Precious

Y'all know I am not one to use this space for going on and on about how perfect my kiddos are. That would be a) annoying, b) misleading -- they're humans! Just like me!, and c) far more pressure than any child should have to bear. They're children, not parenting trophies.

But every once in a while, I get a glimpse of the beautiful people they are becoming. And since I share plenty of the mundane and even some toady moments around here, I can't be stingy with the diamonds.

My kids' AWANA club is having a Penny Drive this month. Eliza's level is competing against Ian's level for the most generous contributions for our AWANA missionaries (folks who serve full-time in our area to support all the AWANA clubs -- that's about all I know).

Eliza decided that she wanted to give ALL her money. And she did. She rounded up all the allowance she's been given for the past several weeks, since she never spends it on anything except loans to her brother, swept it into a business-size envelope, and lugged the clinking thing to club tonight.

"Are you sure?" I asked -- but only once, since a generous impulse is not to be trifled with. And after all, what's our money for? More plastic trinkets Made in China?

She was very sure.

She gets it. More than I do, even. And I'm feeling rather humbled by the simple wisdom of a five year old.

How I do love lists

Today I am ...

- Super excited about the $36-each-way JetBlue Austin-to-California sale, which is making it possible for us to say YES! to my sweet sister-in-law's requests for us to visit them in San Diego in May. Cheaper than driving! Can't wait!

- Wide awake from the coffee I drank while reading Johnny Tremain to Ian at Starbucks this morning. We are the homeschooling ambassadors to our area coffee shops.

- Resigned to the fact that my house will never be as tidy as I'd like.

- Stealing moments to read a book I was complaining about last week and now am totally hooked on -- Les Miserables.

- Singing this hymn.

- Wondering whether to believe that my son really did pull up $13.00 worth of weeds this afternoon (at a nickel per weed, or 260 weeds!).

- Grateful to my brother for revolutionizing my life with the recommendation for this gadget. Transponders are now attached to both key rings plus the TV remote, so my key troubles are apparently over.

- Listening to my children, and a friend or two, playing in the back yard.

- Wearing a pretty new top that I found for $7 at a resale shop last weekend. This was a terrific weekend for shopping. At four secondhand shops within five minutes of our house, I netted one top, one sweater, one skirt, and three pairs of capris for myself, plus two pairs of shorts for Ian, all for less than $50. Woohoo!

- Noticing a large tattoo on my right arm made by a three year old with a ballpoint pen.

- Planning to make sweet potato and black bean burritos for dinner.

- Praying for Melissa, and for Sam at his new job.

- Sad that several of my friends' and acquaintances' husbands have recently lost their jobs. Feels like Austin's getting hit with a plague.

- Thankful for ordinary days in the divine dispensing.

Green and Blue

My computer ended up being in the CompuZone hospital for the second half of the week, and then in rehab (getting back all our files from Mozy; so glad we backed up!). The breakdown happened COMPLETELY miraculously after a tall person in our house took apart my computer to install new memory. Sooooooo, I'm late in posting my green and blue photos, which come from a lovely morning we spent on the grounds of our state capitol, attended Day Four of NASA Space Week. 

The event was quite well done, with lots of hands-on activities and lively presentations for the kiddos, and once the school buses departed, things got saner. Oh, except for the vociferous ACORN rally taking place on the Capitol Steps in two languages; that was fun. We even bumped into a few other homeschooling families whom we haven't seen for months (that's the thing with hs'ing friends -- you bond, you hang out together, then your children stop doing the same activity/co-op/whatever and since you live completely across town from each other, it's too easy to lose touch. Especially if you stink at keeping up by phone, like me.) 

We got to see a demo of the liquid-cooled astronaunt undergarment that my father-in-law invented. That was cool. Literally. 

Now Caroline wants to know how soon we can fly into outer space. And Eliza, who initially wasn't keen on going, made me promise we'd "go to NASA" again soon. You think they're taking applications for the Year 2035 mission?

Yellow

Yellow is ...





























1. A pair of boots, perfect for stomping around in the neighborhood creek.
2. Ugly formica countertops, probably original to my 1968 house.
3. Signs of artists at work.
4. Industrial strength sandbox toys, nearly outgrown by the one who most cherished them.
5. Napkins on the line.
6. A boy, armed with outsized water balloon.
7. Same boy, arranging his history event cards to beat the stopwatch.
8. Flourishes on our broccoli garden.
9. "House" collage culled from old National Geographic magazines, inspired by the wonderful Blue Yonder Book of Days and the terrific A House Is a House for Me.
10. A notch on a belt rack.
11. Some post-mud-play sister lovin'.


And I can't show you, but I suppose yellow is also the color of surrender today. Conscious surrender on my part to the reality that my son was not going to finish his academic requirements of the day, was not going be anything resembling focused, but was instead going to make mud pies in the yard with his sisters. For all my belief in a happy childhood, this decision was harder than it sounds. A good parent is supposed to be consistent, right? Help her child develop good habits? Learn to work before play?

But in a stroke of master irony, my son managed to turn the experience into his own sort of academic exercise. I give you this analytical recipe for good mud, typed by Himself.

IAN’S MUD RECIPE
Needed:1 sive*.1 large bowl.1 strong stick. Step 1: put the sive over the bowl. Step 2: take a large shovel; gather some dusty dirt. step 3: pour the dirt into the sive and mousache** and shake until most of dirt is in bowl. Do this repeatedly until there is a good amount of dirt in the bowl. Let as little sticks and rocks in as possible. Step 4: pour some water in. step 5:stir well with stick. Step 6: you are done!

(*sieve. ** massage.)

Orange

Spring in Austin is a good reminder to focus on the present. Why fret over what it portends (long, hot, humid summer) instead of enjoying what it is (balmy, blossoming, early)? "Today is a gift," I reminded my daughters today, "that's why it's called the PRESENT." (There's no such thing as a cliché for a five year old.)

A couple shots from our yard, plus one from the kitchen:

Red

I'm participating in this project this week. Anyone care to join me, a day or two late? Sam? Jenny?

Politically Incorrect

You know something I appreciate about my mother-in-law? Her sense of humor. And the fact that she does not expect her grandkids to be anything more than KIDS. An example:


That is the birthday card she received from my son yesterday during one of our longest restaurant experiences on record. He worked long and hard on it, and yes, it says, "Happy Birthday to you, you live in a zoo (#1Grandma!), you sml like a monkey, and you look like one too!" (She chose to interpret it as "SMILE like a monkey" and thank him for the compliment, but he assured her that no, he really meant "SMELL," he just ran out of the appropriate letter stickers.)

I know she is just going to treasure that one forever.

I am so boring, apparently, that all I could come up with to give her was a homemade card with FLOWERS, and a bag with little gifts for an afternoon teatime -- monogrammed mug from Anthropologie, tea, book by favorite author Nicholas Sparks, pumpkin ginger pound cake-scented candle that's supposed to burn for 35 hours. I mean, how staid! How insufferably lacking in juvenile humor!

And speaking of juvenile humor ... if you live in Austin, you know that all the major intersections are populated by homeless folks hoping for some charity. Since my dear husband is AGAINST giving out cash, but at my insistence wants to honor the children's generous instincts, he came up with the idea of handing out cans of beans.

Today, we saw a man on the corner by our local HEB. Caroline shrieked, "A HOMELESS MAN! Quick! Let's give him a can of beans to make him TOOT!"

Clearly, at least for this child, flatulence trumps charity any day.