Yes, I'm still working my way through Agatha Christie's autobiography. The slowness of my reading has nothing to do with the book and everything to do with my energy level right now. It is still incredibly interesting. Here's a snippet I ran across today; Agatha Christie's favorite part of motherhood is the sense of discovery.
"There is nothing more thrilling in this world, I think, than having a child that is yours, and yet is mysteriously a stranger. You are the gate through which it came into the world, and you will be allowed to have charge of it for a period; after that it will leave you and blossom out into its own free life--and there it is, for you to watch, living its life in freedom. It is like a strange plant which you have brought home, planted, and can hardly wait to see how it will turn out."
I sometimes feel this way. Although there is much that a parent does to shape the character and direction of a child, the essential being is God-given. It seems like every year is a new discovery about what each of your blessings will eventually become.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
A Trip to Nana's...
Scott will be leaving tomorrow on his vacation to Nana's house. He's been packed for hours. The packing list includes 147 cars (yes, he counted them all twice to be sure), 10 army men, then after I suggested he pack some clothes he added three pairs of underwear. What else could a young man need for five days? So different from the girls!
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
From the Mom of Girls
You know, I never thought of myself as someone who would have a whole flock of girl babies running around. I grew up with three brothers in a not-so prissy farm-type atmosphere, so imagine my surprise when I found out that we would have another girl in September! I've decided to embrace the giggly, hairstyling, chocolate-loving, nail painting aspect of my mothering with gusto. In fact, Cara recently had her first sleepover, complete with giggling, beading, dressing up, and Barbie movies. (Minus the presence of the manly contingent of our family.)
All this rambling is completely beside the point, actually. On to today's review...
All this rambling is completely beside the point, actually. On to today's review...
I'm sure you recognize this ultra famous, many times over printed Renoir. It's called "Two Young Girls At The Piano". I have to say, I've always liked this painting...its color and innocence. It has taken on a new meaning to me recently, though, when I think about what my household will be like in a few short years. Soon I'll have a whole troop of sweet girlies playing piano and singing together, and what a joy that will be! I hope the girls continue to have a sweet, sisterly affection for each other through the teen and adult years.
Friday, August 3, 2012
No Mom, It's Really Not That Complicated
Well now, I had a humorous/humbling moment with the little old man last night. Scott spent a large part of the afternoon unsmiling, squinty-eyed and almost growling at the girls and me. This is completely abnormal for him. In fact, it is a rare thing for him to not be smiling and mellow. I immediately perked up and took notice.
The symptoms seemed to escalate after a minor punishment for arguing with his sister. Being of the character-building sort, I followed the little old man to his room for a heart to heart. What a great opportunity to teach and discuss the vices of anger and holding a grudge! I chatted. I talked about what makes me feel that way. I asked him questions. I saw no change. Hmmm...
He was perfectly polite, but unchanged. Still unsmiling, squinty-eyed and almost growling. Since there was no overtly rude or wrong behavior, I decided in my motherly wisdom to let him stay in his room and think about our in-depth conversation.
Not long thereafter, I saw an amazing transformation. He was smiling, giggling and making super funny jokes. Had my heart to heart changed his demeanor? Did our loving prayer time make the difference?
No. Actually what did the trick was the three bowls of heaping taco salad that he manfully snarfed down. Once the calories hit his bloodstream, he perked up in no time and was completely back to normal...running and playing cars with furious energy.
I had forgotten a fundamental consideration of raising a boy.
Sometimes there are no emotions attached to his behavior...he's probably just hungry again. Most problems with him are just that simple...feed the kid, put the kid to bed, see the kid get happy again. Poor little guy. Maybe the character lecture will prevent problems some other time when it actually applies!
The symptoms seemed to escalate after a minor punishment for arguing with his sister. Being of the character-building sort, I followed the little old man to his room for a heart to heart. What a great opportunity to teach and discuss the vices of anger and holding a grudge! I chatted. I talked about what makes me feel that way. I asked him questions. I saw no change. Hmmm...
He was perfectly polite, but unchanged. Still unsmiling, squinty-eyed and almost growling. Since there was no overtly rude or wrong behavior, I decided in my motherly wisdom to let him stay in his room and think about our in-depth conversation.
Not long thereafter, I saw an amazing transformation. He was smiling, giggling and making super funny jokes. Had my heart to heart changed his demeanor? Did our loving prayer time make the difference?
No. Actually what did the trick was the three bowls of heaping taco salad that he manfully snarfed down. Once the calories hit his bloodstream, he perked up in no time and was completely back to normal...running and playing cars with furious energy.
I had forgotten a fundamental consideration of raising a boy.
Sometimes there are no emotions attached to his behavior...he's probably just hungry again. Most problems with him are just that simple...feed the kid, put the kid to bed, see the kid get happy again. Poor little guy. Maybe the character lecture will prevent problems some other time when it actually applies!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
The Real Story of Cincinnati Chili, Part 5
To brush up after our extremely long break, here is the link for Part 4
Hannistina had just had her culinary dreams squelched by the beastly Georgio Ghiradelli. Oh what will she do?
Also, for some reason I decided that this was the beginning of Chapter 2. No, it doesn't make any sense whatsoever, but I really like the title I picked out, so we'll leave it in!
Chapter 2: A Banged Up BonMuffin
Hannistina felt the cold wind prick her skin as she marched down the sidewalk. Her eyes were focused on her destination, not wavering from the Post Office doors which came into view. Her arms tightly gripped the packages she carried as her mind still reeled from the wild ride of the evening before. She wanted to banish all thoughts of the night from her mind, but little memories pelted her, repeatedly bruising her already sore psyche. She struggled to keep her mind from the disastrous evening. Her hopes had been so high for the future, her dreams of a bon-bon business, the man of her dreams...oh, Georgio Ghiradelli was not the man of her dreams! He was arrogant! His words were horrific and his tact was deficient. How was it that all the men in her life turned out to be such duds?
Hannistina reached for the Post Office door just as it came flying open. She felt the blow from the body that had torn through the now open doorway. The shock had sent her body flying down to the hard, cold concrete.
"Oh, Miss Hershey, are you okay? I am so, so sorry..." The words from the assailant rang through her ears. She knew that voice, but the world was spinning too quickly. She tried to focus and noticed instead that a crowd was gathering. She tried to intensify the face above her, but the sun in her eyes blocked her view.
"May I help you up? Please, Miss Hershey, are you wounded?". The sun put a halo around her assailant and his features glowed with concern as he reached his hand down to help her up. Her heart fluttered at the thought of this unknown man becoming her knight in shining armor. Her dreams of this day often filled her mind. Her mind raced with anticipation as she accepted his hand and tried to recover what little of her dignity she could. As her body righted, her breath escaped along with the few remaining dignity shreds.
"Dudley!" was the only word that she could manage. He gently held her hand as she stood up, looking deeply into her eyes. Was it only a dream? Had she hit her head harder than she thought? Suddenly this man she had known since second grade seemed all new to her. The events of last night were all forgotten, as he bent to gather her belongings. The sun again glinted off his head, and she realized that it wasn't a halo, but the shine off his balding head causing the glow. Hannistina furrowed her brow. Perhaps she was just too dreamy lately. There was no reason to go overboard. It was only Dudley. She calmed her overwhelmed, fantasy-wracked brain and adjusted her thoughts back to normal, yet still found herself agreeing to lunch in his shop after her business with the USPS. His presence was comforting, and it was good to know he would understand her disappointment.
As he maneuvered his stocky frame around the table to the kitchen area of the shop, she was amazed by her urge to pour out the events of the previous night. He brought out his new Thanksgiving dinner wrap, a creation of turkey, stuffing and cranberry. Hannistina gazed skeptically at the concoction, then took a bite. She was immediately reminded of her last Thanksgiving with her Dad and his staff. She had been excited to be working in Italy until Thanksgiving rolled around. The meal had seemed so cold and unfamiliar there. Her thoughts wandered as she demolished more and more of Dudley's specialty.
"Listen, Hannistina, I think you were in the right. After all, what is food without love? I think the best food brings back memories and feelings of family. I know how to make many gourmet items, but you know what? I find that it is things like this ridiculous wrap that people keep coming back for over and over. They feel a connection with the food because it is comforting, and there is nothing wrong with that. It's the backbone of my business, in fact. " Dudley noticed her gaze focus on him and immediately reddened. Hannistina, stunned by such plain common sense, had locked eyes with him for a moment. Perhaps here right in front of her, lay the answer --Dudley could give her his opinion of the chili. He would know what would sell for sure; his shop had always been extremely popular. That was her answer--she would ask him--besides, she had to return his dishes anyway.
"Dudley, would you consider coming to my rescue one more time?" Hannistina requested as she batted her eyes demurely. Dudley flushed once again and his features glowed with pleasure. He jumped up from the table, jarring it soundly in his haste. He did not even notice the drinks on the table sloshing as he grandly bowed and waved his arms with flourish. Hannistina choked back the urge to snort with laughter. She managed restraint for a change, and showed only a calm smile.
"Mr. Dudley BonMuffin, would you accompany me to my home to taste my homespun concoction that Mr. Georgio Ghiradelli cruelly pronounced as food fit only for those lacking in taste and refinement?" she asked.
In answer, Dudley hurried to get their coats and assist her in every possible way...
Oh, what will he think? And how does he become banged up himself? You'll just have to wait until the next installment!
Hannistina had just had her culinary dreams squelched by the beastly Georgio Ghiradelli. Oh what will she do?
Also, for some reason I decided that this was the beginning of Chapter 2. No, it doesn't make any sense whatsoever, but I really like the title I picked out, so we'll leave it in!
Chapter 2: A Banged Up BonMuffin
Hannistina felt the cold wind prick her skin as she marched down the sidewalk. Her eyes were focused on her destination, not wavering from the Post Office doors which came into view. Her arms tightly gripped the packages she carried as her mind still reeled from the wild ride of the evening before. She wanted to banish all thoughts of the night from her mind, but little memories pelted her, repeatedly bruising her already sore psyche. She struggled to keep her mind from the disastrous evening. Her hopes had been so high for the future, her dreams of a bon-bon business, the man of her dreams...oh, Georgio Ghiradelli was not the man of her dreams! He was arrogant! His words were horrific and his tact was deficient. How was it that all the men in her life turned out to be such duds?
Hannistina reached for the Post Office door just as it came flying open. She felt the blow from the body that had torn through the now open doorway. The shock had sent her body flying down to the hard, cold concrete.
"Oh, Miss Hershey, are you okay? I am so, so sorry..." The words from the assailant rang through her ears. She knew that voice, but the world was spinning too quickly. She tried to focus and noticed instead that a crowd was gathering. She tried to intensify the face above her, but the sun in her eyes blocked her view.
"May I help you up? Please, Miss Hershey, are you wounded?". The sun put a halo around her assailant and his features glowed with concern as he reached his hand down to help her up. Her heart fluttered at the thought of this unknown man becoming her knight in shining armor. Her dreams of this day often filled her mind. Her mind raced with anticipation as she accepted his hand and tried to recover what little of her dignity she could. As her body righted, her breath escaped along with the few remaining dignity shreds.
"Dudley!" was the only word that she could manage. He gently held her hand as she stood up, looking deeply into her eyes. Was it only a dream? Had she hit her head harder than she thought? Suddenly this man she had known since second grade seemed all new to her. The events of last night were all forgotten, as he bent to gather her belongings. The sun again glinted off his head, and she realized that it wasn't a halo, but the shine off his balding head causing the glow. Hannistina furrowed her brow. Perhaps she was just too dreamy lately. There was no reason to go overboard. It was only Dudley. She calmed her overwhelmed, fantasy-wracked brain and adjusted her thoughts back to normal, yet still found herself agreeing to lunch in his shop after her business with the USPS. His presence was comforting, and it was good to know he would understand her disappointment.
As he maneuvered his stocky frame around the table to the kitchen area of the shop, she was amazed by her urge to pour out the events of the previous night. He brought out his new Thanksgiving dinner wrap, a creation of turkey, stuffing and cranberry. Hannistina gazed skeptically at the concoction, then took a bite. She was immediately reminded of her last Thanksgiving with her Dad and his staff. She had been excited to be working in Italy until Thanksgiving rolled around. The meal had seemed so cold and unfamiliar there. Her thoughts wandered as she demolished more and more of Dudley's specialty.
"Listen, Hannistina, I think you were in the right. After all, what is food without love? I think the best food brings back memories and feelings of family. I know how to make many gourmet items, but you know what? I find that it is things like this ridiculous wrap that people keep coming back for over and over. They feel a connection with the food because it is comforting, and there is nothing wrong with that. It's the backbone of my business, in fact. " Dudley noticed her gaze focus on him and immediately reddened. Hannistina, stunned by such plain common sense, had locked eyes with him for a moment. Perhaps here right in front of her, lay the answer --Dudley could give her his opinion of the chili. He would know what would sell for sure; his shop had always been extremely popular. That was her answer--she would ask him--besides, she had to return his dishes anyway.
"Dudley, would you consider coming to my rescue one more time?" Hannistina requested as she batted her eyes demurely. Dudley flushed once again and his features glowed with pleasure. He jumped up from the table, jarring it soundly in his haste. He did not even notice the drinks on the table sloshing as he grandly bowed and waved his arms with flourish. Hannistina choked back the urge to snort with laughter. She managed restraint for a change, and showed only a calm smile.
"Mr. Dudley BonMuffin, would you accompany me to my home to taste my homespun concoction that Mr. Georgio Ghiradelli cruelly pronounced as food fit only for those lacking in taste and refinement?" she asked.
In answer, Dudley hurried to get their coats and assist her in every possible way...
Oh, what will he think? And how does he become banged up himself? You'll just have to wait until the next installment!
Friday, July 27, 2012
My Little Pumpkin
I got my weekly email yesterday. You know, the one from Babycenter.com that marks your pregnancy week by week. In fact, even for those of you who are slightly detached from the pregnancy process, you probably are friends with someone on Facebook who posts hers with regularity for the world to see. I'm now officially two months from my due date.
My baby is the weight of four large navel oranges. That's real progress.
In the last month, we've moved up in the world from a head of cauliflower, to some type of squash or other, to the multiple oranges.
My question is this...why all the produce references? Is it suppose to inspire me to eat more healthfully despite the constant cravings for potato chips and fudge? Are the publishers condescending enough to assume that a food reference will always magically click? Are they possibly struggling with covert cannibalism?
My beef is this (ha, ha)...if you're going to constantly weigh your baby with food references, why not hit on things pregnant women want to think about and can really relate to?
"Congratulations! You are 12 weeks along. Your baby is the size of a Hershey's kiss..."
"Your baby has now achieved the weight of a single serving bag of M and M's..."
"This week baby is the length of a King size Reese's..."
"Hooray for you! Baby is growing rapidly and will soon be as large as a Family size bag of Late Night Tacos at Midnight Doritos..."
Now THAT would make for some interesting Facebook reading. Besides, it would be a more realistic representation of what pregnant women are really feeling. If we have to force ourselves to eat spinach when we really want Extreme Moosetracks, do you have to constantly rub it in?
And just so you know, according to my personal measuring methods, my baby is now roughly the size of one Russell Stover Assorted sampler box plus two small Whitman's sampler tins. <<sigh>> Leave me alone to dream now, just for a moment.
My baby is the weight of four large navel oranges. That's real progress.
In the last month, we've moved up in the world from a head of cauliflower, to some type of squash or other, to the multiple oranges.
My question is this...why all the produce references? Is it suppose to inspire me to eat more healthfully despite the constant cravings for potato chips and fudge? Are the publishers condescending enough to assume that a food reference will always magically click? Are they possibly struggling with covert cannibalism?
My beef is this (ha, ha)...if you're going to constantly weigh your baby with food references, why not hit on things pregnant women want to think about and can really relate to?
"Congratulations! You are 12 weeks along. Your baby is the size of a Hershey's kiss..."
"Your baby has now achieved the weight of a single serving bag of M and M's..."
"This week baby is the length of a King size Reese's..."
"Hooray for you! Baby is growing rapidly and will soon be as large as a Family size bag of Late Night Tacos at Midnight Doritos..."
Now THAT would make for some interesting Facebook reading. Besides, it would be a more realistic representation of what pregnant women are really feeling. If we have to force ourselves to eat spinach when we really want Extreme Moosetracks, do you have to constantly rub it in?
And just so you know, according to my personal measuring methods, my baby is now roughly the size of one Russell Stover Assorted sampler box plus two small Whitman's sampler tins. <<sigh>> Leave me alone to dream now, just for a moment.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Continuing on the Reading Theme...
I found this painting quite some time ago. In fact, I think it was before we even knew we were having baby #4. This struck a chord with me, of course, because I love to read aloud with my kids.
This painting is "Jungle Tales" by James Jebusa Shannon. You can just see how thrilled they are...and look...no pictures...small print! I've seen this look on my children's faces on occasion during read aloud time. Forget the millions of lesson plans for 'listening skills'. This is how learning to listen is truly accomplished...turning off the television and reading aloud on a regular basis.
As always, my reviews have pretty much nothing to do with the actual skill of the artwork. I just find art I like or art that makes me feel something. I figure, if it makes me think or remember or laugh, it's a medium worthy of attention. Doesn't this make you think of things you do with your children to build camaraderie and have fun in a calm and quiet way?
PS...this post has also been a good exercise for me. Apparently I've forgotten how to spell 'camaraderie' correctly. Thank you, dictionary.com! Must be time to start up with the word of the week again...
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