Looking at Things the Other Way Around

Barb over at SFO Mom had an interesting post about those unkind thoughts that sometimes pop unbidden into your head. It got me thinking, and since I didn't want to hijack her comments box I thought I'd write my own post.

Here are a few of the things she cites:

I'm wondering what's up with the mother of a young toddler. Mom is wearing large silver bracelets with her swimsuit, and she's talking on her cell phone while helping her little one in and out of the baby pool.

I'm trying to figure out why a little boy who appears to be about 4 years old has obvious highlights done to his hair. Not the "sun-kissed" highlights some kids (including mine) naturally get, and not that strange bleaching where the tips of the hair are bleached but the parts close to the head are the natural color, but actual highlights. Did this little boy ask for that?

I think everyone has this experience. You see someone do something that you can't imagine yourself doing, and immediately wonder "what is wrong with that person?"

Sometimes, I find, it helps to try to think of reasons things are happening the way they are.

Let me give a couple of examples. I read once in one of those little filler anecdotes in Reader's Digest, about people who had gone to see the opera (I'm a little sketchy on the details, but the point is the same) and as the curtain went up and the music started someone's cell phone rang. Now, naturally everyone near the offender gave dirty looks and probably thought things to the effect of 'can't that person even go to the opera without having to talk on the phone, what's wrong with people these days?' The person answered their phone, spoke quietly into it, and then turned to her companion: "We need to go, they have a donor organ for you."

One time I saw a young person who was obviously crippled (for lack of a better word) who was struggling to walk with crutches and twisted legs. My first thought was "how horrible". But then I thought: What if that person was never expected to walk? What if every step they take is a victory. And then I thought 'How wonderful."

It's all a matter of which way you chose to look at something.

So for the matters that Barb cites. Perhaps the woman on her cell phone with the toddler was getting an update on a gravely ill grandparent, perhaps she was talking to a friend who was going through a stressful time, perhaps it was a business call, and if she didn't have the cell phone she'd have to be at home, with the child watching TV so she could concentrate, or even at an office, while the child was in day care. Maybe instead of thinking about how this woman couldn't even seem to be giving her child her full attention, you could think, it's good that she's able to take the child to the pool, even when she has to be on the phone.

And, yes, it's possible the woman is just having a discussion about her latest manicure and always has the phone to her ear - but if we don't know, why not think the more charitable thing.

The little boy with highlights in his hair. I don't know why. I do know that when Pippi was two years old and had a head full of curls I had a neighbor ask me if they were natural. (Who would take the time to curl a toddlers hair? I can't even get her to let me brush it, I thought.) And maybe the little boy did ask for it, because he saw his Mom highlighting her hair and he wanted to be like her. Or maybe that was the best they could do to make it look better after he poured bleach on his head (hey kids do weird things).

Sometimes I can't come up with reasonable ways to look at things. When, on the first day of school, a first grade boy came to class with his hair in a multi-colored spiked mohawk, I couldn't (and still can't) imagine why anyone would want their child to look like that on the first day of first grade (when he's a teen he'll rebel by going Prep!)

So, my unsolicited advice is just try to look at things from another angle. That kid on the crutches: we can think of every step he takes as a tortured misery - or a hard-won victory.

Poetry Friday

A Fib Poem by Harry - though, Math Man that he is, he wasn't content to stop at 8 syllables, so he continued the Fibonacci sequence to 13 and 21 - he wanted to go up to 229, but I thought that was a few too many syllables to be working with.

Summer Vacation
by Harry

Read
Hot
Sweating
Breath taking
Lots of Math for Me
I like something cold for dinner
I love playing instruments in front of the AC
Writing stories is awesome when there are haikus in the middle of the awesome book.

The round up is at Shaken & Stirred. Stop by for some great poems.

Nihil Sub Sole Novum

Which I'm pretty sure means "Nothing under the sun is new." And that's my take on the fact that it may be easier for priests to offer Mass using the Tridentine rite.

Nothing is certain yet, but people are all having their say about the fact that changes may be in the works here.

As far as I know the change that might be coming is that a priest would no longer need to obtain special permission to use the Tridentine Rite, in Latin. That's it. That's the change. Not that all Masses would now be in Latin. Not that Vatican II is being done away with - but simply that special permission would not be needed. Notice that the Tridentine Mass can be said now - but approval must be sought first - and also, the Mass we're used to - the post 1962 Mass can be said in Latin if someone wants.

So, is this a good thing or a bad thing? I don't know.

I'm a post-Vatican II baby, and never went to a Mass in Latin. Now, I have been to Masses in German - and at the time thought "boy if we all used Latin then I'd know what was going on now" but I don't travel out of the country enough to have that be a real issue.

Some people really love the Latin Mass. They feel that it is more reverent. More mysterious.

Perhaps they're right. But I think that it is not the language that makes something reverent or not - it's the attitude of the people participating. The language is just words. "Deus" is not a holier word than "God." And as for mysterious - the Mass itself is a mystery in many ways - does the language need to add to it.

Personally, I like it when I can understand the Mass - and yes, I realize that you get used to the words and come to understand them - but I find that sometimes, even if you've heard something a hundred times, sometimes a new meaning comes to you because you make a new connection with the language. That wouldn't happen as much in a language you didn't truly understand.

But I do see some advantages. We have a small parish in our town that has three Masses on Sunday - the first is partially in Hungarian, the second is in English, the third in Korean. If all the Masses were in Latin, could those three separate groups all attend the same Masses and mingle more - would they be more of a community?

I suppose I like things the way they are (and for the most part nothing is really going to change - they just won't need special permission [providing I'm understanding this right]) but I suppose people of another generation liked things the way they were too.

The only thing constant is change (isn't that profound). And nihil sub sole novum.

He Knew it was a Continent Anyway

Harry in pool: Hey Mom, want to see me do the "African Crabwalk?"

Well, sure. Who wouldn't want to see that - and maybe even figure out what it is. So he proceeded to swim to the wall.

Me (once his head was above water again): Um, that was the Australian Crawl.

Harry (blushing a little): Oh. Yeah. That's what it's called.

The Squirrels are Taking Over

It's not that I don't like squirrels. Well, actually maybe it is that I don't like squirrels (see story below). But it seems that the squirrels have taken over our yard. There chattering was so loud this morning it was audible from inside the house.

There was a squirrel on our front step. When I tried to shoo him away, he just looked at me (I'm calling them all he, even though, as you might suspect, I don't know for sure). They sit on our deck rail (and use it as a bathroom - ick). They eat our raspberries. They eat our roses. They eat our cone flowers. They eat the bird food. And they don't scare easy.

There is a family of about six squirrels that lives in a neighbors tree. They spend their time chasing noisily after each other - and eating our plants). And they cavort throughout the yard.

Now, I'm not averse to creatures cavorting. But our backyard is small, and I'd like to have the space available for human use.

I realize that squirrels are a minor problem. We don't have deer eating all our plants like some of my friends do. We don't have bears breaking into our house (which happened in North Jersey.) These are squirrels - not ground hogs or muskrats or raccoons or skunks.

But squirrels (although they are little and cute) bug me and here's why:

Why I Like to Keep my Distance from Squirrels

When I was in first grade we had squirrels in our attic. Not as bad as having bats in the belfry (that was our neighbor) but a nuisance all the same. We needed to get the squirrels out and my mom figured the way to do it was to sit on the roof, lure them out with food, and then put chicken wire over the opening.

So she did this. My mom sat on the roof, feeding baby squirrels. As a result the squirrels got pretty tame. And the plan seemed to work. Though one of the squirrels did fall off the roof and our neighbor a fifth-grade veterinarian wanna be tried to nurse it back to health (I don't think it worked, but I could be wrong there).

The other mishap was when one of the little squirrels fell down the chimney. It got trapped on the flue. My dad put a box in the fireplace and opened the flue, the thought being that the squirrel would fall into the box and be transported outside.

My brother and I watched. The squirrel missed the box. Chaos ensued. Somehow the squirrel was removed from the house - but I don't know how - my brother and I had wisely made ourselves scarce for that part of the adventure.

But none of these things are the reason that I don't care for squirrels.

See one day (it was a gym day at school, so I was wearing pants instead of a skirt - which becomes important later in the story) my neighbor (the fifth grader) and I were racing home from the bus stop. He went around the front of the houses, I went around the back (we were going to back doors, his house was one house further), he had a sprained ankle - it was a pretty fair race. And as I got to the back of our house - just outside the kitchen window - one of those cute looking, and now relatively tame, squirrels, ran right up my pant leg - circling around.

I screamed.

The squirrel jumped off and ran away.

My mom came running, my fifth-grade neighbor came running.

My brother hid under a kitchen chair.

I was okay - but shaken.

And that is the reason that I prefer that squirrels keep their distance. (Do you think a super soaker will convince them to give up our backyard as their new play space?)

It's Hot Out There

Okay - it's not unbearable. And it is summer - so it's supposed to be hot. But, just the same - it's hot. We'll be heading to the pool soon. But more importantly, I need to find a better spot to position my lap top - because where it is now gets absolutely no air circulation. So, even if there's a bit of a refreshing breeze - I don't get it. And I can't think when I'm hot.

Air conditioners, I hear you wondering. Yes, we have them - but the window units aren't installed yet - so we're muddling through.

Tuesday's Proverb

Say not to your neighbor, "Go, and come again, tomorrow I will give," when you can give at once. (Proverbs 3:28)

Good Mood Monday

It's the first Monday of summer vacation. That right there is enough to put anyone in a good mood. But even better - around here - it's the first day the counselors are at the playground.

We have a playground across the street and down two lots from us. During the summer (from the end of June till the beginning of August) the township employs teenagers to play games and do crafts with the kids at the playground (and playgrounds all throughout the township.)

So - that's where the kids are. And will be every day that we don't have something else planned. How fun!

Book Giveaway

There's a chance to win a free book going on over at Overwhelmed With Joy. She's got a copy of The Memory Keeper's Daughter to give to one lucky person. Since I've heard good things about that book - but haven't read it yet, I'm going to take a chance. Stop on over and try your luck as well!

That Catholic Show

There's a new episode of That Catholic Show available. I just discovered this great podcast a few weeks ago. Enjoy.

St. John the Baptist

Today is the feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist. (Incidentally, since John is six months older than Jesus, I suppose that means we're about six months away from Christmas.)

John is an interesting fellow. We don't know a lot about him, but we know more about him than we do many people mentioned in the bible.

His birth was a surprise to his parents. They were old. I'm not sure what this meant in biblical times. Was Elizabeth actually elderly - or just beyond the normal child-bearing years? It doesn't matter much. The point was that no one expected Elizabeth and Zachariah to have a child. Including themselves. But a messenger from God comes to Zachariah and tells him that he and his wife are going to have a baby. He is openly skeptical and doubtful and thus is struck mute until the event should unfold.

This has always seemed a little unfair to me. After all, Zachariah had reason on his side. There was no reason to suspect that after all this time Elizabeth would finally become pregnant. And, Mary also questioned. She asked the angel how this thing would happen to her since she knew no man. Also a reasonable question. I suppose it was all a matter of tone.

Regardless, Zachariah is mute for the next nine months, regaining his voice when he lets the assembled gathering at his son's circumcision know that the boy's name is John.

And during Elizabeth's pregnancy, of course, Mary visits, and the babe in Elizabeth's womb leaps with recognition of the Lord.

After John's birth though, we don't see him again until he is a grown man. Did he and Jesus ever meet? They were related after all. How long did his parents live? They were old when he was born. Was he orphaned young? Some suspect he went and lived with a group of Essenes in the desert.

Whatever he did, he eventually ended up preaching in the desert and baptizing people in the Jordan. He must have been a pretty powerful presence - people suspected that he was the Messiah.

But he wasn't the Messiah. He was only preparing the way.

And he knew it.

That's the interesting thing. John did not attempt to take any glory for himself. He did not try to make himself important. People were following him; flocking to him. It would have been easy to start to believe that they were coming all because of him, and that he was a person of great importance. And when Jesus appeared on the scene, John knew to back off. Because he knew that what was important was his mission and his message.

And really - isn't that's what's important for all of us. Who we are doesn't matter as much as the message we give and live.

John's message was that the Messiah was coming.

Our message should be that the Messiah has come. And he is still among us in his own way.

John did a wonderful job of spreading his message. How are we doing spreading ours?

Old Time Fun

There were no radios playing. No hand held games usurping children's attention. The sun was warm. There was a nice breeze. The sheep in the pasture seemed content. The geese milled around by the pond. In the farm house a cold drink could be gotten from the ice box. And on the lawn in front of the farmhouse a game was in progress.

The ball was made of rags. The bat was a stylized stick. The bases were poles sticking out of the ground and the hitter stood between home plate and first base while waiting for the thrower to toss the ball. Any hit was good. Even if it went backward. Even if it went backward and over the fence. But then in the spirit of fairness, the runners who ran two bases had to go back one. The referee - a man in a straw hat sitting in a chair in the middle of the infield - made that call. Question the referee and you'll be fined a penny. One out and the other team gets up.

A lovely description of an afternoon spent in a time long gone, right? Well, right - but also a description of an afternoon spent at the Howell Living History Farm.

It was baseball 1900s style, and while the kids played for the Howell Farm Hogs, my husband, brother and sister-in-law and I sat with our backs to the sheep pasture and watched. If it took more than two or three swings to connect with that rag ball - it was okay (until the referee decided that the grown-up who swung hard but kept missing the perfectly good pitches had indeed struck out).

The game was scheduled to go for 20 innings. Which isn't too bad if you only get one out. But we had to pull the kids after the 11th inning because we had someplace else we had to be and wanted to explore the farm a little.

Exploring the farm led us to the granary where a woman was grinding corn for hog feed. Pippi and Harry tried their hands at it - and Harry ground over 7 pounds of corn, while Pippi helped the woman mix the right recipe for the hogs. Harry liked grinding corn so much he wants a corn grinder for home. Hmmm - even if we found one - where would we get enough dried corn?

It was a lovely afternoon, and it makes me yearn for days gone by. But even in these days it is good to remember that a lot of fun can be had with a ball made of rags, a nice solid stick and a bunch of other people willing to have fun with you. We don't need to spend a lot of money on toys for our kids - we just have to be willing to have fun with them.

Poetry Friday - A Memory

I asked my daughter for a poem for today - because she's the poet in the house. And she shared this one. It's a "Memory Poem" and it's taken from the day that my mother and I took Pippi into The City (that would be New York) to go to the American Girl Place.

The Train – A Memory Poem
by Pippi

One beautiful Mother’s Day morning
We were waiting at the train station
On the huge cement platform
Seeing the amazing emerald spring trees
Clutching my soft doll tightly
Hearing a screeching train whistle
Gaping at the ebony black train
Clambering on the snaky machine
Smelling the blue seats coffee-bean smell
Feeling the cushiony seats
Saying farewell to the station
Feeling the soft, low rumble of the train
The wheels turned
The train moved up the track
New York here we come!

The round-up this week is at a wrung sponge.

That Works

Daddy to Harry: Can you spell 'Prestidigitation'?
Harry: I don’t even know what it means.
Daddy: It means magic tricks.
Harry: I can spell 'magic tricks.'

Thanks to All the Teachers

Today is the last day of school. A much looked forward to day around here. (And pretty much anywhere where kids go to school, I imagine.)

In honor of their teachers, Harry and Pippi wrote Thank You letters to them.

Dear Mrs. H:

Thank you for the great time I had in 4^th grade. I had more fun than you could ever imagine. Your auction was spectacular, whale week was supreme. Raising monarchs and painted ladies was quite the experience.

You are truly a talented poet. Getting all the words to rhyme is tough. I’ve yet to master it!

I had the best year ever. It is so hard to say goodbye.

I’m never going to regret this perfect year. I’m never going to forget you. You were a perfect teacher.

Love

Pippi

Dear Miss B.,

Thank you for being a awsome teacher. You helped the whole class learn a lot of math; addition, subtraction, money, fractions, ones and tens, multiplication, division, and regrouping. The stories that we write are good, but your stories are especially good. I think you are the best teacher on earth. I really am going to miss you.

Love,

Harry (grade 1)

And I say thanks to the teachers and the parents and everyone else who makes the public schools work day after day. Enjoy your summer.

For All The Graduates

Congratulations!
picture from Harry's pre-school graduation two years ago.

If It's Not Asking Too Much

Last night, the lightning started around 20 after ten. Now, the children should be fast asleep by then, and not bothered at all. But, no. Not my children. And Harry was scared. So scared he thought he might throw up. He didn't, of course.
"Pray with me," he said as I got him back into bed.
So we did the Sign of the Cross and I looked at him. "What is it you want to pray?" I asked.
"God, please keep everyone in the whole world safe," he said.

Amen to that.

Why I Blog...

Laurie at Sea Glass Hearts tagged me for the Inquiring Minds Want to Know: Your Blogging Story Carnival at Don't Try This at Home.

I'm afraid my blogging story isn't terribly interesting - but here goes.

How did you start blogging?
I started blogging because my friend Liz had started, and it seemed like fun.

Did you intend to have a blog with a big following? If so, how did you go about getting it?
No, and I don’t think I have a big following now. Though more than when I started. The following I did get, I got (I suppose) by linking to other blogs, leaving comments - generally making myself part of a community.

What do you hope to achieve or accomplish with your blog? Have you been successful? If not, do you have a plan to achieve those goals?
I hoped to have a place to have my say, and also to make sure I kept writing. I think I’ve done both of those things.

Has the focus of your blog changed since you started blogging? How?
Not really, my blog focuses on my thoughts and reactions to daily life.

What do you know now that you wish you'd known when you started?
That I’d become acquainted with so many great people –it’s like having friends all over the world.

Do you make money with your blog?
No – but that would be nice, wouldn’t it.

Does your immediate or extended family know about your blog? If so, do they read it? If not, why?
Some of my family reads it, some do not. I don’t ask them to – but I think most know about it.

What two pieces of advice would you give to a new blogger?
Reach out to others and comment in others blogs. Comments are one of the only ways we know if people are listening. Become part of the community, link to other blogs. And try to write regularly. With any habit – if you stop its hard to start again.

There is a round-up of "Why I Blog" posts at Don't Try This at Home. Check it out. And add your own.

Tuesday's Proverb

Refuse no one the good on which he has a claim when it is in your power to do it for him. (Proverbs 3:27)

Good Mood Monday

Okay, so Monday's nearly over and I haven't posted a good mood post yet. This is not because I'm not in a good mood. This is because I haven't been on the computer. The kids had a half-day today, and we bought Slurpees on the way home, and then went to the library to sign up for the summer reading program and then to the pool. After dinner we headed to the music store to pick up a few odds and ends.

There are lots of reasons to be in a good mood. The weather was hot today, but cooling down nicely tonight, friends of ours were at the pool - and even at 7-11 buying Slurpees with us.

Mainly I'm in a good mood because I realized that my kids don't mind bucking the main stream. We were at the pool and one of my kids friends mentioned that he didn't plan to read at all this summer. Summer was for playing. My kids can't imagine not reading for that length of time (remember we had to sign up for the reading program before we could hit the pool - priorities).
My kids don't watch TV. They don't have any video games. They don't seem bothered by this.
They can quote Shakespeare and play instruments and all kinds of other fun stuff. So, I'm in a good mood because I know that Pippi and Harry will not spend their summer vacation glued to a TV screen and if last summer is any indication, I won't be hearing "I'm bored" from them either.

Daddy's Hands

Daddy's hands are big and strong
They'll never let you down.
They'll hold your hands when times are rough
And guide you on your way.

Daddy's hands can fix things
And make them good as new.
Daddy's hands can throw a pitch
And catch a fly ball too.

A Daddy is a special man
Who shows his love as only he can
By keeping you safe in his hands.

To all the wonderful fathers out there: Especially my dad, and my husband. Happy Father's Day.

The picture is of Pippi and her Dad when she was a couple of months old.

Poetry Friday - The Round Up

A Poetry Friday Haiku
From near and from far
Bloggers come to share their poems
It is the round-up

And now for a real poem, by a real poet.

Still I Love to Rhyme
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Still I love to rhyme, and still more, rhyming, to wander
Far from the commoner way;
Old-time trills and falls by the brook-side still do I ponder,
Dreaming to-morrow to-day.

Come here, come, revive me, Sun-God, teach me, Apollo,
Measures descanted before;
Since I ancient verses, I emulous follow,
Prints in the marbles of yore.

Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested,
Songs for the brain to forget -
Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested
Piping and chirruping yet.

Thoughts? No thought has yet unskilled attempted to flutter
Trammelled so vilely in verse;
He who writes but aims at fame and his bread and his butter,
Won with a groan and a curse.

Welcome to the The Poetry Friday Roundup. Thanks to HipWriterMama for showing me how to work Mr. Linky. Leave your name, the specific url of your poetry post, and add a comment on what your poetry submission is all about. Then, pour yourself a glass of wine, and enjoy a Literary Happy Hour. Cheers.

Next week the round-up is at a wrung sponge.

With Father’s Day this weekend Jen Barney, John Mutford, Becky at Farm School, and the Wordy Girls all share poems about fathers.

There were several Haikus this week from Kim at Hireath, Leslie’s husband at Lex Venit, and What Adrienne Thinks About That.

Dogs and other animals (including bugs) made their appearance at Amick’s Articles, Adventures in Daily Living, The Write One and Liz in Ink.

With Yeats’ Birthday coming up Michele and Kelly shared some of his work.

Motherreader and Blog from the Windowsill shared songs.

A Year of Reading brings us a Fable, and Miss Erin provides us with a cautionary tale.

Reviews of poetry books were brought to us by Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, Chicken Spaghetti, A Chair a Fireplace and a Tea Cozy, and Biblio File.

There are original poems at a wrung sponge (an Ode to a retired rag doll), Karen Edmisten (a very thoughtful poem by her daughter), Above the Clouds (where Lana G stops off for some coffee), at The Miss Rumphius Effect Tricia was inspired by her trip to China and at Brand New Ending (a poem inspired by her son).

Elaine brings us a interview with a poet, and a post about a poet.

Kimberly at Lectitans celebrates the end of school.

At Charlotte’s Library we have tips for memorizing a poem and Journey Woman introduces us to a new way to look at a poem.

And there is a little Snow White from Akelda the Gleeful.

At Fuse #8 Productions, we have a delightful poem about picky lovers.

Monica at Books are our Friends shares an Afternoon on a Hill by Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Maureene has a little ee cummings.

NYC Teacher has a beautiful poem by Myra Cohn Livingston, and Kelly at Big A little a shares a little Baba Yaga.

At Digital Changeling there's a poem about a Railway Engineer.

And Melissa Wiley’s thoughts turn to the sea and to Walt Whitman.

If a post fit more than one category, I only mentioned it once (there was one post that would have fit in three!)

Edited to add two more Father's Day themed poems at HipWriterMama and Poetry for Children.

Edited to add again: Little Willow shares a little Robert Frost.

Flag Day

You're a Grand Old Flag

by George M. Cohan

You're a grand old flag,
You're a high flying flag
And forever in peace may you wave.
You're the emblem of
The land I love.
The home of the free and the brave.
Ev'ry heart beats true
'neath the Red, White and Blue,
Where there's never a boast or brag.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Keep your eye on the grand old flag.

The children had a Flag Day ceremony at their school. They all gathered around the flag pole and recited the Pledge of Allegiance while the custodian raised the flag. And then Harry's class got to lead off the singing of "You're A Grand Old Flag". Some of the Fifth graders played another patriotic song on their instruments, a student read about the history of the flag and they all sang "God Bless America" and then went inside to start their school day. Very nice. Very touching.

Flag photo from Freefoto.com

Literary Happy Hour

Via Kelly at Big A little a (who started Poetry Friday) I learned that PoetryFoundation.org has an article on Poetry Friday, written by an esteemed member of the Kidslitosphere, Susan Thomsen, who blogs at Chicken Spaghetti.

She calls Poetry Friday a "Literary Happy Hour without the drinks". Do you think we can do something about that no-drink thing? Hmmm.

The Poetry Friday round-up will be here this week, so pour yourself a nice glass of wine and get ready!

Personal Policies Meme

I've been tagged for another meme, this time by Esther at A Catholic Mom in Hawaii. Of course, I was tagged last week, and am just getting around to it now. This took me so long because I had to think about what personal policies I have. I know I must have some. But what are they? We'll find out together.

1) I need to start the day with a shower. When I can't (like when we were having the bathroom remodeled), it throws my whole day off.

2) I try not to say anything mean about anyone.

3) I tell my kids and my husband that I love them, every day.

4) I don't do chain letters. But apparently I do do memes.

I tag, Liz, HipWriterMama, and Sara.

Tuesday's Proverb

Be not afraid of sudden terror, of the ruin of the wicked when it comes; For the LORD will be your confidence, and will keep your foot from the snare. (Proverbs 3:25-26)

The Mom Detective

Sometimes being a mom feels like being a detective: who really hit the other one first? whose garbage is it that didn't get in the garbage can and on and on.

The trickiest one though, I think, is the "Is he sick, or does he just not want to go to school?"

Harry woke up this morning and told me that he was feeling sick. Too sick to get up. Too sick to even go into the bathroom.

Now - just a couple of hours before he'd been awakened by a bad dream, and other than that had been feeling fine - so this was slightly suspicious. Also, the G&T program that he attends Monday afternoons is done for the school year, so Monday's hold no great attraction now.

I played what I thought was my trump card. "If you don't go to school, you won't be able to play in your baseball game tonight."

No reaction. Hmm. Maybe he really is sick. I took his temperature. No fever. I made him go to the bathroom. He was out shortly and I found him sitting up in his room. "I just don't think I can go to school," he announced.

The thing is, to a certain extent you have to trust your kids when they tell you how they feel. After all, it's their body. But there are signs. And he just didn't look sick. But, maybe he was. Time to take a bit of a wait and see approach.

"I think I should eat something," he said.

"How about yogurt," I suggested.

He was good with that. (Can't be too sick, he wants to eat). He got dressed and came downstairs. He made a big deal of plopping himself in the middle of the living room before he made it into the kitchen.

But he did get into the kitchen and he ate his yogurt and two slices of toast.

He still said he was sick.

In the meantime he was joking around with his sister. Just didn't look sick to me.

Finally it was time to go and so I figured we'd start walking to school, and if he really couldn't do it, I'd be able to tell, and I'd send Pippi on alone and bring him back home.

We start out, he's dragging his feet (now this is the same boy who raced his sister up the stairs to brush his teeth). Finally I say to him. "If you are too sick to go to school, then there will be no playing outside, and it's a nice day, and no computer, and no TV. You'll just have to stay pretty much in your room. - When Pippi came home sick the other day she slept all afternoon. But, if you're not sick and you are going to school, you are going to be late and get a tardy slip if you don't pick up the pace."

Guess what. He picked up the pace. He went to school -- and I haven't heard from the school nurse yet (1:30) so I think we're good. I do think his stomach hurt a bit this morning, I don't think he was making that part up, but I don't think he needed a day of bed rest. Mainly I think that with nine days left of school, he's just plain tired of going for the school year. And I don't blame him - but the end is in sight.

Good Mood Monday

I started this Good Mood Monday thing, and I like the idea, and I feel like I should keep it up. That said, this is just a normal crazy Monday. I'm not in that particular of a good mood. Menu planning, grocery shopping, laundry, errands. Whoop-dee-do.

But....

Then I realized that I'm very lucky to be able to do the things I do:

Menu planning/Grocery shopping: I have options. I can chose what to feed my family for the week. I can get in my car and go to the super huge grocery store near me and get just about everything I want. And for the things that weren't on sale at that store, I can go to the other super huge grocery store near me and pick those up later in the week. Lots of things to be grateful for right there.

Laundry: I have a washer and a dryer. 'nuff said.

Errands: I needed to buy Pippi some sneakers. I can be grateful that she's growing and active and needs new things like this. I was also looking for Father's Day presents, both for my dad and my husband. I can be very happy that I have a wonderful dad and a wonderful husband (and a wonderful father-in-law, but I let my husband pick out his present.)

So, boring day so far - but now that I think about it - it's quite a good one. I hope yours is too.

The Feast of Corpus Christi

The body and blood of Christ.

We get used to hearing that. It isn't shocking to our sensibilities anymore.

But I remember when Harry was small - maybe three - and he picked up on part of the Eucharistic prayer where the priest says "take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of my blood." Harry looked at me in horror and loudly (please note the loudly) said "He wants us to drink his blood?!"

Yes. Yes he does. And maybe the whole fact should shock and astonish us just a little more than it usually does.

A Little Music Anyone?

We decided not to renew the rental for our daughter's clarinet - and we thought the buy-out price for a used clarinet was pretty high (used when she got it, not used because she's been using it - we're not that picky).

But, she still wants to take clarinet lessons, so we headed over to our local Sam Ash store and started looking at the clarinets. We didn't want to get a very expensive one, and so started out looking at their cheapest model, which was $200. That was okay, and the next one up was okay - but the one that she really liked was the same brand as her old one - and it was another price step up. So, now we weren't so cheap anymore. But it will be worth it in the long run, and they have a buy back program if she changes her mind about what instrument she likes and all that.

And since we were getting her something, it seemed only fair to get Harry something too - so we found him a book of easy guitar Beatles songs. Perfect.

Then they asked if we wanted to look at the clarinet music. So we picked out a book for Pippi too. I tried not to flinch when the total came to over $400.

But, then a bit of serendipity. A man came into the woodwind room with a guitar in a box. "Is that a free guitar?" someone asked him.

No, he was paying for it, he said.

However it turned out that Sam Ash was running a special and if you spent more than $400 you got a free guitar.

Hello! Now that total over $400 didn't seem so bad.

The cashier turned to me. "Do you want a free guitar?"

"Well, yeah."

They were out of the six-string models and only had 12-string models. So we got one. It's too big for Harry now, and we have no idea how to tune or play a 12-string model - but it will keep till Harry gets bigger. And these things can be figured out.

So home we went with a new instrument and music book for each of them - and tonight they even performed for us.

A good day.

Conversations with a Young Boy

Boy, throwing a ball up in the air in the living room.
Me: Don't throw the ball in the house.
Boy: I'm not throwing it, I'm tossing it.

Me: Throw out the rest of your hot dog if you don't want it.
Boy - from a distance of several feet away from the garbage can winds up to throw.
Me: No!
Boy: But you said to THROW it out.

Boy pushing his feet on back of driver's seat while I'm driving.
Me: Stop kicking the seat.
Boy: I'm not kicking the seat.
Me: Stop pushing on the seat with your feet.
Boy: I'm not pushing on the seat.
Me: Whatever it is you are doing with your feet. Stop it.

Does anyone else have conversations like this? Please tell me I'm not alone.

Today's Dinner Music

Multiplication Rock.

Yup. Guess who picked it?
That's right, Mr. Math - Harry.

Hey, I'm not complaining, there's a lot worse music the kids could be into.
And always remember - a figure 8 turned on its side is the symbol for infinity. Just a little tidbit I've been listening to this evening.

Poetry Friday

Happy Poetry Friday. I stumbled upon this poem today, and it just captures the essence of children reading and- at least my children - and myself as a child. And so I had to share.

Envoy for A Child's Garden of Verses
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Whether upon the garden seat
You lounge with your uplifted feet
Under the May's whole Heaven of blue;
Or whether on the sofa you,
No grown up person being by,
Do some soft corner occupy;
Take you this volume in your hands
And enter into other lands,
For lo! (as children feign) suppose
You, hunting in the garden rows,
Or in the lumbered attic, or
The cellar - a nail-studded door
And dark, descending stairway found
That led to kingdoms underground:
There standing, you should hear with ease
Strange birds a-singing, or the trees
Swing in big robber woods, or bells
On many fairy citadels:

For the rest of the poem go here.

HipWriterMama is hosting Poetry Friday today, so go see some great poems. The Round-up will be here next week. Hopefully I'll be able to figure out the Mr. Linky thing.


Just click on the button to head to the Poetry Friday round-up.

What Makes Someone Catholic?

Okay, time for some deep philosophical thinking here.

What with Mr. Giuliani having lightening strike when he tried to defend his pro-choice position and a book I've been reading where the author wonders why everyone can't just go get Communion when they want, I've been pondering the question above.

Technically I suppose a person is considered Catholic if they've received their various Sacraments of Initiation: Baptism, Communion, Confirmation. But there are those who receive those sacraments and never darken the door of a church again.

Is it believing in a certain set of things? Specifically the things in the Creed?

If you don't believe in God at all, or in the trinitarian God then I'd say you'd have a hard time calling yourself Catholic.

If you don't believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist you are denying one of the fundamental beliefs of the church. Can you deny that and still call yourself Catholic? People do.

But should they? Let's change the argument around a little. Let's say that you love New York City and have always wanted to be a New Yorker. But - you live in Des Moines.
You can call yourself a New Yorker if you want to. But, well - you're not one. Even if you live a lot closer - say Fort Lee, New Jersey and you can see New York from your bedroom window - you're still not a New Yorker. If you lived your whole life in New York and now live in Fort Lee and can see it from your window, you might still consider yourself a New Yorker, but one who's a little removed right now. But if they did a census, you wouldn't be counted as a New Yorker, because you're not there.

So - to be a Catholic you have to actually - well, be Catholic. And that means agreeing to the things that the Catholic church believes. And the Church believes and teaches that abortion is wrong.

I understand the dilemma that politicians face in this. They will be elected by people who are Catholic and non-Catholic. There are plenty of people who don't believe abortion is wrong, and these politicians don't want to alienate them. I understand that.

I also understand a knee-jerk reaction that "it's got to be the woman's choice" - on the surface that sounds good. But we certainly wouldn't say that if a woman kills her month old child, because it was basically a nuisance, that it was just her choice. So - why is it okay before the baby is born? The child is still the same at one month after birth as it is many months before birth - the same unique individual, just at a different stage of development.

And I also understand teens or any woman who finds herself faced with an unwanted pregnancy wishing to simply make it all go away. Just hit the rewind button. Hit delete. Life will go on as it did before. But it won't.

But, the Catholic church teaches that abortion is wrong always - and when you look at the reasoning, they, of course are right.

If you can't agree with that, perhaps you're just in your apartment across the river looking in.

And what about the other issue that came to my attention: That of any well-meaning person being allowed to receive Communion in a Catholic church.

On the surface it sounds good, doesn't it. It's all inclusive and friendly and open to all comers. That's good - right?

The Church is all-inclusive, friendly and open to all comers. Anyone who believes what the church teaches and wishes to receive the Sacraments can be a member of the church. But, it's kind of like saying in order to be a New Yorker you actually have to live in New York. Anyone is welcome to move to New York. They're not keeping anyone out. But, you can't be a New Yorker and live in Des Moines. (okay, now some transplanted New Yorker who lives in Des Moines is going to complain and say I'm still a New Yorker. - work with me here.)

The thing with Communion is that as Catholics we believe it is Christ. It is Him. Therefore we (or we at least should) treat the sacrament with the utmost reverence and respect. If a person only thinks its a nice little wafer that they're getting and simply participating in the ritual because they don't want to be left out - then that person is not showing the proper respect - it would be impossible without the underlying belief in the Real Presence.

But there are plenty of Catholics who go up to Communion every week and don't show any respect and don't really believe it's Him there. (I hear you say.)

That may be true. And they should probably not be doing that.

If someone truly believes, the Church would be more than willing to welcome that person into the fold. If you want to be a New Yorker, you have to move to New York.

And if a person doesn't really believe? If they have problems with the things they think the church teaches (first they should probably study what those things are because I think there's a lot of misunderstanding out there) maybe they're not really Catholic anymore. If you've moved across the river to New Jersey eventually you're going to have to declare yourself a New Jerseyan (Jerseyite? you know, I'm from New Jersey and neither of those sound right: we just say we're from New Jersey)

So, there are my rambling thoughts for today. I promise something much less deep in a future post.

Aunt Edna - A Tribute

I had a great-aunt whom I never met, since she died days after I was born. But from all accounts she was quite a wonderful woman.

When my great-grandmother died when my grandfather was only 10, his older sister, Edna, took over the job of mother. Even after she married and moved into her own home, she still took care of her brother. When, a few years after his wife's death, their father moved back to the Netherlands, my grandfather moved in with his sister, and she was the de facto parent.

Later, when my mother and siblings were growing up, Aunt Edna filled the role of much-loved grandmother. She would come stay with them when the parents went on trips. And everyone absolutely loved Aunt Edna. In fact, I've never heard anyone say anything bad about her at all - that's a pretty amazing tribute to a person!

Now, apparently when Aunt Edna did stay at her brother's house to watch the children for a few days, she liked to keep things tidy - perhaps a little tidier than the six children in the family cared about. She was always reminding people to hang up their coats etc. And - this is the part I try to emulate - whenever she walked through a room, she would straighten something up/put something away.

I try to do this in my own home. (Not always successfully.) But when I walk past the sofa and straighten the blanket on the back of it, before going on my way, I call it "Doing an Aunt Edna".
And when I do this, I think of this beloved aunt I never got to meet, and in this way she lives on in my memory.

I've been thinking about posting about this for awhile. And the thought popped back into my mind today. And when I realized the date, I knew I had to do it. Because what better tribute to a wonderful women who died 41 years ago today.

I'm sorry I never got to know you, Aunt Edna - Happy Birthday in Heaven.

PS- the picture is of Aunt Edna on Mt. Washburn in 1941, during a trip to Yellowstone, with my grandparents and her son to celebrate her son's high school graduation.

Danielle Bean Charity Raffle - First Annual

The indefatigable Danielle Bean is hosting a Charity Raffle to benefit the St. Gianna Maternity House in Warsaw, ND. Every five dollars donated will earn you one chance to win one of (currently) 45 great prizes. These prizes range from gift certificates to signed copies of books or year subscriptions to magazines.

It's a win-win. A great cause gets funds and you get the chance to win a fantastic prize.

A Very Thoughtful Boy

In school Harry has to answer "open-ended" questions about the story they are reading. They have to answer the question based on things in the story and then connect it to something in real life. This week the story was about a girl who made a "birthday basket" for her aunt.

Harry connected this to real life this way (this one's for you Kirsten):

If I ever gave a birthday basket to my aunt I would give her marbles, for being a great game player and a trombone cleaner for being a great musician.

Isn't he a thoughtful nephew.

Fields of Flowers

Okay, there aren't really fields of these flowers. Well, there are somewhere, but not at my house. But there are very attractive clumps.

These daisies are right by my front door. A lovely thing to open the door to on a sunny June morning.

These roses are near the corner of the house - far away from our backyard rose extravaganza. In fact the plant came up on it's own. (I suspect it's from the root stock of a rose we had there that didn't make it). We need to cut it back, because it is starting to invade our neighbor's driveway, but right now it's too full of beautiful blooms to mess with.

A Day at the Park

The other day I wrote about our excursion to the Deer Preserve and directed you to my brother's pictures. I hope you all went and looked at them. But now I've uploaded a few of my own.

This is the one fawn we saw that was close enough for me to get a good picture. Isn't it just the cutest thing?

Here is a doe, sitting patiently by the fence, waiting for my children to feed her more clover.

And here are said children, enjoying a little water exploration on a hot day.

And finally here is a picture of a really odd looking bird. Well, odd looking to me anyway. We're used to Canada Geese, Mallard Ducks, regular white geese (which we get to see now and then) but what is this thing? If anyone knows, please leave me a comment. It seems to be surrounded by regular Canada Geese goslings - and that's a Canada Goose in the water. There were two of this unusual looking bird. Any one out there who knows these kind of things?

Driving Pet Peeves - Part I

I'm labeling this part 1 because I feel fairly confident that I will have a part 2 and probably even a part 3.

Pet Peeve:
When people don't stop at stop signs.
Corollary: When people stop at stop signs, look, see that someone is coming, and go anyway.
Hint: It's not just, stop, look and go. It's stop. Look and see if the way is clear and then go.

Okay.

I feel better now.

Tuesday's Proverb

The LORD by wisdom founded the earth, established the heavens by understanding; By his knowledge the depths break open, and the clouds drop down dew. My son, let not these slip out of your sight: keep advice and counsel in view; So will they be life to your soul, and an adornment for your neck. Then you may securely go your way; your foot will never stumble; When you lie down, you need not be afraid, when you rest, your sleep will be sweet. (Proverbs 3:19-24)

Goals Goals Goals

And I don't mean like in soccer.

We all have goals, or should to some extent, even if it's just getting out of bed in the morning.

PJ Hoover over at Roots in Myth has outlined some of her writing goals. I especially like goal number 2: Write every night.

It sounds simple, no? Well, it also sounds simple to lose weight - just eat less and exercise more. And we all know how simple that is, don't we?

I should make the same goal for myself. I have been blogging more - I seem to recall making that a goal earlier in the year. But along with that was the goal of writing more on my fiction. And, although I go in fits and spurts with it, I can't say I've been following through enough.

There always seem to be so many other things to do - and for some reason the children expect to get fed every day. Go figure.

During the day when they're at school I could write. But that's also a great time to get some household chores done or run errands (so much easier to run errands alone). So, after they're in bed then, right? After all, they're seven and ten, how late can they possibly stay up. Late, I tell you, late. My son is nocturnal (he says it and I believe him). Sometimes it is after ten before they're both asleep - and then I want to be asleep too.

But no more excuses. I want to write, and write I will.

I have goals too.

1) Write nightly (stealing that one straight from PJ)
2) lose ten pounds (that's one of those eternal goals)
3) cook a gourmet meal every night (once in a while?)
4) Bring about world peace.

What's that you say? My goals are too extensive. Sigh. I suppose you're right. Maybe I'll just go with the world peace one.

No. Seriously. More writing from me. Now, I just have to stop blogging and get to it!

Some Random Linkage

All the really cool book people were apparently at BEA (Book Expo) in New York this weekend. Liz has a great post about it here.

MotherReader is offering up a really cool prize for her 48-hour Book Challenge (in a nutshell, how many books can you read and review in 48 hours). Since I don't review books on this site, I won't be participating, but I'm looking forward to a lot of really cool reviews coming up.

Alice of Cottage Blessings has a wonderful article in Catholic Exchange today.

And finally, Fr. V, over at Adam's Ale was in a great mood this Monday morning after taking his shower, head on over and read why you should be in a good mood too, if you took a shower today.

Good Mood Monday

Having lunch with my Mom. 'Nuff said.

Rainy Day Entertainment

We were going to go to the pool today. That was the plan. That was the promise to the kids. The town pool opened this weekend, and we'd be there.

Well, the cool weather finally blew into town. But the kids still wanted to go. It looked like it was going to rain - it wasn't that hot out, but I'd promised them. So right after lunch we headed to the pool, to see if we could get in a swim before the rain started.

But it was closed.

No, I didn't have my information wrong. They'd had a problem with their pool chemicals and the water wasn't balanced right. So - no swimming.

Back home. But the afternoon wasn't a total waste, because for my birthday I got the DVD of Into the Woods. Many years ago, when Into the Woods was new to Broadway, my parents gave me and my then boyfriend (now husband) tickets to see the show as a birthday present for me. I have the album (and I do mean album - you know, the vinyl kind that comes in a big square cardboard case) and have always loved the music for this show. My kids now listen to the music and Pippi especially loves it. So when I discovered, a few weeks ago, that it was filmed once (for PBS) and available on DVD, I knew what I had to ask for for my birthday.

We had a great time watching it this rainy afternoon. I can't always take to kids to see Broadway shows, or even other live theater - but it's so nice to have something like this to be able to show them (and to see myself). Live theater is always better of course - but when you can't do that it's great to be able to "go to the video tape" - okay - DVD, but "video tape" made a better quote.

Doe a Deer

Yesterday we took a little trip to a place my brother recommended: The Thompson Park Deer Preserve in Jamesburg, NJ.

Wow - what a place. Within the park there is a very large fenced area in which there are many deer enjoying their quiet life. And the deer have been having babies, because we saw at least half a dozen fawns. We also saw many does and bucks. At first just to see one deer was exciting, and as we continued to walk the perimeter of the area we would come across many deer. At one point, there were about a dozen deer relaxing in a sunny spot, near a creek, and also near the fence.

The children enjoyed feeding the deer clover that was growing on the outside of the fence. And the deer enjoyed eating it.

I didn't get too many great pictures because of the fence - but my brother has some awesome pictures from this preserve that can be seen here.

It was a pleasant way to spend the afternoon - and then we went to my parents and had a leisurely dinner, with my brother and sister-in-law.

A very nice day to spend the day.

Wisdom - and do we want it?

Today is the feast of the Trinity, and in his homily today, Father Jim discussed how the Holy Spirit manifests itself as Wisdom. And how a lot of us really don't want too much wisdom.

It's true, isn't it? There are plenty of things that we "know" we should or shouldn't do - but we do what feels good to us anyway.

Should exercise: would rather sit and read or watch TV or well, just sit.
Should eat healthier: would rather have that cookie.
Should do more volunteer work: would rather have the time to ourselves.

The wisdom is out there, and we know it's out there. We just aren't always willing to utilize it.

I'm sure everyone can think of examples where this is true in their own lives. But whether we exercise or not, or eat that extra cookie, doesn't have all that much to do with our spiritual life. I'm sure, however that there are plenty of spiritual examples most people could come up with.

I know for myself, I know I should pray more, read the bible more, maybe get to daily mass more. Somehow it's much easier to come up with excuses, than to do it.

But God does provide the wisdom to us. The Holy Spirit will guide us, will show us the right way, will offer infallible advice.

The questions is: Are we brave enough to ask for this advice - and the changes we might have to make to our lives should we choose to accept it?

The Numbers Keep Getting Bigger

Last year it was 40. That was cool. Nice round number. A good excuse for a party. Life begins at 40. And all that.

This year. 41.

It's just older. But, it beats the alternative.

Harry asked me yesterday if there was anyway I could avoid turning 41 today.

I told him only if I died.

"That's no good," he said thoughtfully. "Couldn't you just turn 10 or something?"

Interesting idea.

But the thing is I don't want to be 10 again. I've been 10. 10 was fine. I liked my life at 10. But I like my life now. Correction: I love my life now. I love my husband and my kids and the life I have. I wouldn't trade that again for a chance to still have my teen years in front of me.

I've done 10. Now I'm going to do 41.

So, I'm off the computer for the rest of the day, to celebrate my birthday with my family.

Class Trips

I went on the fourth-grade field trip today. Two school buses, 60 kids, a bunch of teachers and chaperones. The trip was to the New Jersey Agricultural Museum at Rutger's Cook College, where they had an exhibit on the Lenni Lenape Indians. The kids got to grind corn with rocks, try to throw sticks through hoops, and go inside a Wigwam. After lunch we wandered around the farm, where the children got to complain loudly about the smell of the pigs and cows. Overall, a good time was had by all.

Of course, it got me thinking back to my own fourth-grade class trip.

Class trips are a big deal when you are in elementary school. My first grade class went to a farm. In second grade our class went to The Old Barracks in Trenton, and the Trenton Museum where we saw the Indian exhibit (probably Lenni Lenape). At the time we lived in the Trenton area, so those things were local. In fact during the summers I would go to different "enrichment" camps for a week or so - and we went to The Old Barracks and the Trenton Museum (to see the Indian exhibit) then too. In third grade our class trip was a picnic. But our family was moving to another town that day and I didn't get to go.

So, fourth grade. New town, new house, new school. I hated everything about it (except for my new friends). (Mind you there was nothing to hate, we were in a nicer house on a nicer street and I was going to a pretty new school). But I wanted to be back "home". As the school year came to an end, I consoled myself that at least this year I wouldn't be going to The Old Barracks and the Trenton Museum (to see the Indian Exhibit) - because it was beginning to feel like the only class trip I ever was on. And that would be one positive thing about moving - I'd get to see something new.

The fateful day came when the teacher announced where we'd be going. "Now class," my teacher said (or something to that effect - it was a long time ago) "since we've been studying New Jersey this year, we have a special treat for you for our class trip. We are going to go to...."

Can you guess it? Of course you can. Say it with me now.

The Old Barracks, and the Trenton Museum (to see the Indian Exhibit).

I think I just put my head down on my desk in ultimate defeat.

It was kind of neat to be in my old stomping ground on the class trip - and I certainly was familiar with the place (I haven't been back since though, I don't think.)

This year the Fifth graders at our school went to the Old Barracks (maybe Pippi will go next year). I don't think the Indian Exhibit is still at the Trenton Museum - it is the only thing I ever saw at that museum.

In other years I did have more varied class trips - in fifth grade we went on an overnight to Washington DC (brave brave teachers, that's all I can say) and in middle school we took some trips to The City to see Broadway shows. But, to this day, when I think of "Class Trip" I automatically think "The Old Barracks and the Trenton Museum (to see the Indian Exhibit)"

PS: "to see the Indian Exhibit " was always tacked on to the end of the Trenton Museum - almost as if it were part of its name.

Poetry Friday

Another poem by our resident 4th-grade poet today.

Wind in the Garden
by Pippi

Swwissh! The wind,
It runs, giggling to the roses
He tickles them
being annoying,
to the impatiens
who yell at him.
He laughs and
flys to the
lilys of the valley.
"Out!" They shout
"We don't need you here!"
So he retreats, but
will come back again!

Poetry Friday round up at Adventures in Daily Living