So in my older post, "So Wonderful," I talked about my trip to the E.R. and how being a medical wonder was not fun. This past week I had a follow up with the doctor and while she still couldn't confirm if I had a kidney stone or not, she was feeling confident that IF did, I surely hadn't passed it yet. Again, I'm not sure of how this diagnosis came about, but the look on my face read anything but "Thanks doc!" I'll have to keep you posted on my joyful trip.
This week though, I'm looking at The Boy, now 4, almost 5 years old, and wondering how it is that we have had so few trips to the E.R. up until now. He did take his father and me to the immediate care 2 weeks ago tomorrow- with a broken arm. I've never had broken bone before, nor has my husband. I haven't had a child with a broken bone before either. There was no mistaking this though! Seeing his arm hanging at such an odd position with a strange bump protruding from the elbow made me have to work to keep my lunch down.
Long story short, he fell off his bike, broke the arm in 2 places below the elbow and since the immediate care insisted on a specialist (that wasn't in any big hurry to get us in), his bones had already started to heal- thank you Lord! in the proper place. Therefore only a temporary cast was needed. Tomorrow! Tomorrow he goes back to the specialist to HOPEFULLY get the cast off. I really don't think he could have survived a full 6 weeks in a regular cast. The hardest part has been that he hasn't been able to ride his bike. "Two feet on the ground," straight out of the doctor's mouth. Oh how I've enjoyed repeating that phrase over and over.
I really believe that God built boys differently. I mean, I know they are different, and there are always exceptions in a few girls, but generally speaking, I think the testosterone blocks the brain cells from properly functioning about 99% of the time. One only has to look at "America's Funniest Videos" to see that nearly all the clips of dangerous, stupid stunts are performed my guys. More specifically boys- or men who haven't moved out of the boy stage. While my kids enjoying watching this show, I feel like I have to be in a 4 foot radius from their ears to follow up each of these types of clips with "Don't you even think about doing that!" Of course my warnings are usually drowned out by "Cool!" or "Hey, I bet we could do that!" or just all out laughter- this all coming from their Dad!
I know, as parents, we haven't aided the whole don't do dumb stuff warning when we have toys like skateboards, scooters and a trampoline. What can I say, I like spending my time issuing warnings.
The bad thing about experiencing a brake in a bone is that I'm "on edge" now. When I hear one of the kids crying "that cry," I'm there before the tear leaves the eye, panicked and on alert. Today The Cute one who gets Everything Free at Garage Sales came inside the house crying uncontrollably that her head started hurting after playing leap frog on the trampoline. Certain that she'd not been hit, didn't bend her neck wrong or anything of the like, my worry mode was set to alarm.
You know, if you can actually see the injury, it really helps to make the "run to the doctor decision." Unfortunately this isn't always the case. It is in those times that one relies on their tried and true "Momisms." You know what I mean. My favorite one is: "Rub it." Like that is going to make it better! Well, my kids seem to think it does : P
My husband tells of a football coach that would reply to most pains: "Rub some dirt on it." Hmmmm. An expansion on mine.
My daughter tells me her friends' dad's is: "Suck it up!" Okay, might work- if I knew what to suck up.
Another one- oh how these come to mind when you start thinking about it- my husband has a "cure" that he uses when his panic mode hits: he hands the child a quarter and tells them to squeeze it.
Really? I can't believe they would fall for this. Okay, maybe keeping their mind on squeezing would be helpful, especially when dad is there pushing them to "keep squeezing" if their grip relaxes. I would think that my kids would be smart enough to tell their dad that a dollar would be easier to squeeze though and would ease the pain a bit more!
Back to The Cute one who gets Everything Free at Garage Sales. After a bit of aspirin and a cold washrag (another Momism), she decided she felt better. Of course this was after most of the nightly cleaning of the house was done.
I do believe my kids have taken my heighted alerts to their advantage!
In the meantime, I hear there is a cold front coming in that is bringing rain. Oh, too bad you can't ride bikes in that. Well, actually you could, but Mom is on alert -remember.
I'm having Dad take The Boy to the doctor appointment tomorrow. It's not that I don't want to go; it's just that I think that dad, gracing me with the 2 boys at the end of the sting of kids, has to pay his dues in bringing the testosterone level a bit higher around the house. That and I don't think that the doctor would appreciate me telling The Boy to not worry and just rub it! I'd rather see them off from the house, be ready to greet him with "I'm so proud of you!" when he returns. I do think I'll stick a few extra quarters in dad's pocket before he goes though!
Surviving Myself (outside of the E.R.),
Mary
Oh- one last thing. On a techinacal note, I am still working on the whole leave a comment thing. I wasnt to assure you that if you try to leave a comment, you can do so by clicking "leave a comment" and then choose to send it under "anonymous" and the comment will get to me- just not saved to the post. So feel free to comment away!
UPDATE: The Boy got back from the doctor today and with head hung low, announced he'll have 3 more weeks of the cast. Poor boy, still no bike : (
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Dangerous Discontent
I have recently been reading a book by Immaculee Ilibagiza, a survivor of the Rwanda holocaust of 1994. Her book is entitled Left to Tell, and I highly recommend it to older teens and up- http://www.lefttotell.com/ . It is very graphic in description of the horrors that took place in her country. She, along with seven other girls/women survived by hiding in a 3' by 4' bathroom that belonged to a local pastor. They stayed in this bathroom for 91 days, often times only sharing 1 plate of food amongst them. More than once they would hear groups of killers, standing just inches away from their hiding place, chanting gruesome killing songs and calling out their names as they searched houses and streets hoping to add them to their killing list. It was a shocking discovery that Immaculee found when listening to these killers and once getting a peek at them that these were not hardened, trained killers or soldiers that cried out for her blood and the blood of her people; these were her neighbors and friends that she grew up with, played with, that her own family had even helped out before with money or shelter. She struggled with disbelief as much as she struggled for comfort and yet, it was in that tiny bathroom that she found peace. Encircled by contempt, she found contentment. Surrounded by discontent, she found love.
Now, if you are like me, and pretty much any other human being, you have to be asking- How? How could she find harmony in the midst of war. One way she did this was by the grace of God. Imaculee is a practicing Catholic who always found a joy in prayer. She treasured her faith and the traditions that her family had grown up with. There in a cramped bathroom, she retreated to the depth of her heart and conversed with the creator of the earth and found hope in the chaos.
This almost sounds "easy," doesn't it? I can only imagine that it wasn't. I would never want to experience the disarray she encountered. Reading her story is so heavy, so sorrowful and yet incredibly insightful. I am carrying her story in my heart, in my soul. It has me thinking about events and people in different ways.
I am dumbfounded, as was she, by the actions of friends and neighbors. Just as it was in Germany. There too Jewish people found hate expressed to them by neighbors and loved ones. Afterward, we stood shocked at what human beings can do to one another. We probably even confess with our lips that we could never do something like that ourselves.
And yet, I propose to you, are we really so different? Imaculee herself experienced the hate that drives a human to the desire revenge. She struggled with it until she found the forgiveness of Christ.
But not all of us are hidden away in a 3' by 4' bathroom with killers calling for our blood. We face discontent on a far different level and probably daily. For some, it may be very mild- a dissatisfaction of others' actions or even their possessions. For others, it may be a bigger, growing discontent of dealing with moral situations at work or struggling with political actions of the government.
When Adam and Eve left the garden, they experienced discontent. But if we had been there, would we not also have "messed up" along the way- bringing sin and sorrow to every generation? Sure, it is easy to say "No!" with 20/20 hindsight, but being "in the moment" brings each of us to the reality that sometimes our choices bring us and others discontent.
Lately, I have experienced a level of discontent that is disturbing me. No, I am not out for revenge- more so, I am longing change. This discontent is on a personal scale. It is not aimed at the government, my neighbors, my friends or my family. I am feeling uneasiness in my lifestyle. What I find so disturbing though is how much my restlessness has an effect on my family.
In my heart I feel the Lord calling me to shun some of the influence of media upon my family's time. It is so easy for me to "veg" out in front of the t.v. at the end of the day- I crave the mindless entertainment! It was actually something I grew up with- with a t.v. in nearly every room, I could tell the time of the day by what was on the tube. I have strongest memories of t.v. characters from my youth than I do of daily activities. It is a addiction I struggled with and still do. When I had my first child, I made a decision to fight against this desire. The t.v. went off and I forced myself to live in the moment. I have worked to keep this habit suppressed for the last 16 years. Usually I feel pretty good about it. I allow my children around 1/2 hour a day, 3 times a week of viewing what we call "Jesus movies." On the weekend, we would watch a bit more- indulging in a full length video each day. However, as my older kids hit the teen years, we've found the convenience of replay episodes online, which led to a creeping back of the old habit of more viewing.
Our first week passed. I won't call it a roaring success. I won't even call it overwhelmingly enjoyable. It is hard work to work against the influence of media! I know though that anything worth having is usually accompanied by hard work. Sadly, many nights, we called it to an end went to bed early. It was like we couldn't find enjoyment amongst ourselves unless we had the t.v. as a distraction.
Discontent. There it is again. Discontent without the media, discontent with media. Don't get me wrong- I am not comparing my discontent on the level of Imacculee's or the Jewish holocaust. But discontent has to start somewhere. It has to be given birth, feed, and nurtured.
In distress, I watched myself and my spouse as we hit a weekend- the 2 nights that my husband doesn't work. He has a second shift job and doesn't get home until after midnight. These 2 nights are supposed to be a time when we can work and build our relationship. Where did I find us on Sat. and Sun. night? In front of the t.v.
Discontent. Tearing at my heart. Letting Satan in. Finding unhappiness in my life. I just want to give into the easy answer. Turn to the media, embrace it. It wasn't like we were unhappy being tube heads. We laughed with each other, shared jokes about, and had discussions about our viewing. Unfortunately it doesn't really build relationships; it doesn't strengthen us.
Discontent. Without the t.v., I have found I have a "boring" life. Don't pity me with the use of that word. I don't mean that I want to leave my life, give up my family and run off with the circus. I mean I have lost myself and my ability to function with those I love and I crave change in such a fashion that I am actually restless.
When we have discontent in our hearts, is it not a quick jump from uncomfortable feelings to hate?
I will leave you on that question. Ponder it. Pray about it. Respond to it. And if you feel led, comment on my blog about it. We often find answers in the places we least expect- so please share your thoughts on this subject. You could help others- you could help me.
Discontently Surviving Myself,
Mary
Now, if you are like me, and pretty much any other human being, you have to be asking- How? How could she find harmony in the midst of war. One way she did this was by the grace of God. Imaculee is a practicing Catholic who always found a joy in prayer. She treasured her faith and the traditions that her family had grown up with. There in a cramped bathroom, she retreated to the depth of her heart and conversed with the creator of the earth and found hope in the chaos.
This almost sounds "easy," doesn't it? I can only imagine that it wasn't. I would never want to experience the disarray she encountered. Reading her story is so heavy, so sorrowful and yet incredibly insightful. I am carrying her story in my heart, in my soul. It has me thinking about events and people in different ways.
I am dumbfounded, as was she, by the actions of friends and neighbors. Just as it was in Germany. There too Jewish people found hate expressed to them by neighbors and loved ones. Afterward, we stood shocked at what human beings can do to one another. We probably even confess with our lips that we could never do something like that ourselves.
And yet, I propose to you, are we really so different? Imaculee herself experienced the hate that drives a human to the desire revenge. She struggled with it until she found the forgiveness of Christ.
But not all of us are hidden away in a 3' by 4' bathroom with killers calling for our blood. We face discontent on a far different level and probably daily. For some, it may be very mild- a dissatisfaction of others' actions or even their possessions. For others, it may be a bigger, growing discontent of dealing with moral situations at work or struggling with political actions of the government.
When Adam and Eve left the garden, they experienced discontent. But if we had been there, would we not also have "messed up" along the way- bringing sin and sorrow to every generation? Sure, it is easy to say "No!" with 20/20 hindsight, but being "in the moment" brings each of us to the reality that sometimes our choices bring us and others discontent.
Lately, I have experienced a level of discontent that is disturbing me. No, I am not out for revenge- more so, I am longing change. This discontent is on a personal scale. It is not aimed at the government, my neighbors, my friends or my family. I am feeling uneasiness in my lifestyle. What I find so disturbing though is how much my restlessness has an effect on my family.
In my heart I feel the Lord calling me to shun some of the influence of media upon my family's time. It is so easy for me to "veg" out in front of the t.v. at the end of the day- I crave the mindless entertainment! It was actually something I grew up with- with a t.v. in nearly every room, I could tell the time of the day by what was on the tube. I have strongest memories of t.v. characters from my youth than I do of daily activities. It is a addiction I struggled with and still do. When I had my first child, I made a decision to fight against this desire. The t.v. went off and I forced myself to live in the moment. I have worked to keep this habit suppressed for the last 16 years. Usually I feel pretty good about it. I allow my children around 1/2 hour a day, 3 times a week of viewing what we call "Jesus movies." On the weekend, we would watch a bit more- indulging in a full length video each day. However, as my older kids hit the teen years, we've found the convenience of replay episodes online, which led to a creeping back of the old habit of more viewing.
Our first week passed. I won't call it a roaring success. I won't even call it overwhelmingly enjoyable. It is hard work to work against the influence of media! I know though that anything worth having is usually accompanied by hard work. Sadly, many nights, we called it to an end went to bed early. It was like we couldn't find enjoyment amongst ourselves unless we had the t.v. as a distraction.
Discontent. There it is again. Discontent without the media, discontent with media. Don't get me wrong- I am not comparing my discontent on the level of Imacculee's or the Jewish holocaust. But discontent has to start somewhere. It has to be given birth, feed, and nurtured.
In distress, I watched myself and my spouse as we hit a weekend- the 2 nights that my husband doesn't work. He has a second shift job and doesn't get home until after midnight. These 2 nights are supposed to be a time when we can work and build our relationship. Where did I find us on Sat. and Sun. night? In front of the t.v.
Discontent. Tearing at my heart. Letting Satan in. Finding unhappiness in my life. I just want to give into the easy answer. Turn to the media, embrace it. It wasn't like we were unhappy being tube heads. We laughed with each other, shared jokes about, and had discussions about our viewing. Unfortunately it doesn't really build relationships; it doesn't strengthen us.
Discontent. Without the t.v., I have found I have a "boring" life. Don't pity me with the use of that word. I don't mean that I want to leave my life, give up my family and run off with the circus. I mean I have lost myself and my ability to function with those I love and I crave change in such a fashion that I am actually restless.
When we have discontent in our hearts, is it not a quick jump from uncomfortable feelings to hate?
I will leave you on that question. Ponder it. Pray about it. Respond to it. And if you feel led, comment on my blog about it. We often find answers in the places we least expect- so please share your thoughts on this subject. You could help others- you could help me.
Discontently Surviving Myself,
Mary
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
So Wonderful!!
Who doesn't love wonders? You know a cause of astonishment, amazement- like the Wonders of the World, or Wonder Woman or someone saying "You're so wonderful!" What's not to like about wonders? I even get a tinge of excitement when I hear my kids say "Hey, I wonder. . . " I bend my ear to their thoughts, because it's a sign to me that their wheels are turning and thoughts are cranking out. Love when they become independent, terrific thinkers- especially when they are trying to solve a problem that I cannot piece together myself! (One of the reasons I have so many kids. . . more minds to keep me on track!)
I also love being able to write "Wonderful!" across the top of my childrens' graded papers- as I'm sure they are happy to see it - much better than the "Fix!" or "Do again!"
It's no wonder that a top selling bread is Wonder Bread. With a name like that, what kid couldn't resist it? Of course the wonderful yellow, blue and red circles calling out to the yearning stomachs, promising a mouthful of soft, white tasty goodness. Ahhhh. Okay, maybe I'm a bit obsessed- my Mother rarely bought Wonder Bread- we ate wheat bread (A healthy choice I've carried on, so my own children salivate when as a rare treat I place a loaf in my shopping cart.)
Oh, how about music- that oldie, but goodie, "S' Wonderful. . S' Marvelous. . .that you should care for me. . ."
Or even older~"I Wonder why I Love You Like I do"
My ALL time favorite wonder song though is "What a Wonderful World" - Louis Armstrong. This song brings back memories of high school dances- which in and of themselves were not so wonderful, but it was always the last song played at each dance and just left you ready to leave with a light heart as the lights came on and everyone chimed in to sing the lyrics. Good song!
Movies- no brainier- "Wonderful Life" This movie is such a classic- brought out each Christmas season at our home. Plus, there are so many take offs of this movie- many very, very good, including Shrek Forever (my favorite Shrek).
With all these wonders, are you wondering where I'm going?
It's to the antipodean of everything wonderful about wonder.
Two weekends back I became a wonder in the most loathsome way. I was considered a "medical wonder." Much to the demise of what was supposed to be a family day at a church festival, I spent the day in the E.R. with an extreme pain in my abdomen and a handful of hospital workers scratching their heads and saying "I wonder. . . "
This is not what wonder is supposed to be! Wonder is supposed to be laughter, proud feelings, yummy bread and feel-good music!
Here is what I do wonder about- how come it is so easy to cross that point of embarrassment to the point of lose all caution to the wind when it comes to pain? It must be something about the hospital gown with the slit down the back. It's never going to mean something wonderful is going to happen! Okay, I did don the gown 7 times to give birth- and that is wonderful!- but the modesty grows it's own wings and flies out the window when the gown goes on. And there is no wonder is all the needle pricking, poking, prodding and marvelous contraptions that get hooked up to your body when you suit up in the hospital finery.
And so, after many tests and head scratching, the E.R. doctor, as he is about to release me, says
"I wonder. . . maybe you had a kidney stone."
O great, this probably means more tests- No thanks! He must of read my mind. After all, I wasn't in any pain anymore. In fact, my pain had actually subsided before I was even called out of the E.R. waiting room! Wonderful, huh?!? Maybe it was the pleading look in my eyes that convinced him to release me. Although he wasn't going to confirm anything, he did feel that my tests lead to conclude it was kidney stones. "But be sure to follow up with your primary doctor."
I was not surprised at all when my primary doctor said- "I wonder. . ." Unfortunately, it was not the same wonder as the E.R. doctor- she just wondered what could have happened, because she wasn't convinced that it was kidney stones.
WONDERFUL!
(Sigh!) As I run back to doctor check-ups, enjoy the time "on rest", and continue to wonder, I'm so glad that I am a wonder to our Lord. It's easier to face bad wonders knowing that the All-Wonderful has me right where I am supposed to be!
Attempting to survive myself,
Mary
I also love being able to write "Wonderful!" across the top of my childrens' graded papers- as I'm sure they are happy to see it - much better than the "Fix!" or "Do again!"
It's no wonder that a top selling bread is Wonder Bread. With a name like that, what kid couldn't resist it? Of course the wonderful yellow, blue and red circles calling out to the yearning stomachs, promising a mouthful of soft, white tasty goodness. Ahhhh. Okay, maybe I'm a bit obsessed- my Mother rarely bought Wonder Bread- we ate wheat bread (A healthy choice I've carried on, so my own children salivate when as a rare treat I place a loaf in my shopping cart.)
Oh, how about music- that oldie, but goodie, "S' Wonderful. . S' Marvelous. . .that you should care for me. . ."
Or even older~"I Wonder why I Love You Like I do"
My ALL time favorite wonder song though is "What a Wonderful World" - Louis Armstrong. This song brings back memories of high school dances- which in and of themselves were not so wonderful, but it was always the last song played at each dance and just left you ready to leave with a light heart as the lights came on and everyone chimed in to sing the lyrics. Good song!
Movies- no brainier- "Wonderful Life" This movie is such a classic- brought out each Christmas season at our home. Plus, there are so many take offs of this movie- many very, very good, including Shrek Forever (my favorite Shrek).
With all these wonders, are you wondering where I'm going?
It's to the antipodean of everything wonderful about wonder.
Two weekends back I became a wonder in the most loathsome way. I was considered a "medical wonder." Much to the demise of what was supposed to be a family day at a church festival, I spent the day in the E.R. with an extreme pain in my abdomen and a handful of hospital workers scratching their heads and saying "I wonder. . . "
This is not what wonder is supposed to be! Wonder is supposed to be laughter, proud feelings, yummy bread and feel-good music!
Here is what I do wonder about- how come it is so easy to cross that point of embarrassment to the point of lose all caution to the wind when it comes to pain? It must be something about the hospital gown with the slit down the back. It's never going to mean something wonderful is going to happen! Okay, I did don the gown 7 times to give birth- and that is wonderful!- but the modesty grows it's own wings and flies out the window when the gown goes on. And there is no wonder is all the needle pricking, poking, prodding and marvelous contraptions that get hooked up to your body when you suit up in the hospital finery.
And so, after many tests and head scratching, the E.R. doctor, as he is about to release me, says
"I wonder. . . maybe you had a kidney stone."
O great, this probably means more tests- No thanks! He must of read my mind. After all, I wasn't in any pain anymore. In fact, my pain had actually subsided before I was even called out of the E.R. waiting room! Wonderful, huh?!? Maybe it was the pleading look in my eyes that convinced him to release me. Although he wasn't going to confirm anything, he did feel that my tests lead to conclude it was kidney stones. "But be sure to follow up with your primary doctor."
I was not surprised at all when my primary doctor said- "I wonder. . ." Unfortunately, it was not the same wonder as the E.R. doctor- she just wondered what could have happened, because she wasn't convinced that it was kidney stones.
WONDERFUL!
(Sigh!) As I run back to doctor check-ups, enjoy the time "on rest", and continue to wonder, I'm so glad that I am a wonder to our Lord. It's easier to face bad wonders knowing that the All-Wonderful has me right where I am supposed to be!
Attempting to survive myself,
Mary
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
We've searched High and Low!
If there is one thing my family is good at it is looking for things. Notice, I didn't say FINDING things; that is not our forte! We take an opportunity nearly every three weeks to go on a great search- three weeks is amount of days we have before the library books are due. For most people keeping track of library books probably isn't a big deal. What do most normal people check out per library visit? Five, maybe ten books? We are not normal. I have gotten better, but at any given time, we'll check out anywhere from 30 to 50 books, sometimes more. We have an addiction to library books; not that this is a bad thing. I like to spend at least an hour a day reading "picture books" to the younger kids. Just a habit I'd started with the Jane Austen Wanna Be when she was little and continue to enjoy that time together even now.
Turning 5 in our family is a big deal- this is the age when a child gets to get his/her own library card. Of course this also means he/she accepts a bigger chunk of the blame when a book is lost, and that is not so good! To say a frequent calling upon St. Anthony is heard from our home is an understatement. I expect when we reach the pearly gates, each of of us will receive a tongue lashing from the multitude of times St. Anthony had to take a break from praising the Almighty to guide us to where the lost library book rests.
The Clown has earned the nickname of "St. Anthony"- because she is really good at finding lost things. I'm always calling upon her when something has gone astray. She has a good turn around time! This is also why I ask her to find things that I have lost in my mind. So many times I will leave a room, only to stop and holler her name to remind me why I had left the room to began with. She is also good with unwritten shopping lists, telephone numbers and keeping track of sibblings' forgotten punishments. . . hmmmm shouldn't be surprised about that last one.
What is this all leading to? I had a point, but I lost it : ) No, the point is I have been searching for a family hobby that would occupy a minimal amount of time and include all of us- from the 2 year old to the 45 year old (see prior post: "Happy Birthday to Me!"). I had all but given up- especially since we are not really sports oriented, not so musically talented that we could play anything remotely recognizable to any human, and don't possess the patience of Job, nor the wealth of Midas. Yet, about about 2 weeks ago, I stumbled upon an idea (probably under the guidance of St. Anthony) that looked like it was a hobby made just for us.
This activity is called Geocaching. It is also known as Letter Boxing. See the following link: http://www.geocaching.com/seek/nearest.aspx?lat=39.01103&lng=-95.777829&dist=5
This is a hobby where you use your GPS Navigation Device (yes, of course we have one- my husband's solution to keeping us from getting lost around town) to input a set of coordinates. Then, piling into the car, you follow the GPS to the set point and find the cache that is hidden. Wow! A hobby involving looking for something that is hidden?!? It should be called "Mooradian-ing."
What makes the search fun is that the end result could be a bit of a treasure- a medium/large size cache holds little goodies that you can trade out, or disguises that you don and photograph to upload as proof of your successful find. There are also little/microscopic size caches that usually just hold a log that you sign and date.
Our first few attempts were nothing shy of a complete failure (St. Anthony?!?). But, on the 3rd attempt, we found the needle in the haystack and you'd thought we'd found the cure for cancer! Considering we weren't using our GPS correctly, it was on the level of brain surgery. It felt so much more of an accomplishment too because we weathered 102 degree heat, around a 3/10 mile walk and overgrown grass that harbored overgrown grasshoppers (at least according to The Jane Austen Wanna Be).
A round of root beer floats proved to be the best way to celebrate (which coincidentaly, we also included the celebrating of finding a lost library book). Lots of bragging ensued, along with posting our pictures on the website. It appears that an answer to our hobby search has been found! I'm actually quite surprised that The boy and The Cute One Who Always get Free Stuff at Garage Sales were the two children that started begging to go Geocaching again- especially since they were the first two to give up searching when we were out in the field. Perhaps is just that they ejnoyed the time together we had as a family, with a common goal at hand. Maybe it was they were relieved to break of the regular routine to get out of the house. Possibly they just liked seeing The Jane Austen Wanna Be get flustered and mad at the GPS in what we call the Geocaching Rage. I'm not sure, but I know that we are building memories and having fun.
Thank you Lord that you don't need to work so hard to keep track of us, your children. I can rest knowing that no matter where my children or I am, you are keeping close track of us.
Now, if I could just get a fixed coordinates on each of our checked out library books. . .
Finding and Surviving Myself,
Mary
Turning 5 in our family is a big deal- this is the age when a child gets to get his/her own library card. Of course this also means he/she accepts a bigger chunk of the blame when a book is lost, and that is not so good! To say a frequent calling upon St. Anthony is heard from our home is an understatement. I expect when we reach the pearly gates, each of of us will receive a tongue lashing from the multitude of times St. Anthony had to take a break from praising the Almighty to guide us to where the lost library book rests.
The Clown has earned the nickname of "St. Anthony"- because she is really good at finding lost things. I'm always calling upon her when something has gone astray. She has a good turn around time! This is also why I ask her to find things that I have lost in my mind. So many times I will leave a room, only to stop and holler her name to remind me why I had left the room to began with. She is also good with unwritten shopping lists, telephone numbers and keeping track of sibblings' forgotten punishments. . . hmmmm shouldn't be surprised about that last one.
What is this all leading to? I had a point, but I lost it : ) No, the point is I have been searching for a family hobby that would occupy a minimal amount of time and include all of us- from the 2 year old to the 45 year old (see prior post: "Happy Birthday to Me!"). I had all but given up- especially since we are not really sports oriented, not so musically talented that we could play anything remotely recognizable to any human, and don't possess the patience of Job, nor the wealth of Midas. Yet, about about 2 weeks ago, I stumbled upon an idea (probably under the guidance of St. Anthony) that looked like it was a hobby made just for us.
This activity is called Geocaching. It is also known as Letter Boxing. See the following link: http://www.geocaching.com/seek/nearest.aspx?lat=39.01103&lng=-95.777829&dist=5
This is a hobby where you use your GPS Navigation Device (yes, of course we have one- my husband's solution to keeping us from getting lost around town) to input a set of coordinates. Then, piling into the car, you follow the GPS to the set point and find the cache that is hidden. Wow! A hobby involving looking for something that is hidden?!? It should be called "Mooradian-ing."
What makes the search fun is that the end result could be a bit of a treasure- a medium/large size cache holds little goodies that you can trade out, or disguises that you don and photograph to upload as proof of your successful find. There are also little/microscopic size caches that usually just hold a log that you sign and date.
Our first few attempts were nothing shy of a complete failure (St. Anthony?!?). But, on the 3rd attempt, we found the needle in the haystack and you'd thought we'd found the cure for cancer! Considering we weren't using our GPS correctly, it was on the level of brain surgery. It felt so much more of an accomplishment too because we weathered 102 degree heat, around a 3/10 mile walk and overgrown grass that harbored overgrown grasshoppers (at least according to The Jane Austen Wanna Be).
A round of root beer floats proved to be the best way to celebrate (which coincidentaly, we also included the celebrating of finding a lost library book). Lots of bragging ensued, along with posting our pictures on the website. It appears that an answer to our hobby search has been found! I'm actually quite surprised that The boy and The Cute One Who Always get Free Stuff at Garage Sales were the two children that started begging to go Geocaching again- especially since they were the first two to give up searching when we were out in the field. Perhaps is just that they ejnoyed the time together we had as a family, with a common goal at hand. Maybe it was they were relieved to break of the regular routine to get out of the house. Possibly they just liked seeing The Jane Austen Wanna Be get flustered and mad at the GPS in what we call the Geocaching Rage. I'm not sure, but I know that we are building memories and having fun.
Thank you Lord that you don't need to work so hard to keep track of us, your children. I can rest knowing that no matter where my children or I am, you are keeping close track of us.
Now, if I could just get a fixed coordinates on each of our checked out library books. . .
Finding and Surviving Myself,
Mary
Monday, August 29, 2011
Bug Bites, Bruises and Curtain Closings
September is upon us- another summer just about gone. Boy, I remember when I was little, summer was such a gift-3 long months to indulge in sleeping in, staying up late and endless trips to the pool and library. I do think my kids enjoy the summer time they have, but I realized that our summer is quite like the rest of the year. Since we do summer school- a lighter version of regular school- there is little escape from school. Trips to the library continue all year around and pool time morphs into snow play (it's all water). But, there are a few things I think we are anxious to wave goodbye to that come with summer. . .
Bug bites. There are times in the summer where my kids look like they have chicken pox due to the multiple bites they've incurred. I can't help but wonder why it is we never feel these little pests until after their duty is done. If we were bombarded by a herd of elephants- not a doubt we'd feel it. If we were overrun by a pack of dogs, we'd run like a bunch of scared girls-screams included! If we happened to run across an army of frogs, there would be more screaming than before- and that would be from just me. A swarm of bees- I trust we would find our legs pumping to escape. Why there is certain times when we can even feel 1 hair out of place on our heads. So, I am absolutely baffled that 20 to 30 mosquitoes can search, swarm and suck on the fruits of our obviously good tasting blood and we don't feel a thing until after they are gone and we are left with more spots than a dot to dot book.
Thank God for hydrocortisone! Dousing this out has become my part time summer job. The pay is terrible and the applications can be worse- bugs have a way of finding obscure body parts to bite! The poor Baby Boy- he must have sweeeet blood. He had so many bites this summer. One in particular was in his underarm and due to his constant attention of scratching, it grew to the size of a small country- well at least to the size of a well defined bicep- too bad he couldn't show that off as a muscle- especially since he has just now come to acceptance of wearing muscle shirts. Jane Austen Wanna be assured him daily that he had a tumor growing there. He would just respond by more scratching.
Happily, we wave goodbye to summer bug bites!
Bruises. I know, this is seriously something that is a year round occurrence. However, my kids are a bit more daring during the summer. I'm sure it has something to do with the freedom in less layers of clothes, barefoot running and fried brain cells due to high summer temperatures. This last summer, The Cute one who Gets Everything Free at Garage Sales, The Boy and The Baby Boy took it upon themselves to learn how to do front flips on the trampoline. I keep looking at the warning sign on the side of the trampoline that shows a stick figure with a neck broke in half. Scary! I don't think I was ever more relieved when the older of the three had "brain block" all of the sudden and couldn't remember how to do it any longer. I put on my best "Awwwww, too bad" face and then danced the "Whooo-Hooo" dance behind their back! And being the baby, The Baby Boy has decided to copy his older siblings and "forget" how to roll on the trampoline too.
Other toys like bikes and skateboards are summer time fun and bring a barrage of scrapes and bang-ups with them. We do like spending time outside playing with the multitude of yard toys, so it is inevitable that in just about 2 days my children have dawned the "knee socks" of brown and purple bruises. The boys wear them proudly and love to capture any one's ear to relate all the stories that earned them their badges, which surprisingly always involves pirates and sharks, not to mention guns and sailing through the air. Have to love the imagination!
The Boy has just learned to ride his bike without training wheels- no easy feat for a 4 year old, but he was majorly determined and encouraged by the older sisters he took off. I can't help but beam when my kids catch on to bike riding, it amazes me that the same child who can't walk across the room without knocking into chairs, couches or other siblings can manage balancing on 2 wheels and glide somewhat smoothly down the driveway. And now the bruise stories can be a bit more thrilling- for as everyone knows, escaping from a shark riding pirate is always more fun on a motorcycle than on foot!
Closing the curtains. Sigh. The sad part of summer ending is the curtains close a bit earlier each night. With the daylight growing shorter, it feels as if we are somehow robbed of time and often we find ourselves wondering where the hours went and we scurry to get everything done. The winter solstice and return of a bit longer light is celebrated like Christmas for us. The moment we are sitting around the supper table and all of the sudden realize we can still clearly see outside is call for a hoopla.
While I'll quote my mother in saying "God made the bugs for a purpose!" I'm happily envisioning Heaven shy of bugs therefore free of bites! Sadly, for boys, the bruises fade, so I'm assuming Heaven full of bruise stories that mirror the fish stories of "the one that got away" - lacking proof to impress. And joyfully I'm banking on my Heavenly mansion with curtains always thrown wide open letting the glory of God shine on my supper table each and every night!
Contentedly surviving myself,
Mary
Bug bites. There are times in the summer where my kids look like they have chicken pox due to the multiple bites they've incurred. I can't help but wonder why it is we never feel these little pests until after their duty is done. If we were bombarded by a herd of elephants- not a doubt we'd feel it. If we were overrun by a pack of dogs, we'd run like a bunch of scared girls-screams included! If we happened to run across an army of frogs, there would be more screaming than before- and that would be from just me. A swarm of bees- I trust we would find our legs pumping to escape. Why there is certain times when we can even feel 1 hair out of place on our heads. So, I am absolutely baffled that 20 to 30 mosquitoes can search, swarm and suck on the fruits of our obviously good tasting blood and we don't feel a thing until after they are gone and we are left with more spots than a dot to dot book.
Thank God for hydrocortisone! Dousing this out has become my part time summer job. The pay is terrible and the applications can be worse- bugs have a way of finding obscure body parts to bite! The poor Baby Boy- he must have sweeeet blood. He had so many bites this summer. One in particular was in his underarm and due to his constant attention of scratching, it grew to the size of a small country- well at least to the size of a well defined bicep- too bad he couldn't show that off as a muscle- especially since he has just now come to acceptance of wearing muscle shirts. Jane Austen Wanna be assured him daily that he had a tumor growing there. He would just respond by more scratching.
Happily, we wave goodbye to summer bug bites!
Bruises. I know, this is seriously something that is a year round occurrence. However, my kids are a bit more daring during the summer. I'm sure it has something to do with the freedom in less layers of clothes, barefoot running and fried brain cells due to high summer temperatures. This last summer, The Cute one who Gets Everything Free at Garage Sales, The Boy and The Baby Boy took it upon themselves to learn how to do front flips on the trampoline. I keep looking at the warning sign on the side of the trampoline that shows a stick figure with a neck broke in half. Scary! I don't think I was ever more relieved when the older of the three had "brain block" all of the sudden and couldn't remember how to do it any longer. I put on my best "Awwwww, too bad" face and then danced the "Whooo-Hooo" dance behind their back! And being the baby, The Baby Boy has decided to copy his older siblings and "forget" how to roll on the trampoline too.
Other toys like bikes and skateboards are summer time fun and bring a barrage of scrapes and bang-ups with them. We do like spending time outside playing with the multitude of yard toys, so it is inevitable that in just about 2 days my children have dawned the "knee socks" of brown and purple bruises. The boys wear them proudly and love to capture any one's ear to relate all the stories that earned them their badges, which surprisingly always involves pirates and sharks, not to mention guns and sailing through the air. Have to love the imagination!
The Boy has just learned to ride his bike without training wheels- no easy feat for a 4 year old, but he was majorly determined and encouraged by the older sisters he took off. I can't help but beam when my kids catch on to bike riding, it amazes me that the same child who can't walk across the room without knocking into chairs, couches or other siblings can manage balancing on 2 wheels and glide somewhat smoothly down the driveway. And now the bruise stories can be a bit more thrilling- for as everyone knows, escaping from a shark riding pirate is always more fun on a motorcycle than on foot!
Closing the curtains. Sigh. The sad part of summer ending is the curtains close a bit earlier each night. With the daylight growing shorter, it feels as if we are somehow robbed of time and often we find ourselves wondering where the hours went and we scurry to get everything done. The winter solstice and return of a bit longer light is celebrated like Christmas for us. The moment we are sitting around the supper table and all of the sudden realize we can still clearly see outside is call for a hoopla.
While I'll quote my mother in saying "God made the bugs for a purpose!" I'm happily envisioning Heaven shy of bugs therefore free of bites! Sadly, for boys, the bruises fade, so I'm assuming Heaven full of bruise stories that mirror the fish stories of "the one that got away" - lacking proof to impress. And joyfully I'm banking on my Heavenly mansion with curtains always thrown wide open letting the glory of God shine on my supper table each and every night!
Contentedly surviving myself,
Mary
Friday, August 12, 2011
Loosening the Apron Strings
Can someone tell me the secret to slowing time? I'm pretty sure summer just started, and yet here it is school time again. I do remember some individual days here and there, but maybe they are all jumbled in with the "I'm bored, what can I do?" days and the "It's so hot-I'm melting!" months.
Regardless of the reasons, I'm staring at the front end of September as it is peeking around the corner. (Yes, I am one of the dying breed who waits until after Labor Day to start school. Okay, well not totally- as the Jane Austen Wanna Be, Bookworm and Clown would testify since they started doing some of next year's schoolwork already. But, I really got tired of them having too much time loafing around and couldn't get them to do more housework so I could loaf around!) But, this summer I was wanting to put the brakes on, just a bit. I'm surrendering the Jane Austen Wanna Be to college classes this year. And, I truly am proud like a strutting rooster, but I'm also apprehensive like a mother hen. (By the way, did you ever notice apprehensive has the word "hen" in it? Of course it also has the word "app" in it, which will be what the Jane Austen Wanna Be will be wishing she would have - an app for "reassuring mom that I am doing okay.")
I did have in mind building some neat memories for the family this summer since we are entering a new chapter in life. Somehow between high gas prices and the oldest off to various babysitting jobs, I lost track of time. I didn't even get in a good stay-cation!
Wait, before I start throwing a pity party, I did get a lot of laughs in this summer and since you've hung in reading this far, I'm going to share my latest. Don't stop reading now, it is a cute, little laugh.
As the Jane Austen Wanna Be, Bookworm and I were driving to the gym, we were listening to one of our favorite, okay only, NPR radio shows, Car Talk. This show, Click and Clack were listing the top 5 professions that have the most car wrecks. Our minds were flying trying to see if we could guess the correct answers- and some of them we had correct. The top profession that has car wrecks is students (Who said this is a profession?!? I must have missed many years of paychecks when I was in school!) The number 2 profession is medical doctors (Sure glad the operate better than they drive!) Number 3 is lawyers (insert your own joke here_____________________). Number 5 is real estate agents- makes sense- eyes on the houses, not the road.
Yes, I know, I skipped number 4- here is where the joke on me comes in. I mentioned in the last blog how the sense of hearing has been slipping- and hitting 45, I mean 40, is probably not going to help this. Anyway, the 4th profession for having the most accidents is "Unknown." Yet, deaf me hears "A Gnome." As I swerve to avoid the ditch, due to my laughing and wondering "Gnomes?!? - of course they would have car accidents- can't see over the steering wheel!" My kids, suddenly aware of the importance of seat belts, inform me of the real category- which, by they way is not, N-O-T as funny as gnomes!
How does this tie into apron strings? We'll I'm unloosing the Jane Austen Wanna Be to make the drive to the community college (60 miles round trip) all by herself. You parents know- it's not the child you don't trust, it's everyone else's driving that concerns you! No, really, she'll be fine; I've already made sure she knows the route and have sent her on various errands with guinea pig siblings to get the new driver impulses under her belt. BUT, it is really about me coming to accept that my baby is growing up. And I'm not sure how it slipped by me so quickly. Was it the endless days of changing diapers to tying shoes to glasses, to braces, to schooling, schooling, schooling. . . ? Sigh.
Why didn't someone tell me to just stop more often and forget about what I thought was so pressing and important to finish and just enjoy? Pause time? Breathe it all in? Hold it in my heart?
Believe me, experiencing these feelings with the oldest one will make me appreciate and enjoy the time I have with the other ones- of course they probably will get tired of Mom giving them a "goofy- I love you look" and they probably won't welcome the bricks I'm going to place on their heads to slow growth- Oh, who said I was going to accept all this easily? But they will know that their mother is treasuring them and thanking God for the blessing He gave me in choosing me to be their mother.
So, the knot in the apron is starting to slip a little. And next week I'll put on my happy face while I send my baby off to school (One thing I LOVE about homeschooling- I was able to put off the separation of the first day of school from age 5 to age 16!!) and then I'll retreat back to the house, go down on my knees and pray that my heavenly Father will protect my child's body, heart, and soul~
Oh, and that He will also keep all the gnomes off the road!!
Painfully Surviving Myself,
Mary
Regardless of the reasons, I'm staring at the front end of September as it is peeking around the corner. (Yes, I am one of the dying breed who waits until after Labor Day to start school. Okay, well not totally- as the Jane Austen Wanna Be, Bookworm and Clown would testify since they started doing some of next year's schoolwork already. But, I really got tired of them having too much time loafing around and couldn't get them to do more housework so I could loaf around!) But, this summer I was wanting to put the brakes on, just a bit. I'm surrendering the Jane Austen Wanna Be to college classes this year. And, I truly am proud like a strutting rooster, but I'm also apprehensive like a mother hen. (By the way, did you ever notice apprehensive has the word "hen" in it? Of course it also has the word "app" in it, which will be what the Jane Austen Wanna Be will be wishing she would have - an app for "reassuring mom that I am doing okay.")
I did have in mind building some neat memories for the family this summer since we are entering a new chapter in life. Somehow between high gas prices and the oldest off to various babysitting jobs, I lost track of time. I didn't even get in a good stay-cation!
Wait, before I start throwing a pity party, I did get a lot of laughs in this summer and since you've hung in reading this far, I'm going to share my latest. Don't stop reading now, it is a cute, little laugh.
As the Jane Austen Wanna Be, Bookworm and I were driving to the gym, we were listening to one of our favorite, okay only, NPR radio shows, Car Talk. This show, Click and Clack were listing the top 5 professions that have the most car wrecks. Our minds were flying trying to see if we could guess the correct answers- and some of them we had correct. The top profession that has car wrecks is students (Who said this is a profession?!? I must have missed many years of paychecks when I was in school!) The number 2 profession is medical doctors (Sure glad the operate better than they drive!) Number 3 is lawyers (insert your own joke here_____________________). Number 5 is real estate agents- makes sense- eyes on the houses, not the road.
Yes, I know, I skipped number 4- here is where the joke on me comes in. I mentioned in the last blog how the sense of hearing has been slipping- and hitting 45, I mean 40, is probably not going to help this. Anyway, the 4th profession for having the most accidents is "Unknown." Yet, deaf me hears "A Gnome." As I swerve to avoid the ditch, due to my laughing and wondering "Gnomes?!? - of course they would have car accidents- can't see over the steering wheel!" My kids, suddenly aware of the importance of seat belts, inform me of the real category- which, by they way is not, N-O-T as funny as gnomes!
How does this tie into apron strings? We'll I'm unloosing the Jane Austen Wanna Be to make the drive to the community college (60 miles round trip) all by herself. You parents know- it's not the child you don't trust, it's everyone else's driving that concerns you! No, really, she'll be fine; I've already made sure she knows the route and have sent her on various errands with guinea pig siblings to get the new driver impulses under her belt. BUT, it is really about me coming to accept that my baby is growing up. And I'm not sure how it slipped by me so quickly. Was it the endless days of changing diapers to tying shoes to glasses, to braces, to schooling, schooling, schooling. . . ? Sigh.
Why didn't someone tell me to just stop more often and forget about what I thought was so pressing and important to finish and just enjoy? Pause time? Breathe it all in? Hold it in my heart?
Believe me, experiencing these feelings with the oldest one will make me appreciate and enjoy the time I have with the other ones- of course they probably will get tired of Mom giving them a "goofy- I love you look" and they probably won't welcome the bricks I'm going to place on their heads to slow growth- Oh, who said I was going to accept all this easily? But they will know that their mother is treasuring them and thanking God for the blessing He gave me in choosing me to be their mother.
So, the knot in the apron is starting to slip a little. And next week I'll put on my happy face while I send my baby off to school (One thing I LOVE about homeschooling- I was able to put off the separation of the first day of school from age 5 to age 16!!) and then I'll retreat back to the house, go down on my knees and pray that my heavenly Father will protect my child's body, heart, and soul~
Oh, and that He will also keep all the gnomes off the road!!
Painfully Surviving Myself,
Mary
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Tech Post
GUEST POST ALERT:
Hi everyone! Jane Austen Wanna-be here. I wanted to share with you gals and guys about some of the technical stuff on the blog.
I'm sitting here enjoying my starbursts (a little treat mom got me for fixing the computer. Did I mention she got me the BIG pack? I work for peanuts...OK, candy.) Hmmmm....what's Mom trying to do? She's just insuring the fact that I'll always have a reason to stick with her on the Supreme 90 exercise program.
Between a broken computer router and the Bookworm's new Nook, I have been playing Geek Squad for the past few days...I'm such a social reject. No offense to readers who are members of the Geek Squad - I love you! I had to have you fix my laptop (that I broke) for free!! (did I mention this incident involved an 8 month old baby! That one wasn't my fault!)
I am watching Mom's visitors on the stat counter go higher and higher - but we are still left with 1 follower...Thank you Mrs. Butcher!! So, here are the steps to become a follower:
1. Under the section "followers" click the tab that says "Join This Site."
2. Sign in with either Google, Yahoo, or Twitter. (or create an account with either of these 3)
Here are the steps to comment:
1. On the end of each post there is a section that says "0 comments."
2. Click that.
3. Type in your comment.
4. Select a account to post your comment as
5. Post your comment.
Here are the steps to subscribe to the blog through your e-mail so that you can get posts sent directly to your e-mail.
1. At the top of the blog there is a section that looks like a search engine.
2. Enter your e-mail.
3. Click the "subscribe" button.
Hope this was helpful! Comment if you like the blog!
Jane Austen Wanna-be.
Hi everyone! Jane Austen Wanna-be here. I wanted to share with you gals and guys about some of the technical stuff on the blog.
I'm sitting here enjoying my starbursts (a little treat mom got me for fixing the computer. Did I mention she got me the BIG pack? I work for peanuts...OK, candy.) Hmmmm....what's Mom trying to do? She's just insuring the fact that I'll always have a reason to stick with her on the Supreme 90 exercise program.
Between a broken computer router and the Bookworm's new Nook, I have been playing Geek Squad for the past few days...I'm such a social reject. No offense to readers who are members of the Geek Squad - I love you! I had to have you fix my laptop (that I broke) for free!! (did I mention this incident involved an 8 month old baby! That one wasn't my fault!)
I am watching Mom's visitors on the stat counter go higher and higher - but we are still left with 1 follower...Thank you Mrs. Butcher!! So, here are the steps to become a follower:
1. Under the section "followers" click the tab that says "Join This Site."
2. Sign in with either Google, Yahoo, or Twitter. (or create an account with either of these 3)
Here are the steps to comment:
1. On the end of each post there is a section that says "0 comments."
2. Click that.
3. Type in your comment.
4. Select a account to post your comment as
5. Post your comment.
Here are the steps to subscribe to the blog through your e-mail so that you can get posts sent directly to your e-mail.
1. At the top of the blog there is a section that looks like a search engine.
2. Enter your e-mail.
3. Click the "subscribe" button.
Hope this was helpful! Comment if you like the blog!
Jane Austen Wanna-be.
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