I tell her.

"Umm, I think you mean hilarious," she kindly corrects me.

She really thinks I used the wrong word - and there it is. In that moment, she is indeed, obliviously hilarious.

Me And the Band: A Road Story

2008-02-07T14:10:00.000-05:00

So it's the last song of the show right? We sound better than ever tonight. Me and the band, we know each other so well, we're in such a harmonious groove, we don't think at all, we just play, we just feel it man.

So after the second chorus, I step out to do my solo, the part my fingers have been itching to do all night. They attack the strings of my Les Paul Epiphone like they have a life all their own, like if I could detach myself from my hands and walk away, they would still know what to do, because it's all they were meant to do.

I recently learned a new slide technique and when I try it out the crowd goes insane. The energy in the place is palpable, the freakin ROOF is threatening to come off, and at the peak of my solo, just for a moment, the essence of time itself seems suspended in mid-air.

Then, in the distance , I hear somebody scream ---

"That was FUN Mommy, let's do it again!"

I shake my head to get some focus and slowly look around. I'm in our playroom. They've done it to me again.

"We're SUPPOSED to be picking up TOYS!" I yell, waving the Fisher-Price electric guitar around my head menacingly and chasing them around the room. They run away, shrieking with giddy little-girl laughter.

It is the most beautiful music in the world.

The Lost Art of Lingering

2008-02-05T22:23:00.000-05:00

One evening last week, my husband needed to meet with someone at our house. Because the courteous and professional nature of the meeting clashed with the loud and boisterous nature of our daughters, Keith and I decided beforehand that the girls and I would take off.

It was very strange to find myself the owner of a chunk of time to kill. There’s always somewhere we have to be, always a deadline, and we’re always running five minutes late. Most of the time I remind myself of Seargent Carter on the old TV show Gomer Pyle, always yelling “Move it! Move it! Move it!"

This evening though, I found myself moving at a much more relaxed pace. We spent an hour at the library, and could easily have stayed twice as long but had to leave because they were closing. Our library has terrible hours - they close at 5:30 on Fridays and Saturdays and aren't open at all on Sundays.

Then we went out to eat. Absurdly, we ate fast food, even though we really had time for a better meal . I actually caught myself almost telling the girls to hurry and finish their food. (I'm always the first one finished). But then I realized there was no reason they should be in a hurry, which caused me to wonder -- is this how it is every time we eat? Am I so in the habit of rushing through meals that I almost did it this time when I really didn't need to?

After dinner, we went to an ice cream store downtown. With temperatures in the 20's and blustery winds, ice cream sounded like torture to me, so I had a cup of White Chocolate Mocha and let the girls take their time eating ....they don't share my distaste for ice cream in winter.

We stopped at my parents' on the way home and hung out for a while. The whole pace of the evening was just unusually laid-back and wonderful. I had looked forward to an evening out with the girls, and I knew we would have fun, but the awareness of lingering with nowhere else to be, once I became accustomed to it, was an absolutely unexpected gift.

Southern Accents

2008-02-01T21:29:00.000-05:00

"Mommy, I think Sissy has an accent". Peanut was carefully eating her Froot Loops, one color at at time.

Not really sure how she came to be a linguistics expert, but dying to know, I asked her what she meant. It turns out she was slightly confused about what an accent actually is, and thought that when Sissy mockingly repeated her during an argument, that the voice Sissy used was an accent.

"So what is an accent?", she asked , after I made her aware of her understandable mistake.

"An accent is how people pronounce words depending on where they're from, " I told her.
"Remember how you told me what your friend S. said the first day you went to class after your arm cast came off? How you talked like him when you were telling me about it?"

Peanut: "Yeah, he said....."Oh myee gahsh, yoo gahda noo ahm!"

Me: "That's a Northern accent." New England, I was pretty sure, but I was trying to keep things simple.

Peanut: "Well, what do we sound like?"

I fought off the urge to say, "We sound just like this!" But what a question, though. The only way to answer her was to give her another comparison. I thought a minute.

"Okay Peanut, say - 'Tonight I'm going to ride my bike". She did.

"Well people with Northern accents say 'Tonieeet I'eem going to rieeede myee bieeeke'.
I knew I was overexaggerating, but I really wanted her to see the difference.

The girls cracked up laughing. I told them that people everywere else think we talk funny.
They couldn't believe it.

There have only been a couple of times when I was made keenly aware that I have a drawl.

Once when I was 9 , we vacationed in Florida. At the hotel pool I befriended twin sisters from Indiana or somewhere. I noticed them looking at each other after I would say certain things. Then one of them said, "Tell us again where you're from".
"Tennessee," I said. They looked at each other again and this time laughed out loud. "Teeunasayyy?" they asked. "Did you say 'Teeunasayyy?'

Then in my early 20's when I was visiting family in Cleveland Ohio, it took multiple attempts before the clerk in a 7-11 understood that I wanted to buy a lighter. He kept telling me they didn't sell ladders.

I read somewhere once that the Southern accent is a delicate thing, very easy to lose if one moves away from the South. I've seen it happen in people I know.

I've also noticed that while I'm sure outside the South my kids sound like little hillbillies, they don't have nearly as strong an accent as my husband and I.
Just last month after my husband told Brother he needed to put some air in his tires, Sissy said, "Daddy, what's a tar?"
It was funny, but in a way, it kind of wasn't. I never would have thought our own kids would have trouble understanding us.

100 Things About Me Vol. 3

2008-01-30T13:53:00.000-05:00

#51 - 75

51. I love getting comments on my blog ( so please take a minute and say hi).

52. On a day-to-day basis, especially in winter, I am a homebody, in spirit if not in the flesh.

53. Even so, when we go on vacation I am never ready to come home.

54. I hate it when people getting on an elevator, actually enter the elevator before other people can exit, thereby making the exiting much more awkward and physical.

55. However, I was recently mortified to catch myself distractedly doing just that. Wounded by disdainful, exit glares, the same ones that I have myself fired many a time, I wanted to say, " I didn't mean to! Really! I'm one of you! " But I just hung my head in shame.

56. I am passionate about homeschooling my daughters.

57. That said, most of the time I don't even come close to maximizing the potential of educating them at home.

58. I have a fondness for pink grapefruit Jelly Bellies.

59. I am physically unable to leave a blog post unchanged after I have published it. I'm always going back and tweaking words.

60. I once had a completely infatuous relationship with a married man who was older than my father.

61. I was 5 at the time, and had not yet been made aware of love's boundaries. Also, it was one-sided.

62. Argumentative by nature, I will often play devil's advocate just to keep things interesting.

63. However, when I truly, strongly disagree with someone, I'm more likely to remain silent for fear of losing my temper. Or sounding stupid.

64. I love camping with my family.

65. But due to busy schedules, we really don't get to camp that much.

66. Every time I see one of those commercials advertising a particular medication for men, I wonder about the actors.........do they get recognized in public? Are they the laughingstock of neighborhood barbecues? How much are they getting paid and is it really a fair price for self-respect?

67. I have the astounding ability to blog while mountains of clean laundry waiting to be folded quietly overtake my home.

68. Like right now.

69. I don't understand road rage. Road annoyance, sure, but rage?? Is it really worth it?

70. When I had fewer kids and more time, one of my favorite things to do was to put on some Eagles music and try singing the different harmony parts.

71. About fifteen years ago, I dreamed I was onstage singing back up for Don Henley. I was wearing jeans and an old, soft, flannel shirt. He was singing "Heart of the Matter" and in the chorus I would "ooooooh" and belt out "forgiveness...... forgiveness".

72. To this day, it is the best dream I ever had.

73. I'm a global thinker, which is a trendy way of saying I'm terrible with details.

74. The smell of coconut oil is an aphrodisiac for me.... but only if it's coming from my husband's sunscreen.

75. My written grammar, weak as it is, completely eclipses my spoken grammar. Honestly, hearing me speak, one might wonder if I'd been raised by the Clampetts.

#1 - 25

#26 - 50

Brother with a Capital B

2008-01-29T20:56:00.000-05:00

or "What Was Originally Meant to be My Post Yesterday But Then I Got Sidetracked With the Sissy Confusion, Which Ended Up Taking Over"

In school they make sure you know, among other things, when and how to use proper capitalization. They start teaching you these rules of grammar in 1st grade, and by 3rd grade you should really have it down.
What they don't tell you in school though, what they somehow forget to tell you even though they live with you and play Gobblet with you, and kiss you good night, and are entrenched in the daily interaction between you and other family members, is this:

Sometimes, the fence separating common nouns from proper nouns gets flattened by a persistent rogue word , who then sneakily wanders over the fallen posts and into the other pasture, taking up permanent residence there. He does this because his parents, doing only what came naturally, began using his new relationship title as the only form of addressing him the minute after you, his baby sister were born.

"Here Brother, do you want to hold her?"

"I think she likes you, Brother!"

then to you - "Look, Brother's got you! Yes, you like Brother, don't you?"

It was all very new and sweet and somehow the name stuck without anybody realizing it until several years and another sister later, somebody overhears you call to him, and looks amusedly at your mother.

"Brother? They call him Brother?"

"Yeah", she says, wondering mildly if she should be embarrassed. "They do. He IS their only one you know". Indeed. What did they expect you to call him?

And then suddenly, Baby Sister, you are 8 years old and you wrestle with 3rd grade Spelling.

One day, after carefully writing out your list words, you bring them to your mother for her approval, and stand beside her while she reads:

reaches

gather

bother

Brother

charge

thunder

Your mother smiles and you want to know what's funny. "Nothing", she tells you. "You did great....your handwriting is very neat today, and you spelled them perfectly".

You grin proudly, and go off to find your American Girl book and a quiet place in the sunlight.

For the time being, Brother is still safe as a proper noun.

What's In A Name?

2008-01-28T21:17:00.000-05:00

"You want to know what's weird about us Sissy?" Peanut looked reflective. "We call each OTHER Sissy!"

"Right!" Sissy laughed. And then Peanut was laughing too, and they were both shaking their heads and looking at each other like - "Who DOES that?"

It's true. Around here both girls share the name Sissy. It makes things a little simpler. "Tell Sissy to come here a minute", or "Why don't you show Sissy your new trick?" is so much gentler to the brain cells than attempting the correct name.

Sometimes it can lead to momentary confusion though. Like this morning - I was telling Sissy I was going to write in my blog about her. She looked very pleased.
"Are you going to put my name in it?" she wanted to know. Before I could answer she frowned. "Hey! Have you EVER put my name on your blog?"
"Not your real name," I told her. "On my blog I call you Sissy".
"Right"...., she nodded, then looked puzzled, "..... and you call Sissy.......?"
"Peanut" I answered.
"Right." Satisfied now, she walked away but was back in seconds.
"But do you think they know you're not talking about a REAL peanut?"
"Umm, I think so, yeah".

When choosing blog names for my kids, I could have called them both Sissy, but in print it would have been just too much. So I thought of using their father's special nicknames for them .

Only the 8 year-old's nickname contains part of her real name, so using it would have defeated the purpose of a secret blog identity.

That wasn't a problem with the 6 year-old. So it was decided. In the world of Raising Butterflies, the 8 year-old would get the default-female-sibling name , and the 6 year-old would be known by her nickname.

And that's how Sissy became Sissy and the other Sissy became Peanut.

I just hope all this time it's been clear that I haven't been writing about a REAL peanut.

Crowded Unsanitary Living Conditions

2008-01-27T19:03:00.000-05:00

When Brother was very young, he was fairly healthy. He usually got sick once a year, twice at the most..... run-of-the-mill stuff like strep and upper respiratory infections and itinerant stomach bugs.

Whenever he would get sick, I would look up his symptoms in a Pediatric Illness book I had (this was before ANYBODY had a computer, let alone Internet access). There was one risk factor that was common to every illness he ever had ..... crowded, unsanitary living conditions. This annoyed me because there were only three of us then and more than enough room in this house, and our living conditions, while not antibacterial, were pretty clean.
I didn't waste time worrying about it though. It was just one of those things that had to be listed as a POSSIBLE reason a child might get croup, or chicken pox. Crowded, unsanitary, living conditions....it had a comedic ring to it. It might be a good name for a band or a TV sitcom, but it sure didn't apply to our home. Besides, there were always other risk factors we met, like, oh...... exposure to the outside world.

The book fell apart awhile back and I got rid of it. It was rather obsolete anyway, since somewhere along the way, the Internet had become my go-to guide in matters of my childrens' health. The times they were a-changing. And maybe the terminology isn't PC anymore, but my Internet medical sources never list crowded, unsanitary, living conditions as a risk factor for anything.

But then yesterday as I watched the thermometer in Sissy's mouth hit 102 and I counted the number of times the girls have been sick since October, the phrase crept into my mind for the first time in ages. I thought about it. The population of this house HAS almost doubled since Brother was little, and I DID keep it much cleaner in The Early Years.

Could it be possible? Have we really sunk to the level of the lowest common denominator of childhood illness?

Crowded Unsanitary Living Conditions....... I think the term is growing on me. It trips off the tongue with a rather appealing cadence.
Maybe I should change the name of my blog.

Secret Play - The Share and Shoot

2008-01-26T19:16:00.000-05:00

Sissy's basketball coach (aka Daddy) came home yesterday with a small dry erase board. The board is marked with basketball court lines, and supposedly is handy for demonstrating basketball plays to one's team. Supposing, of course, that one's team is actually paying attention, and not fighting over who gets to draw on the board next. Both girls wanted to show us how they could draw offensive plays.

Peanut's secret play goes something like this:

"First, I dribble the ball down," she speaks in a melody of hills and valleys. "Then, I pass the ball to S. Then S. passes it to K. , then K. passes it to A. , then A. passes it to H. and H. SHOOTS!", she finishes with a flourish, then remembers, "Oh and I get the rebound."

She holds up the pretend basketball court. Her play looks like an incomplete dot-to-dot drawing. But it's a good play. Everybody gets a turn to handle the ball. Everybody has fun. I think it just might work ..... as long as there are no defensive players on the court.

Why It's A Major Award, That's What It Is.....

2008-01-25T20:23:00.000-05:00

Look at it....would you just LOOK at it!

It's, it's indescribably beautiful! Why, it reminds me of the Fourth of July!

The good people at Tennesseebloggers.com sent me an e-mail informing me that Raising Butterflies has been listed in their Best Blogs in Tennessee directory.

Oh, the temptation to let the above sentence stand without any further explanation.... wait, I just want to read it one more time.

Okay. The thing is, Tennesseebloggers.com calls ALL the blogs in it's directory a" Best Blog in Tennessee". What's more, they're so all-inclusive that I'm pretty sure if you live in Tennessee AND you have a blog, you have met all the criteria. Ha! I love it. No ugly voting, no rejection issues...and you get a cute little award button to put on your blog.

Narcissistic? Well, yeah. But I'm doing it in the name of state pride :)

They really do have an informative site, with blogs listed by categories like: regional, political, faith and religion, personal journals, food, etc. There's even some Tennessee trivia.

100 Things About Me Vol. 2

2008-01-23T12:34:00.000-05:00

I thought if I broke it down into a 4-part series, it would be manageable to write, and perhaps not too insufferably long to read.

#26 - 50

26. I like crossword puzzles.

27. However, I'm not great at it. I can only solve the New York Times puzzle by playing on a team of 3 - myself, my husband, and our friend Google.

28. I can't get into Sudoku - I've tried.

29. I hate it when I hear the word Appalachia pronounced incorrectly. There is no long "a" people!

30. I'm almost always for the underdog, even if my kid is on the other team.

31. My favorite drink is Sierra Mist.

32. For the first time ever, I'm excited about the Superbowl.

33. But only because Tom Petty's playing the halftime show. I don't even know what teams are playing.

34. I have a degree in nursing.

35. My first major was broadcasting.

36. I thought it would be cool to be a DJ.

37. I switched majors after a semester spent working at the campus radio station made me realize I didn't really want my voice to be heard on radios everywhere. I just wanted to play music all day.

38. I have to be holding a hot cup of caffeine before I can be nice in the morning.

39. I've lived on the same street nearly all of my 40 years.

40. I was madly in love with Shaun Cassidy when I was 10.

41. I wonder where he is now.

42. I was well into my 20's before I realized there was no little drummer boy in the biblical account of the birth of Jesus. (That one was really hard to admit).

43. I'm partial to even numbers. I only like odd ones if they're multiples of five.

44. My second child was born on the 19th of the month, after 24 hours of labor, at around 5pm. I still regret not holding out another 7 hours so her birthdate would be the 20th - an even number AND a multiple of 5.

45. No, I've never considered getting therapy.

46. I'm a semi-regular sufferer of insomnia.

47. As such, I've spent many hours mindlessly surfing the Internet, acquiring an impressive collection of inane pop culture trivia, like the fact that Weird Al Yankovic gave his daughter my name.

48. I've had a myspace page since before I started blogging.

49. I started it to keep tabs on some kids I know .

50. I'd like to get rid of it but I can't bring myself to, because some old friends have contacted me through myspace and I'd probably lose touch with them completely if I gave it up.

Click here for #1 - 25

History Lesson Today

2008-01-21T20:51:00.000-05:00

Today the girls had a Keepers At Home meeting. It's a club similar to Girl Scouts but more scripturally based. The name is taken from a verse in Titus in which older women are told to train younger women to be keepers at home.

Usually the girls work on learning some type of skill that will be useful to them when they have their own homes. Today was different. Because it was Martin Luther King Day, much of the meeting focused on Dr. King's leadership in the civil rights movement. The girls who go to public school seemed to already know most of what was being taught. I hadn't yet made the girls aware of who he was, and I really wasn't planning to until they got a little older, but I was glad they got to learn about him today.

The coolest part was that we crowded around a computer and watched the entire "I Have A Dream" speech on youtube. I think it was the first time I've ever heard the whole thing, although I've heard the end of it many times and it still gives me chills.

Oh wait. The girls did learn a skill today - one they've been attempting unsuccessfully for a couple of months. They did not learn this skill at Keepers At Home. In fact, I threatened them with their lives if they even THOUGHT about showing off this skill at Keepers At Home, as it's not really the kind of thing that befits little godly-young-ladies-in-training.

But they're both so proud that they can now............... do arm farts. Their father was greeted with a chorus of them when he came home from work.

So ......... today they learned something historically and socially significant, and something useless and mildly offensive. I guess it's been a well rounded day.

When Butterflies Fall

2008-01-18T20:37:00.000-05:00

There is nothing quite as scary or exciting as releasing your first precious, hand-raised butterfly into the wild.

And there is nothing quite as heartbreaking as watching it struggle mightily to fly, only to fall defeated to the ground.

You ask yourself how this could have happened. You see many other young adult butterflies soaring in the sky - graceful, confident, ready to take on the world.

Why isn't your butterfly like them?
Did you hand-feed him too long? He was all you had for so many years and you loved him so fiercely.... could you have denied him experiences he needed to build strong wings?
The younger butterflies finally came, one after the other, and took up so much of your time.... did you abandon him at a critical stage in his development, after hovering so much he never gained the independence he needed? Is he just a late bloomer? Or is he bound to be different for the rest of his life?

You cry tears of remorse and confusion - out of his presence, lest he think himself a disappointment to you and become truly crippled in discouragement.

You dry the tears and come out. You tell him it's OK.
You help him brush off his wings , regain his bearings, and try again.

And you hold your breath and pray.

Because it's all you can do.

My 100th Post

2008-01-16T21:49:00.000-05:00

"100 Things About Me "

Vol. I

#1 - 25

1. My name is Nina Renee. Literally translated from Spanish and French origins, it means "girl reborn".

2. My parents did not know this when they named me.

3. As a Christian, it was very cool to make that discovery just a few years ago.

4. I'm left-handed.

5. But I bat right-handed.

6. I married a man who is right-handed but bats left-handed.

7. I'm the oldest of 3 with 2 younger brothers.

8. I married a man who is the youngest of 3 with 2 older sisters.

9. I'm pretty sure that's where the mirror effect ends.

10. I got married when I was 18.

11. I think 18 is way too young to get married.

12. My first child was born after a planned pregnancy.

13. I (along with my husband) thought 4 years was about right for spacing children, and planned accordingly.

14. I now know what they mean when they say "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans".

15. My second child was born 11 years after my first.

16. After the birth of my second child, we thought we were done having children, having forgotten #14.

17. My third child was born 19 months after my second, allowing me to join the ranks of those who have experienced both infertility and surprise pregnancies.

18. I wouldn't change a thing about either experience.

19. I would give just about anything to be able to play a musical instrument.

20. Except the time it would take to learn how .

21. I do play a screamin' air guitar.

22. It's small consolation.

23. I'm an ex-smoker.... quit December 1998.

24.I watch too much TV. But I would love to try living without it.

25. I use too much computer. But I can't imagine living without it.

January 15, 1961

2008-01-15T22:04:00.000-05:00

My husband was born 47 years ago today.

By 1967 - the year I was born - he was a worldly man of 6.

His lifetime had already seen the first American fly into space, the Beatles invade America, the U.S. enter the VietNam War, and a man who shared his birthday give a speech called "I Have A Dream" - to name just a few major events.

Of course, my husband remembers none of these things.
One of his earliest memories though, is related to perhaps the most significant event in a decade full of significant events.

It is of a little boy his age he saw on television. All he remembers is seeing the little boy stand in a salute. My mother-in-law would tell me later that my husband asked her what the little boy was doing and why.

The little boy was John F. Kennedy Jr., saluting his father's retreating casket.
A famous image, shown on probably every documentary ever aired about JFK's life and death, I've seen it more times than I can count and am moved by it every time....
this chubby-legged, solemn-faced 3 year-old in such a grown-up pose.......contradictory but very fitting , even though he couldn't have understood the significance of any of it. Did he even understand that his father wasn't coming back?

I don't remember any of the 60's, but when I think of that period in history, that image of John-John stands out.
It's kind of weird and yet somehow cool, to be married to someone who even vaguely remembers seeing it when it happened.

And now I have to post this while it is still my husband's birthday.

Happy Birthday Man of Mine.

A Better Day!

2008-01-14T13:04:00.000-05:00

Sissy woke up this morning and said , " Hey! My legs don't feel funny when I walk!"
She spent the morning doing schoolwork and generally acting more like herself again.
Then she ate a whole bowl of soup for lunch, which is more than she's eaten at one time in almost a week.
I think she's back. :)

It's A Good Thing I'm Not Superstitious

2008-01-13T17:55:00.000-05:00

or I would be inclined to believe that my last post was directly related to Sissy's slow recovery from this stomach thing.

Just follow the timeline and see what I mean.

Last Saturday night: Peanut gets sick.

Sunday: Peanut is sick all day.

Monday: Peanut wakes up feeling much better.

Tuesday: Noone is sick.

Tuesday night: Sissy gets sick.

Wednesday: Sissy is sick all day.

Thursday: Sissy starts perking up

Thursday night: I write a blog post about how I LIKE it a little bit when my kids are sick.

Friday: Sissy is not so perky today.

Saturday: Sissy rallies enough to play a 6 - minute period of basketball. She spends the rest of the day lying around.

Sunday: Sissy gets up and goes to church, but still tires very easily. She comes home from church and takes a two-hour nap.

She has no color. She has no appetite. She has no energy. There's nothing sweet about it now.

See how it looks?

But, I'm NOT superstitious so I'm leaving my previous post as - is. In spite of the fact that I got no comments reassuring me that I'm not weird.

Moving Right Along

2008-01-10T20:49:00.000-05:00

Okay, I now know, that I can turn out writing that makes me more nauseous than the actual experience written about. I considered deleting the last post for that reason. But in the name of posterity, it shall remain.

Is it very weird to LIKE it just a little bit when your kids are sick? I don't mean critically ill, or bad prognosis sick, I mean sick with stuff that you know they're going to get over in a few days, but in the meantime they just lie around and eat popsicles and be sweet?

Peanut and Sissy are both sweet in very different ways when they're sick.

Peanut wants me parked with her on the couch at all times. If I get up to go to the bathroom, she protests. When I return five minutes later, she latches onto me like I've been gone a month.
It's really very good for the ego. Not so much for getting laundry done or kitchens cleaned though.

Sissy doesn't mind getting extra attention when she's sick, but she's fine without it. The sweet part, is that I get to watch her sleep. There on the couch in the afternoon light, with her hair falling over her cheek.... her eyes closed , her face softened in sleep ..... she could be four years old again. Sigh.

I wouldn't wish them sick for anything in the world, but when they ARE sick, I have to say there are things I enjoy about it.

That isn't very weird....... is it?

A First Time For Everything I Guess

2008-01-09T20:46:00.000-05:00

Be advised.
The content of the following paragraph is disgusting in nature, and not for the weak-of -stomach.
Feel free to skip it. Because it was unprecedented, I couldn't NOT write about it.

Today marks the first time in over 21 years of housekeeping, that I have ever had to vacuum the inside of my washing machine. The REASON I had to do this, involves child vomit. And the not-so-good chewing habits of the vomiter. And less than average common sense on my part, combined with the uncontrollable need to just get the foul odor away from me and in some hot bleachy water as quickly as I could. What I found when I took the sheets out of the washer was the bottom of the washer littered with nice clean chunks of ..... yeah.

So we've been kicking the new year off with a hardy little stomach bug -- just so we can go ahead and cross it off the list.

I Know, It's Only Rock & Roll But I Like It

2008-01-07T21:31:00.000-05:00

Yes I do. I also like bluegrass, inspirational, motown, country, big band, 80's pop, ...... and I can listen to them all on my new mp3 player.

I have really fallen off the wagon since I got this thing. My listening habits were becoming much more discerning. But since Christmas I've been on a real binge, ripping and burning CD's I hadn't listened to in years.I have a total of 278 songs on my player so far. Most, we already owned on CD, but some I just recently bought.

My parents gave me a Visa Card for Christmas and I've used almost all of it to purchase individual songs on Wal-Mart.com. I LOVE that you can do that! There are so many songs I've always liked, but I didn't like the artist enough to spring for the whole CD. Now, I can pick and choose.

I'm like a kid in a candy store.
I've tried to choose carefully though, and I think I have a pretty good mix.....some classics from the 60's and 70's, some early 80's nostalgia, and a couple of songs that came out in the 90's.
Here's what I got so far:

I named the playlist "Love, Mom and Dad".

1. Respect - Aretha Franklin
2. Think - Aretha Franklin
3. Midnight Train to Georgia - Gladys Knight & the Pips
4. Build Me Up Buttercup - The Foundations
5. Layla - Derek and the Dominoes
6. All Right Now - Free
7. Here Come Those Tears Again - Jackson Browne
8. The Pretender - Jackson Browne
9. Some Kind of Wonderful - Grand Funk
10. Sara Smile - Hall and Oates
11. She's Gone - Hall and Oates
12. Rockin Me - Steve Miller Band
13. Blinded By The Light - Mannfred Mann's Earth Band
14. Waiting For A Girl Like You - Foreigner
15. Stop Draggin My Heart Around - Stevie Nicks/Tom Petty
16. You Make My Dreams Come True - Hall and Oates
17. Kiss On My List - Hall and Oates
18. Tempted - Squeeze
19. What Kind Of Fool Am I - Rick Springfield
20. Love Somebody - Rick Springfield
21. Crazy - Aerosmith
22. What It Takes - Aerosmith
23. And I Am Telling You - Jennifer Hudson

The CD's I put on my player in their entirety, include Casting Crowns, Third Day, Building 429, the Eagles, Beatles, James Taylor, John Mellencamp, Alison Krauss, Waylon Jennings, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Bob Seger, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers, and Atlanta Rhythm Section.

I was also able to put Peanut's song from the Christmas play on it. The list of artists is arranged alphabetically, which tucks Peanut safely between John Mellencamp and Lynyrd Skynyrd (because believe it or not, her real name isn't Peanut).

It also has Alison Krauss and Aerosmith living happily side by side.

Yes, there is a perfect world. And I can hold it in the palm of my hand. :)

Christmas Gift

2008-01-06T04:38:00.000-05:00

The man formerly known as Mud has redeemed himself.

Not that I was waiting for him to redeem himself, or that I even remember past offenses, but if I were the kind of woman who never forgets little things like sweet potato pies, I would now consider my memory erased.

Why? Because he surprised me at Christmas. And unlike the Sweet Potato Pie Incident, I had no preconceived notions of what my gift might be. None at all! Not until I had all the wrapping paper off and saw the words on the box, did I have any idea what he got me.

That never happens!! I ALWAYS know what he gets me for Christmas, usually because he asks me what I want, and I tell him. He’s even been known to give me money, and I have no problem with that at all. I love hitting the sales after Christmas with gift money.

Last year we combined our gifts to each other and got a new TV because our old one had died. The year before that I asked for and got, a printer/copier/scanner. Again, a practical, but much needed gift.
See, I’m not ALL about romance.

There have been years when we agreed not to get each other anything.
Since we hadn’t discussed what to get each other at all this year, and I was somewhat preoccupied with being sick the week before Christmas, I just assumed this was one of our ‘off’ years.

But there was a gift for me from him on Christmas morning. I was surprised, but I figured it was some token thing he had heard me say I needed.
So I tore off the paper, expecting to find some nice socks. What I found was something I never would have asked for, but have wanted for a long time…..
An MP3 player!!! I’ve wanted one ever since they first came out, but when you need things like a new printer, or TV, an mp3 player seems pretty frivolous.

So yeah, Keith is pretty proud of himself. He can also bask in the fact that he outgifted me. Actually, if he had gotten me socks, he would have outgifted me. Again, I was sick, we hadn’t talked about it….. excuses, excuses.

He does have a birthday in a couple of weeks though.
I wonder if I can redeem myself.

Post-Holiday Post

2008-01-04T17:55:00.000-05:00

Wow, it's hard to believe it's been a mere two weeks since I posted. It feels like months. Things got really hairy around here before Christmas. I caught a terrible cold and the only thing that got me through wrapping presents Christmas Eve was the nice Nyquil buzz I had going. The hangover the next morning was a killer though.
Brother has also been sick, and is much better but not completely.

And Peanut, my sweet Peanut, has really been through the wringer. She developed a severe urinary tract infection before Christmas. It came on quite suddenly and she was miserably ill for several hours before she got antibiotics and started feeling better. Unfortunately, those several hours she felt the worst, happened to include our church's Christmas play, in which Peanut was to sing a solo. I won't go into detail about that evening, because I don't think I can go there again in my mind.
As it turned out though, Peanut was asked to sing her solo in church the next Sunday.
She did and did a fine job, with Sissy and other children joining her for part of the song. I wish I knew how to upload the CD.

Also, because this was Peanut's second UTI, her pediatrician strongly recommended she have a couple of tests to check out her kidneys, bladder, etc. One of those tests was no big deal. The other, was the worst thing I have ever had to witness being done to one of my children. I can't write much about it either. I just want to forget it. I know Peanut does too.
The good news is she is healthy. Her tests were within normal limits. For that I am thankful.

So anyway, that's what we've been up to over the holidays. We're about to get back on track though, and I'm sure I'll soon be blogging about lighter, happier things again. I sure hope so anyway. It's no fun being heavy.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-22T09:59:00.000-05:00

A glance at the date of my last post tells me this is the longest stretch I've gone without posting in a while. It's been pretty crazy around here, with Christmas preparations, a couple of illnesses, and various other stuff.
This will most likely be my last post until after the holidays, so I just want to wish everyone who reads this a Merry Christmas and a blessed 2008.

Teacher Gifts

2007-12-13T13:52:00.000-05:00

Today we made Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookie Mix for the girls' teachers.

Pictured above are the finished products.

What you see below is the fallout. Although you can't really grasp the scale of the mess, since I didn't get the floor in the photo.

Attention Blog Gurus

2007-12-12T21:28:00.000-05:00

I have a technical question for other bloggers.

Can I save my blog archives to CD without saving them to my hard drive first?
I've had a growing sense of urgency to backup my blog for a while now, but I really don't know how, and I have this fear of these written memories of my kids getting lost forever.

So if anyone has done this....someone who has written a BOOK containing much of their blog content, perhaps, could you give me some technical advice on saving my blog? In nontechnical, easy-to-understand language?

Thanks.

Whew!

2007-12-11T16:15:00.000-05:00

Well we did it...but not without much wailing and gnashing of teeth. After I calmed down, it went much more smoothly. It wasn't so much the making of the costume, as the trying to think of an idea for the costume that took so much time. The hula hoop idea was a bust....so we ended up with posterboard rings, decorated by Peanut with markers and colored seashells. The planet itself was also posterboard and Peanut had this avant-garde checkerboard thing going, then I think she got tired of coloring. The poster was put together at the last minute , after she wrote down some facts she had learned about Saturn.

When she presented her poster/report to the class, the teacher asked her if Saturn was a terrestrial planet or a gaseous planet, to which she replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about".
That's my girl!
Sissy also had to do a poster and report-- on Earth's natural resources. Also a bear. A slightly smaller bear, but still.....

She's Supposed to Be a What?!?!

2007-12-08T18:54:00.001-05:00

My blogging time will be spotty if not nonexistent for the next few days, as I'll be spending all my free time helping Peanut come up with a costume for dress-up day in Astronomy class. Dress-up day is Tuesday and she's going as the planet Saturn.

THE PLANET SATURN!!!!!

I don't know what we're going to do. We've got a hula hoop. I was thinking maybe attaching some fishing line to it for straps to go over her shoulders..... I don't know what else to do for rings.... not to mention how to make her look orb-shaped!!!

I don't remember exactly but I'm thinking this was one of the top five reasons we decided to HOMEschool. Frantic, last minute costume design is NOT my forte.

Wish me luck.