Nature Post by Angie

Angie went out and found some leaves for her nature blog post.

Ornamental Raspberry

Burr Oak turning colour

Burr Oak with gall

Burr Oak

Diablo Neinbark

Green Ash

Hibiscus

Little Kim Lilac

HEROFACTORY

This is Acidur. He is a hero turned bad. His power is acid. He likes to hangout in swamps and jungles. He was brought to the VHP [villain hiding place] by LORD Evil.










LORD Evil turned heroes into monsters. The first one was Acidur. The second was Ice Monster. 

The third was Sand Monster.

motivational gifts

Dear Reade,



I've been reading Discover your childrens' gifts by Katie and Don Fortune. Yes, the pink book that has followed me everywhere over the last few weeks. As I've thought about the gifting of our children, I have also been thinking about my own gifting. I think I would most strongly fall into the Compassion and Administration gifts.



Tonight at bedtime The Boy asked for stories.



"Tell me a story about when you were six."



And the story that came flowing out was this:



When I was six I was in Mrs. So-and-so's class. We were given books to take home to read. When we brought them back to school we would get a new book. I do not remember if I knew that the teacher was marking them down and keeping track of all the books we had "read."



The goal was that our parents would read to us each day, that we would learn to love books and reading, that we would be able to read and be healthy and be happy. I do remember only reading one of the books with my dad, your Grandpa. The Suessian One Fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.



Sometime in the winter my dad read on a report card that I/we had read a certain number of books. The report card celebrated the milestone. And my dad turned to me and asked me about it. He knew he had not read all those books to me. My step mom had not read those books to me. How could we possibly have been at so many books?



Whether through misunderstanding, missing the point because I was daydreaming or active deceit, I had lied. I was required to confess my lie to Mrs. So-and-so and apologize. I remember going to school the next possible day was horrendous. And I couldn't screw up the courage to talk to her. I remember finally making my way to her desk in the corner of the classroom while we were to be working away at something. "Mrs. So-and-so, I didn't read all those books at home. I lied to you. I am sorry."



*****



When I reflect now on that experience, particularly in light of this reading on motivational gifts, I have light-bulbs clicking on in my head.

• Many times, given the stresses of life in the family I lived in during my school years, I felt like I was in a position where lying felt like the only option to protect myself. I wasn't lying with intention to dupe someone else. I was afraid I would be so crushed by the anger, opposition or harshness, that I chose instead to let people think what they would by my silence. Or I would actively try to cover my mistakes (honest, genuine childhood mistakes) instead of admitting them.
• the compassion motivational gifting makes for easy wounding. I have the sense now that I asked for a grown up to read with me, but that was not welcomed. Books, and my love of them, were seen as suspect. Maybe it was just that every time I raised the issue of reading it was responded to as a nuisance. Did I stop asking to be read to at home because it was too painful? Or because I was afraid it would be too painful? Or because I didn't want to be seen as a nuisance? What else have I done through the years because I didn't want to be a nuisance? What actions and attitudes and patterns of thinking are based on those foundations in my life today?
  
  
• I wonder if Girlie will have some of the same propensities, temptations to cover truth when it appears as though it might have negative emotional consequences. If possible, I'd like to remember that it is so important that she know she is loved. That "punishment" and the emotional baggage of an upset grown-up, an upset me, need to be set aside to offer her forgiveness when she "confesses." And I want to offer her an adult hand to hold when she needs to confess/apologize to another adult or even another child.
• As I've been reading about the vulnerability of the compassion person and the potential for abuse by unscrupulous people, I am grateful for what I have been saved from. So grateful.
  
  

That's all for today. I love you bunches and I'm glad I get to tell our children stories even when they stir up stuff like this.



Love, Jenn

habits

Dear Reade,



As you may well remember, tonight when we came home from picking you up at work, I parked the van on the street. We all got out of the van as though this was completely normal, a perfect place for parking our van. We trundled in to the house.



I closed the door to the house and realized I had fallen prey to the force of habit. In this particular instance, not an evil habit, just a habit, but one that causes me to attend to the other habits of my days.



We have a driveway. For five months we have been parking on the street because we have had a portable storage unit providing warehouse space for our household's largest de-clutter ever. Last week the storage unit went to its next home (and there were smiles all around!) and in the intervening days I have been pleased to park on the driveway.



Tonight we were eating ice cream and talking about our days. You were at work late today so the children had more than usual to tell you. As I parked we were clarifying the head-inside, get-showered, get-jim-jamerino-ed, read-books, lights-out plan. I was distracted from the task at hand and found myself living out of last week's reality instead of the current reality.



And so I ponder:

• What other pathways am I following that hinder me from arriving where I want to go?
  
  
• How am I thinking that distracts me from being who I want to be, becoming who I want to become?
• What are the "key stones" that cause my routines to crumble?
• Where am I allowing auto-pilot to take me as I walk through being and wife-ing and parenting and friend-ing each day?
  
  

I would like to be more attentive, more present most days.



I love you.



Jenn

And let's don't forget

Dear Reade,



And let's don't forget that Girlie calls her ankle her foot elbow. Adorable.



Love, Jenn

Beard crumbs and bread bones

Dear Reade,

Just the other day I was sitting on our back step. Girlie was bustling about. Talking about wellow flowers. Which then had me thinking about The Boy and his version of yellow which was lellow.

Some endearing turns of phrase that I want to remember even as they grow and change:

Girlie
pox-a-puhl -- popsicle
carry me up -- pick me up and she hardly uses it anymore. :(
pease I have ... a freezie, my sooth-a, my toofbrush
I love that -- the food on her plate, the flower in her hand, going in to the library, her shoes, her baby doll, the hot wheel car in her hand
My Boy -- what she frequently calls her brother

"I running round the tree. Running makes me happy."

Reading the Psalms and arriving at Psalm 139:4 (Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. ) she shouts out, "I've got a word on my tongue."

And at night as we go through the liturgy of "Goodnight Boy-o. I love you." "Goodnight Girlie. I love you." she always is quick to say "Goodnight Girlie. I love you" to herself. I love it.

The Boy
beard crumbs -- small hairs left from your beard, wherever beard hairs might be left
bread bones -- bread crust
do you know something? -- quickly changing to "I know something" because that's what he really means anyway
Actually, especially and certainly -- He uses them all, in context, but often they seem confusing to people outside of our family because they don't expect these words coming out of a four year old's mouth.

I know there are many, many others, but those will do for today.

Love, Jenn

Hot, hot, hot

Dear Reade,

It's a great, scorching day out. Girlie and I napped while you took Boy-o to the store to look at plants. Now you're reading books with Girlie (Leaf Man by Lois Erlich) while the Boy plays with friends. It's hard not to wish for cooler weather but I'm trying to enjoy it while it lasts.

Love, Jenn

Quiet

Dear Reade,

I just got word that one of the elder sages of my spiritual formation group passed away on Thursday evening. I remember being in a group with her in April last year. In the midst of the conversation she related being in discussion with a friend of hers who was praying all the time, asking God what she should do. E answered, "If you would just shut up, maybe you would be able to hear what God is saying to you."

I've enjoyed time today to be silent. I am grateful.

Love, Jennifer

A birthday party

Yesterday, six months after The Boy's actual birthday, we celebrated the anniversary of his birth with his friends. And my friends too, to be fair. We bowled. There were cupcakes and presents and a wonderful time was had by all. We even had the bowling alley mostly to ourselves for the whole time. Huzzah!

Dear Reade,

I've been gone from this blog space for a long time. I can't say what shifts bring me in and out again, but I am here now.

The last ... five months have brought some pretty big changes to our family and our house. Girlie speaks dependent clauses in a sentence now: When I get into the bath I wash my feet. And she asks for things using the construction "Pease I have..." The Boy is shooting up in height like the perennials in the garden seemingly tiny one moment and then there in fullness. He's making shifts as he learns about obedience -- not harsh, forced external obedience, but an obedience that allows him to be himself. Settled, bright, and relational.

And I've been packing, sorting, cleaning, shifting and letting go of so many things and ideas. After these many years of hoping I would get to sewing and quilting projects (Yes, she without a functioning sewing machine) I've let go of those piles of saved up clothes and cloth. Someday I'd like to enter that world again but for now being released from the ongoing expectations is so freeing. Even to have given you the garden feels freeing.

Each night as we do bedtime with the kids we say these words, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." Depending on the translation "I shall not want" is also "I have everything I need." Except I have been living in this space as though I need to keep a stockpile of everything I might need. A stockpile of things to do to keep me distracted. My reserves of things -- to do, to be, to become -- have taken up so much mental, emotional, psychological and physical space. I don't want the space for it's own sake but for the freedom to become my truest self.

Kathleen Norris in her book Acedia and Me says:

Perform the humblest of tasks with full attention and no fussing over the whys and wherefores....To dwell in this desert and make it bloom requires that we indulge neither guilt nor vainglorious fantasizing but struggle to know ourselves as we are.

There are echos in that of these lines I have loved from Buechner:

Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.

I don't want "stuff" to get in the way of attending to the realities of my life, our life together, our lives with our family and friends. We are blessed beyond words. We have everything we need. We lie down in green pastures. We rest beside quiet waters.

Thanks be to God.

And, I do love you.

Love, Jenn

Thinking about a new house

Dear Jenn,
so the house that you love (I don't mind it) and the neighbourhood I hate. I guess it's not necessarily a deal breaker. It's not like I spend a lot of time out of doors. With climate change we may be in the midst of a new paradigm of wet weather that we won't emerge from except in a geological timescales. Perhaps small is beautiful after all. There are things that can be done in small spaces. I guess those half dead Lombardy poplars at the back fence could be removed and replaced with other trees that are more amenable to my sensibilities. The shed could be turned into a greenhouse or something too. In any case, I'm trying to think beyond my comfort zone.

Of course, the money is another issue. It's a sad state of affairs that I don't actually have any idea how much money I make. Indeed, I don't recall my hourly wage. I'm not really detail oriented as it turns out. I remember Angeline's birth like it was yesterday but I have to think about it for a bit to remember the date of her birth. I'm trapped in a pre-calendar, pre-clock mindset or something. But back to the cash. I don't even know if we could get a mortgage big enough to buy another house but then again, they sure wanted to throw money at us last time. Far more than we were willing to take on but we were both working then.


I want my kids to have friends in the neighbourhood that they can play with and Ni will miss having Elijah across the street. I'm unsure of what or who is in this new neighbourhood. The indicators were a bit damning when I was there. Granted a very brief time period.

All that to say, that I'm willing to consider it.

Love Reade.

Thinking about our place and a new computer

Dear Jenn,
So I've been thinking about getting a new desktop for the family. One that would be down in the living room area. I've also been thinking about our old one and using it as a server for our video, pictures and anything else we have that we'd like to access. It could also be a backup for the computers we have. I like redundancy I guess.
I'm unsure about the timing though. Should I buy it sooner rather than later? It's not like we've saved up for it but we do have a line of credit.
With the changes you've made to the house and your thoughts about things lately it just makes me think that maybe an upgrade would be good for all of us. Making the old computer into a server with Ubuntu server software and then having access throughout the house wherever that house ends up being.
These are my thoughts for now.
Love Reade

Out with the old...

Dear Reade,

It's New Year's Eve. 2010 has been quite the year. Full of fun. Full of frustration. Full of...okay, it's a good thing that I have written records of some of the many things that happened this year or I fear I mightn't remember.

The year our little girl turned one. Learned to walk. Started talking. Today she said, "Sit in box. Boat." The year she had her first salon haircut. Her first pee on the potty. She's a perpetual helper, adorable and funny and lisp-y and wonderful. And she removes my keys from my purse most everyday and puts them somewhere clever.

The year our boy turned four. Started practicing on an Early Rider for his two wheeler days. Started pre-school. Wanted to sleep over at someone's house without us. Started saying how much we didn't love him because we wouldn't give in to his demands. And this very day sat on my lap facing me, wrapped his arms around my neck, ran his fingers through my hair and let me enjoy the sun beaming on him and I as we rested at the table after lunch.

This year you finished your final full time semester of your degree. Wow. I'm so proud of you. Amazed at the work you've done to get through courses and assignments and exams while still being present to the kids. And to me. While still being in touch with your friends and keeping up on assignments at Springboard and taking out the trash. You've been swamped so many times and come up for air and kept going. I'm proud. And grateful. And glad to celebrate being done this phase of our family life.

This year I resigned my position at First. Fourteen years of being on staff at one church or another and I'm so glad not to have to juggle all of that with parenting our children and being a hub for our family life. I'm glad to be able to be with our kids day by day. To be here to send you off in the morning and welcome you home at night.

What a year. What a life. I'm in love. With you. With our kids. With our lives right now.

Love, Jenn

He's four!

Dear Reade,

It's hard for me to believe that four years ago at this time we had never met Adoniram face to face.

Here we are, four years into his life and he's wrapped around my heart and yours and evidence of his presence is everywhere...

He's four. He says he feels different today. Taller. And he spotted a contrail this morning out the bathroom window. A great start to his fifth year.

Love you,

Jenn

Still

Dear Reade,

It's the middle of the night and I'm awake again. For a few weeks now I run out of energy and the ability to be awake by the children's bedtime and fall asleep in that process. And there's a great deal of delight in being snuggled up with one or the other or both of our kids.

The corollary to falling asleep at 7 p.m. is that by the wee hours of the morning I am awake.

By the time our children awaken at 5 a.m. I am sure I will be more than ready for sleep. :)

As I sit quietly in these morning hours I read and look and dream. Cooking and baking ideas. Crafting. Beautiful knitting projects. Emails from our family and friends. These still moments are so needful for me. I crave quiet and still and so I am grateful for this space.

Rest well my love,
Jenn

Permission

Dear Reade,

A quiet Sunday afternoon consisting of chocolate chip cookies, milk, sumo wrestling practice, book reading and tower building. Boy-o just asked "Can Daddy have permission to come feed the fish with me?"

Yup.

Hope it was fun.

Love, Jenn

perfect...

Dear Reade,

I am a one woman comedy fest of errors right now. A perfect storm of shit and spills and chaos. I know parenting life isn't primarily consumed by these kinds of days, but the last few days have been...

Perfect.

Really.

Really?

Really.

After washing blueberry smoothie off the floor, myself and then the ceiling I went racing downstairs to deal with Boy-o's "catastrophe." "Mama, it's really bad." And I found the unplugged telephone (the one I leave unplugged so that the kids don't cut us off from the outside world) off the hook. Girlie followed us downstairs leaving a trail of liquid poop in her wake. All over the plastic straws the children spilled earlier. All over the single carpeted space in our entire home. After I cleaned her up and washed the carpet and cleaned up the kitchen floor and threw away the straws -- with the help of my very helpful children...ugh -- I asked Boy-o to come wash his hands. Instead he picked up the organic dehydrated cane sugar and stuck his hand in the bag.

We're out of laundry detergent. Ditto eggs, black tea, and straws. :) Also dehydrated cane sugar now.

We seem to have no shortage of shit though.

It took a good hour into the movie I was watching tonight before I realized that I was clenching my teeth. Do you think? Am I a little tense?

I'm working on relaxing. It has been a crazy few days. Boy-o got sick in the night on Thursday. You had day surgery on Friday. The car inexplicably stopped working while you were out running errands. You headed off to class. Girlie and I got sick by lunch time on Saturday. I was supposed to preach Sunday for the first time in more than a year and a half and had to cancel (guilt free!) on account of puke-and-pooping-sickness. Last night in the middle of the night you got sick. And then today with the blueberries, straws, poop, laundry and the normal spills of milk and water and tea.

Today's episodes are just more in a long line of crazy things all coming together perfectly at the same time.

And I'm about to eat my first meal (aside from broth, apple sauce and water) since Friday. Just the thought simultaneously makes me salivate and want to throw up. Having carefully prepared this bit of leftovers I took one bite and lost my spoon in the bottom of the pot.

I'm getting another spoon. I'm eating some soup. Then I'm going to bed.

Our next scheduled "perfect" weekend is three years from now. Once it gets closer I might be feeling wistful. Without recording this in an archive I might crazily decide to bump up the next occurrence of a weekend of perfection. Who knows?

:)

Love to you,
Jenn

P.S. This is the reality of our day on only one level. People who I could not have got along without talked to me a various points throughout the day and made the difference between me being a slave in the midst of a crumby day and being able to laugh at the craziness of it all. I am so grateful for friends, for family (and that laundry detergent!) and for being in an entirely different head space than I was a year ago. Raise a piece of toast or a wine glass (depending on which end of the day you are at) to grace and the grandness of life.

To life!

Cold

Dear Reade,

When our little girl went outside to get in the car this morning, all she could say was "Cold. Cold. Cold." And it occurred to me that last winter she always got bundled in a bucket car seat with a blanket and all the coziness we could muster. When we went out to "play" she was always snuggled right next to my body, wrapped up in a sling inside my coat.

Poor thing. I know that given a few weeks she'll decide that she would rather go ice skating than hide her head under her wing, but I'm feeling sympathy for her in these days of adjustment.

Love, Jenn

A lickin'

Dear Reade,

The smile on my face spread from ear to ear as I watched you play with our children while I made supper. "Give us a lickin' Daddy!" they trilled with delight, running away, shrieking. With no fear, total openness to playing run, chase, and a wet sloppy lick as the high point, they seek you out and delight in your presence.

I am so grateful that our children are not afraid of physical punishment in the regular everyday moments of their lives. "Lickings" and "being beaten" are a part of their physical play, not of punitive action. They love to be licked. They love to race and especially to have mama and daddy be beaten. They have no sense that there might be sadness in those words for other children. That other children, asking for "lickings" or tickling to stop might not find their request respected. Might not find themselves respected.

Thank you for being the kind of daddy who respects your children, who respects me, your wife.

I am so grateful for you.

Love, Jenn

School today

Dear Jenn,

Aargh! I've neglected my econometrics too much and now it's going to be a bear to catch up. I'm pretty sure I can but it won't be fun at all. Who am I kidding? Even keeping up with it assiduously it wouldn't really be fun.



Jenn, you were right to snort with derision (well not really derision) when I said I found it impossible to get any work done at home. That's really self evident. The real problem is that I don't want to spend any time at school unless I absolutely have to.

Love Reade

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