Cat and Bird

Saturday was a beautiful sunny day in my community and it found my family outside in the front yard chatting with other neighbors.  I somehow talked the neighbor boys into cleaning out the back of my van because it would be "fun" and while I supervised their work, Max the Cat came into view.

 He was sauntering up the sidewalk toward the house.  He held his head  high with his tail lifted and curled dramatically behind him.  "Awe, isn't that cute", I thought.  And then the neighbor said it.  "Look, who's bringing you a present."  I looked around for the UPS truck and then realized the neighbor meant Max.

In Max's mouth was something black.  A bird - "Yuck!", I thought and then I quickly realized Max had veered toward the open garage with a dead bird.  I ran to the garage and quickly closed the door thwarting Max and sending him to the bushes with his kill.  Max moved out of sight while the children surrounding me talked about the what was in Max's mouth.  Suddenly a ruckus erupted from the bushes.  A loud chirp sounded followed by the bushes shaking and then a small black and brown bird burst through the foliage and up into the sky. It wobbled a little getting its bearings and then zoomed off far from Max's greedy claws.

 Immediately the meowing started.  The most disgruntled cat I have ever seen emerged haughtily from the bushes meowing the entire time.  Max sat in the middle of the driveway grumping about the bird for nearly 5 minutes straight.  Then he harrumphed off to repair his bruised ego and to hold on to whatever cat dignity was left for poor Max to cling to.

Kudos to the bird for doing a masterful job at faking its own death.  And to Max - You win some and you lose some. 

The Cat Introduction

Last January we bought Aaron a cat for his birthday.  This shows the great love I have for my middle child because I do not love cats.  Yes,  those of you from my childhood past might remember the obsessive cat loving I did before middle school.  What can I say... I was a child but as an adult I put away childish things and that included cat love. 

So when we brought this new cat, now affectionately named Max, Maximillian, Maxipus, or just Cat, home I had rules.  No cat in the house, litter box cleaned each week and I was to have nothing to do with Max cuz I didn't like him. (period!)

Max has been with us for almost a year now and I can honestly say I have never met a cat like Max.  He purrs with gusto  immediately upon being picked up.  In eight months, he has never scratched one of my children.  In fact, as soon as a any child grabs him up he goes limp as if it is his duty to allow the squeezing and rumpled fur that is sure to come.

Max also wheedled his way into the house with his constant purring.  First the official reason was so Aaron could hold him during homework and then we realized we were buying cat food for every stray cat in a mile radius.  During the school year, Max got used to us leaving the house everyday.  It became routine to give him a goodbye pat on the way to school each morning as he sat on the porch purring his goodbye right back at us.  Summer brought a new routine and suddenly each morning Max began meowing at the front door until it opened.   He then saunters in, checks on the family, perhaps eats a little (since we moved the food indoors)  then goes to the garage door, meows again and is let into the garage to do what ever a cat needs to do in a garage.

In fact, that last paragraph I was writing  just got  interrupted by meowing at the front door and yes I obediently got up and let the cat into the house.

Now the cat routinely plays with the dogs and catches birds and mice leaving them in the front yard for us to find.  We call for Maxipus every time we go outside and I actually miss seeing Cat if he isn't around for awhile.

Today, I find myself using endearments to talk to Max and cuddling him just to hear his loud purr.  If he isn't around in the morning I worry about him.

Shockingly and with much torture to actually write this sentence...I have discovered.... I love Max.

  

Everyone likes to fish.  Everyone but me that is.  I pretty much hate everything that goes along with fishing.  Hooks are sharp, fish are slimy, and worms are wiggly.  In fact, worms are the worst part of fishing.  But I attend fishing trips to be with the family.  With familial togetherness in mind, I attended an evening of fishing one night last summer.  I brought our camp chairs and a picnic blanket to keep my feet safely away from bugs since I knew I would be nowhere near the dock and therefore surrounded by grass- which of course is where all the bugs live.  I invisioned a quiet sunset, laughing children  and my husband baiting every hook and throwing every little fish that was caught back.  When we got there I set myself up several feet off from the dock and made myself comfortable by taking  off my sandals.   I stretched my legs and settled my back into the chair.  Let the relaxation begin.

As the fishing got into full swing my 6 year old, Sarah, decided it would be much better to fish near me.  So with pole, worm and hook, she came to sit beside me  My relaxing evening quickly turned into a fearful one as I wondered how the local emergency room would treat a person with a hook in their eye. 

My girl is not patient when it comes to fishing.  Throw the line in and reel it back immediately.  Over and over again this happened and increased with intensity as she saw that her more patient brothers and cousins were catching fish left and right. To add insult to injury, her worm was suddenly gone off its hook, so she just knew that a fish was in that water taunting her.  Frustration and whining ensued and finally I got her to move back to the dock where her father was baiting hooks.  

My peace was short lived, however, because soon it was too dark to fish and everyone packed it in.  In the semidarkness, I stood and slipped my foot into my sandal where I felt a decided slimy squish of something under my big toe.  My body and mind froze as I tried to work out what in the world could have created that icky feeling.  And then I knew as certainly as I have ever known anything that my big toe had just smooshed the worm that Sarah had lost from her hook just a half hour before.

My stomach rolled and I jumped from the blanket to wipe my toe on the grass.  Chills moved up and down my arms and legs and I knew that my toe would never be clean again. 

These events happened last July, but now in Oct.  as I finally get a chance to sit down and write about it my stomach is again feeling like I might not make it through the last paragraph of this post. 

Needless to say,  I will still go on fishing trips but never again will I take my sandals off!

 

Daniel, The Lion's Den and Me - A Spiritual Birth at VBS

Vacation Bible school starts this coming Monday and I am very excited.  I love the energy, the fun and the learning that goes on during VBS.  Not to mention that my church uses a really great curriculum provided by LifeWay Christian Resources that is very easy to do. 

But probably the biggest reason that VBS is in my heart is that many years ago when I was about 8 and living in Columbia, MO.  I went to VBS and trusted Christ as my personal savior for the very first time and because God saves by His Grace - the only time that was necessary. 

We had just learned about Daniel and the Lion's Den.  I remember listening to the story and being amazed that God could protect Daniel from such danger and literally close the lions mouths all night.  How trusting Daniel must have been in his heavenly protector.  My 8 year old brain was mulling these things over when we went to worship at the end of the morning.  The pastor spoke to us and questioned us on where we stood on believing that Jesus was the Son of God and came to save us from our human nature of sin.  Did we believe that he could protect us and care for us.  Daniel and the Lion's Den broke into my thoughts.  Did I have the faith of Daniel?

It was at that moment that I felt the tug.  The almost physical pull in my chest that I needed to walk up to the front and tell the pastor that I wanted Jesus as my savior.  But I didn't go.  Walking up to the front of a church with so many people looking at me and wondering about me was more than I could bear.  So I stayed stuck in my seat and I squelched the pull that I should be moving deep down inside of me.  I decidedly ignored what I knew I should be doing and I stayed in my seat until worship was over and my mom picked me up.

But God doesn't quit and the Holy Spirit will not give up on a good work.  So, the tug came back at a red light on the way home from VBS.  It became restlessness and physical uncomfortableness.  I could not ignore God.  In the back seat of my parents beat up chevy chevelle (brown interior) I bowed my head and submitted.  I prayed that God would forgive me of all the things I had done and I thanked him for sending Jesus as the way to Him. 

Peace, Elation, Freedom immediately followed.  It was like nothing I have ever felt before and I am sure I will never feel again. My grin spread across my face and stayed plastered there for several days.  I was joyous.  I felt God's presence so clearly.  When I doubt my faith, as occasionally happens to all who believe I remember this time of  great even elation.  I remember my thoughts changing and my conscience changing. 

This didn't make ME a great person and I am still not a great person.  But it made me a forgiven person.  A person who began to see through eyes like Jesus's.  Am I perfect, Ha!  I will never be and I am ashamed of some things I have done and probably will do, but I am always forgiven and taken care of.  I believe one only has to read other entries in this blog to see how God has taken care of me and my family. 

SHOT - Another ESL Moment

Isaac has the dreaded Dr. appointment this morning.  He must get shots in order to be admitted to 7th grade. 
Yesterday we began going over our Monday schedule and I stated that we have a Dr. appt.  Sarah, of course, wanted to know why and all the details so that she could remain in "control" of the situation.

This morning she asked again what we were doing today.  And again, I told her. 

"Sarah,  Isaac is going to the Doctor and getting shots."
Sarah replied in a very sad voice,  "ooohhh I'm going to miss him."

Of course, when I laughed  she got mad at me.  Oh well.

And the Customer is King

It seems to me that with the onset of  the latest generation coming of age and now taking jobs in fast food places and walmart, that customer service is lacking in many places.  Of course not all of the new generation is inept at conveying that the customer is king, but there are quite a few mumblers, eye avoiders, and lazy workers that will answer a question with "I don't know" and "I'm sorry that's not my job" and then look at you like those answers should have been sufficient.Usually, I ignore these little jibes at customer relations on the premise of being polite, but not last Wednesday. 

Last Wednesday, I am sure I completely embarrassed and somewhat awed my nine year old  the same way that my own dad used to embarrass and awe me.  My dad, usually a gentle soul, would become fiesty at times during egregious bouts of bad customer service and I remember them with clarity.

There was the one time when Long John Silver's (yes he used to eat there) messed up an order and we sat in the drive through while my dad loudly complained and got his compensation.  There was the pizza incident where he raised his voice and I remember thinking the whole restaurant was watching, but again it was made right.

 My favorite father moment of this kind was when we stopped at a rest stop on a road trip and  the Hari Carishna (sp) man gave him a book of faith, which my dad took without giving the guy a donation.  This evidently was not the way that man thought it should go.  He confronted my dad, who again refused to give money.  The  HC man then blocked our exit by climbing onto the trunk of our car  until  my mom demanded that dad give the book back. I was in awe that my dad could stand up to that man and I obviously saw my mothers frustration at the whole event.  Because really, dad knew that when an HC gives you something he wants something in return. 

But last Wednesday the tables turned.  I walked into Pizza Hut for a late lunch with two very hungry children.  We saw the beautiful and bountiful buffet table and began to salivate immediately.  I told the lady behind the counter that we would have three buffet meals.  She immediately responded that the buffet ended 15 minutes prior and was no longer available.  I checked my impulse to gripe at the fact that there were about 8 full pizzas sitting on the buffet table while no one was eating them and said out loud that we would just order a pizza.

We were sat toward the back of the restaurant but in full view of the main kitchen area.  In other words, I could see everything that was happening in the store.  And there we waited.  I chatted with the kids, watched a waitress clean tables, and saw other patrons leave.  Still we sat.  We watched a Hot Dog eating contest on the t.v. screen. I saw another worker emerge for the bathroom area with cleaning supplies and make her way to the counter to clean something else. And, I also saw the girl who seated us yakking away with  two teenage boys in the kitchen.  They were clearly having a good time. She was using her towel to playfully hit at them as they teased her and the boys were smiling pleased at the attention they were being given.  Meanwhile, my children began to complain.  "We are hungry.  I am thirsty!" "Be patient", I said.  And we waited.  The group of teens dispersed and I thought, this is it.  But it wasn't.  Everyone disappeared. 

A few more minutes passed and a new set of people came into the restaurant.  A new worker sat them down near me and I waved this hostess over immediately and told her in my most teacher-ish voice that we needed service and a manager.  Well,  Aaron's eyes grew wide with questions.  What was I doing?  So I explained the concept of customer service and told him that someone would now deal with my wrath.  At this point the worker that cleaned the bathrooms approached us to apologize as well and beg for mercy for her fellow workers.  She stated that the waiter didn't know we were even there and she would have helped but she had not been feeling so well, and didn't want to get too close to the customers.   - Really!

I calmly told her that someone knew we were there because they had seated us, and that this was unacceptable, and I needed to see a manager immediately.  At this point, Aaron's eyes grew even wider.  "Mom, are they going to get fired?"  He said, beseeching me to show mercy.   But no,  I would have my gripe this time and I did. 

One of the teenage boys who had been yakking it up came to serve us and to his credit apologized profusely for not knowing he had a customer.  The manager did show up (eventually) and said that all would be written up and then comped us our meal. 

Once again, all was right in the customer service world, and because of their well chosen use of humility, I agreed to eat at Pizza Hut again - and of course to amend my FB rant at the customer service we were given. 

I hope Aaron learned a couple of lessons in that exercise in flexing my consumer muscle.  I want him to know that customers count, but most of all I want him to know that when he has that first job.  Take it seriously, work hard, and show the customer that they are KING at least while they are standing in your serving line. :)

A Summer Day At Six Flags

One of the best parts of summer is waking up to a clear blue sky with no chance of rain in the near future and seeing that the temperature will reach a balmy 100 degrees.   And then on a whim decide that THIS is the day to go to Six Flags, which is exactly what we did yesterday.  All three kiddoes read and filled out the Six Flags Six Hour Reading challenge forms and received their free tickets for expanding their minds a little.  So that meant that we only had to pay for 2 tickets and parking.  I was even astute enough to pack a picnic dinner, so the only park food we paid for was a one time only splurge on funnel cake.  With all the planning, kids pricing, and filling up our own water bottles with water from drinking fountains we managed enter Six Flags and submit ourselves happily to some pretty major G-Forces (in some countries, I am sure they use Roller Coasters as punishments for high crimes) for only 120.00 dollars give or take a twenty. 

I am still a little dazed and confused on two points, however.  One - I willingly and happily chunked over money to get jostled, jolted and to sweat profusely all day. And two - who can afford this more often than maybe once every 5 years.  If we had payed regular price it would have taken my family over 300 dollars to enter the park and that doesn't include food or parking!  But I digress....

We had a blast.  The kids were finally tall enough to ride most of the rides!  Which meant that Aaron and Sarah rode EVERYTHING they could (both with parents and without) and Isaac would ride and then would walk around for half an hour after a ride feeling sick. He would say he was done and say he would pass on a couple of rides until his stomach settled but then he would be in line to repeat the process all over again. Needless to say, he did not ride as many as the smaller children and also not as many as I did.  Also, Nathan doesn't ride  anything that spins, flips or turns faster than the Raging Water Rapids.  So He spent a lot of time watching and holding my purse. 

Since I am the designated riding parent that means when Aaron went on the Runaway Mountain - I went too.  When Sarah wanted to spin around in the tea cups, the hot air balloons,  and on the sombrero hat - I went too.  When the kids did the Spanish log ride two times in a row and the mine roller coaster two times in a row - I did too!  Thankfully, Aaron became distracted by the old model driving cars  on the way to the Titan and Texas Giant so I never had to do those.  However,  I got thrown around plenty while Aaron drove our car.  Those little driving cars with Aaron behind the wheel might have been the scariest thing I did all day.  I also flat out said no to the Superman ride that flies you straight up in the air and for some reason Aaron wouldn't go on it  alone. - I think he was smart on that decision.  No one's feet should dangle when getting propelled 60 plus feet into the air! 

Nathan tells me that we can only go to Six Flags on years when the kids ages are a multiple of 3. (He made that rule last night at 11:00p.m., I wonder why?) That means I have until Isaac is 15, Aaron is 12 and Sarah is 9 to rest up.  I am sure next time I will be handing the two older boys money and saying go have fun and maybe Sarah will ride the Titan - by herself. 

Our Six Flags day was a fun day and well worth the 120.00 to hear their giggles and see their smiles.  It was a Summer Day.

Where Does A Summer Day Go?

I am surprised this year how quickly we settled into a summer routine this year.  I am also surprised at how fast a summer day can be filled up.  For example, yesterday was a typical summer day at the Stevens.  Nothing really on the agenda, but surprise...a doctor visit for Sarah and then back home to make lunch.  Chores, reading, piano practice, and swimming, getting in a little exercise and of course the almost daily run to Walmart and my day was done.  I am really not sure how the day passed so quickly.  It befuddles me that I can stay constantly busy reading, writing, cooking and cleaning and being with the kids.  Yet,  I feel like I do very little at all.  It's a conundrum I suppose. 

But maybe that is what summer is about.  The rest that can be found in daily life when the schedule that I adhere to is actually made by me and I can change it if needed or desired.  This is not true of the months between August and May of each year when school, scouts, church, some sort of sport and piano keep us hopping almost nightly.  But during the summer, if we want to go to the park at 8:30 pm we can.  And if we stay up til 12 watching a movie or if I read a book in one night (this does sometimes happen) I do so with little worry about what it will do to the day following. 

So  I must conclude that  I am glad summer is here and that my days can get filled without having to plan each little part of it.  Here's to a Happy Summer!

Aaron - The Comunicator - At Camp

Aaron went off to Camp John Marc last Sunday morning.  It is his week to chill with other children living with Spina Bifida.  Last year as a rookie mom, I was nervous and teared up several times before camp, but the week went by fast.  This year, I am much more secure in the great time I know he is having, but my mind has settled around him for different reasons this year.

There is a hole in our house when he is gone.  It is just a week and we definitely aren't sitting around twiddling our thumbs waiting for him to come back, but the dinner table discussion is not as exuberant.  The evenings are more solitary, and there is definitely less talk during the day.  Part of the life of our family has been removed.

Aaron is our communicator and has  inexplicable way to either make a person laugh with gusto or want to pummel him.  (Really there is not much middle ground, but he is fun).  The comments on the events of the day or a t.v. show and his word play always amaze me. 

Not long ago, in fact, we were at the dinner table talking about our latest Netflix addiction- Star Trek Voyager.  The conversation had something to do with the character, Tom Paris.  Nathan kept mispronouncing it as Parrish.  We laughed a little at that but then Aaron came up with - "Well, I bet sometimes, BeLana Torres would like to make him perish".  I looked at Aaron astonished and then laughed.  I stared and wondered in  amazement as I thought about the word play that just came from the mind of my 9 year old and how it was timed just right to create fun.  He certainly has a gift and a way with words!

He comes home tomorrow and I can't wait to hear all about his time at camp and how he wowed the counselors and campers with his wit. 

The Woods

A picture of the woods.


The children throw themselves up the creek bed in search of the crawdad that Sarah has already found the day before. They jump from rock to rock and scramble over pieces of drift wood that the dry creek bed has not managed to dispel. They come upon a shallow hole still filled with water from the last rain and Sarah points out the crawdad that was there the day before. The kids lean over the hole and try to get a better look while an adult tries to quickly snag the creature. The children are enthralled.

Suddenly the mystery of that hole of water is gone and they move on - up the creek bed and away from the adults. They move fast since they are lithe small people with sure feet. The adults call out to them to wait. We find ourselves trying to maneuver fast enough to keep watch, but carefully enough not to become a victim to the rocky ground. The kids make it to the end of the creek where a waterfall has gone dry and is now exposing a small indention that the kids climb into and around. We take pictures around the minicave and we move on to the next adventure.

Out at the mouth of the creek the children look up at a vertical climb to the top of a cliff. I see their bodies itching to move higher, to conquer the rocky precipice. And they do. I stay solidly on low ground and watch all 5 little ones scramble to the top with the men navigating the way and keeping it as safe as possible. Now the children tower high above us waving and calling to us. I can almost hear their thoughts of "Look at what we can do." Smiles are wide and their yells empowering. They have conquered this corner of nature.

Nature gives them what video games and t.v. can not. They now have a rich look at the earth around them, they have the sounds of the creek bed, the crunch of leaves and the crack of twigs. They smell the cedar and wild flowers. They hear the bugs buzz. They are part of the wild wood and it will change them as they have put their stamp on it.

The Concert

Last Friday night, Nathan and I got the rare treat of being childless for an evening. Thank you, Mom and Dad. As an early birthday present, Nathan got me tickets to see one of my all time favorite artists, Steven Curtis Chapman. The last time I saw him in concert was before college probably sometime in the very early 90's. I remember him on stage with a keyboard in front of him while the crowd bounced up and down to a top 40 rock beat. It was awesome! Along with my past concert experience, SCC songs were also the theme for more than one of my summer camp experiences. In short SCC's music has been a part of my life for a very long time.

Just how long, however, did not register until we entered the auditorium. My vision for the night(and Nathan's fear) was a rumbling rock concert with a loud bass, people jumping in unison and a frenzy of excitement that would energize me. Instead, I walked in to an auditorium with music blaring to a sitting crowd. We found our seats and I began to take in my surroundings. In front of me was a bald man of middle age with his wife and daughter. Next to me, a couple who looked like their nest had been empty for several years. I began to scrutinize the whole crowd and discovered that more than not these people were middle aged or closely approaching it.

Suddenly, I saw my own aging just a little bit more sharply. Inside, I still feel 18. But on the outside...I am closer to 40 than 30. Strangely, I was a little bit shocked by the revelation, but I'm not sure why. I do know that time is passing. My children aren't babies and and I've been married 16 years. But how did it happen, in the blink of an eye that I went from a life time of living being in front of me to being smack dab in the middle of the life I have chosen to live.

For some reason it is all very strange and unsettling - not that I can stop it. I guess what I need to do is to just try to slow down some and enjoy the "miracle of the moment"

THE Valentine

Every once in awhile my kids rise above the normal bickering and overall sibling issues that they leave in their wake and do something really surprising. Once again they fill me with hope that they do love their family and I am raising them with some sense of humanity.

We lost our babysitter for Saturday night and with it our chance to celebrate Valentine's day with a date. I must say I was very disappointed. These last few weeks have been rough. I don't see Nathan much and three kids plus my full time job has been overwhelming. But we decided to make the most of it with a family night.

During our Pizza Hut dinner, I witnessed my boys with their heads tilted conspiratorially close. When questioned, they would not give up their secret. We went home and went about our nightly business. After a bit, Nathan and I were asked to enter the living room.

There were my boys, clad in white shirts and ties. Our coffee table was decked out with a candle, Dr. Pepper, muffins and a silver service bell. Feeling sorry for me they had put together a date for us. They let us watch a tv show and served us like royalty for about an hour. It was very sweet.

By far, this was the best Valentine's gift I have received in a very long time. Nothing can beat my boys thinking about their parents with such selflessness. It made me proud.