Checking in from the Quality Inn in Roanoke, VA, where we just stumbled in with sleeping and sleepy children about 20 minutes ago. Wow, a LONG day on the road -- about 12 hours in the car and most of them spent traversing Tennessee! It's the state that never ends.
We spent last night in Memphis enjoying the gracious hospitality of my childhood friend Aaron Lawson and his lovely wife Liz. I've only seen him once since he got married, although I saw him practically every day growing up together in our smallish town and church. Now that I've witnessed him living the married life, complete with house and job that he suffers through (seventh grade science teacher, bless his heart), I think it's finally sunk in that this kid who was like a brother to me is actually a grown man now, a full-fledged and very responsible adult, instead of being forever frozen in time as an endearingly clueless teenager. I just reread that and realized how patronizing it sounded, which I totally don't mean, but I"m not changing it in case someone understands exactly what I do mean. Plus, as I love to quote Tracee, it is MY blog. ;-)
As we passed through Johnson City tonight there was that fateful moment where I-40 splits off to go toward Asheville, N.C., and I knew that if we were to follow that road south and keep going, we'd end up in Greenville/Simpsonville, site of five years' worth of fond memories and home still to some dear friends. I feel a little wistful, having been only a couple hours away for the first time in nearly three years. Three years ago exactly, some of those dear friends were caring for my family -- stocking the fridge, bringing meals and pumped breastmilk for my two-day-old newborn, keeping my older children for very long playdates, praying for us, while I lay in the ICU with what the doctors called "a whopping case of pneumonia." I'm not missing that experience, of course, but missing some of the people and the surroundings that made us feel so blessed through it all.
P.S. I'm way behind on Google Reader, so don't be offended if you're missing comments from me these days ...
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Like a herd o' turtles ...
... we're off! No, not really. We will be in the morning, hopefully only 30 minutes or so behind schedule, and maybe even with Tim and I NOT irritated with each other for making us late. Oh, sweet matrimonial bliss ...
(You know I love that guy -- it's just more of a choice than a sensation when travel is involved.)
The suitcases are packed, a mass of in-car entertainment items assembled. What a bunch of brilliant travelers all you commenters are!
I have done SOME of the important stuff, but not all:
- I have organized a care schedule among all my siblings for my dad while we are there. But I have not organized a cooking/cleaning schedule like I said I would.
- I have used Photoshop Elements to make a family bingo game for postprandial entertainment on Turkey Day. Twelve different bingo cards, hopefully with an entertainment value of more than five minutes. But I have not organized any scrapbooking stuff to take with me.
- I have done loads upon loads of laundry, run errands, packed items into suitcases. But I have pretty much neglected my children's education this week, until we read the most delightful Grace for President
at dinner tonight. Oh, I guess we did finish The Witch of Blackbird Pond (Yearling Newbery)
. And hung out with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib for a quick visit. Eliza is pouring on the you-must-give-me-your-full-attention-now charm, a surefire way to get me to call on the Lord under my breath. I wonder if I packed her enough warm clothes. I hear they wear sweaters up north this time of year. Huh. Sweaters.
Could we be a bit tired? Could our shoulders be a bit tight? Could our writing lack some sparkle and luster right now? Could we go so far as to say that it should be time for bed?
Safe travels to all of you in the coming days; I'll catch up when I can!
xoxo
(You know I love that guy -- it's just more of a choice than a sensation when travel is involved.)
The suitcases are packed, a mass of in-car entertainment items assembled. What a bunch of brilliant travelers all you commenters are!
I have done SOME of the important stuff, but not all:
- I have organized a care schedule among all my siblings for my dad while we are there. But I have not organized a cooking/cleaning schedule like I said I would.
- I have used Photoshop Elements to make a family bingo game for postprandial entertainment on Turkey Day. Twelve different bingo cards, hopefully with an entertainment value of more than five minutes. But I have not organized any scrapbooking stuff to take with me.
- I have done loads upon loads of laundry, run errands, packed items into suitcases. But I have pretty much neglected my children's education this week, until we read the most delightful Grace for President
at dinner tonight. Oh, I guess we did finish The Witch of Blackbird Pond (Yearling Newbery)
. And hung out with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib for a quick visit. Eliza is pouring on the you-must-give-me-your-full-attention-now charm, a surefire way to get me to call on the Lord under my breath. I wonder if I packed her enough warm clothes. I hear they wear sweaters up north this time of year. Huh. Sweaters.
Could we be a bit tired? Could our shoulders be a bit tight? Could our writing lack some sparkle and luster right now? Could we go so far as to say that it should be time for bed?
Safe travels to all of you in the coming days; I'll catch up when I can!
xoxo
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Happy Birthday, Caroline!
Since she turns three today, let's paint by numbers for today's post.
Three Reasons I Love Caroline:
1. She has a terrifically clever wit, and we both think the same things are funny. Plus, the faces! Aunt Kristen caught a good one here.
2. She has a freaky sense of visual recall. She remembers places we've been once, months ago, and is always surprising me by saying stuff like, "Mom, this looks just like the neighborhood where the ____ live."
3. She gives the tenderest hugs and has the softest cheeks for kissing.
Three Non-Candy Items that Fell Out of Her Birthday Pinata:
1. cherry chapsticks
2. peanut butter cracker packages
3. travel-size bottles of shower gel and Scope (what can I say, my kids like mouthwash)
Three Birthday Party Activities:
1. Decorating party hats
2. Riding Prince the pony (thank you Aunt Jenni!)
3. Musical Chairs, organized by cousin Ashley (hurray for my in-laws and their giant, empty basement where kids can run wild)
Three Items of Apparel She Received:
1. Princess dress and "bling-bling", worn to co-op the very next day
2. Care Bear T-shirt (because that's what we call her)
3. The world's cutest, fluffiest, handmade TUTU (with garland & wristlets) -- and here we interrupt this broadcast to heartily endorse the handiwork of Kristen at Baby Makes Three, who whipped this up to meet my short time frame and even got it here ahead of time. SO BEAUTIFUL, so twirly, that if you have a little girl in your life you simply must indulge her. Keep me company. (Did I mention that this is HANDMADE by a fellow mom? Oh, I did? Oh, okay.)
(We might be making Twirliness History here.)
Three ways her brother described her on his birthday card for her:
1. A hot ticket (overheard that one from his Opa)
2. Cute as cute can get
3. Deserves $100,000!
Yep, we'll keep 'er.
Three Reasons I Love Caroline:
1. She has a terrifically clever wit, and we both think the same things are funny. Plus, the faces! Aunt Kristen caught a good one here.
2. She has a freaky sense of visual recall. She remembers places we've been once, months ago, and is always surprising me by saying stuff like, "Mom, this looks just like the neighborhood where the ____ live."
3. She gives the tenderest hugs and has the softest cheeks for kissing.
Three Non-Candy Items that Fell Out of Her Birthday Pinata:
1. cherry chapsticks
2. peanut butter cracker packages
3. travel-size bottles of shower gel and Scope (what can I say, my kids like mouthwash)
Three Birthday Party Activities:
1. Decorating party hats
2. Riding Prince the pony (thank you Aunt Jenni!)
3. Musical Chairs, organized by cousin Ashley (hurray for my in-laws and their giant, empty basement where kids can run wild)
Three Items of Apparel She Received:
1. Princess dress and "bling-bling", worn to co-op the very next day
2. Care Bear T-shirt (because that's what we call her)
3. The world's cutest, fluffiest, handmade TUTU (with garland & wristlets) -- and here we interrupt this broadcast to heartily endorse the handiwork of Kristen at Baby Makes Three, who whipped this up to meet my short time frame and even got it here ahead of time. SO BEAUTIFUL, so twirly, that if you have a little girl in your life you simply must indulge her. Keep me company. (Did I mention that this is HANDMADE by a fellow mom? Oh, I did? Oh, okay.)
(We might be making Twirliness History here.)Three ways her brother described her on his birthday card for her:
1. A hot ticket (overheard that one from his Opa)
2. Cute as cute can get
3. Deserves $100,000!
Yep, we'll keep 'er.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Calling all Road Warriors
I may have mentioned that we're planning to drive up the road a piece this weekend. As in, all the way to Massachusetts. It's not like I think this is going to be easy, but I start feeling vaguely disturbed every time I announce our intentions to a friend or acquaintance and hear a double-take. "Wow, that is a LONG DRIVE," they'll say. Really? I hadn't looked at it that way! I start to wonder whether we're being incredibly naive to think we can undertake such a journey, as if there's some detail we're overlooking that's very obvious to everyone else.
I've been trying to stockpile in-car entertainment items for everyone without relying too heavily on DVD's. Here's a mostly-complete list of what we have so far:
Audiobooks (Farmer Boy, Trumpet of the Swan, short ones on loan from generous neighbor)
Plastic lapdesks
Art supplies, various
Travel bingo
Rubiks cube
Old Boys' Life magazines, huge stack
Oh my gracious glorious galumphing goodness, to borrow from P.L. Travers. That list looks awfully short. Either that or my memory is toast. Probably the latter.
So, cough up, people. Give me your best ideas for free/cheap road trip fun! Twenty Questions, we know. I'm Packing My Suitcase, yupperdoodles. What else????
In return for your brilliant bits of insight, I will share with you these pictures from Ian's improv troop performance last Tuesday. My sister and I sat there laughing our nearly-identical heads off.
I've been trying to stockpile in-car entertainment items for everyone without relying too heavily on DVD's. Here's a mostly-complete list of what we have so far:
Audiobooks (Farmer Boy, Trumpet of the Swan, short ones on loan from generous neighbor)
Plastic lapdesks
Art supplies, various
Travel bingo
Rubiks cube
Old Boys' Life magazines, huge stack
Oh my gracious glorious galumphing goodness, to borrow from P.L. Travers. That list looks awfully short. Either that or my memory is toast. Probably the latter.
So, cough up, people. Give me your best ideas for free/cheap road trip fun! Twenty Questions, we know. I'm Packing My Suitcase, yupperdoodles. What else????
In return for your brilliant bits of insight, I will share with you these pictures from Ian's improv troop performance last Tuesday. My sister and I sat there laughing our nearly-identical heads off.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
A dark and windy night
(Note: I wrote this on Friday night, but due to the storm mentioned below, our modem got fried. Like, all-out gone-a-rific. Because, truly, in a month like this one, we NEEDED to go out and buy a new modem. That giant sucking sound you hear in the background is the last shred of this month's budget disappearing. Geronimo!)
Ooooohh, it's so wiiiiiindy out there tonight. A cold front (and we use the term "cold" very loosely around here) has blustered in from somewhere and arrived with a vengeance, sweeping emphatically through the trees, stealing our electricity for a little while, and making me feel, as I snuggled in the bed with a sleep-resistant toddler, that houses, warm and cozy with four solid walls, are very good things indeed.
The girls both had trouble falling asleep tonight, possibly due to their chocolate chip and peanut butter consumption this afternoon. Ah, the magic of caffeine. Caroline in general will never win awards for champion sleeper, and I'm guessing it's the chocolate that's disturbed the fragile balance tonight. It baffles me, though, how a child who has not slept during her naptime for over a week doesn't just push off for the Land of Nod when the sun goes down.
This sleep thing has tested me repeatedly during my parenting career. Apparently I'm a bit thick in the head, or I'm like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, destined to repeat the same fate over and over again until the lesson is truly learned. Here's what I think it is: Children are people, not robots. They have no "off" switch for our convenience. As much as it seems that "other people's children" drowse off to dreamland compliantly, at the same time, every night, it ain't necessarily so.
So when they're tossing and turning and wanting to discuss hot topics with you about an hour after you thought they'd nod off, and they're all worked up because the lights went out and THERE MUST BE MONSTERS IN THE HALLWAY, and the bed is deemed "boring," and they're in a fit of indecision about whether to use the iPod for their nightly "Golden Slumbers" marathon or not, and you just want to shout, for the 43rd time, "LIE DOWN AND GO TO SLEEP!!!"
Yeah, right then? Because that's such a soothing thing for children to experience when they can't settle?
Right then is when you face the hard truth that while it's easy to be a good parent when the children are charming, it's time to be a wise parent when they're, well, not.
I can fuss at them and sigh loudly and sit there resenting the fact that tonight of all nights, BOTH girls want someone with them right there until they fall asleep. I can whine to my husband while he whines to me (we're mature that way). I can question my parenting choices and abilities. Oh yes, I can.
Or I can lie there, reading a book or not, breathing in the smell of baby shampoo, feeling the small arms tighten around my neck, ignoring the clock, letting sleep come when it's good and ready. Remembering that this is a life, not a job with shifts that end at 8 p.m. Not just enduring, but embracing.
"I love you, Mama," the almost-three-year-old whispers, her warm, milky breath tickling my ear.
"I love you, too," I whisper back, meaning it.
P.S. The MRI results came back today. "You don't have a brain tumor," the nurse announced soberly over the phone.
"But you do have a sinus infection."
I was at CVS scooping up my antibiotics faster than you could say "two-week headache." Hurray!
Ooooohh, it's so wiiiiiindy out there tonight. A cold front (and we use the term "cold" very loosely around here) has blustered in from somewhere and arrived with a vengeance, sweeping emphatically through the trees, stealing our electricity for a little while, and making me feel, as I snuggled in the bed with a sleep-resistant toddler, that houses, warm and cozy with four solid walls, are very good things indeed.
The girls both had trouble falling asleep tonight, possibly due to their chocolate chip and peanut butter consumption this afternoon. Ah, the magic of caffeine. Caroline in general will never win awards for champion sleeper, and I'm guessing it's the chocolate that's disturbed the fragile balance tonight. It baffles me, though, how a child who has not slept during her naptime for over a week doesn't just push off for the Land of Nod when the sun goes down.
This sleep thing has tested me repeatedly during my parenting career. Apparently I'm a bit thick in the head, or I'm like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, destined to repeat the same fate over and over again until the lesson is truly learned. Here's what I think it is: Children are people, not robots. They have no "off" switch for our convenience. As much as it seems that "other people's children" drowse off to dreamland compliantly, at the same time, every night, it ain't necessarily so.
So when they're tossing and turning and wanting to discuss hot topics with you about an hour after you thought they'd nod off, and they're all worked up because the lights went out and THERE MUST BE MONSTERS IN THE HALLWAY, and the bed is deemed "boring," and they're in a fit of indecision about whether to use the iPod for their nightly "Golden Slumbers" marathon or not, and you just want to shout, for the 43rd time, "LIE DOWN AND GO TO SLEEP!!!"
Yeah, right then? Because that's such a soothing thing for children to experience when they can't settle?
Right then is when you face the hard truth that while it's easy to be a good parent when the children are charming, it's time to be a wise parent when they're, well, not.
I can fuss at them and sigh loudly and sit there resenting the fact that tonight of all nights, BOTH girls want someone with them right there until they fall asleep. I can whine to my husband while he whines to me (we're mature that way). I can question my parenting choices and abilities. Oh yes, I can.
Or I can lie there, reading a book or not, breathing in the smell of baby shampoo, feeling the small arms tighten around my neck, ignoring the clock, letting sleep come when it's good and ready. Remembering that this is a life, not a job with shifts that end at 8 p.m. Not just enduring, but embracing.
"I love you, Mama," the almost-three-year-old whispers, her warm, milky breath tickling my ear.
"I love you, too," I whisper back, meaning it.
P.S. The MRI results came back today. "You don't have a brain tumor," the nurse announced soberly over the phone.
"But you do have a sinus infection."
I was at CVS scooping up my antibiotics faster than you could say "two-week headache." Hurray!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
More on thankfulness
I'm going to try very hard not to let this post descend into Pollyanna-ville. It's not meant to be glib or unreasonably cheerful. After all, if there weren't the struggle behind it, there'd be no reason for my practice.
Today I decided to challenge myself with the encouragement in 1 Thessalonions chapter 5: "In everything give thanks." I think I did it because as I climbed into bed last night, feeling rather low about the 2-week headache, I moaned to my husband that it just didn't seem worth getting up in the morning to face another day of being in pain. This is definitely an evolving process, as you might guess, but here's how the game is playing out today.
"Lord, it is 8:00 a.m. and there is a Monopoly game strewn all over my living room."
Thank You, Lord, that my children like playing together so much. Thank You that they have time to do this at such an hour of the morning rather than running in separate directions.
"Laundry, laundry, laundry! I can never keep up! Will it ever end?"
Lord, thank You that we all have clothes to wear. Dirty clothes mean clothes that have been worn. Thank You that we never have to go involuntarily naked.
"Okay, will my son EVER get the concept of putting his folded clothes away neatly? When do the words "nice stack" sink in?"
Thank You that I have the time to teach him (again). Thank You for his good mind, which WILL grasp this concept before he goes to college.
"Lord, my youngest daughter just peed in the back yard and washed her nice white shirt in the chickens' watering trough."
Thank You, dear Lord, for her concern for living things ("Mom, can I pee in the grass? The grass is saying to me (squeaky voice), "Caroline, I'm thirsty! Please water me!") and for her growing level of independence that inspires her to do her own laundry.
"Isn't it interesting how my son seems to challenging every direction I give him this morning!"
Lord, thank You for his tenacious personality. Thank You for his strong will. May he choose you with all his heart and hold to You with that same intensity.
"Lord, some of my children aren't grasping the concept of "library voices." I can hear them, shrieking about Spongebob, all the way over in the adult section off to which I sneaked."
Thank You, Lord, that they feel so at home in the library. Thank You that the Austin librarians are nicer than the ones in Simpsonville. You know of whom I speak.
Grace for the day ...
Today I decided to challenge myself with the encouragement in 1 Thessalonions chapter 5: "In everything give thanks." I think I did it because as I climbed into bed last night, feeling rather low about the 2-week headache, I moaned to my husband that it just didn't seem worth getting up in the morning to face another day of being in pain. This is definitely an evolving process, as you might guess, but here's how the game is playing out today.
"Lord, it is 8:00 a.m. and there is a Monopoly game strewn all over my living room."
Thank You, Lord, that my children like playing together so much. Thank You that they have time to do this at such an hour of the morning rather than running in separate directions.
"Laundry, laundry, laundry! I can never keep up! Will it ever end?"
Lord, thank You that we all have clothes to wear. Dirty clothes mean clothes that have been worn. Thank You that we never have to go involuntarily naked.
"Okay, will my son EVER get the concept of putting his folded clothes away neatly? When do the words "nice stack" sink in?"
Thank You that I have the time to teach him (again). Thank You for his good mind, which WILL grasp this concept before he goes to college.
"Lord, my youngest daughter just peed in the back yard and washed her nice white shirt in the chickens' watering trough."
Thank You, dear Lord, for her concern for living things ("Mom, can I pee in the grass? The grass is saying to me (squeaky voice), "Caroline, I'm thirsty! Please water me!") and for her growing level of independence that inspires her to do her own laundry.
"Isn't it interesting how my son seems to challenging every direction I give him this morning!"
Lord, thank You for his tenacious personality. Thank You for his strong will. May he choose you with all his heart and hold to You with that same intensity.
"Lord, some of my children aren't grasping the concept of "library voices." I can hear them, shrieking about Spongebob, all the way over in the adult section off to which I sneaked."
Thank You, Lord, that they feel so at home in the library. Thank You that the Austin librarians are nicer than the ones in Simpsonville. You know of whom I speak.
Grace for the day ...
Monday, November 10, 2008
Three Things ...
... I'm thankful for today:
1. Getting to watch "Blue Planet" with some gigantic goggles so that I didn't descend into claustrophobic panic during my MRI (headache still among us).
2. The checker at Whole Foods -- the downtown flagship store -- deciding to give me an entire box of gluten-free pancake mix as a "free sample." No particular reason; I really was planning to pay for it.
3. My brother-in-law Allen, who turned thirty-six today and came over here with Kristen for carrot cake (from me and Central Market) and tons of smooches (from the kids). Oh, and Kristen, for babysitting on short notice -- so glad you're back in town!!! ;-)
1. Getting to watch "Blue Planet" with some gigantic goggles so that I didn't descend into claustrophobic panic during my MRI (headache still among us).
2. The checker at Whole Foods -- the downtown flagship store -- deciding to give me an entire box of gluten-free pancake mix as a "free sample." No particular reason; I really was planning to pay for it.
3. My brother-in-law Allen, who turned thirty-six today and came over here with Kristen for carrot cake (from me and Central Market) and tons of smooches (from the kids). Oh, and Kristen, for babysitting on short notice -- so glad you're back in town!!! ;-)
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