TGIF

Oh thank goodness for an upcoming weekend. With the house (I hope) off the market, we shouldn't have as much work to do this weekend. Hopefully we can move before the leaf clean-up begins in earnest!

We worked hard this week to make today an easy one, and since it was a dreary day, I suggested a trip to the video store for some viewing material to watch this afternoon (in between house showings). J decided that she wanted to go to Recreation Station in Washington. She reminded me that I told the girls that we could go there some rainy day...trust her to remember THAT, but not to wear underwear on a regular basis. It's a pretty nice indoor play area in Washington. We have gone twice...both times free weekends. I called this AM to check prices: $7.00/each for kids and $3.00 for adults...BUT children MUST be accompanied by an adult! J went off the deep end when I told her we couldn't afford to pay that much for an hour's worth of play time, no matter how nice the play area. She was grumpy the rest of the AM and I had to prod her to finish her school work.

Luckily Daddy called after lunch to see how my noon time showing went, and suggested taking the girls to Burger King for lunch and to play. Although I really dislike taking them to "Fomite Land", it did the trick - both girls were happy. That is, until L, who was kid watching, fell off her chair and landed on her head on the tiles. She was perfectly fine, and some very nice gentleman bought her a new hamburger since it went flying and landed on the tiles too.

J is now happily playing phonics games on Starfall...great site for pre-readers and beginners. We have started reading some phonics books my Mom gave me and doing Starfall on Fridays...breaks up the tedium. She also wrote a poem today, inspired by Theme In Yellow by Carl Sandburg.

Theme In Green

-JM

I am sweet and children eat me.

I am called sugar snap peas.

I grow in a pod

Like a Luna moth in a cocoon.

I hang from a vine

People pick me.

I'm a delicious dish for dinner.

That's it from the hill...happy weekend to all!
T

When a Primal Scream Just Doesn't Cut it

I'm so ashamed of myself!

I worked (for hours and hours) today on putting trim around the new mantel in the living room. It should have been easy...every thing was cut to fit, all I had to do was nail it in. I tried several different finishing nails, even went back to Wayne Lumber (the I -heart- Hot Moms guy was there again...different t-shirt today) for yet another type. THEY WOULDN'T GO IN! I tried really hard not to shout the slew of 4 letter words that were boiling to the surface, but I have to admit that a couple slipped out.

Finally I just put the hammer down and screamed. Really loud. Really long. Then I cried for a while. What I really wanted to do was bash something. Didn't do it because it would just be one more mess for me to clean up. Meanwhile, my girls were staring at me like I was Satan incarnate. J said "I really wish I could help you Mommy. It looks kinda easy." After hugs all around, I proceeded to get them ready for bed, but I didn't really feel all that much better!

Is there a secret to keeping yourself under control in those out of control moments? I'm seriously hoping that I didn't freak my kids out too much. Maybe family counseling in lieu of a summer vacation this year is in order!

Lesson learned: chestnut is an extremely hard wood (rivals hickory - discovered that one while trying to install child locks on the kitchen cupboards several years ago), don't attempt battle with it until children are at someone else's house and out of hearing range.

T

A Hard Life

Over dinner this weekend, J and her friend, M, were discussing their future vocational goals. J stated that she wants to be a Veterinarian. "I want to have a hard life when I grow up." said M. Perhaps the stunned silence that followed prompted her to explain. "I want to live in a log cabin and cook all my meals over the fire. I want to have a corn crop." (True to her love of all things Pioneer!)

"We have a corn crop." I announced. M didn't appear to be impressed.

In all honesty, our corn patch is not all that impressive. Personally, I find the stately rows of tall, green stalks very beautiful. I only managed to get about half of it weeded and mulched this year before running out of mulching material. The weeds between the remaining rows were knee high, so I actually pushed the mower between the rows this weekend!

I was delighted by the thunder storm last evening! I refilled the rain barrels, and imagined how happy the garden and corn patch would be with all of the water. I surveyed the landscape following the rain with dismay, however. Two-thirds of the corn patch was flattened. Several limbs and many branches littered the ground. The bird feeder was dangling upside down from the suspension wire.

This morning, coffee mug in hand, I strode out to right the fallen stalks. An hour and a half later, I had 6 rows tied up and had weeded another row, straightened and filled the bird feeder, and tossed most of the litter into the woods. With a satisfied sigh, I came in for a bowl of cereal with blueberries.

Not a hard life, certainly, but hard work. Hard work that yields amazing rewards and is personally fulfilling. I can handle that!

T

Naked as a Jay Bird

Last week, I finally found out what it means to be "naked as a Jay Bird" under unfortunate circumstances. While Waynesburg was being whipped by a nasty storm, complete with toppled trees and felled branches, the only damage here was 3 baby birds blown out of their nest. They were Blue Jays, I think, judging from the activity I had seen in the Maple tree lately. 3 pink baby birds without a stitch of feathers to cover them. J was devastated, so we had a baby bird funeral. She still had to go off by herself to recover from her emotions.

J is such an emotional child! She feels things very deeply, and at her age (5 going on 15) she hastens to let us know how she is feeling. As I write, I am listening to her cries and screams of injustice. My stomach is tied up in knots, because I never know if I have done the right thing when I discipline her, but I can't back down once I've made the decision. She is extremely tired after 2 mornings of swimming lessons, picnic in the park and pool in the afternoon. Add to that play with the Elaine children this evening, and she is in meltdown mode. Did I do wrong since she has been crying for 20 minutes now? Oh dear, how to know!?!

Once she is sleeping, I will likely go to her and cradle her head in my arms. If only these night time visits would make up for the pain she is feeling now! My dear, sweet daughter! If only you knew how painful the discipline is for the parent as well! I love you, I love you, I will always love you! Even my heart feels cold...like a naked Jay Bird.

T

Ink Spots

Well, N, now I have ink problems of my own! L found an ink pen and decided to decorate her legs. (Click on the picture for a better view of her artwork.)

J keeps asking "Why L? Why did you write on yourself?" I answer for her: "She's 2!"

Nuff said.

T

Shoo Fly Pie

My brother's train is at least an hour late coming in to Connellsville (a small town in PA to which I've never intentionally been). Luckily he called just minutes before I pulled out of the garage to go pick them up. So, J & I have had some time, while the house is quiet and everyone else sleeps, to play "Go Fish" and "Crazy Eights" and eat a leisurely breakfast.

I managed, in the midst of chaos on Friday, to bake a couple of Shoo Fly Pies. This may not be everyone's dream confection, but they are quite tasty and simple to bake. For some reason they have morphed from dessert to breakfast food in our family. A slice is quite satisfying with a cup of coffee. Since they are very definitely a Mennonite food, I offered a slice to J.

J: "No way!"

T: "It's really quite yummy. Come on, when else would I offer you pie for breakfast?"

J: "Uh uh, I want a pancake."

T: "You have Mennonite blood in you, you should try some Shoo Fly Pie!"

J: "Is that the REAL name? They should give it another name, that's not a very tasty name."

T: " Do you want a bite of mine?"

J: "No thanks."

So, I've got an unwilling child of Mennonite heritage on my hands. One day I'm going to make her try a bite! Until then, I'll just enjoy the swarms of Mennonite people hanging out at our home on the hill.

T

Love and Marriage

Frank & Lydia Belle King, May 29, 1938

Tomorrow my grandparents will have been married for 70 years! Still my grandfather holds and strokes my grandmother's hand, guiding her through each day. It seems almost unimaginable to spend at least 70 years living with the same person! But here is proof that it is possible. DH (Dear Husband) and I will celebrate our 17th anniversary this summer. It won't be too many more years until we have been together longer than we haven't! (To quote the Sicilian in "The Princess Bride": "Inconceivable!")

I thought by now I would feel mature, self confident and knowledgeable about life. Instead I feel like a heavier and grayer version of myself at age 15! If one indeed gains wisdom with age, I hope that some of that wisdom gets dropped in my lap someday soon...I sure could use it. I have to keep reminding myself when I come up against a task that I don't feel confident of doing that I am the adult here. I have to figure it out myself!

Now throw a couple of kids into the mix. What you have now is the ideal situation for years of therapy in the future! I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I'M DOING (or, indeed, why I do some of the really asinine things I do)! I sort of assumed that child-rearing would come naturally, but mostly I feel pretty much like a failure at it. I go to bed every night hoping I haven't irreparably damaged my children. But I love them like crazy, and I'm counting on that to patch a lot of the thin areas in my parenting.

Happy Anniversary Grandpa and Grandma! I wish you many more! And to all of you Super Elaines...happy & loving homes to you all!

T

Help! (I Need Somebody)

I finally got around to scheduling my Board Exams. Wouldn't you know it...there are NO Saturday test times available through Nov. 5th (the last day to take Boards and keep my certification)!! So...I scheduled for Wednesday, June 11th with the hopes that somebody could either recommend a babysitter, or be available to help me with childcare. The exam is scheduled for 5 hours, but likely won't take me that long as I usually don't take all the scheduled breaks. John typically leaves for work around 11:00 on Wednesday, so I would need help from 10:45 until 1-ish that day. I could offer either the going sitter rate, or a childcare swap, or even dinner as recompense. Any takers?

T

A Respite from the Chaos

This dove built her nest on my grandparents' wall hanging...you can see one chick's head!

We have returned from Central PA...rolled up our hill at about 1 AM this morning and carried the sleeping children to their waiting beds. It was a crazy visit. I stayed behind in houses that were not L-proofed, trying to control 2 wild children while Daddy slipped away to doze in mindless conferences most of each day. L broke a different nick-knack in each home we stayed.

I actually did not have as much time alone as I had anticipated. My sister-in-law took half a day off to visit on Thursday. She took us to see the idyllic Camphill Village where she works. We watched the free range chickens and one big turkey, laughed at the antics of the piglets, and admired the woven goods made of recycled jeans and homespun wool from the village's sheep.



One of my dear college friends drove the girls and I to the Hands on House in Lancaster, where my girls and her boys loaded coal on trucks, picked corn to feed the pigs, ran a grocery store, sang on stage and built "thing-a-ma-giggles" in a factory.



My parents and we took dinner to my Grandparents, both in their 90's. J entertained us with a violin concert. My Grandma recited some of the many poems and stories she memorized many years ago. My Grandfather showed us his latest carvings.



We enjoyed singing along to the musical, "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" in Reading, and played in the crabapple petals afterward.



We drove home in the dark to piles of laundry and a marathon 3 hour violin recital this afternoon. At last, in a church pew, I was able to relax while the children played incredible music and L napped in the van with Daddy.

So now I feel deflated. Thankfully husband has a couple more days off from work, perhaps I can get caught up with life again. An Elaines meeting would benefit...(here, some night this week?)

T

Rewards

Okay, kids, only two days left in the week! Breathe. . .breathe. . .breathe. It's that time of evening.

Martin's out three out of five nights this week, a total that would have driven me to crawl up the side of the house by my fingernails previously in my parenting career. But the girls are relatively easy; Merry helps more and more all the time and truly I have nothing to complain about. However--

Occasionally, an especially loud scream causes the tension to begin prickling up my back--I can feel it, like an animal, crawling up my insides, toward my throat, where, unless swallowed, it manifests itself in some sort of unattractive, aggressive noise.

How to deal with this? Singing helps a great deal, when I remember to do it (Fanny Crosby tonight). My sister has been known to growl out loud, which also helps and does no great damage to anyone unless you are excessively prone to introspective wondering (am I truly sane?). Parents of course, occasionally give themselves time-outs. Also, it helps to remind myself that certain rewards waits for me, such as a quiet viewing of an episode of "The Vicar of Dibley", at some uncertain but possible moment later in the evening.

Perhaps, occasionally, it's the constant noise that gets to me most. . .the questions, the singing, all the happy clamor of children (add to this the constant motion--the climbing, the jumping, the jiggling, the expanding and contracting of the young). I remember feeling baffled by the mother who wrote that the thing she loved best about her newborn (a second child) is that the baby never talked. Suddenly I understand.

Speaking of which--my privileges await me (reading to Elspeth). . .and I mean this with no irony. More snow tomorrow? Rewards tonight, rewards all day if I am relaxed enough to see them.

Drive Thru...

Heard on the radio this week: "A drive through ______ would make my life easier."

My first response was "Grocery store!" I can't understand why it takes twice as long to do this weekly chore with the kiddos along! And forget about doing it in the rain, because you have to get the kids, groceries and self soaking wet to unload the shopping cart!

My second response was "Starbucks in Waynesburg!" Although I would really actually dislike seeing a Starbucks in our little town, I would like to have some sort of drive through coffee shop here (McDonalds doesn't count, even though Consumer Reports rated its coffee as a "Best Buy".) I got a Starbucks card for Christmas, which is burning a hole in my pocket. It's just too much trouble to drag the girls into Barnes and Noble or Target in order to use it!

Wondering what your responses might be?

T

P.S. Speaking of Consumer Reports, a photo that I sent in to their "Selling It" page, was printed in the latest issue. :-) If I have time sometime, I'll scan it in. Better yet, I'll bring it to the next Society meeting!

One Way I Survive

I EAT.

I eat Dutch chocolate ice-cream with peanuts. I eat Ghiardelli squares in shiny red packets and multiple clementines. I eat corn chips. I eat bowls of cereal. I eat bowls of dreamsicle ice-cream.

I EAT HEALTHY FOOD, UNHEALTHY FOOD, AND FOOD I CONVINCE MYSELF IS HEALTHY.

I eat endless snacks. I drink endless cups of tea. I eat when no one is watching, and I eat when everyone is watching. I eat between meals. I eat at meals and late at night. I eat as I walk through the kitchen and I eat behind my childrens' backs.

Dark chocolate is a major food group. I blame my appetite on the baby inutero. I blame it on low blood sugar. I often give no excuse.

I see, I salivate, I consume.

Turkey sandwiches that belong to my husband. Orange slices that belong to my children.

How do I survive?

I EAT.