When I entered the roller rink last night it was like stepping back to 1985. The disco ball, lights, DJ and truly gaudy decor brought back all the great times where I was dropped off by my parents with $5 dollars and met friends to have a great time.
Last night, my 7 year old and I strapped on our skates and headed out to the floor and into the reality that skating can be difficult your first time out. Now I have a stubborn child who at times gives up easily, but she still has the tenacity to make IT happen when she wants. I knew what was coming. I instructed her using all my skating skill which actually is very limited, but I taught myself during my afternoons free from mom and dad and I figured she could do the same. She fell down, we laughed. She fell again and we laughed again. It went on and on, but then after a particularly forceful belly flop, she hit her proverbial wall. She wasn't going anywhere! I conjoled, bribed, appealed to her pride and vanity, but to no avail. We were stuck on the far side of the rink with tears and angst and we were not going anywhere!
So I tried the "I going to leave you behind bit" and skated off. I turned around a bit later to what I was sure would be her following me slowly, but instead I saw something that made me quite angry.
Another child had given my girl a crutch, literally! There she was holding on to this v-shaped design made with pvc pipe and wheels. She was skating now, technically. I was incensed. No one can learn to skate with a crutch, after all it takes balance and perseverance. A person can't lean on something and gain balance. And so like the harsh unfeeling mommy I can be, I went and took it away from her.
There was more crying and frustration, but we didn't pay for her to use a crutch while skating and she wouldn't learn that way. Other children had them and to Sarah it looked like they were having so much fun and not struggling. Sarah was adamant she needed the help. I was adamant she didin't and so I left her again to struggle through the learning curve.
Not more than two minutes later another one of the vile crutches was handed to her by another well intentioned child! This time I called a rink staff member. I asked him straight out if those wheeled helping contraptions actually helped anyone learn to skate. The answer was what I expected - NO. They only hinder the skating process but over half the children out on that rink were using them. I expressed my frustration to him and to his credit he told me I could walk on the rink with my shoes on to help my little girl. The mom beside me, though, piped up that she thought these crutch contraptions were just fine because her child hadn't had proper lessons yet. Proper lessons for roller skating! Who takes skating lessons? How absurd to think that pain can be saved by a crutch and that taking the easy way will make a person learn anything. I had watched the other children skating around with these things and they were still falling, but at much fast speeds than my girl fell. In addition, when they fell they got tangled in the contraption itself making their pain even worse.
Then it hit me! This was a reflection of what is wrong with our society. We are so hypersensitive about saving our children from the pains of childhood that we hinder their growth and development. I learned to skate by skating and falling. I wanted to skate because others were doing it and leaving me behind. I wanted to conform and be with the gang. Unfortunately, Sarah didn't feel the pressure to skate because those her age out on the floor were using a crutch. The crutch looked normal and as a child she couldn't see the real harm that could come from using it. The fight for independence from her crutch seemed unnecessary and cruel. She no longer wanted her freedom and independence. She wanted the crutch!
Isn't this so much the way parents today are approaching education, ball teams, etc. Our kids are living in bubbles that are ever expanding as a new dangers arise. Kids are living longer at home, expecting employers to meet their demands, and waiting for the "right job" instead of just getting a job. The pain of falling is being mitigated by the crutch and it is time for us as parents to step away and give our children the chance to experience the common pains of growing up in the hopes that when they are 18 they can act grown.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Living With Boys
There has been a constant battle for years in my house regarding towels. I probably just have too many and for a decade have been dutifully washing towels after only one usage. Completely Wasteful.
But for the last several months, I have been harping about not wasting money (as I am sure most middle class Americans have - despite that we are told the worst of our financial hardships are behind us).
At any rate, I was fairly surprised this week when my dirty clothes hamper did not fill with towels by Tuesday. When I checked again on this Saturday morning, I was excited to find very few towels waiting to be washed.
Then I went to the linen closet and found no towels there. My mind slowly started working as I realized that there are no towels in the hamper and none in the closet....where did they go. I checked both boys rooms ( the usual culprits to missing household items) and yet their floors were also towel free.
With Foreboding, I turned heel down the hall and went to the kids' bathroom. There, hanging on four pegs was every towel in the house. Piled, not on the floor, but on the wall - four and five towels deep.
Evidently half of my message had gotten through. Upon questioning my middle boy, I discovered he understood I wanted the towels hung. However, the message to conserve and reuse was completely lost.
Once again, I learn a lesson about living with boys - take nothing for granted!
But for the last several months, I have been harping about not wasting money (as I am sure most middle class Americans have - despite that we are told the worst of our financial hardships are behind us).
At any rate, I was fairly surprised this week when my dirty clothes hamper did not fill with towels by Tuesday. When I checked again on this Saturday morning, I was excited to find very few towels waiting to be washed.
Then I went to the linen closet and found no towels there. My mind slowly started working as I realized that there are no towels in the hamper and none in the closet....where did they go. I checked both boys rooms ( the usual culprits to missing household items) and yet their floors were also towel free.
With Foreboding, I turned heel down the hall and went to the kids' bathroom. There, hanging on four pegs was every towel in the house. Piled, not on the floor, but on the wall - four and five towels deep.
Evidently half of my message had gotten through. Upon questioning my middle boy, I discovered he understood I wanted the towels hung. However, the message to conserve and reuse was completely lost.
Once again, I learn a lesson about living with boys - take nothing for granted!
Sunday, January 6, 2013
And She will do it Herself
For many parents, the first independent thing their child does is full of a mixture of joy and sadness. But this last Saturday, as Sarah showed a great aptitude of independence, all I felt was shock.
Sarah turned 7 about three weeks ago.Shortly after that I realized, in a moment of fleeting clarity, that she was 7 and I still had training wheels on her bike! This was a shocking revelation as my boys' training wheels came off when they were 5. So at that exact moment, I turned to my daughter and declared, "Now, that you are 7 we need to get those training wheels off your bike!" She smiled her sweet little smile at me and we went about our day. I quickly forgot the exchange.
When my mom stopped by on Saturday, Sarah was outside in the driveway with a screwdriver, a wrench and her bike. She had already managed to get one training wheel off. My mom walked up to her and calmly asked what she was doing.
Her reply- "I'm 7 and I don't need these anymore!"
Instead of waiting for an adult to help, she gathered her own tools and made quick work of the mechanics of her training wheels. I was flabbergasted! And then I remembered the short conversation we had before Christmas about her training wheels.
I have learned my lesson. Sarah remembers everything and will take her destiny in her own hands if she needs to.
And in case you are wondering. Yes, she can ride her bike without training wheels. Unfortunately, she did fall down after about 15 minutes of riding and then decided that she needed to wait until she was 9 to get back on her bike. - sigh -
Sarah turned 7 about three weeks ago.Shortly after that I realized, in a moment of fleeting clarity, that she was 7 and I still had training wheels on her bike! This was a shocking revelation as my boys' training wheels came off when they were 5. So at that exact moment, I turned to my daughter and declared, "Now, that you are 7 we need to get those training wheels off your bike!" She smiled her sweet little smile at me and we went about our day. I quickly forgot the exchange.
When my mom stopped by on Saturday, Sarah was outside in the driveway with a screwdriver, a wrench and her bike. She had already managed to get one training wheel off. My mom walked up to her and calmly asked what she was doing.
Her reply- "I'm 7 and I don't need these anymore!"
Instead of waiting for an adult to help, she gathered her own tools and made quick work of the mechanics of her training wheels. I was flabbergasted! And then I remembered the short conversation we had before Christmas about her training wheels.
I have learned my lesson. Sarah remembers everything and will take her destiny in her own hands if she needs to.
And in case you are wondering. Yes, she can ride her bike without training wheels. Unfortunately, she did fall down after about 15 minutes of riding and then decided that she needed to wait until she was 9 to get back on her bike. - sigh -
Monday, November 19, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
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!
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!
Saturday, July 14, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, July 9, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, July 6, 2012
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. :)
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. :)
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
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!
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!
Thursday, June 14, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
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 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.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
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"
Sunday, February 12, 2012
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.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Language Lessons and Laughs
As a teacher, I know I will never get rich, but I can honestly say that I believe my job is a lot more entertaining than most.
This week especially I have laughed out loud, been awed by a child and shocked by another. These little beings we refer to as children really do think so differently than adults. Many times their wisdom is as poignant as their guffaws.
Case in point: A teacher in one of the rooms that I float into was discussing citizenship and what it means to be a citizen. The girl Iwas closest to leaned toward me and asked, "What is a citizen?" I answered that a citizen of a country is one born in the country who belongs there." I expected to get a nod of understanding. Instead, I got a shocked "Mrs. Stevens!!!!" complete with mouth hanging open and eyes bugging out of her head. I was confused. So I repeated it and sure enough discovered the little girl had thought I said "porn". I am still flabbergasted how this young child knew what porn was, but not the word citizen. It should also be noted that this child was not an ESL student.
Case in Point 2: The next day, I was sitting with a group of kindergarten students learning the H sound. We were looking at objects beginning with H and the next one on the list was a hook. I asked if anyone knew what the picture was and a little girl very confidently answered - "Yes, A hooker." After the porn thing, I couldn't help myself. I just laughed out loud and wondered what my world was coming to!
An about face: In the same class as the first story, I was teaching a prewriting strategy in writing. The class was creating a web. It is fashionable today for all work to be student led and therefore more engaging. I agree with this philosophy and was leading the children in a brainstorming discussion about their passions. One little boy raised his hand and said he was passionate about his belief in God. I wrote it down and went on with the lesson. The next part of the lesson was doing a class web and so I took a vote. Out of 4 different topics on the chart to pick from "belief in God" won. Suddenly the class was shouting at me all the reasons they believed in God. The room was pulsing with the energy of excited little faces all smiling brightly about God's promises to his people. God helps us, God loves us, God sent Jesus to earth to save us, the list went on. After the group lesson, I asked for students to work independently on a new web of their own. 5 students still wanted to write about believing in God...and who am I to stop them. I was awed by their delight in the creator and humbled that I sometimes take Him for granted.
It has been an interesting week to say the least. Teaching is tough work that sometimes lends little time for outside pursuits, like writing this blog. But at times, it is the most entertaining and rewarding of careers.
This week especially I have laughed out loud, been awed by a child and shocked by another. These little beings we refer to as children really do think so differently than adults. Many times their wisdom is as poignant as their guffaws.
Case in point: A teacher in one of the rooms that I float into was discussing citizenship and what it means to be a citizen. The girl Iwas closest to leaned toward me and asked, "What is a citizen?" I answered that a citizen of a country is one born in the country who belongs there." I expected to get a nod of understanding. Instead, I got a shocked "Mrs. Stevens!!!!" complete with mouth hanging open and eyes bugging out of her head. I was confused. So I repeated it and sure enough discovered the little girl had thought I said "porn". I am still flabbergasted how this young child knew what porn was, but not the word citizen. It should also be noted that this child was not an ESL student.
Case in Point 2: The next day, I was sitting with a group of kindergarten students learning the H sound. We were looking at objects beginning with H and the next one on the list was a hook. I asked if anyone knew what the picture was and a little girl very confidently answered - "Yes, A hooker." After the porn thing, I couldn't help myself. I just laughed out loud and wondered what my world was coming to!
An about face: In the same class as the first story, I was teaching a prewriting strategy in writing. The class was creating a web. It is fashionable today for all work to be student led and therefore more engaging. I agree with this philosophy and was leading the children in a brainstorming discussion about their passions. One little boy raised his hand and said he was passionate about his belief in God. I wrote it down and went on with the lesson. The next part of the lesson was doing a class web and so I took a vote. Out of 4 different topics on the chart to pick from "belief in God" won. Suddenly the class was shouting at me all the reasons they believed in God. The room was pulsing with the energy of excited little faces all smiling brightly about God's promises to his people. God helps us, God loves us, God sent Jesus to earth to save us, the list went on. After the group lesson, I asked for students to work independently on a new web of their own. 5 students still wanted to write about believing in God...and who am I to stop them. I was awed by their delight in the creator and humbled that I sometimes take Him for granted.
It has been an interesting week to say the least. Teaching is tough work that sometimes lends little time for outside pursuits, like writing this blog. But at times, it is the most entertaining and rewarding of careers.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A Picture of the Beach
Growing up, I lived smack in the middle of our Great Nation. We were a minimum of 1000 miles from any beach and, therefore, I didn't see the ocean much.
Even with my limited childhood knowledge, I love the ocean. I love the dull roar of the surf and the thought that those waters are teaming with thousands of creatures. Pelicans soar up into the sky only to turn straight down and torpedo into the water. Thousands of fish are pulled out of the ocean each day, crabs scuttle across rocks. And occasionally, we even get to see a shark pulled up onto shore. It is both mesmerizing and intimidating to watch the ocean.
What goes on in the water is awesome, but what happens on the beach itself is sometimes humorous and always heartwarming.
Usually, Nathan and I lug all the stuff necessary for a day at the beach down to our spot and set up while the kids grab the boogie board and sand toys and begin their day. After all the work is done, I sit with a book to occasionally read and watch the beach goings-on. Nathan moves in and out of the surf with nets and fishing poles to try and get something hooked on a line. The children go to respective activities. As the day passes, we become like the ocean itself. My family moves apart and then back together in a smooth undulation. We join each other for walks, kite flying, sand castle building and fishing. But then we separate and move on to do something alone. The days are together, but not on top of each other.
Others, strangers that become friends-for-a-day, move in to check out what we dragged up with the seine net. They talk about ocean animals and comment on castles and sometimes help out with a net or join in on some digging.
This year, a group of older kids taught Aaron how to skim board and another couple kids helped in vain to keep the ocean from overtaking the sand castle my kids tried to make exactly where the tide was coming in. When the ocean won that battle, Aaron looked up at me and said "It was a good fight". He learned that nature is way more powerful than 5 children and a few shovels.
Sarah and Aaron both spent time fishing with Nathan. They would strap on life jackets and move out into the waters with him until all I could see were little kid heads and Nathan's big floppy hat. They stayed out with him like that for a long time, just spending time with their dad. And the look of joy when they snagged something was incredible. My children get very excited about catching a fish!
We go every year now, after I got that real taste for the shore, I just can't help taking them to the ocean. Each year the trip changes just a little, each year we see something new and each year we build memories that are not tied to things but to each other.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
My child's Idea of the word Whore House
Tonight I made lasagna. It is one of my specialties and is eaten with gusto and true joy by my husband and children. They always ask for seconds and do not restrain themselves during lasagna eating dinners. Tonight was no exception and Sarah was covered with red sauce all over the mouth cheeks and nose.
Being a girl, she decided about half way through dinner to ask for a napkin. I was surprised to see she was such a mess. I guess I had my attention on my lasagna, too! Immediately, I handed her a napkin and made an exclamation of mock horror at her face. She giggled.
It was at this exact moment that Aaron very loudly stated that she looked just like a whore house. I wasn't exactly sure I had heard right.
Whore houses are not normal Stevens family topics of discussion. I asked him to clarify. Now Aaron is my child most likely to get into trouble and therefore, might have found out some how what a whore house actually was. As I asked for clarification. I was silently debating whether I should be angry or educational in my response.
Aaron also looked as if he thought that maybe he had made a mistake and was about to get sent away from his lasagna dinner. But sheepishly he said it again and sure enough he had said whore house.
"Do you know what that is?" I asked in my mostly calm but teetering on highly emotional voice. It was at this point that Isaac jumped in and said yes with great confidence. Isaac explained that a whore house was a scary place. You know like Halloween scary. Aaron at the same time is nodding his head in agreement with a look of complete agreement and assertion in his belief.
After a moment of deep thought, I said "No, I think what you are talking about is a Haunted House. It is not at all like a whore house." Nathan disagreed with me there, but for the sake of the children's senses didn't allow that conversation line to continue.
Needless to say, we had to have a vocabulary lesson about that term and hopefully we will hear it no more at our dinner table.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Harriet - The return of the Lady
About three weeks ago, the dogs got out. Marley and Harriet saw an opening and sprinted through the door. It was scorching hot outside. I had somewhere to be and I didn't really want to chase dogs around the block for their amusement. So, I let them go.
I figured that they would come back. Sure enough, Marley scratched on the door about 15 minutes later and we went on about our day.
At 10:30 that night I wanted to put the day to rest and go to sleep. I started calling to the dogs in order to put them to bed for the night. That is when it dawned on me that Harriet did not come home like Marley. She was gone.
The children were sad. The next day, I went looking for her and couldn't find anything. No one called to say they found her. After a week, I was sure she was gone forever.
I was saddened by this turn of events, but was resigned to the fact that somehow the one dog that I would have been fine with losing was still at my house and my little cutie was gone.
9 days later, I was finishing my morning exercise route when my walking partner (mom) gasped loudly. I startle easily and began yelling "What! What!" and searching for the giant attack dog that was, I was sure, bearing down on us. I turned my head and there she was.
HARRIET! My English Spaniel Beauty was running straight toward us, her ears were flying straight back, a look of pure joy in her eyes. She ran right to me. When I picked her up she was smelly, wet and gross.
I was astounded that she was back. I think she was astounded to find her family again.
She got a day at the doggie spa and we go out sweet little Harriet back.
I figured that they would come back. Sure enough, Marley scratched on the door about 15 minutes later and we went on about our day.
At 10:30 that night I wanted to put the day to rest and go to sleep. I started calling to the dogs in order to put them to bed for the night. That is when it dawned on me that Harriet did not come home like Marley. She was gone.
The children were sad. The next day, I went looking for her and couldn't find anything. No one called to say they found her. After a week, I was sure she was gone forever.
I was saddened by this turn of events, but was resigned to the fact that somehow the one dog that I would have been fine with losing was still at my house and my little cutie was gone.
9 days later, I was finishing my morning exercise route when my walking partner (mom) gasped loudly. I startle easily and began yelling "What! What!" and searching for the giant attack dog that was, I was sure, bearing down on us. I turned my head and there she was.
HARRIET! My English Spaniel Beauty was running straight toward us, her ears were flying straight back, a look of pure joy in her eyes. She ran right to me. When I picked her up she was smelly, wet and gross.
I was astounded that she was back. I think she was astounded to find her family again.
She got a day at the doggie spa and we go out sweet little Harriet back.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Where did June Go?
Here it is July 4 and I am thinking what I do every year. Summer is half over and I don't know where it went.
June for us was spent sending the boys to camp and Sarah to swim lessons. We've seen cheap movies, gone fishing, rode bikes had fun times with friends and family. We have even torn out carpet and are in the process of redoing floors in the kid part of the house.
In all it has been a June filled with summer type stuff. I am including some pics of the boys at camp below.
Aaron went to Camp John Marc for special needs children during the Spina Bifida week. He loved doing the crafts, swimming and cooking out on their "camping" night. His mosaic was especially beautiful and is hanging in our hallway.
Isaac went to both church and Scout camp and he like both equally well, I think. He did say there were less bugs at church camp, but then Scout camp had loads of snakes. I am not sure why bugs creep the boy out more than snakes, but that is the way it is.
Without further adieu, here are the cutest boys in the world.
June for us was spent sending the boys to camp and Sarah to swim lessons. We've seen cheap movies, gone fishing, rode bikes had fun times with friends and family. We have even torn out carpet and are in the process of redoing floors in the kid part of the house.
In all it has been a June filled with summer type stuff. I am including some pics of the boys at camp below.
Aaron went to Camp John Marc for special needs children during the Spina Bifida week. He loved doing the crafts, swimming and cooking out on their "camping" night. His mosaic was especially beautiful and is hanging in our hallway.
Isaac went to both church and Scout camp and he like both equally well, I think. He did say there were less bugs at church camp, but then Scout camp had loads of snakes. I am not sure why bugs creep the boy out more than snakes, but that is the way it is.
Without further adieu, here are the cutest boys in the world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)