When Jay was very young, he started to get freckles. I love his freckles. They run across the bridge of his nose and looking at them fills me with summer nostalgia. Sea & Ski being applied to shoulders, salt water taffy, and rented rafts. I told him they came from angel kisses. I would tell him this after his baths or before bed and try to count them. The number of freckles always changed.
When Collin came along and started to sprout up, I said this to Jay one night and realized Collin didn't really get freckles. I hoped he didn't feel unloved by the angels. But Collin had curls! So, I told Collin he must get his curls from the angels when Jay gets his freckles - and everyone was (and still is) happy. This is a subject that came up regularly before bed and nap time. I was mainly hoping my kids would sleep soundly after being reminded that God loves them enough to send them angels to look after them: Matthew 18:10 - "See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven."
Tonight, from another room, I overheard Collin talking to a friend of the family. She had just met him and told him how she loved his curls. Collin piped up and said, "I know. The angels gave them to me," rather matter of factly, not vain in any way. When she commented something to the effect of how she wished she had curls like that and wondered why the angels hadn't given her any, his response was, "Well, you have to take a nap." Good point.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Thanks for the Memories - Family Vacations
Jim and I are negociating a family trip this fall through the deep south with the boys and baby. It will be our first "BIG family vacation". You know the kind we all did as kids. The Brady Bunch kind. The get in the car and drive for hours, eat PB&J and Pop Tarts in the backseat, stop in cheap motels, and drag the kids through cemeteries & the 22nd president's birth place kind of vacation. Woo hoo!
My BFF was saying she never did this as a kid and didn't see why I was so adamant about doing this with our kids. How can I expain this? I started to tell her about all the great memories Jim and I each have of our family vacations with our parents. As I am telling her, I realize that the funniest and best memories are actually connected to huge mishaps - some of which probably brought our parents to the brink of disaster.
There was the time we got stuck in the middle of a field on the way to view Custer's Last Stand. Leaving us surrounded by bison and prairie grass, my dad headed off on foot to find a ranger's station. It had to have been miles and miles away. He was gone for what seemed like forever. In the days of no cell phone, my mother collapsed in tears during the wait, wondering what was to become of us if the plan failed.
There was the time I got bucked off a pony - way off - while riding in the Colorado mountains after days and days of rain - at the age of 5. Can you envision the law suit that would have followed by today's standards?
There was the burping contest my brother and I held as we lay on our sleeping bags in the very back of the station wagon with no seat belts on and playing cards while Dad drove West. "I can burp to the mountains! - UURRRPP!" "Oh yeah?! Well, I can burp to the mountains and BACK!! GRRRAAAAAAWWWWP!!"
There was the time my mother got hopelessly lost here in Florida trying to find Lion Country Safari. Tired and cranky, we returned to the Vero Beach hotel having still failed to find it. I can't even begin to imagine the chaos this would cause if I had to do this with my kids!
There was the time we watched as a man had to get taken off a mountain by paramedics due to the high altitude. I don't remember which mountain, but I remember the man droping like a stone near or in the cable car.
This is such a great lesson for me now to take with me on our future "BIG family vacations". These are the same things my kids are going to remember: the unexpected break down that cost a gazillion dollars to fix, the strange hotel that smelled like wet dog fur, Mom crying because... well that's what Mom does, and burping to the mountains and back.
My BFF was saying she never did this as a kid and didn't see why I was so adamant about doing this with our kids. How can I expain this? I started to tell her about all the great memories Jim and I each have of our family vacations with our parents. As I am telling her, I realize that the funniest and best memories are actually connected to huge mishaps - some of which probably brought our parents to the brink of disaster.
There was the time we got stuck in the middle of a field on the way to view Custer's Last Stand. Leaving us surrounded by bison and prairie grass, my dad headed off on foot to find a ranger's station. It had to have been miles and miles away. He was gone for what seemed like forever. In the days of no cell phone, my mother collapsed in tears during the wait, wondering what was to become of us if the plan failed.
There was the time I got bucked off a pony - way off - while riding in the Colorado mountains after days and days of rain - at the age of 5. Can you envision the law suit that would have followed by today's standards?
There was the burping contest my brother and I held as we lay on our sleeping bags in the very back of the station wagon with no seat belts on and playing cards while Dad drove West. "I can burp to the mountains! - UURRRPP!" "Oh yeah?! Well, I can burp to the mountains and BACK!! GRRRAAAAAAWWWWP!!"
There was the time my mother got hopelessly lost here in Florida trying to find Lion Country Safari. Tired and cranky, we returned to the Vero Beach hotel having still failed to find it. I can't even begin to imagine the chaos this would cause if I had to do this with my kids!
There was the time we watched as a man had to get taken off a mountain by paramedics due to the high altitude. I don't remember which mountain, but I remember the man droping like a stone near or in the cable car.
This is such a great lesson for me now to take with me on our future "BIG family vacations". These are the same things my kids are going to remember: the unexpected break down that cost a gazillion dollars to fix, the strange hotel that smelled like wet dog fur, Mom crying because... well that's what Mom does, and burping to the mountains and back.
Friday, June 6, 2008
And Then She Cried...
I think I should have named my blog that. It seems I am making a great impact on my children with all the times I cry. Yesterday, Jay reminded me that when he finally triumphantly managed to pull his first tooth, which he had been working at for weeks and I was beginning to be afraid Jim or I would have to pull it for him, I cried.
That's sort of my signature in life. If I speak before a group about something that is important to me, I cry. If I watch a moment happen with my kids that I know will disapppear forever after that, I cry. If I see a friend in great personal pain, I cry for them. If I hear a great song, choir or high school band, I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry!
After I had Collin I developed postpartum depression. It was a difficult time for the whole family but eventually I asked to be placed on antidepressants, which really helped for about a year. As time went on I could sense that my body alone was regaining its normal balance. Still being on meds, I was beginning to feel almost no fluctuation in a mood at all. It became impossible to cry. That was the last straw. There is no real sense of "me" without a good cry now and again. So, I weaned myself of the meds and I was so much happier - and sadder sometimes, but in a good way.
It was just interesting hearing Jay retell the story of his tooth that way and then tell me, "Yeah, you cry a lot." As parents, I think we wonder what they are going to remember. I can tell now, this is probably going to become a running joke about mom; but I don't mind at all. At least they know how much I care, and I know they love me for that.
That's sort of my signature in life. If I speak before a group about something that is important to me, I cry. If I watch a moment happen with my kids that I know will disapppear forever after that, I cry. If I see a friend in great personal pain, I cry for them. If I hear a great song, choir or high school band, I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry!
After I had Collin I developed postpartum depression. It was a difficult time for the whole family but eventually I asked to be placed on antidepressants, which really helped for about a year. As time went on I could sense that my body alone was regaining its normal balance. Still being on meds, I was beginning to feel almost no fluctuation in a mood at all. It became impossible to cry. That was the last straw. There is no real sense of "me" without a good cry now and again. So, I weaned myself of the meds and I was so much happier - and sadder sometimes, but in a good way.
It was just interesting hearing Jay retell the story of his tooth that way and then tell me, "Yeah, you cry a lot." As parents, I think we wonder what they are going to remember. I can tell now, this is probably going to become a running joke about mom; but I don't mind at all. At least they know how much I care, and I know they love me for that.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
When It Rains, It Pours...
We did the Florida homeschool conference this weekend. It was a BIG adventure! The boys were with Grandma and Grandpa and we took Miss Priss with us - camping. We found this great little city park in Orlando and got a RV camp site for $15. Sure beats Mickey Mouse prices! The park seemed absolutely beautiful: on a lake, well-shaded, pool, fishing, children's farm. It was really incredible. It seemed like our weekend was going to be a breeze - that is, until we read the weather report the day we headed up: storms - lots of them, all the time. Our best bet 80% chance of rain - and as we were on the highway heading up the iPhone was saying 100%! Yikes.
Our friends who were camping with us abandoned us. They called us on our cell. Wimps! We weren't backing down. We told them this even after passing through a really horrible patch of the storm that wanted to pick the truck up and toss it. The noise of the rain on the windows was deafening. "No thanks. We'll be fine. No, don't try to find us a room, too."
We set up camp Thursday night and actually did not have to deal with rain at all that night. The park was everything we had been hoping it would be and the staff was friendly - bonus! The facilities were OK (Our state parks sort of spoil us: they are very clean and most of them have relatively new facilities. These had been well-used, but they were clean.) Katey acted as the friendly neighborhood alarm clock at about 6:30 - chatting away with the dawn.
We made it through our sessions Friday, went to dinner and got back to camp minutes before the light shower started. I had to use the bathroom, but I just said I'd wait for it to blow over. It didn't. It POURED!! It poured and poured and poured. Jim was so great. He carefully watched the tent and monitored any possible leaks. We had one, but we couldn't quite figure out if it was coming up from below or if it was being blown in sideways under the rain fly. After about 15 minutes of rain, I was fast asleep. I just love the sound of a good rain and it put me right out. Katey, too. Jim didn't sleep so well, but I woke up well-rested. I think that's the first time in our history that I was able to sleep better than him!! It had stopped raining by morning and I bumped into a few other homeschoolers in the bathroom. Some of them had already packed up to head out and home that night. We had paid for that night just so we could take our time breaking camp. We would come back that evening and pack up to go home.
It poured while we were at the conference - just thundered away! By the time we were done, it had once again stopped. We went back to camp, threw our soaking wet tent in a big, black bag and took off toward home. We'd have to put it up to dry out at home.
All in all, we had the best possible scenario. We didn't have to set up or break down in the rain. WOO HOO!! We didn't have any leaks that soaked our stuff or caused damage. WOO HOO!! I got a great night's sleep. WOO HOO!! We saved at least $100. WOO HOO!! We found a great park that is a must-do-over for our whole family someday. WOO HOO!! Jim feels tough and I feel outdoor mom-ish. WOO HOO!!
Here's a link to information on the park:
http://www.theotherorlando.com/contents/chapters/16/turkey.html
Our friends who were camping with us abandoned us. They called us on our cell. Wimps! We weren't backing down. We told them this even after passing through a really horrible patch of the storm that wanted to pick the truck up and toss it. The noise of the rain on the windows was deafening. "No thanks. We'll be fine. No, don't try to find us a room, too."
We set up camp Thursday night and actually did not have to deal with rain at all that night. The park was everything we had been hoping it would be and the staff was friendly - bonus! The facilities were OK (Our state parks sort of spoil us: they are very clean and most of them have relatively new facilities. These had been well-used, but they were clean.) Katey acted as the friendly neighborhood alarm clock at about 6:30 - chatting away with the dawn.
We made it through our sessions Friday, went to dinner and got back to camp minutes before the light shower started. I had to use the bathroom, but I just said I'd wait for it to blow over. It didn't. It POURED!! It poured and poured and poured. Jim was so great. He carefully watched the tent and monitored any possible leaks. We had one, but we couldn't quite figure out if it was coming up from below or if it was being blown in sideways under the rain fly. After about 15 minutes of rain, I was fast asleep. I just love the sound of a good rain and it put me right out. Katey, too. Jim didn't sleep so well, but I woke up well-rested. I think that's the first time in our history that I was able to sleep better than him!! It had stopped raining by morning and I bumped into a few other homeschoolers in the bathroom. Some of them had already packed up to head out and home that night. We had paid for that night just so we could take our time breaking camp. We would come back that evening and pack up to go home.
It poured while we were at the conference - just thundered away! By the time we were done, it had once again stopped. We went back to camp, threw our soaking wet tent in a big, black bag and took off toward home. We'd have to put it up to dry out at home.
All in all, we had the best possible scenario. We didn't have to set up or break down in the rain. WOO HOO!! We didn't have any leaks that soaked our stuff or caused damage. WOO HOO!! I got a great night's sleep. WOO HOO!! We saved at least $100. WOO HOO!! We found a great park that is a must-do-over for our whole family someday. WOO HOO!! Jim feels tough and I feel outdoor mom-ish. WOO HOO!!
Here's a link to information on the park:
http://www.theotherorlando.com/contents/chapters/16/turkey.html
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The Lion's Roar
We went camping this past weekend with the Cub Scouts, again. It was to be our last campout of the year. It was just our pack and we stayed at the KOA near Lion Country Safari. I have read about this campground as being one of the very best in Florida - because you can hear the lions roar. I thought it would be like seeing a falling star - how you have to have your eyes in just the right place at just the right time to see them. It's not like that at all. The lions started to roar between 4 and 5am on Saturday morning and they continued to roar periodically until about 8am. It was really something to listen to! I was quite taken with it. It was so odd sitting with the scouts, drinking my hot camp stove coffee and listening to lions roar nearby.
We visited the park and did the safari that day and ran our pinewood derby races that afternoon. That night, shortly before 10pm, the chimps went off on each other for a while. And Sunday morning, there were the lions again, heralding the new day.
This is definitely a must-do-over camping trip for me. Where else could one hear that kind of noise safely? I've heard the National Zoo can be noisy for its neighbors, but there's no campground.
We visited the park and did the safari that day and ran our pinewood derby races that afternoon. That night, shortly before 10pm, the chimps went off on each other for a while. And Sunday morning, there were the lions again, heralding the new day.
This is definitely a must-do-over camping trip for me. Where else could one hear that kind of noise safely? I've heard the National Zoo can be noisy for its neighbors, but there's no campground.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Roger Dean Stadium
We went to a minor league game tonight with a group from the cub scouts. We watched the Jupiter Hammerheads (feed into the Marlins) vs. the Vero Beach Devil Rays (feed into Tampa). I have never really loved baseball. As a matter of fact, I despised the sound of it on TV as a child and even the games I attended in person couldn't hold my attention - but I only recall seeing games in Dolphin Stadium, which is definitely not built for baseball.
I've started to soften a bit toward the game, though, now that the kids are old enough to play; and tonight was a perfect night. The weather was incredible - overcast, dark gray, and possibly rainy to the south - which gave the grass that really intense, green look. The stadium is modern and yet intimate, and the boys, wearing their class A uniforms, scurried quickly into seats behind the dugout along the third baseline. We sat and ate Cracker Jacks and rooted for the home team and the kids that PR pulled from the stands to play the goofy games between innings.
The crack of the bat on the ball sounded so close it made the game exciting. And when a bat broke (and at least 3 bats did), the air just sizzled with the noise - the way lightning does. The boys looked cute sitting with their gloves on in anticipation of foul balls heading their way. Several balls popped up into the stands, pinging around on the aluminum bleachers before being snagged by a child racing to beat out the others nearby. Some flew right over us, past the structure and out onto the street in front of the stadium. (I was really glad we hadn't parked there!) The players could hear us cheer, and we knew that because we could hear what people had to say all the way over by the first baseline. It made me conscious of my words.
After the game, the boys boogied over to the side of the field by the dugout and waited patiently for the players to notice them, and I tagged along to keep a watchful eye. There were some other young moms with their small children with us, who turned out to be the players' wives and families coming down to greet them and kiss them. One of them had a baby only 23 days old. Soooooo cute! Can you imagine the adventure they're living? Waiting to get called up to the majors? Anyway, the boys were really pleased, the players were great and gave them several signatures.
It was all remarkably Norman Rockwell. The smaller venue makes all the difference in the world to me. No wonder this country loved baseball the way it did when my dad was growing up. He still loves baseball. And if all games were like this one, I would be completely hooked as well.
I've started to soften a bit toward the game, though, now that the kids are old enough to play; and tonight was a perfect night. The weather was incredible - overcast, dark gray, and possibly rainy to the south - which gave the grass that really intense, green look. The stadium is modern and yet intimate, and the boys, wearing their class A uniforms, scurried quickly into seats behind the dugout along the third baseline. We sat and ate Cracker Jacks and rooted for the home team and the kids that PR pulled from the stands to play the goofy games between innings.
The crack of the bat on the ball sounded so close it made the game exciting. And when a bat broke (and at least 3 bats did), the air just sizzled with the noise - the way lightning does. The boys looked cute sitting with their gloves on in anticipation of foul balls heading their way. Several balls popped up into the stands, pinging around on the aluminum bleachers before being snagged by a child racing to beat out the others nearby. Some flew right over us, past the structure and out onto the street in front of the stadium. (I was really glad we hadn't parked there!) The players could hear us cheer, and we knew that because we could hear what people had to say all the way over by the first baseline. It made me conscious of my words.
After the game, the boys boogied over to the side of the field by the dugout and waited patiently for the players to notice them, and I tagged along to keep a watchful eye. There were some other young moms with their small children with us, who turned out to be the players' wives and families coming down to greet them and kiss them. One of them had a baby only 23 days old. Soooooo cute! Can you imagine the adventure they're living? Waiting to get called up to the majors? Anyway, the boys were really pleased, the players were great and gave them several signatures.
It was all remarkably Norman Rockwell. The smaller venue makes all the difference in the world to me. No wonder this country loved baseball the way it did when my dad was growing up. He still loves baseball. And if all games were like this one, I would be completely hooked as well.
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