Are We There Yet?

In the Good Old Summer Time

2011-03-29T12:14:00.003-05:00

Last July, as I recall it, was hot. Looking at my calendar from that month, I see that Mom was in the thick of doctor appointments and chemotherapy. She was committed to the chemo, but Iwish she hadn't done it. It made her so sick and SO not herself. When the cancer was discovered, the lung tumor was quite large and it had spread to her liver and bones. She was in a lot of pain in her back, and I'm glad her doctor was committed to providing her with all the pain relief she needed, but the chemo didn't make anything better. I hope I have the courage to ask my doctors the difficult questions should I find myself in a similar situation.

Anyhoo.

The highlight of last July was the trip to Salt Lake City with Olivia to participate in a week-long harp intensive. I LOVE driving trips and I adore one-on-one time with my kids! Olivia was performing in a summer theater production the weekend before the harp institute, so I drove first to Colorado Springs to stay a couple of days with my dearest and bestest friend ever, and then on to Salt Lake City where I collected my girl from the airport when she flew in ALL BY HERSELF. Well, of course, there was a pilot or two, some flight attendants and assorted other personages, but MY BABY GOT ON A PLANE BY HERSELF. She flew as a 'UM', unaccompanied minor, so she was shepherded and supervised by airline personnel, but, when she got off the plane, you'd have thought I was snatching her from the jaws of death the way I grabbed her and kissed her whole face. Which, as you can guess, she LOVED. Or not.

The Salt Lake City trip was a really nice time for us. Olivia spent her days playing harp with girls from all over the country and we spent our evenings with some generous family friends who showed us around and kept us company. Some of the highlights:

Driving to Colorado Springs and then to Salt Lake City by myself was one of the coolest things I've ever done. I think I need to do something like this once a year or so just for good measure.

Olivia got permission from her father to ride on a DONOR CYCLE with his childhood friend Hoss (who goes by Andrew and is now a Utah Highway Patrol Officer. Whatever.). I followed them in my 4-door, fully enclosed CAR all the way to The Great Salt Lake, and then to some canyon. For the record, the mama in this scenario was not in favor. Not that it mattered.

Most of our days were spent in rooms that looked like this:

The concert on the final day looked like this:

80+ harps on one stage. It was beautiful!

We took the southern route home from Salt Lake and stopped by a little crack in the ground

And then we were home. And then things began to unravel at an alarming pace. How kind of God to give me a week and a half of calm and beauty and rest and peace.

June, 2010

2011-03-23T23:38:00.002-05:00

Last June's page on the calendar is pretty bare. We made up a couple of missed parenting classes for our foster care certification. I took Mom to her doctor appointments and the older girls' mother/daughter book clubs each met that month. The main even of June, 2010 happened on Sunday the 27th when we went to Dan's hometown to celebrate his grandparents' 70th wedding anniversary.

I am blessed to have married into a Christian family. I am grateful to Harold and Dorothy for the heritage of faith that my children enjoy. I know that they pray for each member of their (now quite large!) family by name every day. To my great shame, there are days that go by when I don't even pray for my own children by name. It is humbling to think of these two believers, now in their 90's, holding us up in daily prayer. Lord, may we walk worthy.

We don't see Dan's extended family much any more. I'm really glad we took to opportunity to be with them last June. It would have been even better if I'd taken even ONE stinkin' picture. Missed photo opportunities are the bane of my existence. That and people who say "nuke-yew-lur".

Looking back. Again.

2011-03-23T00:40:00.002-05:00

May, 2010 was a busy month. Beginning with the last week of April, we had the Oklahoma Homeschool Conventions. Plural. As in, we did TWO of 'em. Dan and I serve on the Board of Trustees for the Oklahoma Christian Home Educators' Consociation which has as its mission to equip and encourage current and potential home educating families in Oklahoma. Way back in the summer of '09 it sounded like a good idea to host a satellite convention in Tulsa during the week preceding our usual OKC event. By spring of '10 that idea was beginning to look a little overwhelming, but we did it. Set up in Tulsa on Monday, Convention in Tulsa on Tuesday and Wednesday, take down on Wednesday night to set up in OKC on Thursday and have Convention in OKC on Friday and Saturday, take down on Saturday and collapse into a heap by Sunday.

Guess what?

We're doing it again. This time the midweek event is in OKC (whoa, Nellie! the pushback we got for moving the OKC event!) and the weekend event is in Tulsa. We have just over a month until the conventions and the amount of administrative and logistic work that remains to be done is daunting to say the least. But, you know what? It will all come together. Or it won't. Either way, the sun will come out and the earth will turn. We will work and plan and fix and pray. We will plant and water and trust God for the increase. It won't be perfect, and people will complain to us about the most inane, unchangeable things, but we will enjoy each other and learn some stuff and resolve to make it all even better next year.

Lots of changes in the convention format this year, but my favorite one is that first-time adult attendees can come for free! If you live in Oklahoma and you've never attended an OCHEC homeschool convention, please come as our guest. Details are on the OCHEC website (link above and in the sidebar). Even if you're just curious about homeschooling, we hope you'll pay us a visit and give us a chance to answer your questions.

I'm particularly excited because I invited Mary from Owlhaven to speak to our attendees about all the stuff she's so good at and SHE ACCEPTED! She's doing two workshops at each Convention! I'm working on arrangements for a blog meetup or two just for folks who love Mary and love blogging and want an excuse to get together. So whether you're coming to the convention or not, if you're in Tulsa or OKC and would be interested in a meetup the last week of April, let me know.

In other year-old news, we began our preparations to be certified as foster parents last May. In October, I brought 8-day-old baby J home from the NICU. He's still with us and is a pure joy! His life is very complicated, but he hasn't the faintest notion. He just coos and squeals and grins his way through every day being the darling of the household. We wait and pray for God's provision of a forever family, grateful for the opportunity to love and nurture this delightful boy. He's a little under the weather these days, so this mama needs to get to bed in case the wee one needs attention in the night.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Wonder if I should just wait another couple of weeks?

2011-03-20T21:34:00.003-05:00

Hello. I'm Dana. This is my blog. I last updated it 50 weeks ago. Part of me thinks I should wait another two weeks to blow the dust of the old thing, but the other part of me is sitting in the comfy chair in the bedroom, feeling the effects of a looooong Sunday afternoon nap. So, fueled by the two Braum's ice cream sandwiches I had for supper (not with supper, FOR supper), I'm feeling chatty.

Now, while I guess I don't really need to account for the entire YEAR that has passed since I wrote last, I think I do want to do a little catch-up just to get some things down in writing. Let me see now...I last posted in April, 2010. A look at my calendar and photo folder for that month tells me that we were just living life...planning the homeschool convention, going to birthday parties, winding up our homeschool year...the usual.

The thing that sticks out from that month happened on April 24. I'll get to that in a minute.

If you go back a post or two here on the blog, you will read that Mom had been diagnosed with lung cancer last winter. While it made me very sad, I must say that I expected it. My mom began smoking at age 17 or so. When I was 18, Mom's dad died of emphysema. We literally watched him waste away and essentially drown. When Mom continued to smoke after Grandad died, I knew that something similar lay down the road for her, and that my future children (there would be three, all girls, with rhyming names) would likely someday watch their grandmother die a horrible death. Have I mentioned my adolescent proclivity for the morose?

Fast forward 25 years, and there we were. The day Mom called with the definite diagnosis, I clearly remember thinking, "Okay. It's happening." When we hung up, I prayed, "God, please let this be the thing that causes Mom to fully trust in Your saving power. I can live 40 years here without her much easier if I know she's eternally Yours."

Back in 2006, my stepdad died suddenly. Mom came home from work to find that he had passed away at some point in the afternoon. In the weeks that followed, we had some good talks. She told me that she regretted that she'd never been baptized and asked if a certain pastor friend of mine might talk to her about that sometime. I spoke with him and of course he agreed to meet with her any time. I gave her the number, but she never used it. She didn't bring the subject up again until after her diagnosis. This time, I made the call for her. As I spoke with our pastor friend, I gave him some of our family history and what I knew of my mom's spiritual history. He went to visit her and found no reason that she shouldn't be baptized. I so appreciated his faithfulness to the Lord and to his calling; I knew he wouldn't just go through some motions to make a sick lady feel better for a moment.

On April 24, 2010, surrounded by several believing members of our family (some who had come from out of state!), my sweet, sick mama was tenderly baptized by our dear family friend.

This is Mom in December, '09. She came with us to see Santa and help the kids pick out their annual Christmas ornaments.

And here she is just 4 months later, on the day of her baptism.

She died just four months after that, on August 8, 2010. I miss her every day. The rest of my days here will be a little lonesome, but that's alright. They are nothing more than a vapor; my real life, and my sweet Mama, are with Christ in Heaven. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

I'm Aware!

2010-04-02T12:52:00.004-05:00

I wish I could wear your eyes for a day.
Hear what is rattling around in your ears.
Know what is grabbing your thoughts.
Understand what makes you giggle, and why you’re crying.

Opening lines to the poem "For Jack"; visit Finding Jackson to read the whole poem.

It's World Autism Awareness Day. I didn't even know such a thing existed. My world is aware of autism every day, thanks to my beautiful Seth. To honor all of the families who are trying to love and teach and train and reach these quirky kids, I offer a Seth Story:

A couple of weeks ago at our homeschool co-op, one of the moms told me she had nominated Seth for one of the weekly awards given by the campus director. Then she told me why.

It seems that Seth encountered a maintenance man patching and painting some dings in the walls in the nursery area of the church. He stood a little too close, and leaned down a little too far over the man's shoulder, and the man just kept on working. After several minutes, Seth said, "You sure are doing a good job with that."

"Well, thank you, young man!" was the response.

"Is that 'encouraging speech'?" Seth wanted to know.

"Why, yes! Yes it is!" the man said, looking at Seth, who was characteristically averting his eyes.

"I'm working on telling encouraging speech," Seth informed him, before ambling away.

When Seth was diagnosed with "moderate to severe classic childhood autism" at just less than 3 years of age, a dialog like the one above was considered to be categorically out of the question. We've been blessed with the very best education and help, amazing therapists, and the desire and ability to home educate, but all credit, praise, honor and glory for every accomplishment large and small belongs solely to the One who saw Seth's unformed being in my womb, and wrote down every day ordained for him before one of them came to be.

To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.

Jude 24-25

What Would YOU Have Done?

2010-03-19T23:13:00.002-05:00

It's the day before The Blizzard of the Decade. Again. Conveniently though, today's high was 70º, making it not only possible, but, in my opinion mandatory to expose the progeny to fresh air and sunshine and citified waterfowl. We went downtown, ate lunch outside next to a fountain. That was super fun. If by "super fun" I am understood to mean "whose idea was it to bring the toddler downtown, untethered, at lunch time, during Big XII basketball playoffs?" We left the fountain area and went to feed the ducks, geese, and a few fish. It was super fun. See extrapolation of "super fun" above, and add water. And goose poop. It will be nice when those Clues I won on eBay finally arrive...

Speaking of eBay, it is dead to me. By way of explanation, I got a little moolah for my birthday and I decided that I wanted a particular purse. Or, I thought I did. I found the purse, bid on it and won it. Then it got here and I loved it not. Oh it was all "item as described" and "super-great condition A++++++++", but we just didn't mesh. So I turned around and put it back up for sale. I had bid against about 4 other people down to the last few seconds, so of course selling it for what I'd paid (or more...probably MORE!) would be no problem. And it went fine. Except for the problems. It sold twice, fell through twice and finally sold for the third time. For 37% less than I'd paid. Not that I'm keeping track. I gave away over a third of my birthday money. Blergh.

OCHEC Board of Trustees meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. So is the BotD. Will we meet? Will we postpone? How late is too late to cancel the catered lunch I ordered? You see the besetting difficulties with which I wrestle.

Here's your procedural politics lesson for the day. You're welcome.

Aaaand, GO!

2010-03-18T00:29:00.002-05:00

I'm up too late, and my unplugged laptop has 19 minutes of battery left, so I'm doing what any sane person would do: updating my blog.

Just a few things to say before I call it a day...

Thanks so much for your kind words, thoughts, and prayers for our family and for my mom. We don't know anything more yet, so we're waiting, trusting and loving. It's kind of what we do best.

The Homeschool Moms' Winter Summit was incredible! The love and grace and all the real was almost more than I could bear. My first presentation was alright, but I went over by more than 10 minutes. Grrr. I was so disappointed because I really really hate speakers that do not know when to shut up. My second presentation felt very all-over-the-place and wonky. I know why, but I can't decide if I'm brave enough to spill that particular can of beans on the old blog...maybe in a year or six when it starts to be more funny than ridiculous and pathetic.

My dear, real-life friend Tracy is having a miracle delivered tomorrow. It has been years (6? I think?) and tears in coming, and tomorrow's the day. I'm excited for my friend and for her family, but is it okay to say that I'm kind of excited for me? That what I really need right now, for a lot of reasons, is to witness the awesome power of our loving God and to have a front row seat, watching with hope-filled eyes and tear-stained cheeks as "all the promises of God in Him are Yes, and in Him Amen, to the glory of God" through my precious friends. I'm so grateful that God is too big to be fathomed by my finite mind. I'm also grateful that He allows a glimpse now and then. There, my friends, is comfort.

Lastly, my handsome, brainy, God-fearing, family-loving, awesome nephew has a blog. The pictures are amazing. He's 20, a hard-working husband and dad, a student, and a captivating photographer. Warning: the pictures of my grand-niece will make your ovaries hurt. Don't say you weren't warned.

Who Feels Like Prayin'?

2010-03-11T14:03:00.003-06:00

So, tomorrow and Saturday I'll be here. I am praying that there will be a lot of mamas from all over our state that come to listen, learn, and be blessed. And I'm also praying that they will have the collective need to visit the Necessary Room between 1:15 and 1:45 and again from 3ish to 4ish on Saturday, because that's when I'm scheduled to speak. Here's how I'm feelin' about that:

If you think of it, would you mind to ask the Lord to keep sweat from running down the backs of my legs and pooling in my shoes? Also, it would be a grace gift if I could keep the 'ah's and 'uhm's to a number somewhat below the amount of my current library fine.

Insert clever segue here...we've got a meeting tonight in Tulsa about the homeschool convention our state homeschool organization is hosting there. Time's growin' short, and it's starting to get really exciting. If you live in/near Tulsa, we'd love to have you drop in April 27-28. The Oklahoma City convention is the following Friday and Saturday, April 30 and May 1. It'll be a busy week, but it will be fun. It's like a family reunion minus the weird cousins and warm macaroni salad.

And there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just put it out there. My precious mother and dearest friend has been diagnosed with lung cancer. As you all know, I have extensive medical knowledge and hold an MD from Google University. Sometimes the Google, it is not our friend. Mom is blessed to have a doctor that she likes and trusts, and we're still in the information gathering stage, but it's hard. There was a biopsy this morning and she'll have a PET scan soon, so we're hoping to have a plan as soon as all the test results are in. There is a lot that we don't know, but it seems to me that the most important things are already known:

God is sovereign and in complete control. As Corrie Ten Boom would say, "There is no panic in heaven. God has no problems, only plans."

He has promised never to leave or forsake us.

There is not a disease so awful that it can take Mom's life one second before God has ordained for it to end. There is not a doctor or a treatment powerful enough to keep her here one second beyond when God has ordained for her to go. This article by John Piper has been an inspiration. It's worth the read if you have a minute, and, let's face it: if you weren't beside yourself with boredom, would you be here? That's what I thought.

Pray with me, won't you, for the comfort and guidance of the Holy Spirit, and the grace to endure whatever is ahead with gratitude.

What's NOT in My Crock Pot?

2010-02-22T09:49:00.002-06:00

Connie wants to know what's in all of our Crock Pots. And since I'm more in the mood to blog about what's in my Crock Pot than I am to, say, fold laundry, here I am posting for the second whole day in a row. I'll pause here for a minute while you catch your breath from all the successive-days-of-blogging-ing.

So, here we go. Crock Pot. The real question is what's NOT in my Crock Pot?

Pot Roast

1 beef roast

1 can condensed cream of mushroom soup

1 envelope onion soup mix

2T corn starch

1/4c water

If you thought ahead and thawed the roast in the fridge overnight, then you can rub the roast with minced garlic and sear it in a pan on the stovetop before placing in the crock pot. If you're me, you plunk a frozen cow-brick into the crock pot and call it good. Either way, then you mix the mushroom soup and onion soup mix (no need to add water), and smear it over the roast. Cover and cook on low 6 to 8 hours (closer to 8 for the cow-brick). Remove the roast to a platter, pour the juices into a sauce pan and warm over medium heat. Stir 2T corn starch into 1/4c cold water. Whisk into meat juices and stir constantly until slightly thickened. Serve with mashed potatoes or egg noodles or rice or Ding Dongs, depending on the time of the month.

BBQ Round Steak

2# or so of round steak, cut into serving-size pieces

2c of your favorite BBQ sauce (bottled or homemade...we like Head Country)

Brown the steak portions lightly if you like, but you don't have to. Depends on whether you have a kid assigned to kitchen duty to clean up the extra pan. Place round steak portions in the Crock Pot and cover with BBQ sauce. Cover and cook on LOW 6 hours or longer. Sometimes I serve these with mashed taters, sometimes with buns for BBQ sandwiches. Sometimes with Ding Dongs. See above.

Apple Butter

4# or so sweet apples (I use half Gala and half Fuji)

4t cinnamon

1/2t cloves

Wash apples and remove stems. Slice apples into wedges (or the shape that makes you happy), and fill the crock pot until the lid will barely fit. I overfill by 1/2" or so, because they cook down so far. Cook on LOW 12 hours or overnight, or until someone says, "Hey. What's all the brown stuff in the crock pot?" Remove the lid and blend the apples with an immersible (stick) blender until smooth. Stir in spices. leave the lid off, set on HIGH and let the apples reduce another 8-12 hours. I lay a tea towel or piece of cheesecloth over the crock pot to discourage the addition of Monopoly pieces, jacks, or other non-traditional enhancements. Stir occasionally. When the apples are the consistency of softened butter, take a little sample. If you'd like 'em a little sweeter, add white or brown sugar to taste, stir well and let cook another hour or so. Ladle into prepared 4oz. or 8oz. canning jars. Sealed jars are good for months. Unsealed jars should be refrigerated and eaten within a week or so.

For most of my Crock cooking, I use these. When I need Crock Pot inspiration, I go here, and this is my favorite Crock Pot cook book.

Thanks for stopping by! Happy Crocking!

I Could Be the Tamer

2010-02-21T22:09:00.003-06:00

Claire keeps us laughing ALL. THE. TIME. Thought you guys would appreciate this story from last week...

Setting: MomMobile

Cast of Characters: Mom, Claire

Claire: You know that doo-doo-doo-DOOT doo-DOOT song?...Mom? Do you know it? It's the song on Pink Panther. doo-doo-doo-DOOT doo-DOOT?

Mom: Mmmhmm

Claire: We have enough people in our family to play that song. We could play it if we had some tubas.

Mom: I think they used saxophones.

Claire: Yeah. Those are just like tubas. So, we should all get inster-mints. We would probably know how to hold the inster-mints, but we might have to learn how to wiggle our fingers over the holes to make doo-doo-doo-DOOT doo-DOOT. You know that Pink Panther song, right? doo-doo-doo-DOOT doo-DOOT.

Mom: Mmmhmm

Claire: And you could be the Tamer. You know, the Tamer, right Mom? The one who stands at the front and doesn't have a inster-mint, but just shakes a stick up and down? The Tamer? You could be the Tamer.

Mom: Mmmhmm

Claire: doo-doo-doo-DOOT doo-DOOT doo-DOOT doo-DOOT doo-DOOT doo-DOOT doo-DOOOOOOOOT doodlie-doot-doot...

We now return you to your regularly-scheduled programming, already in progress...

I Haven't Got Time For the Pain

2009-12-05T23:54:00.002-06:00

Just over a month ago, I rounded up all the kids I could find that share my gene pool and curious hairline. I bathed them, coiffed them and dressed them in quasi-coordinated clothing culled from the backs of closets, the clearance racks and GapKids (I was desperate). We enjoyed a merry jaunt to my in-laws' home where the only sounds in the MomMobile were the dulcet tones of children bickering over the proper pronunciation of carmel/caramel, accompanied by my desperate pleas that they not wrinkle their clothes, take off their shoes or touch anyone's hair, and occasional shrieks from the little bald one that just discovered volume. We arrived at the in-laws' and began the process of taking family portraits in their lovely garden. We took off our shoes because we're hip and oh-so-casual. Christian and Holly of Prints Charming Photography were veritable fountains of patience and enthusiasm, and things were progressing nicely in the fading light of a warm, early November evening.

While moseying, as we hip/casual types are inclined to do, from an open grassy spot to the wooden deck I happened to step on an exposed tree root. I heard and felt a POP and then I saw little cartoon birdies. And then I took a deep breath and kept right on posin' and smilin' and moving a certain 13-year-olds bangs out of her eyes (what is WITH that?). We finished the portrait session, gathered our stuff and our progeny, and went to our FAVORITE pizza place for dinner to celebrate all of the Me Not Killing One Of The Kids As A Warning To The Others. After dinner (which was, to coin a phrase, a little slice of pure heaven on a Chicago-style crust), I stood up. Then I sat down. The birdies were back, and they had brought stars. The hot burning searing throbbing aching poking pain in my right foot made me wonder if I hadn't pulled a little somethin' when I stepped on that silly little tree root.

We deposited the kids at home, charged the older girls with getting the younger kids ready for bed and decided that nothing sounded nicer than a little visit to our friendly neighborhood after-hours clinic. The x-ray showed no broken bones, so I was instructed to see a podiatrist. The next day, Dr. Walker (not kidding) confirmed the no broken bones, and said helpfully that "it would be better if you had broken something." He gave me a lovely black boot and offered me a prescription for pain relief, which I declined (I later recanted and he hooked me up). He wrote orders for me to have ultrasound therapy and to told me to make an appointment to see him in 3 weeks.

Blah, blah, blah, time passes, and here we are, 4 1/2 weeks and a very uncomfortable MRI (birdies!) later, I've been diagnosed with "a very stubborn tendonitis" (I've always been an over achiever) and a bone bruise. The tendon is swollen and frayed, but not entirely torn, and the bone is deeply bruised but not broken. More physical therapy, trying to get around a little bit without the boot and praying to fall into a deep sleep for, oh, 8 to 12 weeks.

On the bright side, the pictures are pretty good, considering what the photographers had to work with.

Thanks, Y'all

2009-11-17T11:04:00.003-06:00

I feel that it is time to update the Blog World on my hair. I read every comment on this post, and thank each and every one of you for taking the time to share my dilemma. I went about 3 months without coloring, and had my hairdresser cut it as short as I could stand it. I tried to love it, I really did, but I just couldn't do it. My hubby's hair, though a touch thinner than back in the day, is still as dark brown as ever. I started to feel a little haggard with my wiry gray outgrowth, especially when standing next to my handsome, dark-haired honey. So I gave in and went back to the brownish with blondish-y highlights. I can't thank you enough for your input.

Need a Sitter?

2009-11-16T13:28:00.003-06:00

I'm blessed that our two older girls are such loving and capable sitters. It frees me up to indulge in all manner decadence, namely, going by myself to my Girlie Parts Doctor and having hot dates with Dan that usually end at Target. Actually, to be honest, we haven't had a date that ended at Target since January 26, 2008, when I picked up a pregnancy test on a lark and, behold, we now have a 14-month-old lark. As an aside, by all appearances, this post is sponsored by Commas R Us. Or possibly The Society for the Advancement of the Overuse of the Parenthetical Statement.

Where was I? Oh. Sitters.

There was a time when I was consumed with envy over my friends who had either younger siblings or older children who acted as on-call sitters. These carefree moms could grab their purses, toss a "Back in a few!" over their shoulders and leave the house without two diaper bags, a double stroller, and a change of clothes for every member of the household just to go buy stamps. THAT was livin'! Someday, I sighed...

With 18- and 13-year-old daughters at home, that dream is now my reality. The girls provide excellent care, supervision and nutrition to their younger siblings, engaging them in educational pursuits and cultivating their developing minds. It is a thing of wonder and beauty. Or so I thought, until I uploaded the contents of our family's digital camera recently.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go put my foot up because of the tendons I tore in what I can only refer to as The Unfortunate Incident.

I'm Caught in a Trap

2009-06-23T09:11:00.003-05:00

Good morning, and thank you for stopping by for your daily dose of Elvis lyrics.

Today's dilemma: how do I get out of coloring my hair? Oh, how I wish someone had mentioned to me back in 1985 that the highlights I got to camouflage my premature gray would suck me into a swirling vortex of hair swatches and 40 volume developer. Now, at 41, the color of my hair changes slightly (or drastically, depending on the emotional state of my hairdresser) about every 6 weeks or so. For the last few years, I've been applying the root touch-up stuff from the grocery store between visits to Madame Mercurial because my WHITE grow-out line is more than I can take.

Which brings me back to the question of how to get off this merry-go-round. All I can come up with is to skip a couple of visits to the salon and then put a #4 guard on the Wahl clippers and go all GI Jane. Except without all the buffness. When I try to imagine what that will look like, visions of a stubbly Stay-Puf Marshmallow Mom dance in my head. So I consider just going low-maintenance and growing the whole mess all the way out, so that I have 6 or 8 inches of mostly gray, then a little brownish "transition" hair, followed by dried-out streaks of blonde. I'll braid it. It'll be fine. What?

As you can see, I need to harness the power of the Internet to solve this besetting problem. You have the floor.

Let's See Now...Where Were We?

2009-06-20T22:24:00.002-05:00

Hello, virtual friends! Please don't think that because I haven't written a doggone thing that I haven't been thinking of you with fondness. Because I have. A lot. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's been my problem. I'm so stinkin' fond of every last one of your blessed little souls that I can't bring myself to type out the drivelly mush that's been swimming in my brain. But then I missed you. So I visited your blogs, commented a little here and there and I felt better. For a while. And now I just feel like having a good old-fashioned one-sided chat. You know, like the kind we have with palaverous 4-year-olds who talk without taking a breath. Those are fun. So I'll chatter away, and you can pretend to pay attention and do other things and we'll get along just fine.

Summer has come to the middle of the country, and it's a beautiful thing. If, by "beautiful thing", I am understood to mean "thank God for swimming pools, air conditioning and snow cones." The homeschooling schedule has loosened up a bit, though the three older kids have a few academic goals they're still working on. Mostly, they all need to really cover some ground, math-wise. Progress is being made, so we just need to keep plugging.

We're also continuing to read. The two older girls belong to mother/daughter book clubs, so we just keep on reading all summer long. I can't say enough good things about our book clubs. I've read some of the most wonderful and challenging literature with my girls over the last few years. We've had really fascinating discussions both at home and in the book club meetings, and we've formed some of the sweetest friendships with these moms and daughters. Right now we're working on Pride and Prejudice for the middle school group and Around the World in 80 Days and The Silver Chalice for the high school group. When I look back over the last 3 years at the list of books we've read, I'm amazed and so, so grateful

In other reading news, Seth is now picking up books to read on his own. As you all know, Seth has autism and all language is a challenge for him. It has been a special joy to watch him develop a love for reading. He is so sweet when he reads things to/for Claire that it just melts my heart. Then I find the cup hook he screwed into the middle of the wall in the living room and that brings the melting to a screeching halt. For what it's worth, if I had been designing little boys, I'd have put an OFF switch on that rascally Y chromosome. I'm waiting for that upgrade.

Oh, you should probably know that this post is brought to you by my sweet husband and his resurrected PowerBook. It's not as nifty as my little MacBook, but I'm as grateful as I can be to have it. You see (public service announcement), laptop computers do not, in fact, fare well when doused in ramen soup. Stupid health food. So Dan graciously took all my remotely backed up (the man's a genius!!) data and now this old PowerBook has all my old MacBook stuff on it and the clouds parted and the angels sang and I think I even heard KC and the Sunshine Band. That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it, uh huh uh huh. The only drawback is that my photos are now all on the desktop computer, so adding them to blog posts won't be easy. What that means for you is that you will not be subjected to macro-lens photos of things I'm scouring Google for a diagnosis for. You're welcome.

Tomorrow is Father's Day. My husband is an exceptional father. The best. And that blesses me in ways that are hard to describe. And that's all I have to say about that.

Did You Bring Your Brain? Can I Pick It Please?

2009-05-12T23:56:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, Jesse and I took a little trip north to Newton, KS. We went with my sweet friend Angela for the purpose of meeting with the director and board president of the Newton Children's Choir. Angela and I are starting a community children's choir here in central Oklahoma.

Okay. Typing that last sentence made me catch my breath a little.

Community children's choir...us...just two moms. Angela is a degreed music teacher, and a mighty gifted one at that. She has a vision for the group, and has been doing extensive research online, over the phone and in person. And I'm, uhm, good with forms. Also, as a French Horn player, I have the ability to count to 4 over and over again. Obviously, Angela has very high standards for her associates.

On the one hand, there isn't a community children's choir in central Oklahoma, which makes us think the avenue is wide open. On the other hand, there isn't a community children's choir in central Oklahoma, probably because nobody wants one. You see the dilemma. I'm sure you're all wanting to partner with me in a bold venture in the near future. I have that effect on folks. I try to use my powers only for good.

We're not affiliating with any church or school, we're looking to have grades 4 through 8, rehearse once a week, perform locally, give two main concerts annually and take trips of varying durations to perform at regional music festivals. We will take all interested singers, musical background not necessary. We will charge tuition, and will be writing grant proposals to keep tuitions affordable.

Here's where you come in: does your area have anything like what I've described? Is there a website we can visit? What do you think? Are families too overscheduled as it is? Would you consider something like this if it were available?

We're giving ourselves a year and a half to launch the choir. We plan to hold our first rehearsal in August of 2010, which seems so very far in the future, but feels like it's right around the corner. I'm anxious to know your thoughts.

My Field Trip Report

2009-05-10T22:20:00.002-05:00

Dan and I went to Arlington, TX, for the homeschool book fair there. I decided that Jesse would have a better day at my mom's, where he is the king of all he surveys, than with us in the car seat, stroller and sling. He had a good day with Mom, but now doesn't want me out of his sight, so I'm paying the piper for my day of kidlessness. It's a good thing he's so dang cute.

On the way to the book fair, I twittered our plans and got messages from Connie (Smockity Frocks) and Renae (Life Nurturing Education) suggesting we meet up. I was on that like a duck on a junebug! We set a time and place to meet, but darned if Connie didn't spot me in the vendor hall. How did she DO that? Anyway, she's a doll and her daughter is quite the photographer. As a bonus, I got to meet Heather (Spirittibee)! Dying to know more? Want photographic evidence? Go see Connie. I'm the one who's not thin (those girls are skinNY) nor dressed cute (is anyone's best color beige? What was I thinking?), and generally resemble something that was pulled backward through a knothole (hello, Texas! These are my pores. Thank you for opening them for me.)

And now, as I've succumbed to the kids' cold from last week, I'm going to take my new pet tissue box and curl up in bed. Have a blessed week, y'all!

2009-05-08T23:21:00.002-05:00

I'm pleased to report that we've weathered MucousFest '09. I'm stocking up now in case our house turns out to be a stop on the Fall Tour. Time will tell.

So, y'all know how Olivia plays the harp, right? She loves her harp and she practices willingly most every day. I think she's pretty good, and we all enjoy hearing her play. She gets the occasional gig around town and enjoys playing for an audience. She's 12 1/2 now, and she's been playing just over four years.

Well, last Tuesday we went to her harp lesson. Her teacher is 80ish, lives in an assisted living center, and is a living legend in the harp world. She played for Eisenhower's inauguration and was a protegé of the greatest harpist of the 20th century, Carlos Salzedo. Her son recently set up a computer in her apartment, and she's learning how to use it. When we got there on Tuesday, she wanted Olivia to watch this. We enjoyed it, and I hope you do too.

Hello? Anybody Home?

2009-05-07T23:21:00.002-05:00

Well! Wouldja lookie here? I bet you thought I'd forgotten about my little bloggy home. I think most bloggers can identify with the feeling of having so much you want to say, and not being able to get it out in any kind of coherent way. We resort to lists, memes and just posting lots and lots of photos. Then we neglect the blog for about 6 weeks or so, only to find that the problem is completely out of hand. And that is where you find me, your intrepid author, today.

Hm.

I want to tell you about a little phenomenon I like to call Trickle-Down Behaviornomics. It's what happens when one kid gets in trouble and ALL the kids just snap in line and all of a sudden, I'm surrounded by helpful, respectful goody-goodies.

We had an issue yesterday with our oldest, who will soon be 18. It was fairly serious, and I treated it as such. The real-life consequences of her choices will be borne, along with some loss of privilege that will have to be earned back through trustworthy actions. First, I have to give her credit...once the error became known and the consequences began to be outlined, she took it exceedingly well. She was humble and contrite, and we were closer at the end of the discipline session than at the beginning. Her parting words were, "I'm going to earn your trust back by Friday..." I love it when discipline has its desired effect.

Well, you've never seen 3 such well-behaved younger siblings in all your life! I believe I might have contracted a touch of the sugar-diabetes from all the sweetness that flowed in our home yesterday. I think they wanted to help Hannah over her difficulty, and I know they wanted the atmosphere to lighten up, but I hope that they also took a little lesson for themselves from their sister's misbehavior and will perhaps spare themselves at least a little trouble later on by learning from someone else's mistakes.

I should tell you, however, that my cherubim were somewhat less cherubic today. All 5 of the kids woke up with cold symptoms. Little Jesse has been re-named Snot Rocket, Seth told me today that he almost sneezed his eyeball out and Claire's lips are "chack" so she's using "chack-stick" like it's her job. Seems like low-grade temps are also uniformly distributed throughout the tribe, along with the perfunctory whiny voices, short tempers and general crabbiness. School today consisted of learning the first verse of our church's hymn of the month and lots of reading aloud because those are the only things this teacher can do with an 8-month-old who seems convinced that nursing is the cure for all that ails him.

So, now you know where we are. If I get a turn at the computer again before Jesus comes back, I'll fill you in on some fun things that happened at Easter and ask some probing hair coloring questions. Or I'll just post a bunch of photos. Thanks for stopping by!

Seinfeld Post - Or, Here's Something About Nothing

2009-03-25T15:53:00.003-05:00

I'm still spending most of my computer time working on the homeschool convention. Looking forward to a great couple of days of fun and fellowship and encouragement. And cinnamon rolls.

And, serioulsy? I've been sitting here for over 30 minutes and that's all I can come up with. I will now go sweep the floor.

Man! What I wouldn't give for a good meme...

Alpha Waves Have Eroded the Surfaces of My Corneas

2009-03-22T00:59:00.000-05:00

It is the time of year where I spend every spare (and not-so-spare) moment in front of a computer. The Oklahoma Homeschool Convention is just over a month away and one of my responsibilities is recruiting, scheduling and managing convention volunteers. This year, the best part of the job is that this sweet lady and her darling hubby have agreed to consider taking over these duties, which means we've had the pleasure of their family's company a few times over the last several weeks. It has been such a privilege getting to know this dear family.

If you want to see what I did today instead of mopping the kitchen and unpacking my suitcase, click here. Feel free to nose around and give me whatever feedback you have. I particularly like feedback that includes the words "incredible", "beyond awesome", and "skinny", but of course I just want you to be honest.

If you are a homeschooler in Oklahoma, please consider taking advantage of the opportunities to shop and learn at the convention. From seasoned home educators to those just starting out, we've worked to provide something to encourage everyone. Wanna know something? I have a blog dedicated to OCHEC activities that I've neglected even worse than this one, and that's saying a lot.

And now, with the 3-hour nap I took between 5 and 8 this morning having completely worn off, I'm going to peel my eyeballs away from my MacBook and put myself to bed. Have a blessed Lord's Day.

If BooMama Can Do It...

2009-03-21T01:09:00.002-05:00

...so can I! Lookie here! It's a list! And it must be cute and oh-so-sassy because I've seen it on the most fashionable blogs. I will commence with the list, post haste, lest all the wordiness detract from the impact of aforementioned list.

One more note, real quick: whereas it's Stupid-thirty in the morning, and whereas I'm living the reality that mother's milk is composed entirely of maternal brain cells, this list will be neither orderly nor logical. You've been warned.

1. Watching 24 should qualify as aerobic exercise. I clinch muscle groups which have yet to be named while I watch Jack Bauer single-handedly attempt to save humanity from certain doom. Again. As usual.

B. While I LOVE being a mom, and I'm OVER THE MOON about my five (count 'em, F-I-V-E) (seriously, somebody count 'em, 'cause I might've left one at the library) (HA! I had you thinking we go to the library!) (where was I?) kids, and I am BEYOND GRATEFUL to be able to stay home with them, and I KNOW in my KNOWER that we're supposed to home school...Y'ALL! Doing all these things at once is like juggling cats and I'm getting scratched to pieces! Therefore, henceforth I shall only Mother on Mondays, Teach on Tuesdays, Wash on Wednesdays, Train on Thursdays and File on Fridays. On Saturdays, I shall Sit and on Sundays I will Sing. Man! Am I glad I got THAT worked out!

III. I got home from a trip to Colorado exactly one month ago today. I remembered to tell you about it because THE SUITCASE IS STILL ON THE FLOOR OF MY ROOM. You'll want to come back here to read the rest of my housekeeping tips.

Four. My blog reader runneth over, but I'm reading them here and there as I have a spare moment. I mostly read on my phone, which means that I'm not commenting as much. If your sitemeter stats list a visitor from Oklahoma City using a Mac, assume it's me and try to imagine me nodding, mm-hmmm-ing and muttering the occasional "you go, Girl". Because I totally am.

Cinco. I love Twitter.

The end.

Theology of Suffering

2009-03-02T12:49:00.003-06:00

Joni Eareckson Tada's message begins about 5 minutes in, and is about 25 minutes long. It's worth the viewing, I think. I hope you agree.

Two of our children have disabilities. I've learned over the last 17+ years that all people have disabilities, only a few of which are visible. All people suffer. Only a few of them do so publicly. May we all have the grace to submit to all of God's sovereign plan, and to deal gently with each other as we participate with Him in our transformation into the likeness of our suffering Savior. Thank God for the suffering "driving me down the road to Calvary, where otherwise I might not naturally be inclined to go."

Did You Ever Have One Of Those Days?

2009-02-27T21:46:00.006-06:00

Hello, folks! Look who didn't fall off the planet!

As usual, it's been so long since I've written that so many things have happened that I don't even know where to begin. Dangit. Again.

So, I'm just going to jump right in. I will tell myself that I'll be a more faithful blogger. And I'll mean it. And we'll see what happens.

Today, little Jesse is 6 months old! How come it seems like it CAN'T possibly be 6 months since he was born? I have personally dispensed every single meal he's ever had. That's something like 1,480 meals. Give or take. Have we discussed my OCD?

Anyway, here's a photo of the child I can't keep from calling Rabbi Shmuly (no particular reason to call him that...I heard it one day and the sound just made me happy)(have we discussed my penchant for weird words?).

In other news, we've enjoyed several weeks of very productive homeschooling; if by "enjoyed" I am understood to mean "the kids are about to mutiny, but I don't care since we're using up tons of paper and it makes me feel like we're getting stuff done." One of the things I'm enjoying most is listening to the Grace to You podcasts of John MacArthur sermons with the older girls each morning. We're practicing note-taking, outlining, summarizing and applying Biblical truth to our lives every day. We use the text of the messages for our Bible study and for copywork.

Because I don't want to overwhelm you with All The Words, I'll quit for now. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow. Maybe it'll be Labor Day. Either way, thanks for reading and be blessed my friends!

Shameless Contest Entry Post

2009-01-27T11:45:00.002-06:00

What Oh Amanda Means to Me

On a day covered in hoary frost, when the roads outside are slicker than kid snot on a cold brass doorknob, I have found an oasis in the midst of the world wide web. That oasis is Oh Amanda. Sometimes I laugh out loud. Sometimes I just nod knowingly. Sometimes I get so behind on my blog reading that I miss entire months of posts, but that doesn’t matter; she’s always there with her archives ready to enable my unhealthy need to snoop into other people’s bidness. Particularly when that snooping is done instead of boring stuff like laundry and mopping. Especially mopping. It’s amazing, really, the lengths to which I will go in order to avoid the hateful task of mopping. Which is odd since a freshly-mopped floor is one of the things I love best in the world.

Speaking of things I love best, Oh Amanda is one of my MOST DEF FAVE Twitter People, or Tweople, or for those of you down wit’ dat, Tweeps. Though we’ve never met in real life, I’m sure we could while away several hours in the comfy chairs at Starbucks, laughing our fool heads off over kids and life in general.

So, here I am at just over 200 words. The challenge was to write 400 words on What Oh Amanda Means To Me. I’m just in it to win a sling from Raspberry Baby, one of many too-too-cute Etsy shops about which I would have known nothing had it not been for Amanda’s tweet which sent me to her blog which inspired me to enter her contest and try to get as many entries as possible. As a bonus, I am sitting here looking all busy and efficient, when, in reality, I am avoiding all manner of actual productive endeavors. I wonder if most efficient-looking folks are actually just creative procrastinators? I wouldn’t be surprised. I usually feel a driving need to organize the files when I’m supposed to be packing to go on vacation.

To summarize, Oh Amanda means smiles and the studious avoidance of stuff resembling work. Not that I was going to work in the first place. Especially not today.

What’s today, you ask? Well, let me tell you: Today, Tuesday, January 27, 2009, I am celebrating another successful trip around the sun. My forty-first trip in a row, for those of you keeping score at home.

PS: Love giveaways? Go HERE

I will now resume my not-blogging for your not-reading pleasure. That is all.

Since I'm All About Education

2009-01-14T18:12:00.004-06:00

I need to be getting myself ready to take the older girls on a field trip to the Federal Courthouse. But first, I really need to show you something. You're never far from my thoughts, Dear Readers, and when I watch this video (which I do--daily), I wonder if the rest of my virtual loved ones (that's YOU) are equipped to defend themselves should the need arise. And so, without further ado, I bring you Diamond Dave's Ninjy Trainin' School:

Please view the video and be prepared to discuss the finer points tomorrow.

Yours for Trailer Park Safety,

Dana

You Never Know WHAT Will Show Up In Your Reader

2009-01-14T17:26:00.005-06:00

Hello? Anybody here?

MAN, is it ever dusty!

I have so much I want to write, so many things to ask you guys and a zillion reasons why this little corner of Blogdom has been dark. Maybe I'll get around to that stuff sometime. For now, I want to pop in, say hey (Hey!!) and ramble. Sound good? I thought so.

Tonight, it's just me, Dan, Hannah and Jesse, since my dear friend took the three middle kids to church with their family tonight. This makes me WAY undermotivated to put on my Magic Chef hat, know what I mean? I'm thinking it'll be sandwiches and soup for dinner, unless I can talk Dan into taking us to the Chinese Buffet that just opened. Here's hopin'.

I just looked out the window, and the sunset tonight is peachy-pink. So pretty.

Jesse's taking an impressively long nap, and I'm afraid that if I actually start something productive, he'll wake up. My philosophy of baby naps is this: the length of the nap is inversely proportional to the complexity of what I'm doing. If I'm cleaning out a closet or explaining the difference between volume and mass, that little stinker sleeps about 15 minutes. Surfing the 'net for Maxine cartoons? Sleeps for 3 hours.

Oh, Internets (I'd like to publicly thank Sophie for coining this wonderful term of endearment), there's so much for us to discuss, I hardly know where to start. And, guess what? Jesse's awake, so we'll all have to wait until my next blog post, which I PROMISE will be on or before Labor Day!

Find Us Faithful

2008-12-22T00:40:00.006-06:00

I found out this afternoon that Steve Green, one of my favorite musicians, was doing a show at a church in town at 6pm. Dan and I loaded Jesse into the car and drove to the church, arriving about 20 minutes into the program. I last saw Steve Green in concert about 20 years ago and I've loved his music ever since. His song "Cherish the Treasure" was the highlight of our wedding. Well, that and, you know, the whole covenant marriage for life thing. That was pretty cool. Scary, but cool.

Anyhoo, I was very excited to see him perform again, and he did not disappoint. After the intermission, he did a few of his songs from early in his career, and one of them absolutely scorched my heart. I've loved this song since the first time I heard it on the DiscMan in my then-boyfriend's 1986 Honda Accord (music! on a shiny silver circle-y thing! that you don't have to rewind! it's a revolution!). The song is "Find Us Faithful" and tears streamed down my cheeks as I was reminded of the privilege and responsibility of living Biblically. The last stanza and the chorus are particularly meaningful to me:

After all our hopes and dreams
have come and gone
And our children sift through all we've left behind
May the clues that they discover
and the memories they uncover
Become the light that leads them
to the road we each must find
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful!
May the fire of our devotion light their way.
May the footprints that we leave
lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey.
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful!

Indeed. May all who come behind me find me faithful.

For My Next Trick...

2008-12-19T21:40:00.007-06:00

...I will compose a post, of the bloggy persuasion. I KNOW, right? It's a Christmas miracle!

First, a some late acknowledgments. Maggie at Life With Boys pronounced my blog fabulous, for which I thank her very much even as I apologize for the conspicuous paucity of fabulocity. Maggie is a lot of fun to read, and the Cutie-Pie Factor over there is off the charts! Check her out, why dontcha?

I'm passing this award along to my FIRL (Friend in Real Life) Tracy at Too Blessed to Be Stressed. She and her blog are, in a word, Fabulous!

Next, the totally cool and bloggily bodacious Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary declared my blog brilliante! Didja see that? Brilliant-with-an-e? Pretty cool, yeah? Thanks, Heather!

Know who else is Brilliant-with-an-e? Barbie at Just Barbie. She is brave and kind and generous. Most of all, she's real and I think she's brilliant. With an 'e'.

I have so many things I want to write about. I have pictures and everything. I'm half afraid that if I start, it will all just come out in a great big slobbery jumble, resulting in a bloggy version of Jabba the Hut. The thing that's occupying most of my heart and mind today is that a sweet family I am acquainted with is grieving the death of their wife and mother. She was 39 and her death last Tuesday morning was unexpected. Dan and I attended her funeral this afternoon. I squeezed my children until their cream fillin' came out for the rest of the day. As happens so often, my resolve to be the mom my kids deserve was deepened. Because only God knows the number of my days.

I have a lot of things to tell you about, and I promise to be more diligent in updating the blog. I need to admit that I have a little problem, though. I can't seem to quit doing this:

Odd Things

2008-11-30T22:00:00.000-06:00

This was my bedtime snack: German chocolate cake, vitamins and milk. Look for my new diet book at a fine retailer near you. NOT.

Also, is it weird that before I could eat this little gourmet delight, I felt I had to locate the camera and photograph it? That I thought Blog People from The Internet would want to see my weirdness for themselves?

Lastly, don't you love the pattern on that plate? Those are the paper plates we had our Thanksgiving Part Deux dinner on this afternoon, and I think they are so pretty!

Photohunt: Metal

2008-11-30T02:32:00.004-06:00

Here's my contribution to Photohunt. I love this view of Olivia through the strings of her harp. The metal actions in the neck of the harp are moving parts that allow the harpist to play sharps and flats.

For more interpretations of this week's theme, go here.

Parenting by The Book

2008-11-30T00:05:00.002-06:00

We had a really good week. We made fresh pumpkin puree (fun and easy) and cooked and baked our way through the week. We read some good Thanksgiving books and watched a PBS video about Pilgrims and talked a lot about being grateful. This lent itself to a discussion of 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

It was interesting to get the kids' perspective on what those instructions might look like in everyday Pilgrim life.

"Give thanks in all circumstances." That really was the reason for the first Thanksgiving feast. Over half their number had died and the difficulties had to have been more than any of them ever imagined when they left for the New World. God's will for them, and for us, is to give thanks to Him in all circumstances. I've talked with the kids about how knowing what God wants us to do and having the courage to follow Him only means that we've decided to trust Him to provide for our needs. No comfort or ease is implied.

Anyway, good discussions around here. I'd love to read how the Scriptures came alive in your home this week.

New Parenting Strategy: Pretend They Belong to Someone Else!

2008-11-27T22:46:00.002-06:00

We had a great afternoon with Dan's parents and his sister and her family. Much food was consumed, football was watched and it was mostly happy shrieks and thuds from the kids playing indoors and out (LOVE Oklahoma in the fall!). We got home about 7:30 and proceeded to veg away the evening. Before bed, a little tidying was in order, and it is Hannah's (age 17) week to keep the kitchen up so I reminded her to finish loading the dishwasher before turning in. When I went into the kitchen about 10 minutes later, there were many dirty dishes around the kitchen. I opened the door of the dishwasher and looked in to see that it was 2/3 full or so. This sort of thing happens with some regularity, and it is aggravating, to say the least.

The two older girls were in their room, but still very much awake. I went to inform Hannah that she had not fulfilled her duties. I've been known to "inform" rather unpleasantly. I mean, come ON. It's not as if the job is ambiguous, for cryin' out Pete. This time I decided to do it differently. I would treat her like she belonged to someone else. Like I would want someone to treat her.

"Oh, good. You're still awake. Come with me to the kitchen and let's get a few more of those dishes in the dishwasher." It almost didn't sound like me talking. Did I mention I can sometimes be unpleasant?

I encouraged her to rearrange the dishes and gave her some pointers. The same pointers I gave her when she got big enough to load the dishwasher. The same pointers I give her (unpleasantly) when she runs the half-empty dishwasher in the kitchen piled with dirty dishes. I instructed her to hand wash a couple of larger items, fill one side of the sink with hot, soapy water to soak some of the serving dishes from this afternoon, and wipe down the counter tops. I explained some of the whys and wherefores. Again. For the patrillionth time. I did not let one note of rancor into my voice, since I wouldn't do that with someone else's kid.

You know what? The kitchen is tidy. My daughter did the job and I don't feel like a giant, steaming pile of mean mom. You know what else? She is Someone Else's kid.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Thanksgiving Blessings

2008-11-27T12:15:00.001-06:00

Take your fun where you can find it!

What's YOUR Super Power?

2008-11-26T11:49:00.004-06:00

Greetings from the armchair in my bedroom! I'm coming to you, as I often do, with a lap full o' nursing boy. I can blog and nurse at the same time! I am also, for those of you keeping score at home, supervising the holiday baking and praying for world peace.

The other day, I commented on Twitter that I'm considering adding Human Pacifier to my resumé, as it appears that my, um, babyfeeders (hat tip to Jeana) have a special power all their own to calm a certain 12 pounds of Savage Beast. Kelly at Love Well suggested that she was a Human Kleenex that particular day. That got me thinking about Mommy the Human Napkin who writes at Realm of Crazy People. All of this made me wonder, what's YOUR super power?

In case it's not obvious, this is a thinly-veiled ploy to get to you entertain me. Ready? Set. Go!

Photohunt: Reflection

2008-11-24T22:30:00.000-06:00

I do a lot of surfing. Surfing the 'net while Jesse nurses, that is! Today I found a weekly carnival or sorts called Photohunt. Every week there's a different theme, and this week's theme is Reflection. It immediately made me think if this picture of Claire, taken after a bath and a blow-dry. Claire has SO MUCH FUN being Claire. I hope that's always the case.

For a lot more great photos, go to tnchick.com.

Whee!! It's a Carnival!

2008-11-24T14:28:00.003-06:00

The venerable Antique Mommy is hosting Homemeade Handmade Holiday Carnival. Because I desire to emulate her in every possible way, I am participating. Because I can't seem to keep track of the dadgum camera, you will have to use your imagination. In your imagination, I should be tall and lithe, dressed for comfort, but looking effortlessly fashionable. I am working in an immaculate kitchen surrounded by my seraphic children who never shove, interrupt or "toot the booty-horn". Now that you've joined me in Fantasy Land, let's make some ornaments!

Here's what you need:
Christmas cookie cutters
drinking straw
spatula
3/4c ground cinnamon
2T ground cloves
1T ground nutmeg
1T ground allspice
1c applesauce

Glitter glue in assorted colors
1/8" ribbon, gold or silver cord or yarn to hang ornaments
buttons, rickrack, google eyes, or whatever crafty things you have lying around.

Here's what you do:

Mix spices together well. Gradually add applesauce to make a stiff dough. All of the applesauce may not be needed.

Dust the table with cinnamon. Roll dough to 1/4" thickness and cut into various shapes. Use the straw to make a hole for a hanging ribbon. Use spatula to carefully transfer ornaments to an ungreased cookie sheet. Take the leftover dough, ball it up, roll it out and keep cutting ornaments until you've used it all up.

Heat your oven to its lowest setting (170º-200º or so). Place cookie sheet(s) in the oven. Turn the ornaments once an hour until they are completely dry.

Now, decorate away! Use the glitter glue to embellish your ornaments or to affix buttons, rickrack and whathaveyou. Tie a length of ribbon or cord through the hole and you have a lovely ornament with a great spicy scent.

Wasn't that fun? Want to have more fun? GO HERE!

Parenting by The Book

2008-11-22T22:16:00.002-06:00

I promise that my head will spin off my shoulders and my eyeballs will fly out if I hear "ME FIRST" one more time. I'm serious. I've warned the children, but I don't think they believe me, so you will want to watch the evening news, as I'm sure this event will warrant much air time. The Weekly World News will likely do a feature (provided BatBoy doesn't have any breaking news). It's really that bad.

Which brings me to this week's installment of Parenting By The Book. Our Scripture is the familiar

If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last and the servant of all. ~ Mark 9:35

When one of the little darlings chirps or, you know, wails "ME FIRST", he or she must be the last and serve the others. If he was trying, for instance, to be first in the van and score a certain seat (as if where one sits makes a whit of difference), he would have to open the door for the other children and take the seat that is left after everyone is in. Or say she was demanding the first cookie, in which case she would serve everyone else their choice of cookies and take her own serving from what was left. I simply recite the above verse and do my Vanna White impression, indicating the demanding child's new position and responsibility.

Conversely (and this happens less often, but it has happened), when I see a child showing deference and a servant's heart, I will move that child to the front of the line or give him his choice in the matter at hand while specifically praising the actions and attitude. This usually has the "trickle-down" effect of engendering lots of "You first!" "No, you first" and all of a sudden I'm in a Chip and Dale cartoon, which is fine with me, as there are no dishes or laundry there.

Did you parent "by The Book" this week? I'd love to read about it!

Time IN

2008-11-21T19:45:00.002-06:00

Most of us are familiar with the discipline concept of Time Out: remove the child from the situation, isolate the child in a spot away from the rest of the action and require him to stay in that spot for a certain amount of time (eg. one minute for every year of age). The goal is to have the child suffer a little bit and to cause him to consider carefully before committing the same infraction in the future. Like many other discipline tools, this one can be effective when properly employed.

In our house, when the children act out, they are likely to get a Time IN. For Time In, they give up their freedom to move about the house as they please because they are to be my "shadow" for a specified time. I have them right near me where I can address heart issues and continue the training that I hope will result in improved behavior.

When the child is next to me, I can read their body language, question their motives and probe their understanding of what is expected. Sometimes there's lots of dialog and sometimes none at all, depending on what is needful at the time. It helps me to discipline (and yes, even punish) the children while fortifying our relationship. If I'm nursing the baby, then they must sit quietly next to me. If I'm chopping veggies for supper, they'll be washing them or scooping them into the pot.

It will often happen, when Time In is up, the child will choose to stay in my company for a while. I wonder if that means that what was needed all along was a dose of individual attention from Mama. I'm not sure why it works, but I have found Time IN to be a very useful disciplinary tool.

If you'd care to share, I would love to read some of the discipline strategies you've found useful in your home.

2008-11-20T11:42:00.000-06:00

I've been back at blogging for just over a month. I really thought I had more that I wanted to say, but it appears that I've lost my blogging mojo. I wonder, though, if I even had mojo in the first place. Seems real mojo would be a tad more reliable and, um, present, leading me to conclude that I started this blog with a heapin' helpin' of faux-jo. Which would explain a whole lot.

Appropos of nothing, I HATE telemarketing calls. I was just told to "get my story straight" by the operator whose company CALLED ME. Grrr.

I have so many things rolling around in my head that I'd love to turn into a blog post, but I seem to have a case of chronic mental constipation. I wonder if it's caused by the dearth of chocolate and dairy in my diet? That seems like the most logical explanation.

On today's agenda: Fun With Preschoolers! Watch and be amazed as the very same almost-4-year-old who got out ALL the alphabet cards and playdoh whimpers, whines and slogs around because she CAAAaaan't put it AAAaaalll aWAAaaay. Let the good times roll, my friends. This is the child that is the source of All the Useful Information You Never Knew You Needed, such as "Mama has to feed the baby because she has the biggest n!pples."

Okay. I started this post on Monday. Today is Thursday. I will now press PUBLISH POST because, frankly, I'm tired of trying to turn this into something interesting.

This Just In

2008-11-09T21:06:00.002-06:00

The camera has been found. Oh, Happy Day!! It had fallen down between my bed and my nightstand. I had looked there several times, even lowering my considerable girth to the floor and crawling on my belly like a flashlight-wielding reptile (have I poked out your mind's eye yet?), all to no avail. Then yesterday, I glanced down there and noticed the square, black case, and the camera was found! I probably left it in some off-the-wall place like the confirmed goobersmack that I am, and God sent an angel to put it somewhere I couldn't miss it. It's the only logical explanation.

In other news, Claire informed the good patrons of our neighborhood Taco Bell that I am cool. In a voice that can be heard for three ZIP codes, she expounded on the source of my coolness: "Because you have that flower stamp on your bootie." I tried to quietly change the subject. I did not succeed. "When I'm a grown-up mama like you, will I have a flower stamp on my bootie?" Which brings me to the source of my conviction that children are given to us to help us maintain our humility. My children are, in my humble opinion, over-achievers. Bless their little pointed heads.

We had ourselves some wildlife excitement last week. Hannah came in the house one afternoon and said she'd seen a mouse in the garage. I promptly wrote "flaming bazooka" on the grocery list, because I think if there's anything that calls for a little overkill, it is rodent elimination. Olivia went immediately to the computer, tears streaming, to google "harmless mouse trap no kill live" (she's nothing if not thorough). I was torn. I have no qualms about sending a mouse to its eternal reward, but I hated to see Olivia so upset.

She requested permission to set up a trap she found in her research. I told her to go ahead. She gathered her materials and put together a trap that would make Wyle E. Coyote beam with pride. Next she announced her intention to spend the night on the hood of the car, waiting for the furry little devil to fall prey to her device. I had told her that she had until I went to the store on Saturday to catch the mouse and free it in a nearby field.

Friday night, the little varmint was rustling around in a trash can in the garage. The kids put it in a small wastebasket and Dan took them to set it free after dinner. I may pick up a flaming bazooka as a preventive measure, in case Jerry (oh yeah, they named him) has a wife and kids somewhere behind the garden tools, the thought of which makes my skin crawl.

And on that note, y'all have a great week!

Parenting by The Book

2008-11-08T22:00:00.002-06:00

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. ~Ephesians 3:16-17

If you're like me, you hear your mother's voice in your head. Most moms have phrases that they say a lot during their child-rearing years. My mom would say, "You don't have to want to. You just have to do it." When my cousins would complain that something wasn't fair, my aunt told them, "I'm not trying to be fair."

It's a little frightening to realize that my children will hear my voice in their heads long after I'm gone. Now is my chance to make sure that the words they hear in my voice are lifegiving. That is why I take many of my Mothering Mantras from the Bible. I make sure I'm using the Scripture in context and for its intended purpose, of course. I find it very useful to have "sound bytes" at the ready as I'm going through the day with my children. Every Sunday, I plan to write about a verse or passage that is helping us conform our family to the Biblical standard. This week we've used Phillipians 2:14-15a quite a bit:

Do everything without complaining or arguing so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God

When one of the little arrows in our quiver is given to complaining or trying to get his or her own way by arguing I respond with this verse. If the complaining or arguing continues, I simply repeat the verse. Without getting angry, I simply state the Biblical expectation and wait for them to rise to the standard. It helps if I am completely nonchalant about it so that I don't feed into any over-emotional reactions. At different times, we've talked about how this is God's standard for those who belong to Him. It applies to Mama and Daddy, and it applies to the children of our household. Saying it routinely to the children ingrains it in their thinking. It also makes me much more aware of when my own attitude and behavior don't measure up.

Delayed Obedience is Disobedience

2008-11-07T22:23:00.002-06:00

"OBAYFUSSENDENKINTAK!" came the shrill voice of my darling toddler. Always up for a good mystery, I followed the shrieking to it's pint-sized source. "OBAYFUSSENDENKINTAK!" Whatever that meant, she was serious about it. At nearly 2 years of age, little Claire usually spoke quite plainly, but I couldn't make heads or tails out of this exclamation. She had evidently decided that the toy in Seth's hand needed to be in her hand, as evidenced by her dimply little white knuckles wrapped around said toy while she leaned with all 24 pounds away from her older brother. Oh, I'm such a sleuth. As I came in the room, she began to jerk the toy. "OBAY! FUSSEN! DEN! KIN! TAK!" she chanted. And it dawned on me. "Obey first. Then we can talk." She had heard it so often she thought it was what you said when you wanted someone to change their behavior. Yep. I say that a lot.

Delayed obedience isn't really obedience at all. Our children can ask or tell us anything, as long as it is done respectfully, and AFTER indicating their intent to obey. My kids seem to want to answer in any number of ways when they receive an instruction from me or their dad. "Why?" is a favorite. "I don't want to" is fairly bold, but a couple of them have been known to try it. "But I was just..." happens a lot, as though my instructions would have been different if I had been aware of their agenda. All of those responses indicate an unwillingness to be immediately and completely compliant with my instructions, and are therefore unacceptable. Acceptable responses include, "Okay, Mom" and "Yes, Ma'am" and my favorite, though no one is willing to use it yet, "Here am I. Send me". But that last one could be a teensy bit over the top.

There are times when a child is so sure that if I just knew about their particular extenuating circumstance, then I would no doubt impose the accursed assignment (read: vacuum the music room) on another, more deserving sibling. For that reason, I will accept the following response one time: "Okay mom, but can I tell you something?" That says to me that they indeed intend to carry out my instructions but they think that they have information which might change my mind. I must say that, a time or two, they've been right. More often that not, however, I've anticipated their thinking (shrewd woman that I am) and taken it into account beforehand. There are times when I don't let them "tell me something", such as when time is an issue. I will say, "We don't have time. Please do as you're told." At which point, if they are wise, they will obey. If they are not wise, well, a great sadness will come upon the land, with weeping and gnashing of teeth. So to speak.

You see, I gave up a long time ago trying to cajole my children into agreeing that this or that thing is a good idea. I also don't negotiate with toddlers, teens or terrorists. I read the phrase, "Obey first. Then we can talk" in one of my favorite parenting books, Say Goodbye to Whining, Complaining and Bad Attitudes...in you and your kids!" by Turansky and Miller of The National Center for Biblical Parenting, and I knew I had hit on something that would work in our family. This article by Joanne Miller does a great job of summarizing this principle, if you'd like to read more about it. The bottom line is that I want my children to obey me the first time and without arguing because I think that this ability is central to their success as adults, but more importantly I think that cultivating this character quality prepares them to follow God wherever He may lead, and that is where the rubber meets the road.

I've Lost the Camera

2008-11-06T22:46:00.005-06:00

I'm about to go into a serious panic to find my camera. My babies' lives are slipping away before my very eyes and I have no way to capture the magic, nay, whimsy that is their collective childhood. Imagine little Jesse having to grow up with no more pictures like these:

Would you believe I'm self-taught?

Free Association! It's Free!

2008-11-04T22:10:00.004-06:00

I'm so glad the weather's cooling off. Our air conditioner up and quit, which wouldn't have been so bad, except Summer forgot to watch the calendar and hung around until, well, yesterday. It's been warm and stuffy in the house in the afternoons and evenings, though the nights have been cool enough. Nobody complained and we all enjoyed the fans my mom so generously loaned us. Which reminds me...

I have the greatest mom ever. We didn't have it easy growing up and I was a royal pain to raise so I really wouldn't have blamed Mom if she had bought a one-way bus ticket to a Land Far Far Away once my sister and I were grown. But she didn't. And now, as a retired widow, she does things like drive half an hour just to come sit in my house and hold my baby so he doesn't have to get hauled all over Kingdom Come. She came up last week to sit with him for two hours so the older kids and I could have a special lunch with my mother-in-law. Which made me remember...

When I have kids-in-law and grandkids I want to be more like my mom than my mother-in-law. 'Nuff said. On that note...

If being gracious to my mother-in-law is the price I have to pay to me married to The Best Guy Ever, I'm okay with that. He takes better care of me than I take of myself. Having grown up without my dad around, I am grateful to the point of tears when I think of what an outstanding father he is. He works hard at two jobs, but will hurry to get home early enough to ride bikes around the neighborhood with the kids before dark. He will come in after working at his second job and spend an hour in the older girls' room just hanging out and chatting about the day. Speaking of the kids...

Claire is getting low on candy. I think the older kids have been helping themselves to her stash, but I can't prove it. Today Claire got out her frog costume and was frantically pawing through the closet in the entryway. When I asked her what she was looking for, she said, "I need my punkin bucket to go get summore canny." I had to break it to her that, except for that one magical evening a year, ringing the neighbors' doors and holding out a bucket makes you a beggar. She was not easily convinced, but I was able to distract her by offering her her pick from the big kids' candy bag. Darn that candy anyway...

Jesse seems to have a sensitive tummy, so I've altered my diet in an effort to help him be more comfortable. All I've had to give up is caffeine, chocolate and dairy in all forms. He's a much more content little fellow, which is wonderful. I, on the other hand, am about to perish from the earth! There is a copious amount of chocolate here, and I haven't had any. AT. ALL. I'm about ready to throw it all away and tell the kids that we were robbed by Oompa Loompas. I miss chocolate...

I also miss cheese. And milk. And ice cream. And everything that tastes any good at all. A major part of my problem is that to me, certain foods just go with certain other foods. Cookies go with milk. If I'm not drinking milk, you can keep the stinkin' cookies. Quesadillas are just better with the quesa- part. Chicken and salsa on a tortilla is just...wrong. And don't even ask me to meet you at a Mexican restaurant right now, because the thought of it will make me cry. And speaking of tears...

I'm pretty sure that's what a person would have to be bored to in order to still be reading this, so I'll quit. You're welcome.

Following Up

2008-11-04T00:04:00.000-06:00

On this post, Grafted Branch, who blogs so engagingly at Restoring the Years, raised a question that I'm going to answer today. She wrote,

But let me ask you: how do you handle it when only one of multiple children require training, but in doing so ALL the children will suffer
(i.e., a lost outing).

And what if it happens often? Where do you, personally, draw the line between positive peer pressure and exasperating siblings to wrath against one another?

To the first question, in our house it is common knowledge that one person's decisions affect the other members of the family. One of the children can cost the whole family an outing. It's not fun for anyone, but it is a training opportunity for us all. The offender sees in real time how his wrong choice can be hurtful to other people. The siblings, on the receiving end, learn to extend grace. It's not all peaches and cream, mind you. A lot of training goes into these occurrences, and I spend a great deal of time counseling all of the children as they deal with disappointment, bitterness, selfishness, stubbornness and so on. It can be very tiring, but it is worth the effort and it doesn't happen often.

Which brings me to the second question: what if it happens often? Grafted Branch raises a thoughtful question here. If you have multiple children, you've no doubt experienced the positive peer pressure. Sometimes kids are more responsive to encouragement from a sibling than from a parent, but there is a limit, I think.

In our house, at this moment, Seth is the one needing the most intensive training. He is 9 years old, male, curious, creative and has autism. He challenges every boundary and has strong and sometimes irresistible impulses. We've all missed out on fun times because Seth transgressed in some way, and it can be very disappointing to the rest of us. We address this from two directions: first, we go out of our way to set Seth up to be successful by creating situations where he can practice the skills we are trying to teach. Second, if something comes up where we know he's not likely to do well, we make other arrangements for him (an afternoon with another homeschooling family or with a grandparent, for instance) to keep his behavior from causing us to have to cancel something fun. When he asks why he's being left with Gran, we tell him the truth. "The last time we went to the petting zoo, you were rough with the animals. This time, you're staying home. When you show us you can be kind and follow directions, you will be allowed to come with us again." He doesn't like missing out on these activities and his behavior has improved over time.

I view most every experience we have as a family as a training opportunity. I notice and comment on right attitudes, actions and words. I place a reminding hand on the shoulder of the one who seems about to say or do something untoward. I find that making expectations and boundaries clear to everyone beforehand is very helpful. I don't want the children to wonder what is and is not appropriate, especially if they are likely to see others behaving badly. And, when disobedience occurs, I move in swiftly and decisively, usually with a consequence that was known in advance.

My children's relationships with one another are precious to me, and are not to be trifled with. I don't think I get it right every time, but I am always trying.

Do You Know Where My Gumption Is?

2008-11-02T22:22:00.005-06:00

My "maternity leave" is officially over. I had given myself two months to recover from having Jesse, and that time is up. Tomorrow I need to hit the proverbial ground running. There's just one problem: my gumption seems to be missing. I think it eloped with my mojo and they're honeymooning somewhere far from the Wilson Domicile.

I do have a few stray thoughts I've been wanting to put into writing, mostly as a way to hold myself accountable.

I'm working on being the mom I think my kids deserve. I thought about this a year or so ago, but didn't really put feet to it, you know? I began to think of what I'd want my kids to have in a mom if I had to write a Help Wanted ad. Why I went down this mental trail remains a mystery for the ages. It occurred to me that I would require things of Help Wanted Mama that I don't do myself, and that bothered me. I think I can do a much better job of being the mother my kids deserve, and I'm working on making that happen.

We're "building character" around here right now, as the leaky sink, broken dishwasher, non-functional air conditioner and unfrozen deep freeze line up to teach us what is and what is not a necessity in this life. I hope the lessons of initiative, work, mild discomfort and being grateful for our many blessings last. I also wonder what sorts of lessons we could learn without having to mourn the passing of a beloved appliance, and whether we could just get started on them now.

Happy Monday, y'all. And Happy November!

We Have a Winner!

2008-10-31T09:43:00.002-05:00

Or, more accurately, we have 3 winners! I'll get to that in a minute.

First, I'd like to thank all 81 of you who commented. I had such fun this week reading your comments.

For the record, a considerable majority of us never thought we'd be so conversant about poop. Really, we should have known, though, shouldn't we? I mean, my childhood is characterized by inquiries and warnings from my mother about the relative state of my bowels. My mom had the scoop on poop, I tell you. She knew what would give me "the back-door trots", the "green apple quick step" or just your garden-variety "runs". She could also predict what would "stop you up like a cork" with alacrity. When I was having a bad day and refused to be civil, she was pretty sure an enema was in order, the threat of which chased away many a case of Adolescent Angst. This may explain my hankering to hand out Fleet Enemas to the goth kids at the mall.

Coming in a close second in our very unscientific survey: variations on "Because I said so," including, "I'm the mom, that's why" and "As long as you live under MY roof..."

My favorite, though, came from Kristin. She wrote:

i never thought i would say "i love you" a million times a day, but i do!

And then she adds:

i also never thought i would talk about poop so much.

So we know she's really one of us! If you click on her name you'll go to her blog and see a picture of her gorgeous baby that will make you ovulate on the spot. Don't say you weren't warned.

On to the giveaway! We had 81 comments, so I asked three of my kids to each pick a number between 1 and 81. I can't think of anything MORE random than that. Here are the winners, in the order in which they were chosen:

Comment number 17, Shara, chosen by Seth.
Comment number 52, crystal (yahoo email), chosen by Hannah.
Comment number 70, itsahumanzoo, chosen by Olivia.

Check your inboxes, girls!

And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I've only said a hundred or so I love you's, so I've obviously got some catching up to do.

OH! Thanks so much to Chilihead for hosting this great carnival! If you LOVE giveaways, be sure you have Bloggy Giveaways in your feed reader. There's a lot of great stuff being given away there all the time!

It's a Bloggy Giveaway!

2008-10-27T08:10:00.005-05:00

My sweet friend Jules at Everyday Mommy was kind enough to forward an email from BabyButler about a product they'd like me to try. I'm trying to get "trying free stuff" classed as "aerobic exercise", so I shot them an email and in a few short days I was the proud possessor of three of these charming devices.

They are made of soft, multicolored flannel and good for holding a bottle. They can also be used as burp cloths, changing pads and nursing covers, making them excellent shower gifts for breast- or bottle-feeding moms. They're dry clean only JUST KIDDING! Just toss 'em in the washing machine and they come out softer and gooder than new!

If you'd like to win a BabyButler Bottle Holder, retail value $19.95, leave me a comment. To make it fun, let's all tell one thing we never thought we'd say before having children. Don't have kids? No worries. Just tell the class your most embarrassing moment. Or the name of your fish. Or just say "enter me".

Here's the fine print:
•One entry per person, please. Multiple entries will all be deleted.
•I'm not psychic so Anonymous entries will be deleted because I don't want to wait on the Universe to bring us together again.
•US mailing addresses only.
•You don't have to have a blog to win, but you do need an email address.
•3 Winners will be drawn Friday, October 31, notified via email and listed here. You will have four days to respond with your mailing address. If I don't hear from you by then, I'll draw another winner (make sure you check your spam folder).

Okay. I'll go first. I never thought I'd ever have occasion to say "That's a very nice poop, Darlin'. Now let's put it back in the potty where it belongs." But guess what? I did.

More giveaways at the Bloggy Giveaways Quarterly Carnival!

Keeping the Destination in Mind

2008-10-22T22:07:00.003-05:00

Today I was in the gas station stocking up on provisions for a road trip. I'm so desperate for a change of scenery that I drove 100 miles up the turnpike for the pleasure of lunch with Melanie and Shannon. Also in the gas station was a woman with a preschool-aged boy who wanted a toy and some gum and a candy bar and a soda and a box of matches (!) and on and on and on. The woman told him no...no...NO...NO...I SAID NO AND I MEANT IT DO YOU WANT ME TO BUST YOU RIGHT HERE THE ANSWER IS NO! To no one's surprise, he started to cry. Loudly. So the woman grabbed a candy bar, slammed it on the counter, paid for it and jabbed it at the little boy. The crying subsided, and the boy was obviously torn between the sweet taste of victory and the stinging of the harsh words.

We've all seen it. Some of us (me) have done it. Instant-gratification-type parenting decisions that will not bear pleasant fruit down the road, such as giving in to a child so that the whining/screaming/flailing/cursing-like-a-sailor-on-shore-leave (ZOINKS) will stop. Where does that get us? In my experience, it creates confused, demanding children and resentful parents. Is that the destination any parent has in mind? Of course not.

My husband and I are determined to correct, encourage, exhort, discipline and, when necessary, punish our children with our desired end result in mind. This means taking the time not just to talk, but to train. Not just to punish, but to examine motives (ours and theirs). When we're on our game, it goes something like this:

Call the child to us. This serves two purposes, first requiring the child to bend his will to ours and second, keeping the exchange private.

Name the offense. "I told you before we came today that you would not be getting a toy from Target. When you keep asking, you are insisting on your own way by badgering me. Badgering is not allowed."

Name the consequence. "Because you were badgering, you will go to bed 30 minutes early tonight."

What happens next depends on the child's response. If he begins to whine and complain, the bedtime will be moved up in 30 minute increments until he relents. There's nothing like going to bed at 4:30 in the afternoon to give you time to consider your ways. Here's the point where I get tempted to get off track by saying to myself, "...but we have karate tonight, and we've already paid and I hate for that money to go to waste and the belt test is next week and...". If my desired destination is having a child who doesn't demand a toy every time we go to the store, I have to be willing to put that goal above his earning a purple belt. Which one will serve him best in the long run? So, yeah, we'll be skipping karate, he'll eat an early dinner of a sandwich and milk, be in bed at 4:30 because Mama means business.

My point is that our driving concern, our Prime Directive if you will, is raising ADULTS who think, act and speak properly; who know right from wrong and choose right, even when no one is looking. There really isn't anything I won't forsake in pursuit of that goal. I will leave a full shopping cart, bail on a birthday party, and get up in the middle of a haircut if one of the children behaves in a way that requires attention and training. I don't have a more important job than training these 5 eternal souls entrusted to my care. It doesn't matter if other people think I've gone off my dot, or if my kids think I'm mean. It does matter that we see results that indicate progress, that we continually evaluate our strategies and make adjustments as necessary according to each child's temperament, needs, strengths and weaknesses. Our kids deserve to be parented purposefully. All children do.

Practical Wisdom

2008-10-19T21:02:00.001-05:00

This post challenged me today. I hope you'll check it out. It made me realize that, while I have a reasonably valid excuse for the clutter in my home right now, I have no excuse at all for the clutter in my life and in my heart. I can spend 30 minutes, 8 times a day searching myself for things that fall short of God's standard if I will just take the opportunity. I can confess my sins, pray for my family and friends, memorize God's Word and nourish my spirit while I nourish my little boy. This could cut into my Twittering.

In other news, our air conditioner is out. I know it's October, but this is Oklahoma and I'm a weenie. If it's 85 outside, Mama's got "bought air" inside. Also on the injured list: the dishwasher. It appears to fill with water, but the water, somehow, doesn't spray around enough to wash the dishes. I know. My grasp of Things Mechanical boggles the mind. Lastly, completing the Household Budget Bomb Trifecta, there's a leak under the kitchen sink. It appears to come from nowhere, though that is still under investigation.

Little Jesse seems to be struggling with reflux, and I'm doing everything I can to help the little fella out. This includes cutting dairy, caffeine and chocolate from my diet, among other, less traumatic adjustments. Y'all. I'm down to eating sticks and dirt here. That can't be good, can it?

So, to recap: My house is a mess and so is my life. I'm eating sticks and dirt off paper plates in the stifling heat and I have minihoonies peeing under my sink. This is going to be an interesting week.

He's a Magnet

2008-10-18T22:30:00.000-05:00

And I'm made of steel.

Thanks so much to my little sister for bringing her neato camera, the patience of Job and her artistic eye (and her other eye, too).

Mom, Interrupted

2008-10-17T22:51:00.000-05:00

It's 10:52pm, and as soon as I finish writing this, I'm going to bed. That presumes that I do actually finish writing this. And if I should manage to finish this post, it will have the distinction of being one of the rare few things I did finish today. I am Mom, Interrupted.

This morning at 7am I was nursing the baby and overseeing the beginning of the "Friday Cleaning". Now, after feeding a bunch of kids a bunch of times, supervising and correcting their attempts to clean up after themselves, and beginning a major clean-up of the little kids' room, I'm dog-tired and done in. The toilets are clean, but the bunk beds have no sheets. The dishes are done, but the tile floors need sweeping. I kept meaning to have someone sweep the front porch but that never got done, and we've had our Christmas wreath up since last Thanksgiving, to our neighbors' delight, no doubt. And my intention to re-claim our bedroom remains just that, my intention. Drat.

Today, what is aggravating me the most is all of the things that are half done. I wish I could go around the house and put a half-done bathroom with some half-done laundry and come up with one wholly-done something. So far, I haven't had any luck there. I want to look at how I'm going about all this stuff and see if there's not some way to streamline the efforts and end up with more completed tasks, even if it means fewer tasks begun. Does that make any sense? I'll keep you abreast of all developments, as I know this is riveting stuff.

In other news, I made a play date for next week with Shannon and Melanie. Can I just say for the record that I CAN NOT WAIT! I've been hankering to go ANYWHERE for any reason, or for no reason at all. This explains my eagerness to ride shotgun on Dan's trip to the Apple Store (the geographical center of the Universe, as far as he's concerned) to drop off his mom's computer to be repaired. The Apple Store is in the mall. I have a confirmed allergy to the mall, and yet I slapped on a little spackle and my dear Daring LipSlick (my little act of public service), put a semi-crabby baby in the car seat and rode my rosy pink rear to the mall. And I was glad to do it. So, yep, I'm definitely hard up for action.

And now, I will declare this post finished. It's 11:15pm and I'm going to try going to bed in the same day that I got up. Novel concept, no?

Why Photos Are Best Done By the Pros

2008-10-17T09:11:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday, we loaded up the minivan and made the 2-hour trip to visit Dan's grandfather. Grandan, as we call him, had turned 95 the week before and we had some homemade goodies to bring him. Also, we wanted to introduce him to his namesake, our 6-week-old baby Jesse Winston. The trip was uneventful, if, by uneventful I am understood to mean minimal bickering and only one bathroom stop. We arrived and paraded the herd into Grandan's home, which he built in the '50's and lives alone in today. Let's just say that as we tromped in, Peace tromped out, dragging Quiet along behind.

One of my primary goals for this visit was to take pictures of baby Jesse with his great-grandfather Winston.

Now, our child is not normally cross-eyed and my husband doesn't normally smile like a used-car salesman. Poor Grandan had to endure an eternity of high-pitched baby calls, puncutated with every mild expletive I know, with the occasional "get down from there, Seth." It was torture, I tell you.

I took 61 pictures.
These are the best of the bunch.
It's the thought that counts, right?
To appreciate the full catastrophe, click on the pictures to view them full size.

And Now, For Your Reading Pleasure...

2008-10-15T23:17:00.000-05:00

...a meme! Jules tagged me, and I'm in the mood to play along. Here goes.

SIX RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME

6. I'm not sentimental. I don't have all my kids' baby teeth or their first locks of hair. At times it makes me feel terribly practical. Other times, I just feel kind of terrible. I've tried to manufacture sentimentality, but it just won't come. My mother-in-law is alternately puzzled and horrified by the stuff I don't hang on to.

5. My brain is a vast repository of useless knowledge. I know the lyrics to thousands of songs, I can remember every phone number I've ever had and the names of our neighbors when I was 3. I have to call the pediatrician to ask which of the kids have had chicken pox. Strange but true.

4. I was stung by a jellyfish as a kid. My stepmom made me let my stepcousin (is that even a word?) pee on my foot. Then she put meat tenderizer on it and wrapped it in gauze.

3. I always know two ways out of any place I'm in. I'm certain that the day will come when a fire, tsunami, terrorist or someone with really bad gas is going to alarm and disorient everyone in the room and I will need to have already scoped out all exiting options. When faced with an emergency, most people will automatically try to leave through the door they came in. I, on the other hand, will be safe and sound while everyone else is stuck in a fire or cloud of flatulence, may God have mercy on your souls.

2. I made a record when I was 12. In the interest of full disclosure, I made the record with a couple hundred other 5th and 6th graders, but I'm on the album cover. With the other couple hundred kids. You can pick me out by the large afro and the reflection in my giant eyeglasses. It's a good picture because you can't really see my buck teeth.

1. I'm thinking of hiring a professional organizer to arrange my iTunes. I've made a few false starts, but I got overwhelmed. I know there's got to be some way to arrange and sort my music library, but I'm having the darndest time. As a result, I'll pop my headphones in, hit "shuffle" and end up jamming to "I'm the Map!" I can handle the garage, the attic and the kids' bedrooms, but the iTunes, it mocks me.

Now, I'd love to know 6 random things about YOU! If you play along on your blog, let us know in the comments so everyone can come check it out. I know many of you have done this meme or one like it, so I hope you'll leave us a link to your random things list.

WFMW: Turn Down the Volume

2008-10-14T23:18:00.000-05:00

I wrote in this post that I don't yell at my children. I meant that sincerely. I really don't yell. Shannon emailed me about another subject, but asked me to tell her how I managed the not yelling and subsequently pronounced my reply post-worthy, so here it is.

Of course, I never intended to yell at my kids. I had been yelled at, and I knew how it felt. I knew I'd never do such a thing. Then I actually had the kids. Yelling came frighteningly easily to me. I didn't yell profanities or threats. I didn't scream vulgarities. I simply raised my volume because I wanted to be heard. Or to make a point. To a three-year-old. I can't think of anything more frightening to a 37-pound child than a giant grown-up towering overhead and yelling. I knew this wasn't the kind of mother I wanted to be. I always meant to never yell again, and when I failed I felt like a complete monster. I brought up the subject with my Mothering Mentor, who said, "Yelling is lazy mothering." Ouch. She added, "Purpose in your heart not to raise your voice." I thought that was what I was doing after every yelling episode, but I was mistaken. She went on to tell me HOW to go about it.

First, she told me to pray about it specifically every day for 6 months. Whether it was currently a problem or not, I was to bring this habit before the Lord every single day. This had the effect of keeping me acutely aware of my desire not to raise my voice. The result was that the instances of yelling immediately decreased dramatically.

Next, she had me search the Scriptures for specific passages relating to this struggle. She didn't give me any hints, either. I found a few that really spoke to me and I committed them to memory.

Lastly, she suggested that I make a plan. I was to come up with a new routine that I could employ instead of yelling. Now, when I need to make myself heard, I stop what I'm doing and go to the person I need to address. I put my hands on them in a loving way and wait for them to make eye contact with me. Then I tell them what I have to say in a soft, controlled voice. This serves me in that it ensures that what I say is exactly what I mean, no more and no less. It keeps me from just popping off with the first thing that comes to mind. I have stopped the van at times to get out, go around to the passenger side and lean into the back seat to deliver instruction. The children know that if I've stopped the car, somebody's going to lose a Nintendo DS.

It takes a lot of extra time at first, but now, 15 years down the road, I can honestly say that it saves me time, since I don't ever have to repeat myself and my children have been trained to attend to my voice and obey the first time. I've received a return on the extra time a hundredfold. Another benefit is that, in this household of 7, there isn't any yelling.

Not yelling works for me. For more great tips, head on over to Rocks in My Dryer.

Never Underestimate Your Influence

2008-10-13T16:57:00.000-05:00

Thank goodness for Twitter! Another of the fine ladies I follow, Natalie Witcher, posted a fine piece o' bloggin' today. As I was composing my comment and began my third paragraph, it occurred to me that I didn't need to hijack Natalie's comments. I HAVE A BLOG! Of my very own! So here is another post, brought to you, in a round about sort of way, by the fine folks at Twitter.

I have a 12-year-old daughter. She loves animals, particularly horses. She is learning to apply makeup. She tends to write or draw out her feelings rather than talk about them. She also plays the harp. She has occasionally lamented her calloused fingers with their short nails and thick, muscular construction. Her friends have dainty fingers, and a few of them sport stylish manicures. This child has gorgeous, chocolate-brown eyes, legs for days (NOT inherited from her mother. Whatever.) and what can only be described as "Jhirmack Bounceback Beautiful Hair" (and if you're not old enough to get that reference, I'm not sure we can be friends because I'm obviously old enough to be your babysitter). My point is that she's a lovely girl with many attributes that I would think would be much more noticeable than fingers, but what does she think about when she looks at herself? That's right. Her fingers.

Yesterday, there was a plumber here. He saw the harp in our music room and asked me if I played it. I laughed and told him that our daughter was the harpist. He remarked that he'd never seen a harp in person, so I asked if he'd like to hear her play. "If it's not too much trouble, yes ma'am, I'd love to hear a song," said the giant black man in the plumber's uniform. Olivia sat down, pulled the harp back and adjusted the pedals. The plumber pulled a chair up close and watched in rapt attention as she played Beethoven's Glissando Waltz. When she finished, he gave her a standing ovation that I could tell came from the bottom of his heart. He said he'd always remember that day and told her that if she stayed with it, she would bless a lot of people someday. She thanked him, I paid him and he went on his way.

Later, Olivia decided to polish the short nails on her thick fingers a startling shade of blue.

I have a feeling we may have entertained an angel unawares.

Cheaper Than Therapy

2008-10-12T23:12:00.000-05:00

I follow Stephanie (who writes so engagingly at Adventures in Babywearing) on Twitter. Tonight she linked to her post at Close to Home and I clicked over because I really don't need any more sleep. She took up a challenge from Heather at The Extraordinary Ordinary to write about what she's doing right as a mother. After reading Heather's original post and then reading the comments generated by that post, I determined that I would participate. I need to think about what I'm doing well as a mom. I really need to think about it right now. Today. This minute.

My first inclination is to say, "Well, I do have these couple of things that I probably suck less at..." I realize that defeats the purpose of the exercise and is not an encouragement to me or anyone else. So now, stream-of-semi-consciousness, I will simply list the things that I do well as I mother the 5 children God has seen fit to entrust to my care. My hope is that you will read this list and see some of the things that you do well and that will get you thinking about other things you're good at, and perhaps even rock at, and your head will be lifted. I don't know about you, but it's past time for me to look up and get a little perspective.

Here's the list:

I make my kids laugh
I love their daddy, and I let them know it
I tell them when I've messed up and ask their forgiveness
I read the Scriptures to them
I pray for them
I'm consistent in discipline
I don't yell
I make a priority of helping them grow their relationships with each other
I praise them sincerely

I've been told that I am a good mother, to which I generally respond, "I just try to be good enough." I realize now that that is a terrible response. When my mother or husband or friend tells me they think I'm doing a good job, I will thank them sincerely and acknowledge that it is by the grace of God that I am able to do anything well at all. To Him alone be the glory.

I'd love to read your list of what you do well as a mother. Leave a comment here and a link at Heather's place if you decide to play along.

Because I'm Too Broke to Go to Target

2008-10-11T12:07:00.000-05:00

I'd love to have a new purse. I can't justify the purchase right now, mostly because I'm too weak to serve my family gruel while I have a stylish new bag thrown jauntily over my left shoulder. But I have hope. The generous folks at www.handbagplanet.com are giving away goo-gobs of handbags and I've registered to win one. I might get a new purse, and there might be meat in tonight's dinner. It's what we like to call a might win-might win.

I've Been Thinking

2008-10-10T23:17:00.000-05:00

Having Jesse, and him being such a new little thing, is naturally making me think back to when the older four were tiny and new. To my great disappointment, I don't remember near as much about those days as I would like to. Then there are the memories of mistakes and wrong turns and so very many things I'd do differently if I had the chance. Of course, what's done is done.

I tell myself that I'll take more pictures and more walks. That I'll read more books and give more praise. That I'll be more patient and more fun, pray more and yell less. That I'll get it right this time. I feel like the David, the writer of Psalm 40: "...my sins have overtaken me and I cannot see. They are more than the hairs of my head, and my heart fails within me".

So, what's a mother to do? The only thing I know to do is look to the God who made me. I find encouragement and correction in the Bible. There is instruction and reproof. I see my own failures and God's great provision. I find the Truth, and that Truth sets me free. I can work myself into a world-class funk thinking about my own failures as a mother, but I don't have to. I can decide what to think, and I choose whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things (Phillipians 4:8).

I encourage you to do the same.

Twitter

2008-10-09T23:06:00.000-05:00

Oh, how I love Twitter! I said one time that Twitter is to blogging what bungee jumping is to suicide: all the excitement, none of the commitment. In 140 characters, I've managed to sum up just about everything in my life. I'm not sure if that makes me very clever or boring in the extreme. I can sign on to Twitter and all of a sudden, I'm walking into a really cool hangout where there's always someone there I like and they're always saying something interesting, informative, entertaining, offbeat or thought-provoking. It's like being allowed to eavesdrop on people's lives, and it's crazy addictive. I use Twitterrific on my iPhone so I don't have to miss a single tweet.

Don't even get me started on the followers. Y'all. I have 72 followers. Do you have any idea how long this type-A, first born has wanted FOLLOWERS? In the great Twitter scheme of things, 72 isn't that many followers, either. Lots of folks have hundreds upon hundreds of followers, which is fine. I'm grateful that, for reasons known only to God and possibly the Keebler Elves, 72 people want to be notified immediately when our cat yaks in the laundry basket or I find my son's Booger Wall. Let us all take a moment now to thank God for the Information Age.

Amen.

I do have a few questions, however. "Retweeting" eludes me. I get the purpose, but I can't seem to figure how it's done. Also, how/why do people I've never heard of find me? My updates are protected simply because I got tired of the spammy-type followers, so when someone wants to start getting my updates, they have to make a request. If they don't seem spammy, they're in. But how in the world did they find me in the first place? It's a stumper, my friends. Lastly, what is the '#' for? What does it do?

I am especially proud of having figured out (to a small degree) StumbleUpon. GIANT TIME SUCK, but fascinating on so many levels. I stumbled some of the most bizzarre content on the Internet today, which explains why my shoes are in the middle of the floor and my preschooler had instant oatmeal for dinner. I'm pretty sure the Mother of the Year people will be calling any minute. I just hope they find me before the Health Department does.

We Think He's Pretty Great

2008-10-09T08:52:00.000-05:00

Our new little guy is 6 weeks old now, and we think he's the cat's pajamas. I'm a little concerned about what he thinks of us, since this is how he looks at us much of the time:

On the Occasion of His 9th Birthday

2008-10-08T23:39:00.000-05:00

Here's a reprint from my first attempt at blogging. I wanted to put something on here to commemorate my first son's 9th birthday. He's on a break from vision therapy (I'd call it maternity leave, but that would seem weird), but the story bears telling. Mercy me, how I love this boy!

Seth is such a fascinating creature. Being his mother has taught me so much about God, faith, growth and slickin' down hair (his always looks like he just combed it with an egg beater).

He was born with a cataract in his left eye. When he was 5, he had surgery to remove the clouded lens of his eye and have an artificial lens put in. Since then, he's been in vision therapy to correct his strabismus, esotropia and amplyopia (which is what I'd have named triplets if I'd ever had them).

Because the vision in his two eyes is so disparate, his brain had shut off his cataract eye and just interpreted images from his intact eye. One-eyed vision provides no depth perception. Even with the cloudy cataract removed and a crystal clear new lens implant in place, Seth's brain still didn't recognize the signal coming from his "bad" eye. So we began vision therapy to reintroduce his brain to his left eye and get them on speaking terms again.

Blah, blah, blah, and so on and so on. <--That's me skipping the technical stuff. In August '06, Seth had no depth perception. Not a glimmer. Not a whit. Depth perception is measured in arcs per second. 40 is about perfect. 80 is okay. 800 is the worst that can be measured. Seth's was incalculable. More than 800. Probably more like a patrillion, but that's just a guess, and (I'll tell you since it's probably not obvious) I'm not really that technical. Eight months later, he scored 100.

ONE OH OH.

On the chart. Measurable, repeatable, reliable. It was a banner day at the Wilson Domicile, as this one little victory represents daily, difficult, exhausting visual work. There's still so much work to do, but this little measurement is like a Gatorade and Powerbar combo meal that will keep us going a while longer. We will run with perseverance the race marked out for us. He marked it, we'll run it. To God be the glory, we'll glory in our portion.

Establishing the precedent that I can spiritualize anything: I will now give my theological insights on the above experience:

Seth was born with a condition that got worse as he grew (like sin). In fact, the mere act of growing increased the severity of his problem (like sin). His brain's way of coping with the visual deficit was to shut off the signal from that eye. Just ignore it. Make do with what the right eye could see. It was the only solution his brain could provide, and it gave him better vision than a mixed-up, partly cloudy image. We were created to see clearly and that was his brain's way of dealing with the problem.

Enter a great physician. He examined the problem, identified it and made a plan to remove the cloudy lens and replace it with a specially made, specifically calculated, individually designed replacement. A cut was made, the offending object was smashed to bits and sucked out, and a pristine new one was perfectly placed. Hooray! Success! Salvation!

End of story. Not.

The bad lens is out and the good lens is in, but the brain doesn't know the difference.

We spent at least an hour and a half every cotton pickin' day giving Seth's eyes specific jobs to do that would wake up and train his brain's visual system. Stimulate with light, train with exercise, deprive the "good" eye with patches. Stimulate. Train. Deprive. And wait. Just like the good work begun in us.

There are encouraging signs, little ones, that those of us who know Seth can see. And occasionally, there are big signs, like the test results above, that can be measured. Make no mistake, friends, the work is being done with the end nowhere in sight. The road is long and rocky and pretty lonesome sometimes, but God is here. Pulling us up, pushing us on, lighting the next step.

Depth perception. Seeing not just height and width, but perceiving that the object being viewed has depth. Lord, give me depth perception.

Welcome!

2008-10-08T23:02:00.000-05:00

I've decided to try my hand at this blogging thing again. Not that I have such a terrible lot to say, you understand, but because sometimes it feels like if I don't get the random out somewhere my head will explode. I'm having a hard time even knowing where to begin. Over time, I'm sure I'll cover all the bases. For now, I hope a few folks will stop by now and then and leave a comment or two. That would be grand.

Also, if you'd like the chance to read every brilliant thought that skitters across the landscape of my mind, you can follow me on Twitter. OH, and because I have SO MUCH free time, I also have a page on Facebook. Everything you ever wanted to know, and then some.