Question of the Day

So, the other day, Little Munchkin (aka Bethany) asked, "Mommy, do you love Satan?"
Of course I answered no. Then she said, "Mommy, doesn't the Bible tells us to love our enemies?"
"Yes, that's right," I replied. I knew where this was heading.
"Well, doesn't that mean we have to love Satan because he's our enemy?"
Hmm, that was a tough one for me. I explained that the "love your enemies" command concerned our earthly enemies and that Satan was our spiritual enemy. My answer sounded shallow, but it was all that came to mind. I told her to ask her daddy and that he could probably give her a better answer.

Bethany, she's a thinker that one.

If I Don't Write This Stuff Down, I'll Surely Forget

Me: Bethany, stop aggravating your sister.
Bethany: I'm just doin' my job, my jobby job, job.

Hahaha!

Little Munchkin just asked me if she could eat a Santa shaped gummy candy, apparently left over from Christmas. I told her she could. She thanked me enthusiastically and scampered off. Seconds later, I heard her gleefully proclaim to her sister, "Santa's gonna have a party in my tummy!"

Indeed.

Writer's Block--I Has It; Lots of Time--I Has it Not

Dad, you asked me if I'd given up blogging because I hadn't posted in a while. Well, not exactly, but here are my thoughts lately on that subject:

Not being able to sit down daily and dash off witty, thought-provoking blog posts without a lot of effort is a great source of frustration for me. To be honest, I read very few mommy blogs who post daily that accomplish that feat so I console myself with the fact that it must be a rare mommy blogger who can actually accomplish daily posting with style. I say mommy blogger specifically because I'm not concerned with comparing myself to those who professionally blog or make their living blogging or writing daily in some other venue.

I've come to the conclusion that I couldn't be a professional writer, at least not at this point in my life, because writing, for me, takes an enormous amount of effort and brain power. That last statement makes me sound like a dunce which I don't think I am, but neither am I a genius. The problem is that everybody and their brother/sister/mother seems to think they can write and have something worthwhile to relate. I fear falling into that category--coming across as if what I'm writing is so interesting that it needs to be published on a blog, but in reality it is only mediocre at best. I fear mediocrity; therefore, I don't often post because when I actually sit down to post something, the spark of genius that my thought seemed to be in my head, somehow dies when I try to capture it in words. That's one reason very few people know about this blog of mine. Plus, blogging takes time. To post even mediocrity on a daily basis takes time. I'm only taking time now because I'm too sick to do anything but sit here and think about all the posts I haven't had the time to write, but probably wouldn't even if I did have time because apparently I'm paralyzed by my fear of mediocrity. Sounds like I have some issues with perfectionist tendencies and/or pride.

I suppose if I were more disciplined I could get up earlier and have the quiet, morning hours before my family awoke to ponder my deep thoughts and write blog posts. Of course, I don't think all posts should be deep, but I'm just not very good at being funny although I'm pretty good at being shallow. In a former blog of mine I tried to post daily. I will say that doing so seemed to keep my writing sharper, at least in my own estimation of it, but it kept me up very late and other aspects of my life suffered. When something like blogging, or any hobby for that matter, interfers with keeping up with my housework or interacting with my family then it takes too much time. Yet, I feel taking time to express oneself creatively whether via blogging, scrapbooking, photography, journaling, etc., etc., is an important part of feeding one's creativity--you know, hyacinths for the soul and all that. And, therein lies the sticking point. Any creative endeavor worth doing is worth doing well. We are created in the image of a creative God. Yet, to do something well takes time, sometimes a lot of time. Balance is the key, of course. Balance is something I'm not good at achieving. But I also think balancing one's priorities also means knowing what is most important right now. Right now, writing daily on my blog isn't a high priority. Ideas for blog posts seem to be crowded out by ideas for homeschooling or ideas for our next read-aloud. I'm not going to look back in twenty years and wish I'd blogged more. I will regret any time taken away from my priorities right now--my family. Balance for me means putting aside some of my creative projects so that I can focus on my ultimate creative projects--my kids. Yet, that doesn't have to mean neglecting the feeding of one's soul. I still read. In fact, I probably read more now than I have in a long time. I crochet which I enjoy a lot except when I'm inundated by request to make tons of little crocheted octopi as I have been lately.

Maybe one of these days I'll achieve enough balance to be able to blog daily, read daily, read aloud daily to my kids, perfect my cooking skills, write poetry, read poetry, homeschool, exercise, keep up with the housework, and everything else I would like to accomplish in my lifetime.

Music to my Ears

Last night it rained. Earlier today Little Munchkin and Doodlebug were standing at the front door looking outside at the dreary, overcast, foggish day. Doodlebug asked why the sky looked like it did. I said it was because it was overcast and might rain again. Little Munchkin looked at her sister and said, "Remember? Remember when the sky cried last night?"

Oh, my heart! What a lovely, poignant word picture my baby painted with such a few words. Maybe I'll grow a poet yet!

Ordinary Childhood

As I get up from the dinner table, I impulsively plant a kiss on my younger dauther's forehead, something I do frequently. As she happily munches on her dessert, a cinnamon streusel muffin, while I'm gathering the plates and utensils, I am struck by a plethora of thoughts. Funny something so ordinary and uninteresting should prompt such thoughts. Perhaps it is the very ordinariness of the moment that impressed me. Here sits my younger child, happy and content with enough food to eat, a warm comfortable house to live in, her own room, more toys than she needs, two parents who love her unconditionally, and lots of friends and family who also love her. Her life is ordinary, uneventful, happy. Not every child is so blessed, sadly. I try to tell my children this so that they will be appreciative of what they have, yet words are woefully inadequate. I continue clearing the table as Little Munchkin finishes her muffin then skips off to get ready for bed. Happy. She is happy. My children are happy. They are loved and cared for. They are warm and well-fed. And, I am grateful, so very grateful that I can provide a secure environment for them. I tell them frequently that I am so glad God gave them to me. I want them to always be sure of my love, to feel secure. I pray that one day they may realize how absolutely blessed they are now.

Little Munchkinisms

Little Munchkin got out of the shower last night and, spying her pajamas laying beside the sink all ready for her to hop into, exclaimed enthusiastically, "Oh! You've got my night-night jams ready for me. THANKS!"

"Night-night jams"--hadn't heard that one before, but I LOVE it.

A Birthday Post

It's been two weeks since I've blogged. I guess that's what joining Facebook will do one's initiative to write. At first I thought the whole Facebook thing was a time waster; however, I've found a few people that I've not had contact with for a while such as college friends and people we knew from when we lived in Savannah.

So yesterday was Doodlebug's birthday. My baby is ten years old! And I'm feeling it. I feel old.

I wanted to give Doodlebug something special for her tenth birthday like a special necklace or charm bracelet, but I never found time to go by myself to get something like that. We did have a big cookout this past Saturday with church friends and Doodle invited a few of her special friends, too. She had fun and received many nice things including three gift cards which she loved.

I had planned to wait until after her birthday party to shop for her so I wouldn't duplicate anything. But she really wanted to open gifts from us at her party so everyone could see what all she got from us. I figured I'd get her a few little things for her party then give her something more special for her actual birthday. But it just didn't work out that way. We probably spent more on the cookout than we did for her birthday at Monkey Joe's last year. The present we gave her she loved. One of the things I gave her was a pink file box full of office supplies. It seems a strange gift perhaps, but I knew she'd love it. I spent a bit more than I thought I would putting it together, but Little Munchkin and I had fun doing it. Since Doodlebug has been pretending to run a jewelry shop from her bedroom, I thought a few official looking supplies would add to her fun.

And, of course, the Poppa came over for Doodlebug's actual birthday, yesterday and took her out to a Japanese steakhouse. Her choice. He also gave her money which she promptly spent. Despite my feeling of letdown at not commemorating her birthday with a special present, Doodlebug seemed quite content with the events surrounding her tenth birthday. That's what really matters, I suppose.

Why is it when I want to write about something it comes out sounding bland. Like this post. Ho hum. My baby is ten, dang it! Why couldn't I make a post about it more interesting?!

A neighbor was telling me recently that she is going back to college to finish her degree in communications. She said she's really good at it, and she's glad that after thirty-eight years she's finally found something she's really good at. Now why can't I be that confident. I haven't actually seen anything this neighbor has written so I'm not sure if she is as good as she says she is or not.

I had more to say, but it'll have to wait.

Let Nature be Your Teacher

Another lovely, breezy, ordinary day. I intended to get up early to go pick blueberries yet again, but that so didn't happen. Staying up until 1:30 in the morning will do that to my early rising plans.

But, my handy hubby was up and at 'em early as usual. Today he built me a very nice and sturdy clothesline. (I should post a picture, but first I really should learn to upload pictures to the computer. One day, one day.)

Since he needed to wait for the cement to set around the clothesline posts, my husband volunteered to go with me and the girls to pick blueberries. So we loaded up and headed out to our friends' u-pick blueberry farm and picked about a gallon of blueberries. I've put up in the freezer the blueberries from our previous berry picking expeditions, but I needed some fresh ones for a recipe I wanted to try. It's a gelatin mold with fruit in it. I've never made one before, but I want to try this recipe because it doesn't look too difficult. It calls for strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries. We'll have to do without raspberries because they cost a stinkin' fortune at the grocery store, and we don't know anyone with a u-pick raspberry farm.

After picking blueberries, we made a stop at a cabin some friends of ours are remodeling. It's located in the woods overlooking a creek filled with lots of flat rocks and trickling water falls. It's a lovely, peaceful place and the girls went prepared to get wet. The cool water felt refreshing on our hot, dirty feet. Doodlebug and Little Munchkin loved it there. They were not ready to leave. I understood. There was something calming and centering about sitting there on the rocks, my feet in the water, watching my girls enjoying nature. I wasn't ready to leave either.

Knowing we would stop by, I brought my camera, but left it in the car. Though I could have easily retrieved it, I decided that this was one of those times that I wanted to be in the moment so I left the camera where it was. Instead, I took a mental snapshot of my two children as they climbed rocks, waded in the cool, muddy water, discovered raccoon tracks and sat by a little pool of tadpoles watching them swim about. I watched and listened and tried to answer their questions: "Are there bears around here?" "Do tadpoles turn into fish, too?" "Can a snake swim on the bottom of the water?" "Is there anything in the water that might hurt us?" "Will the little fish nibble my toes? Will it hurt?"

It makes me sad to think that there are many children who don't get the opportunity to really enjoy nature like we did today. We do not have rocky creek beds in our back yard to explore every day, but we are privileged to live in a lovely, woodsy, natural setting. Nature is all around us, and I encourage my kids to get out in it as much as possible. After reading Last Child in the Woods and For the Children's Sake, I am more convinced than before that it is critical for children to have opportunities to be outdoors. I believe it's possible, too, even for those who live in the middle of town though it may take a bit more effort to make it possible. I know because we used to live in an apartment in the city. For me, just being outside on a beautiful day is invigorating even if the terrain is characterized mostly by cement sidewalks and asphalt roads; but being outside on a beautiful day is positively exhilarating if I'm smack dab in the middle of nature, too.

Today was one of those days.

Where Has all my Summer Gone

As we approach the middle of July, I find myself already anticipating the upcoming school year. I tend to over plan my planning and in the process get not much done. It's a curse of mine.

Also, Doodlebug's birthday is the very last day of this month, and she is fully expecting a party with all of her little friends though I've tried to stem the tide of her rising expectations by telling her that I have not, in fact, agreed to any type of party as of yet.

I'm not sure why, but I tend to resist anything that involves me supervising more than my own two children. Play dates with a friend I can handle from time to time, but I'm not crazy about bunches of kids running in and out of my house noisily and chaotically. And even when they aren't noisy and chaotic, there is still added stress mainly because MY own two kids are constantly asking me if they and their friend can do this or that. "Just go play!" I want to scream, but I don't. Anyway, I guess I'm much too uptight to handle more than a few kids at a time. I'm genetically predisposed. Thanks, Dad.

Doodlebug's birthday being the last day of July, usually signals the beginning of the end of summer for me because school resumes a couple of weeks after that. As a homeschooler, of course, I can start whenever, but since Doodlebug is taking math at school first hour this school year (as she did the second half of last year), I'll have to start when everyone else does. But it's good. I need a set goal to work towards. It just means that my summer is quickly coming to and end.

I turned 38 this summer (well, technically late spring), and I'm finding that the older I get the more my life does feel like a vapor. (James 4:14)

I'm Not Biased at All

Me: Little Munchkin, I thought I told you to put your church clothes on.

LM: I will. I just got 'stracted by Doodlebug.

"Stracted." I love it! Just like I love it when she says "puglic" as in "Is that a puglic bathroom?" My kids are SO darn funny and cute, I think I'll go eat 'em up right now.

Abundance

Ah! Our first garden harvest from our first real garden. The girls were so excited that they even ate the cabbage I cooked for supper. Well, Doodlebug did anyway. Here is a pic of Little Munchkin (on the left) and Doodlebug (on the right, of course) holding their haul from our garden which actually was several weeks ago now:

No tomatoes at the time the above photo was taken, but just a couple of weeks later we had these:

And the flowers were the result of some wildflower seeds I let the girls scatter wildly in a little patch of dirt near the garden. Just looking at the picture of those lovely red globes of tastiness beside a vase of simple wildflowers makes me feel all cozy and homey and thankful.

Just look at those beautiful blueberries! I wish I had a better camera so I could zoom in and get a close up of those toothsome blue gems. We don't have blueberry bushes but we do have friends with a blueberry farm. The blueberries were plump and delicious and practically falling off the bushes. They are frozen now. In my freezer frozen. We didn't have some freak anomaly in local weather patterns in case you're wondering.

I'm a city girl at heart, but there is something to be said for country living especially with children. It is just so compatible with all that is, or should be, magical about childhood.