Seems Like Old Times

Author’s Note:  I reread these ramblings that I have been writing off and on all day since this morning and realize I have two disconnected stories.  Sorry about that, but am too tired now to change anything or fix it.     

Part One:

      I feel like I say this a lot, but our weekend was super busy.  It was so full of activity and harsh warnings that went like this: "You're getting to do everything you dream this weekend - I don't want to hear any attitude, no complaining.  Not – at - all."  It always seems that those days when there are so many fun events planned, one after another, that require my kids to be up late, playing with friends, eating out - that they can be at their worst.  Of course in my mind, they should be nothing but appreciative and grateful for all the kid-friendly plans we've made. Instead, they often get whiny and forget how amazing it was that each play-date or church function or sleep-over or birthday party lined up perfectly that we could attend it all.  And this doesn't always happen.  Sometimes I do just say no.  We don't make it to everything.  This weekend, we did our best to make it all happen. 

      I think that's why yesterday, President's Day, and a day off of school, was desperately needed.  Elijah, who likes to wake up at 6:30am on a weekend, slept til 8am.  Crazy.  After two nights up past midnight (I told you he had the time of his life), he definitely needed it.  And the girls needed it.  They needed downtime just to play.  And I needed it.  I thought that I would have a chance to take care of all those piles of papers and organize that closet while the kids played with all their downtime.  Instead E wanted Lydia to play ball and Lanie wanted Lydia to play Barbies.  Poor thing.  I feel sorry for my middle child who wants to please everyone.  To even it out, I played ball which lasted a total of 20 minutes before I suggested a ride to the park.  It was a beautiful day.  And we’ve had several of them in a row.  We are so blessed down here in the south. 

        Our park trip ended when during hide and seek, Elijah found a pile of roly polies.  You’d think the kids found gold.  They were thrilled to catch them and then wrangle their bikes & scooters home with handfuls of these crawly things. It became quite a to-do as we created habitats for them and gave them family roles.  There was mama roly poly, baby roly poly, big sister roly poly, you get the picture.  Apparently though, after peeking into all the glass jars just now, roly polies were not intended to live that way.  Out to the grass they go. 

Part Two:

        To make our day even better, I gathered a bagful of lunch items and got the kids in the truck (which is unfortunate because the van had a bad tire.)  Three kids in the back of a truck is not very fun.  But we made our 45 minute jaunt to see our best friends, The Hergenraders.  We don’t get to see them enough but when we do, it’s like visiting family.  We love their home with my dream tall trees and forest-y backyard and kids that fill their cul-de-sac.  I always feel like I’ve stepped into my perfect idea of what growing up would be before everyone got scared to let their kids run around outside alone for fear of stranger danger.  The best part of the day though was when everyone came inside and all 7 kids found something quiet to do.  Some watched a movie, and the others sat in their art room creating and Tina and I did what we rarely get to do.  We sat on a couch and talked. Even at Indigo Girls playing in the background.  As roommates in college, we went on regular walks through our small Nebraska town, always late at night completely unafraid, talking and venting.  I have so many fond memories of those walks. So many tough talks.  So many times we laughed till our sides hurt.  So much clarity. 

Just Look at these woods.

       At one point in the day, Tina had to go and check on her 2-year-old who is amazingly quite easy to leave alone when there are so many sets of eyes to watch him.  I told her oldest daughter Catie who was crafting with Lydia that her mom and I used to chat like this all the time.  Catie said, with a smirk, “did you talk about your crushes?”  Well, yes, yes we did and so much more.  I love that our daughters get to witness our friendship 21 years later.  It may not be as frequent, but it is just as endearing now as it was then. And we still get to vent, to gain clarity in situations that now involve kids, school and jobs, and yes we still talk about our crushes, they’ve merely graduated to husbands. 

While at the park, we were rained out so the kids were singing  in the rain. 

     

Fingerprint Frustration, New Job & Change

 
     I've been rejected by the FBI.  My fingerprints, that is. I received an email from the Texas Education     Agency that I would have to give it another go.  So, I did.  Now I'm waiting for any good results.  Isn't it crazy that your fingerprints can be rejected?  The fingerprint lady (I don't know what to call her officially) but she told me that it's common in women, as they age (thanks!).   We often lose our fingerprints due to Clorox cleaners, exfoliation, hand sanitizers, etc.  Who knew?  And to think I believed it beneficial to keep things clean.
      I went home and googled "lost fingerprints and women" and was sent to sites about things that happen to the elderly (that's nice) and it's common with basket weavers and lumberjacks and seamstresses.  An Agatha Christie novel about  a basket-making murderer would be quite harrowing. (I won't take credit for the idea, read it on my fingerprint site.)
     And if you're wondering why I was getting my fingerprints, it wasn't just for fun.  Here's my chance to share that I finally got a job. Yea, me!  It doesn't start until March but if all goes as planned, and right now, that plan may be changing, but if my second set of digital prints actually show the needed ridges, then I will now be the librarian at Jackson Intermediate, a 7th and 8th grade school with 90% students on free or reduced lunch. What a difference from teaching at Lutheran South Academy.
     I  will only be a long-term substitute because the principal was generous enough to let me work MWF so I can stay home with Lanie on Tuesday and Thursday.  When I went in for the interview, I thought it was for next school year but they needed someone that day, full-time.  I wrestled with what to do, for many days, going to trusted friends with their advice and praying with them.  God seemed to open more and more windows especially when I got the green light that they would hire me part-time for now.
     Our Normal will have to change.  The mornings will be different on MWF, more work for Kenny, although he already does the gist of it, waking kids up and getting breakfast.  He'll have to also learn how to make a pony-tail, and braid and tie the right color ribbon in the girls' hair.   Certainly we'll work it out and a new Normal will become common.  I have been praying that my love of working in a library surpasses any difficulties we may have with the home adjustments.  Will you pray that for me too?  And even though I love to change the furniture in my house around all the time, I'm not as great at the big changes.  I love this quote that I used to have tacked in my college dorm room close to my own hole-y, Linus-like blanket.

It’s not so much that we’re afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it’s that place in between that we fear. It’s like being between trapezes. It’s Linus when his blanket is in the dryer. There’s nothing to hold on to.  -- Marilyn Ferguson  

         Of course, if my fingerprints never show, and they have to do a manual back-ground check that can take up to 5 months,  I won't have to worry about any of this change.  But, I have this gut feeling God's calling me to it, fingerprints or not.  

   

Roll Out the Barrel - a restaurant review

     While my parents were here, we did A LOT of stuff.   It started on Friday when we watched Elijah's 3rd grade class give chapel and he read the Blessing at the end.  We cheered at 3 basketball games, toured our dream house which I had to sadly admit to the realtor that this just wasn't our time, went to church and watched a community theatre production of A Little Princess which at intermission Lydia admitted she didn't know what was going on.  And it ended on Monday after a day of Valentine shopping for the kids.  All this going and coming left little time to eat at home so what do you do when you've got family in town?  You go out to eat.  

      When my mom and dad come to town, we stick to a few basic restaurants - mostly Tex Mex.  If you knew my dad, Tex, you would understand that he's not a fan of "trying new things" but loves the comfort of knowing what to expect.  And I respect that seeing that I am a bit seeped in tradition myself.  But this visit, we wanted to take them to King's Biergarten, touted as #1 German Restaurant in the nation where it's "Octoberfest all year round!" If you live nearby - are a Pearlander, a Friendswoodite, or a Houstonian - make some time to visit and go on the weekend and sit outside (and if it's cold, there are heaters.)  I've never been to Germany but with a dad who is 100%, who loves beer, the polka, and who met my mom while in Germany (funny thing, they were both from Texas), King's Biergarten seemed like the perfect place to go that wasn't Tex Mex but wouldn't be too out of the box.  And it didn't disappoint.  While we ate our bratwurst and strudel, we sung out to Roll Out the Barrel and introduced the kids to "Zicke, zacke, zicke, zacke, hoi, hoi, hoi" a toast all good beer and root beer drinkers alike need to know.  
    If you've never been - make an effort to go and embrace this place that in its small 3000 feet of space combine my dad's Favorite Things - no, not raindrops on roses or Edelweiss, but good German food, drink and music with a Texas flair.  I've said it in other posts (also about German restaurants) and I'll say it again:  It is sehr gut mein freund. 
German for:  Very good, my friend. 

A little boisterous with the "hoi hoi hoi's"

Oh those Valentines!

       Last week, I went to the zoo with some friends and all together, we had eleven children 4-years-old or under.  By the end of the day, in some way or another, every one of us had a chance to vent some in-the-moment kid frustration.  One mom was discouraged because her new baby isn't sleeping well, another because her daughter gets so whiny when she can't do something perfect the first try, another because her almost two-year-old won't sit still and is always climbing, and then there's mine who visited the bathroom a half dozen times (but I will say without any accidents, thank you very much.)  But it's funny - there's always something.  Each kid has their own quirks, we parents just want to be assured by friends that the quirkiness is completely Normal.  If not, that envy can rear its ugly head.
 
       You can be in envy of a friend whose child goes to sleep with merely a kiss goodnight and lights out while you rub backs and sing songs till their eyes are fluttering (that's me) but that parent you envy has to deal with other issues. Maybe they envy that your kid doesn't have to be prodded to do homework, or that your kid loves roller coasters, or that your kid will eat broccoli.  There's always something.

       Or at least you tell yourself that.  Or I told myself that tonight as I sat with Lanie as she wrote her name sixteen times on her Valentine cards.  I wouldn't call it torture, but it wasn't exactly a party.  We started the process last week and got as far as writing her name twice, before she completely gave up.  She's  not sure if she should write E-L-A-I-N-E (like she learned last year) or L-A-N-I-E which is easier than L-a-n-i-e which her teacher instructs her to write.  She's bewildered, and to top it off won't listen to me when I tell her how to hold a pencil.  Stubborn, spirited girl.  And she finds a million things to do instead of writing - petting the cat, putting the slinky down the stairs, picking up her pen she dropped again.

       But tonight I was prepared - I had bribes up my sleeve.  Write two valentine's and get a bowl of strawberries, two more and some juice, three more and an Oreo, and you get the picture.  And you know what?  It worked.  She finished her Dress-Up Paper Doll Valentines, even adding some sparkle stickers.  She was so proud of herself.  She asked me if other kids were writing their Valentine's tonight.  I told her that, Yes, there probably was a girl or boy somewhere who was also signing her or his name to a classroom full of Valentines.  And maybe that parent knows how I feel and struggled with patience tonight like I did, or maybe they watched their preschooler zip through their stack of Angry Bird or Tinkerbell cards without a single moment of distraction.   Whichever kid you have or had if you're past all that name-writing business, I'm labeling both as Normal.  And we'll make a deal.  I won't envy your conscientious student if you don't envy my spirited one. Because there's always something.

Friday Funny

After I wrote about 80's fashion last week, I got this blurb from a friend that seems like the perfect Friday funny.  If you were born in the 70's, or if you've heard of Diana Ross, MC Hammer or Vanilla Ice, this will make perfect sense.

So have a wonderful weekend.  I intend to.  My parents are here, Yea, so we'll have dinner at the Biergarten, more cheerleaders for the basketball games on Saturday, a night out sans babysitting fees, extra hands to build a shelf (my dad), a pedicure partner (my mom), and a big crew to go visit my dream house on Sunday.  (Yes, I called the realtor.  I couldn't help myself.  I have to see the inside before it's sold off to some very happy family.  Be quiet, I know it's crazy.)

Hammer Time!

Caviar Dream

A few things about this house:

1.  It's located 5 minutes from the kids' school
2.  It has my dream porch
3.  It's Not in a subdivision so no HOA fees
4.  It has a big backyard and as a bonus, a pool
5.  It has gorgeous, tall old trees

A few more things about this house:

1.  I have been driving down this street for 5 years, pining for this porch, these trees, this house
2.  This house is now FOR SALE

The reality:
As Kenny likes to say, it's my caviar dream with our hot dog budget.

Kid Comments:
Lanie: "Can we move in the house, Mommy?  I'll give you all my money."
Lydia:  "Please can we get the house?  That tree would make a great tree house."
Elijah:  "Ya know mom, we could go to like those Bingo places or buy those lotto tickets.  Olivia's mom made like fifty dollars or something at one."

I love, love, love this house.  It's almost as if the builders snuck into my drawer and found my house of dreams wish list.  I'm so glad it exists.
If only . . .

Accidental Mardi Gras

     Over the weekend we were invited to Galveston to eat dinner and go to the beach with our friends, the Bremers and the Greers who have two daughters each.  After a beautiful Saturday afternoon we packed our warm clothes, some car snacks, and for Elijah's sake, picked up a friend for him and headed to the island.  So naive we were.  As we drove across the bridge we were welcomed by banners and signs about This parade and This party and This festival.  Totally forgot it was Mardi Gras.  I mean, I knew it was soon since Ash Wednesday is so close and the King's cakes are all over the place, but I forgot  the 12 days of partying that goes along with it before Fat Tuesday.  Luckily, our restaurant on the sea wall was a cinch to get to, had easy parking and was a front row spot to the Krewe of Gambrinus parade.  What luck!  For the next hour the kids ran in to eat and out to catch beads.   And by kids, I mean me and Elijah.  I don't know what it is about our collector spirits, but I wanted to catch those shiny purple, gold and green oversized necklaces as much as he did.  Something about the catch, the find and wearing the treasure for all to see.  Most of the night I had to be the parent and "give up" those darn, plastic beads to the kids around me who didn't have a neck full.  But it's always an inner battle.  It's like the cherry in a Sonic Lime-Aid.  I love that fruit.  I buy the drink specifically for the one, or if I'm lucky, two cherries.   But as soon as I open my styrofoam cup to dip my hand in to fetch it, I always hear a little voice, "Mama, can I have the cherry?"  Sure, kid, why not?  Forget my small desires. (I'm mostly kidding.)
It's tough to be a parent, or at least a self-less one.  I'm not that good at it yet, but I'm working on it.  One Mardi Gras bead at a time.

Bragging on "Just Good Kids"

           Yesterday I was talking to a mom of 5 and she was bemoaning how their life has moved from the front yard playing with neighbors to coordinating schedules with her husband so that their school-age kids can make it to softball practice, dance class & karate.  And she said what I thought -- there are so so many choices for kids today when it comes to activities and so many unique ones from Archery lessons to Chess Club to Lego-making classes that we want to be able to say YES to the ones our kids may have their hearts set on and do our best to make it work.  Making it work sometimes means, for her, driving 45 minutes to get her daughter to play practice only to rush back to get her other other daughter to an All-Star Softball practice.  

          We don't have her hectic schedule, or that many kids, so I don't know that I'll ever truly understand her dilemma but she said something else that has stuck with me.  Her kids are great at what they do, and so far one child has always gotten the lead role and another has always been one of the "better" players on the team and another is in GT classes but hear her comment: "I hate that people see only their activities.  I'm proud of their accomplishments, really I am, but no ever posts on Facebook that my kid went to Bible study, church and youth group this week.  Or my kid memorized 10 Bible passages and is trying to read the whole Bible or my kids are really kind to each other and trying to help the neighbor next door make friends."  And while I'm only a ghost on Facebook, I can see her point.

        So that long introduction is only to tell you that today I am going to brag on my good-character kids.  I tend to be a bit critical (people tell me this) so I'm going to wash any unpleasant criticism away and refrain from jokes at the expense of my kids and share that all 3 Ward kids received the Outback SteakHouse Student of the Month (Lydia in October, Elijah in December and Lanie today, for January) which rewards (nope, not great grades) but kids who "show positive character traits (obedient, useful, truthful, big hearted, attitude, cheerful and kindness.)"   Now I could make cracks about which Ward kid demonstrates which character trait when and ponder why I don't see these fantastic behaviors all the time at home, but that would not fit with the vein of this post which is just to say plainly, I'm so proud of my kids and love that their efforts in school don't go unnoticed. 

1980's & other Musings

      What did you wear in the 80's? That was a question I had to really think about this past weekend when Lydia (& Lanie by default) were invited to an 80's Dance Birthday Party.  Was there anything special about it? I looked online at some costumes to jog my memory and the big hair, bright colors, side pony-tails, net gloves, acid washed denim, jelly bracelets and banana clips all came back to me.  While at the party, I had a great time talking to other mom's who lived through this nostalgic era.  Instead of telling one of the mom's my age (we were trying to see who was older) I told her what grade I was in when the Challenger blew up.  Sadly, I was older.  But it's funny how much our memories were bonded with the TV shows we were watching (Family Ties), the stickers we were collecting (Garbage Pail Kids), the songs we were listening to (Jack and Diane), the games we were playing (Ms Pacman) and the books we were reading (Sweet Valley High).  And since we are talking about a decade, the fashions and trends changed from 1980 when I was a first grader and dressed in left-over 70's fashions to 1985 when in 5th grade, I finally cut those long, long braids and got the bangs that I would soon learn how to spike while wearing bright jams, jelly shoes and a Swatch Watch, to 1989 when I was a high schooler with crimped hair, Aqua Net bangs and rolled-up Guess Jeans and Esprit shirts.

    So with an awkward decade to work with, I struggled how to dress my little girls for the part.  They didn't have a clue as to what the 80's were and weren't interested in looking at old photo albums.   I tried to show them Madonna and Debbie Gibson but we couldn't get past the side ponytail.  So, that's what we copied.  And a trip to Target gave us some bright off the shoulder shirts (which slid right back onto their shoulders so you can't tell from the pic), some leg warmers, long knee-high socks and a some dangly bracelets.  To be honest, the fashion wasn't too different from their usual attire.  But the side ponytail -- that was the clincher. I even gave them some blue hair paint to make the tail more wild.

    After this walk down memory lane, and some online perusing to find more 80's memorabilia, I am now wondering what my own kids will be talking about at my age.  Will they sit with their friends and reminisce about the 2010's when they played Angry Birds or how they played that One Direction song All Of the Time, or how they loved the Disney Channel.  Will the fashions today be as ridiculous as ours seem to me now?

I have this feeling that they won't.  Because right now when I look around me (and I'm in Panera with the real world today), I see normal.  I don't see rebellious hair or colors or odd fashions. I realize I'm not walking with the metropolitan people of Houston but merely judging the few late-lunchers in suburbia Texas, but the everyday wear is merely useful, comfortable, thrown together. And for me, sitting in a cold restaurant, useful is good.

  But I long for a time, like my mom's, when their fashion of poodle skirts, neck scarves, bouffant hair, and hushpuppies really did look like something. There was a lot of effort put into that get-up.  But at least it was interesting.  When I look at a picture from the 50's and 60's, I hear Earth Angel. When I see someone in the 20's, I can hear Sweet Georgia Brown.  When I see those long-haired kids from the 70's, I hear the Beatles, or for the other half of my family, when I see those feathered locks hidden under a cowboy hat, I hear Barbara Mandrell and George Jones singing I was country when Country wasn't cool. And when I see a picture of my friends in the 80's, Cindy Lauper is singing Girls Just Want to Have Fun. 
 
    I just wonder, when you look at a picture of my kids in 2013, will you know the decade? Will it be distinct?  Will they have their "thing"?  Will they be proud of their contribution?

    Maybe so.  Maybe it takes stepping away from it for a while.  Maybe the love of the decade happens when some director nostalgic for the 2010's makes a great time period movie.  I don't know.
Or Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe the 2010's have great pizazz that I'm just not seeing because I don't watch Project Runway, and because I'm sitting in a Panera in front of my computer instead of out with the trend-setting world.  Maybe. Maybe not? What do you think? Really, what do you think?  I am blind to trends and fashion.  I am very dull.  So if you are reading this, give me your opinion.

Kisses from Katie - a short book review

I had a list of very interesting topics to write about but I'm in a time crunch today.  I'm not a fast blogger, taking a good hour to create just a few witty, or not so witty, paragraphs, so instead I'll give you a quick glimpse into the book I'm reading right now.  If you are looking for nonfiction, and you want to read about someone young and amazing who completely re-defines what it means to serve the Lord, check out Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis, about an 18-year-old whose mission trip to Uganda turned into a life dedicated to serving the children there, adopting six girls (so far - I'm not done with the book yet).  Her words are so powerful that every night after I read a passage, I highlight it, and then I make Kenny read it too always with the same refrain, "We have to do more!"

If you feel that way - like the work God has planned for you hasn't quite met fruition, then read about Katie.

Here are way too many passages that I've highlighted.  I just love them all.  Hope they put a fire under your feet the way they do mine.
 
Have a beautiful weekend in our gorgeous Texas weather.

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"I am much more terrified of living a comfortable life in a self-serving society and failing to follow Jesus than I am of any illness or tragedy.  Jesus called His followers to be a lot of things, but I have yet to find where He warned them to be safe.  We are not called to be safe, we are simply promised that when we are in danger, God is right there with us.  And there is no better place to be than in His hands."

"I had fantasized about doing something incredible for God and others; what I have learned is that I can do nothing incredible, but as I follow God into impossible situations, He can work miracles in and through me."

"I can enter into someone's pain and sit with them and Know.  This is Jesus.  Not that He apologizes for the hard and the hurt, but that He enters in, He comes with us to the hard places.  And so I continue to enter."

"Disease is certainly not a sin.  And poverty is not a sin; it is a condition, a circumstance that allows God's work to be displayed."

"Helping the poor is not something God asks His people to do; it is something that, throughout all generations, He instructs us to do."

"I strive to teach my children and all children in our program and in our villages 'the truth' of Christ.  I know I cannot walk into a village and tell a child that Jesus loves her.  She cannot comprehend that because, chances are, she has never been loved.  I have to feed her, clothe her, care for her, and love her unconditionally as I tell her that I love.  Once she can understand and see my love, I can begin to tell her about a Savior who loves her even more.  That is the truth for these children - that they are loved, that they are valuable, that they will not be left as orphans but that they have a plan and a hope for a future.  What a beautiful truth."

"I was in the center of God's will; I was doing what I was created to do."

FACETIME ME

     
        Facetime in some form or fashion has been around for awhile - some call it Skype, some call it Web Cam.  We tried it several times throughout the years to video chat with grandparents over the computer, but to be honest, we have never been very good at remembering to do it.  Instead, we pass the phone from kid to kid so each one has a chance to talk, or in some cases when they were very little not talk at all and be prompted by us to, "say something to Mimi, tell her what you did today. Come on, talk."

       In this new world where almost every child I see has some electronic device in his or her hands, this idea of FACETIME is changing.  Not for me - I still don't like to be seen while chatting.  I'm much too self-conscious.  I'm always reminded of the Friends episode when Monica is dating Pete, the millionaire, or trillionaire and while at his house, the phone rings and out pops a live video feed of him talking to her.  Back then, what, just 10 years ago, that was crazy.  That was Star Trek or Star Wars, or Jetsons or whichever futuristic show had video phone calls.  But now, it's so prevalent and fast becoming just part of life.  At least for the my kids.

         Here's the story:
I'm in the car and my cell phone text beeps.  It's a message from a little girl in Lydia's class saying that she was texting from her mini Ipad.
A few minutes later, I get a Facetime request.  I didn't know what to do.  Up until now, we've only received a Facetime call from Grammie.  I passed the phone to Lydia who proceeded to Facetime her friend like a pro.  She talked all the way to our destination.

        The next night, I get the same Facetime request, only at home.  Lydia takes my phone and runs through the house showing her friend her room and her brother's room and her dream lite, and her dinner plate.  She wasn't self-conscious.  She wasn't concerned about minutes.  She wasn't worried about how quickly technology was taking over our lives.  She just knew she had a captive audience on the phone who she could share a glimpse of her little life.  And she did it so proudly.  If it were me, I wouldn't be running around showing off my house.  Instead I'd be apologizing for the stacks of paper, the dust, the dirty clothes.

      I found out later Lydia's friend's mom (catch that) did NOT know she had FACETIME'd her classmate and was in a bit in deep water for it.  I assured the mom that it was innocent, sweet and actually quite entertaining.

    I've always been slow to jump on any technological bandwagon.  Ask my college roommate about that one.  She was the first person I'd ever known to have a computer in her dorm room.  And while she was embarking into this whole world of Electronic Mail, I was proudly calling myself Amish and writing letters.  But now it's 18 or so years later and I've graduated to the world of tech-literate, and I'm okay with it, but I"m not so sure I have in my mom toolbox all the things I need to prepare my kids for what is to come - internet, privacy, safety, parent blocking, social sites, stalkers, etc. etc.  And it may be my college tech phobia coming to the surface, but I will admit, I could take a few Amish-like years in our house.  And while you probably love your Iphone, your Kindle, your Nook or your Ipad and couldn't live without it, I know deep down you might just agree.

The Birds

        If I were to write a list of things that I find fascinating that very few people do, one of my top 5 would be the Birds.  I don't mean the Alfred Hitchcock movie and I don't mean the 1960's psychedelic band spelled The Byrds, but the cluster of black birds or Grackles that meet in specific locations every night at sunset during flocking season.  Ours like to meet on the high wires at the intersection of Broadway and County Road 90.  Where do yours meet? 

        Now I know these are what they call Pest Birds, and they cause numerous problems.  Just checking a webpage called Birdbusters told me that their droppings can cause structural damage to buildings along with the bacteria that can carry disease.  Not good.  

          And yet, when I see the hordes of black birds race from one wire to the next as if they are playing a game of tag, I can't help but roll down my car window and listen to the music.  I always look around at the cars around me to see if the other drivers are as mesmerized by the birds as I am.  I've never seen a single head out a window watching intently as I do.  

       I realize there are drawbacks to the birds, and for people who must work near and park their cars by the nesting sites indeed have reason to call them pests.  And after a trip downtown, where this two second video was taken, I also found out the hard way the downside to birds. If only my camera would have been rolling to catch me with my hand out the window, singing praises to these beautiful grackles and their unified chorus when one of those darlings pooped on my hand.  Just hit the target dead on.  I know that bird must have laughed at unsuspected me.  

      Not so darling now. 

     But I'll forgive this one grievance, and take my chances the next time I sit at the intersection to gawk at those grackles. If you see me, roll down your window.  It's a marvelous sound. 

Celebrating 40 in Style

This weekend, our friend (see if you can spot her in this gussied up bunch) turned 40.  She decided in all her wisdom that a stretch limo would be the best way to transport, safely, a group of us to celebrate in Houston.  No drinking and driving, no caravaning, no parking issues - just pure, over-the-top fun.  We went for sushi, which I didn't hate like I thought I would, and out for a night of dancing (in our heels, no less) at Howl at the Moon.  We ate, we drank and were merry, and very silly.  I felt like a 25-year-old all over again, which wasn't such a bad thing since I too will be climbing over that side of the hill later in the year.  It was nice to dress fancy, to wear lipstick, to admire everyone else's fancy footwear, and to remember what it's like to not be responsible - for just a moment.  Of course this all came crashing down on us early Saturday morning when the alarm went off, much too early, and we had 3 basketball games, 3 picture times to make, and a baseball try-out ahead of us.
 Such is life, but it's so, so good.

Thanks Joyce for a great night out!
& Thank you Kendra for loaning me the (much more hip) shoes.

U - P - W - A - R - D

 

    It's UPWARD season here and I can't believe we're already back around to it.  It seems just a few days ago I was writing about last season's here and here.  And since we're back around to marathons and basketball, that means it has also been a year since I resurrected this blog and started writing about our Ward party of 5 and other random things.  So an anniversary for me. Yea.

      After some pretty lazy time off, we are in the swing of things and devoting our Saturdays to watching kids run up and down a court.  We've also made a few changes.  If you read that first link, you'll see that Lydia was getting her feet wet playing bball with her brother in the driveway.  She liked it enough that with a little encouragement, she went out for basketball this year instead of cheer, which pleased her dad (and me too).  And Lanie, she joined the mix too - she took up her sister's spot to be the littlest cheerleader (with her friend Ella an inch taller), and youngest, and most easily distracted on her squad.  And since Kenny is coaching both Elijah and Lydia's team, it only made sense that I'd round out the Ward involvement by helping coach Lanie's squad.

      Working with these 4 and 5-year-olds has been eye-opening.  I'm pretty sure my strength is not preschool or Kindergarten.  They're cute, yeah, but so fidgeting and need more water breaks than is necessary for even the most athletic competitor.  But, watching my littlest scream (not yell from the diaphragm as cheerleaders are supposed to) but ear-splitting screech into her megaphone and repeat Big G, Little O, GO GO over and over again is enough to melt any grinchy heart.  Not to mention, it gives me a great reason to pull out those old, old VHS cheer tapes.  I haven't yet, but it's bound to happen.

     Elijah has moved into a new basketball bracket.  He's mixed with the 4th graders and the game has taken on such a different feel.  It's so much quicker, and more aggressive with picks and blocks and terms I don't really recall from my one embarrassing 6th grade year playing basketball.  And most important to Elijah, they finally take score - officially with score cards - and not just in the heads of the players (& coaches too).

    When Lydia decided to play, I knew it was a gamble.  Luckily, it has paid off.   She likes the girls on her team who are just as silly as she is and she's learning to be a bit, just a bit, more aggressive.  I asked her the other night if she liked cheerleading or basketball better and she said the latter.  When I pressed her for why, she told me it's because the cheerleaders have to wear turtlenecks and they probably get hot whereas the basketball players get to wear short sleeves are more comfortable. Now, I'm hoping the reasons go beyond the fashion of the game, really I do.  To be honest, I think Lydia just really likes being in a sport with her dad.

Soundbite

Lately we've been discussing with the kids what it might be like for me to go back to work full time.  Lydia's okay with it.  Elijah is not.  Interesting.

I've asked Lanie several times if she'd like to go to school everyday and not "have" to stay home with mom.  She always says no, that she wants to stay home with me or daddy.

But I think this discussion must have been on her mind because yesterday, out of the blue Lanie announced,  "I just like the God stuff at school.  I don't like the learnin' part. And music class is too long."

"What did you say?" I had to repeat her to make sure I heard correctly.

She clarified,  "I just like learning about God, not that other stuff."

What a girl.  That explains her half-hearted desire at writing her ABC's and why when I tried to disguise adding and subtracting cheerios with fun, she figured it out and said, "I don't want to do that stuff" and moved on to playing with her brother's cars (which she has surprisingly taken a liking too.)

Maybe the love of learning will come when she's 5 or 6 or 10 or not until she's 20-years-old. Oh well, what can I do?

I can encourage her.  I can make learning fun.  I can tell her that my basic resume touts that my educational goal is to teach kids life-long learning skills. Will that matter to her?  Not sure.  Check back with  me in a couple of years and we'll see.

Until then, I'll rest assured that at least she's got her priorities straight, and that's okay with me.

Spectators, Prepare Your Children

    

Lydia's note to her dad on the Runner's Wall

In Houston, this is marathon weekend.  It's busy and exciting and it's the one time a year that I wish I could tack on a runners bib and join the thousands who challenge themselves with a 13.1 or 26.2 run or in my case what would be a painful, arduous, long, slow jog. 


     Instead for the 6th marathon season since marrying a runner with high school track team memories, I have played the role of spectator.  And I will pat myself on the back and say that each year, I get just a little bit better.  Of course this year and last were much, much easier as K decided to run "just" the 1/2 marathon.  I say "just" because waiting 2 hours in the cold is cake when compared to the 3 or 4 hours of the full marathon.  And my condolences and admiration go out to my faithful friends who supported their marathon runners today in the rain.

Mile 6 - Kenny running back to tell us he may not make it.

    Of course Kenny wouldn't consider what he did today "just" a 1/2 marathon especially since when we saw him at mile 6, he told me he may have to drop out because something popped in his calf.  We weren't sure what to expect at mile 12. Would he have to call us to pick him up?  Would he stop at a medic tent until someone could drive him to the finish line?  Or would he just tough it out (probably the worse decision) and run on it for 7 more miles.  You can guess what he did -- because we were there 6 miles later right on time to see him half-running, half limping through the drizzling, gray rain.  

       And speaking of the drizzle, this was not an ideal spectator year.  The cold temps may have been good for runners,  but not for a mom and 3 kids who LOVE to complain about the cold.  The wind and the rain didn't help much either and were a test for our tempers and our home-made signs.  At one point, it got really bad.  We were rushing from car to sideline. Lanie was crying to be held because she was cold, Elijah was angry because she was crying, and Lydia lost her scarf.  I thought I came prepared with our winter wear, but it didn't fend off the frozen fingers. 

Look at the sad, sad face.

 

 

  This very kind woman took pity on us and invited us to a volunteer station where we helped ourselves to hot chocolate and donuts.  Nevermind that the morning began with a trip to the donut shop for chocolate milk and donuts.  At that point, I wouldn't have turned down anything.

For the  love of hot chocolate.

 And that little bit of love was just enough to lift our spirits as we cheered on dad for the last time.  It didn't last long though.  One moment they are saying, "We Saw Him! He made it!" and without hesitation, "Can we go now?"  I'm not sure if I'm raising true running fans.  But they are at least devoted to their dad. 

Mile 12 - still trekking

     After a fight with road closures and increased parking lot prices, we found our $6 lot, and tromped through the puddles (at least Lanie did), stopping at a port-a-potty on the way and finally reached the finish line where we waited to hug our wet, tired and limping runner.  

Finish Line

Small Victories

It's very late, but I didn't want to go to sleep until I documented Lanie's small victory.  If you are close to our family, you are very, very well aware that Lanie has an, um, pee problem.  I talk about it a lot, sorry. She's well over 4-years-old and just can't seem to hold her bladder.  We were in Target last week and in the hour and 1/2 that we were there, we had to scurry up to the restrooms, FIVE times.  It's a problem.  And for the past 6 months, I can't remember a day when she didn't change undies 2, 3, 4 or more times.  Poor girl.  She's been pricked, tested, gone through ultra-sounds, seen a kidney specialist, all to find out that internally, she's fine.  It's just one of those things.  And when I look back over the past year with her and the anger I've had at her lack of control, or my impatience with her inconvenient wet pants, I am not proud of myself.  I've read the books and I've talked to the doctor who tells me to focus on the positive, to ignore the behavior, to recognize that this is her thing she has to figure out.  And all I can do is be patient and wait. 

And wait, and wait, and wait some more.  I have definitely begun to scold her less for ignoring the "gotta go now" signs and we've started to just assume it will happen.  How many times a day do I ask her, "wet or dry?"  Or how many times a day do I say, "Go potty, Lanie" only for her to respond with, "I don't have to"  only to watch her change clothes a few minutes later.  And how often do we get on the road to go somewhere only to have to pull off to a gas station or more often, a grassy roadside.  It's certainly not the most fun kid problem to have, but I know it could be worse. 

With that said, that's why this day was pretty special.  Lanie wore the same Princess underwear all day.  All day!  And she was so grown up.  Helpful and fun and easy-going.  So different from what we've coined, "the spirited child."  Granted, I still did a lot of reminding her, but the end result - a great day. 

I've had this Ariel doll up in my closet since I bought it cheap last Spring.  I've just been waiting for some reason to give it to her.  When I saw that there was a good chance she might accomplish it, I told her I had something special "if" she could make it to the end of the day.  Usually, those kind of bribes don't motivate her.  She forgets there's a prize at the end so she stops trying.  Today though, she was a different girl.  Maybe because it was just me and her spending time together, without distraction, I don't know, but I saw a little bit of the responsible girl I know she can be peeking through.  It was nice.  And I wasn't impatient or uptight or in a hurry.  A very good day.

So right before bed, as she's finally changing those princess undies, she says, "Ew, yucky underwear I've had on all day."  That made me laugh really hard especially as Lydia is explaining to her that most people only wear one pair a day.  In the end, she got her Ariel that she completely deserved and loved.

I have no idea what will happen tomorrow. It may go back to the multiple clothes changes we're so very used to and that's fine.  We'll get there. But, today was a great glimpse.

Can't Complain

Today ALL THE KIDS are in school.  Ah.  After so much time with the kids home, it's a bit strange to have some quiet space to work in.  Lanie will be home tomorrow and Friday due to all her teachers going to a conference so I'm taking advantage of this one day to do more job searching.   I'm sitting at my desk listening to the rain that will never end.  The house is dark and ominous save for my one big desk light.  I have sent one "I'm interested" email, emailed one resume, took a very random English/Math assessment test for a fellowship position, and got one call for an interview.  It all seems so surreal.  I can't say that any of the positions that I have been applying for, scream ME but to be honest, I'm not so sure I know what job would be ME anyway.  It's been too long. I haven't been to work on a daily basis in 6 years.  How did 6 years go so fast?  And why did these 6 years seem so much like work?  I think some lie went around back in 2006 when I made this monumental decision to quit teaching, and maybe I believed it, that stay-at-home mom's have it easy.  Something about soap operas and bon bons.
    Granted, I have been able to hang out in my pjs a lot more than your regular Sally along with a long line of pluses that involve watching my kids grow up and me getting teary about it and writing long blog posts to commemorate it.  I can't complain.  So forgive me if I do complain -- but this going back to work thing is a lot harder than I thought it would be.  I keep meeting people who have stumbled into these fabulous jobs all because someone thought of them as talented.  Oh, the Lord knows there's something I'm good at, I'm just waiting to stumble into it.  
   In the meantime, I'll keep researching, and inquiring, and send, send, sending.  And when that gets boring, I'll go back to what is really fun -- writing about those kids that let me hang out in my pjs and (to connect the picture) who admire their mom so much (fancy job or not) that they want to dress up like her especially when she the look is so librarian-ish.  Imitation is definitely the strongest form of flattery. 

Candy Bar Sales = Character

          I feel like I'm skipping over Winter sports by writing this post, but Little League Baseball does not wait for Spring.  Even though the season doesn't start for a few months, this Saturday was sign up day which means Elijah got his box of World's Finest Chocolates & raffle tickets to sell.  If it were me, if I had to sell that chocolate, I would procrastinate to the last minute.  In fact, I was that elementary kid, many, many years ago only I sold Girl Scout cookies and calendars (back when Girl Scouts sold calendars).  And unlike today where the new way of selling anything is for the parent to email their friends and send links to the product, we actually had to go door to door to door to door to door.  Some of my girl scout friends had parents who would take their cookie sheet to work with them.  I was a bit unfortunate. My dad could do that but my mom worked at the Girl Scout Council where every woman there could grab a free box of thin mints at their whim. There was no way I was selling Ho-Downs and Scot Tees there (those are both old cookies that aren't sold anymore - just checking to see who may remember them?)

      I have many, many memories of walking the streets, so to speak, with a parent in the car, slowly keeping track of me.  I have one vivid memory where my friend Lisa and I were selling calendars door to door and I have to share it because it's the kind of story we told over & over.   Lisa and I were in a neighborhood we didn't know well.  I think my piano teacher may have lived nearby.  We were tired and very silly. I recall we hadn't sold much and were ready to throw in the towel but mom was waiting at the end of the street and we had several houses to go.  We knocked on this one a door and no one answered, then knocked again.  We were about to leave when this elderly woman came to the door.  We asked her if she would like to buy a calendar, pocket or wall-sized, and I'll never forget this, in her loudest voice she said, "For Crying Out Loud, why do I need one of those?"  It's the "crying out loud" part that had us in stitches.  Of all the ways to answer a door  -- just cracks me up.  That phrase made it, in some form or fashion into most of our conversations for the next ten years.

      Because I tend to think that what was character building for me, must be character-building for my kids, I was more than happy to walk the sidewalk while Elijah sold his candy bars.  What a great way to practice speaking to adults, looking them in the eye, and at times, being told no.  Sunday was such a pretty day that we made this little sales trip a family affair.  Kenny and I walked and chatted, and Elijah and his sisters, who were such diligent helpers holding boxes and raffle tickets, went door to door. 

     We did have to help Elijah with his first sales pitch.  At our next-door neighbors who we knew would be generous, Elijah said, "You want some chocolates?" 

      After this, his pitch became a bit more professional but still so funny.  After explaining that he was selling chocolate for Pearland Little League, without taking a breath or giving the neighbor a chance to say yea or nay, Elijah would start reading off all the different types of bars, "we have milk chocolate, and caramel, and this one is crispy, and that one's dark almond, and plain almond and continental almonds."  Of course he mispronounced almond as AL - mond which was about the cutest thing. 

     For whatever reason, whether it was his sales pitch, his cute little sisters, or because the people on our street can't resist chocolate, the candy was gone within two hours and Elijah had a wad of dollars that I'm pretty sure he was disappointed he couldn't keep.  We still have raffle tickets if anyone reading this is interested in winning a big Silverado truck.

    I know E was pretty satisfied with himself, and I can't hide that I'm proud of his go-get-um attitude.  And while he may not have suffered through a difficult "For Crying Out Loud" response to his candy request, I still think he had his character built just a little bit more.

Top Ten Things Kids Really Want Their Parents to Do With Them

After writing about our 2 week, lazy break, I stumbled upon this article through Pinterest.  It caught my interest because it is about a mom who was dedicating herself to being a Hands Free mom, which basically means, she wanted to be totally present with her kids and not distracted by email/Facebook updates/to-do lists, etc.  Since I feel like I can be a completely distracted mom, opting out of that video game with Elijah, or half-heartedly playing Barbies, or telling the kids to "wait, just a minute" so many times they grow tired, this article hit a big nerve.  I am not posting it all, but thought if anyone else feels similar guilt, they might like to read one part that I'm copying from the blog by Rachel Macy Stafford. I skip around a little for the sake of length so you may want to go to the site yourself to read it all.

I thought it was worth reading.  Maybe you will too.
Enjoy!
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 We ALL want to do the things that matter to our children in the precious time we are given. In other words, we want to do the things that will stick with them, shape them, and cause them to look back on their childhood with happiness.

So what exactly are the things that kids remember? Would you believe there is a list of such items derived from children themselves?

When I stumbled on this list of what kids love their parents to do, I felt as if I discovered the proverbial pot of gold at the end of a “Hands Free” rainbow. . . .

A wise teacher named Erin Kurt happened to have the insight to ask her students what they most liked their parents to do with them. She asked this same question every year for 16 years and from these responses she revealed, “The Top 10 Things Kids Want From Parents.”

Be prepared to be surprised.

Be prepared to be hopeful.

Be prepared to give yourself a celebratory high five, because the news is good, my friends.

And if you are like me, you might even have unexpected tears. Because the things your kids will remember are a lot easier to do than we often overly-pressured parents have been led to believe. And you might already be doing some of them.

The Top Ten Things Kids Really Want Their Parents To Do With Them

1. Come into my bedroom at night, tuck me in and sing me a song. Also tell me stories about when you were little.
2. Give me hugs and kisses and sit and talk with me privately.
3. Spend quality time just with me, not with my brothers and sisters around.
4. Give me nutritious food so I can grow up healthy.
5. At dinner talk about what we could do together on the weekend.
6. At night talk to me about about anything; love, school, family etc.
7. Let me play outside a lot.
8. Cuddle under a blanket and watch our favorite TV show together.
9. Discipline me. It makes me feel like you care.
10. 10. Leave special messages in my desk or lunch bag.

Isn’t it simple?

Isn’t it beautiful?

Isn’t it achievable?

This list inspires me so much that I taped it to my fridge. It serves as a reminder that it’s the small things we do as parents that mean the most, and it is those very same things that our kids will remember when they are grown.

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Lazy Vacation Days: the stuff of Dreams

Notice the PJs and unkempt hair - one of those great days!

      We have an unusual Christmas break this year.  Instead of going back to school like most everyone else did today, we don't return until next week.  This is great for those people who are traveling, who have family in town, who have great things lined up to do.  But, unfortunately we don't.  Every night when getting ready for bed, I tell Kenny, "I have no idea what to do tomorrow."  And I don't.  We wake up late, we stay in our pjs, we watch TV, play board games and the kids are on their own while I try to take down Christmas decorations or as I try to purge (see old post) more and more things. 
      It doesn't help that I've been sick for over a week with a frustrating cold that has my ribs hurting from all the coughing. It's not enough sickness to keep me in bed because everyone knows you're only allowed a daytime snooze when you have a fever of 101, but it's just enough to make me a bit miserable.  But, lucky for the kids, instead of being a cranky patient, I am one easy-going mom.  Sure, you can watch a movie.  Sure, you can make your own lunch of cheese sticks and cheez-its.  Sure, we can go to Petsmart and buy a fish.  Sure,  you can play that video game again and again. 
Lydia asked me one day, "Why are you being so nice?"  Ouch. 
     One particular day we decided to try out everything we got new.  So, the kids made SNOW in a Can, Kenny made Yogurt popsicles, Elijah made root beer, and the girls made somewhat gross pretzel sticks with the Easy Bake Oven that required way too much supervision on my part. But it was somewhat satisfying to do all the activities instead of putting the gifts in a pile for a rainy day.  At our house this whole week has been treated as one rainy, cold day.  And while I hate having that pesky cough, I kind of like the slow-living. 
       These certainly aren't the Christmas vacation days of dreams (for most people.) And I feel bad for my kids when they get back to school and have to write an essay on "What I did over Christmas break" (do they still do that ?) but when I look back at my childhood Christmas breaks, we didn't take grandiose trips, we didn't go on far-out adventures with our time off either. Some years we traveled to see family, while other years we stayed put.  We hung out.  Friends came over. I played Atari. We played in our pajamas.  I braided my sister's hair.  We played card games, mostly Spite & Malice (who knows that one?), We watched Christmas specials.  I read corny pre-teen love stories way into the night. We ate lots of junk food. 
      I loved it then.  I still love it now.  We spend most of our year going, going, going, working on such little sleep that these two and a half weeks of merely nothing truly is the stuff of Christmas dreams. 
      

Happy New Year!

 My New Year was brought in with friends, loud kids, screaming, dancing, noise-makers, fireworks, and an unexpected kiss.  May your 2013 be just as joyful (but with less screaming) and full of unexpected sweetness.