The Quilt Maker's Gift

Yesterday my son and I went to our local high school dance class' performance of the children's storybook The Quilt Maker's Gift. Just what I needed. The kids did a wonderful job. The music, the dance, the story...wonderful. Even taking in the faces of the different girls performing was moving, some apparently wondering why they had taken this class, some gracefully caught up in the dance, others giggly and self-aware...together, a beautiful composition. But the story brought me to swelling tears more than once...a reminder of the true spirit of the season and the surest path to happiness. An ode to compassion and selflessness. Inspiring!

If you have never read the storybook, you must, you must...a wonderful story to share with your children during the holiday season.

love and joy to you all!

Perspective

This is what it's all about:

Read this while I weep

Your Mother

My mother puts me
in her warm hands
and I smile.
I love her
more than the world.

She is the one
with the warm smile
always on her face.

She is the one
to smile deeply
until you
smile deeply too.

I hug her
and she hugs me back.
I feel as if
there was magic
in the air,
and there is;
it is the magic
of love.


Sophia wrote this for me last night while I ranted about my girls' messy messy room. Need I say more?

Thankful Thursday: blog deficit and everyone

I probably should be in the kitchen right now washing dishes, which are legion. After a morning of errands and snow flurries, all I want to do is get my little ones a warm meal and have some quiet time, reading and writing and sitting.

The 30 posts in 30 days experiment has been interesting. Between both blogs, I have been posting fairly consistently, but certainly not everyday! No pressure, though. One thing I have noticed is that I am definitely more concerned with worthwhile content than posting everyday. Perhaps my enthusiasm has waned or maybe I've just found a better way.

The past several months have been an interesting journey into authenticity...something I definitely want to explore on a deeper level. My writing outside of the blogosphere has evolved and pulled me in. Other artists and relationships have been an increasing inspiration. I am discovering more about myself and the fascinating connections within humanity as a whole, how we communicate, learn, grow together and from each other, how we all need each other.

One of the most beautiful quotes I have read on the topic lately is from Allison Mack's Blog:

“Compassion is the emotional glue that keeps you rooted in the universality of the human experience, as it connects you to your essence and to the essence of those around you. It is the act of opening your heart”

What a pressing role compassion plays in the expansion and maturing of the human soul. How deeply the connection and empathy we feel toward others effects us individually and as a whole, finding that our inward experiences are not so different, finding that whatever our earthly existence, the essence of our being relates deeply with the experience of others, even in our vast differences. This compassion, this connection, could change the world.

Neglected jobs and tea parties

Today is apparently a day for neglected jobs: cleaning trash cans, scrubbing the floor under large appliances, decluttering the top of my dryer.

The advent of Halloween and sticky gunk stuck to the sides and bottom of the trash cans is a sign that it is time. I only use a bag in the kitchen trash (the one all stickies are supposed to be tossed in), trying to be kind to our landfills. (or in attempt to off set the guilt of all the disposable diapers we've sent there over the past 91/2 years.) In spite of the yucky factor, it's a surprisingly rewarding task,creating an entirely new appreciation for the void and sparkling trash receptacles.

In the past, it's been customary to pull the big appliances out (washer, dryer, fridge, stove) in the last few weeks of my pregnancies. The hidden floors probably deserved to be scrubbed more often, but at least I was consistent. Since the whole nesting thing is a past chapter, I'm thinking a new routine will need to be established. I haven't figured that out yet, but the trash cans just put me in the mood, so maybe chewed and discarded gum is the trigger. At any rate, again, quite a rewarding job...can't see it, but you just know it's clean. That's nice.

The laundry room in our house is also the downstairs bathroom, and where I store cleaning supplies. The dryer has become one of the many collection spots. It collects spare change, combs and brushes, a variety of hair accessories, baseballs, empty detergent bottles awaiting rinse and recycle, nail clippers, plastic recorders, buttons and dust, among other items. The plan is to declutter this area and wipe it clean, but I've been side-tracked by a lovely tea-party hosted by my Sarah.

The dryer can wait...

Thankful Thursday: Bigelow's Vanilla Almond

I'm thankful for my next-door friend who decided not to wait until Christmas to deliver a box of Bigelow Tea's coveted Vanilla Almond. We've both grieved this line being pulled from local grocer's shelves, bought multiple boxes at a time wherever found, and shared our dwindling stock.

What is it about this tea that keeps us hunting it down? It is, as with all well- brewed tea, the aroma. Mmmmn. Maybe it is the fragrance of friendship, of late nights sitting up together, hot tea cupped in hands. Front porches, wicker seating, great conversation and tea.

I needed a good cuppa today. But more than that, I needed the smiling face, the "I couldn't make you wait 'til Christmas." Thank you, friend...that meant a lot to me today.

My un-done list.

Today I
didn't
make
the bed.

I
made the coolest fort.
ever.

Today I
didn't
fold
the last load
of laundry.

I
wrote something funny
with my son.

Today I
left dishes
in
the sink.

I
called
a far away
friend.

Today I
didn't blog.

I
sat on the couch
and laughed with Someone
and ate
peppermint bark.

Labels

I've always liked the time before dawn
because there's no one around to remind
me who I'm supposed to be,
so it's easier to remember who I am
~Brian Andreas

Don't we label ourselves, dear ones, with small labels? At any given moment, I am just as much Girl Washing Dishes as I am Girl Dancing With Baby. My ego revels in and clings to labels...labels like writer, artist, mother, wife. Deep down I know there is no difference...doing the dishes is just as sweet, just as good as writing poetry.

Moment by moment, life's transient nature is unveiled in the revelation of my “selfs.” This is where I begin to move, unattached to any one particular story of “me.” Here it is, the most beautiful, joyful place I have ever been, and then I realize that every moment is the play, every experience is exactly what I need to grow through. I melt into the action of washing a spoon, feeling the slipperiness of the suds and dish cloth over the surface, shiny, clean. I look into the utensil and am aware suddenly of the wonder in this moment, the ecstatic joy of holding such beauty in my very hand...and my hand so gracefully holding the spoon, plunging it beneath the water, rinsing the soap away...only silvery reflection. I am the Washer Of Spoons, I am the spoon.

My 2-year-old runs into the kitchen calling for me, tugging on my pant leg. I swing her up, knowing that her smile and laughter will break through. The spoon moment is gone and I am transformed into Mother....Mother with Child. Shimmering spoon no longer exists, I am in a new moment...the next now.

Small labels are sweet, dear ones, embrace them, love them, but do not cling to them. At this moment, I am Girl Sitting At Table With Coffee. My ego says, Writer....I am Writer...desperately clinging. This is a label I am stubborn with. This is a label that keeps me from loving “Girl Doing Dishes.” At times, it even keeps me from loving “Mother Playing With Children” and “Mother Singing Lullabies.” It is the label that keeps me identifying with this personality everyone calls “Ruthie.” I love it, but just like the spoon, it must sink below the surface and surrender to the waves of the moment by moment transience of life.

(This is an excerpt from a book project I'm working on, the one that's writing me.)

One little Voice

It's been one week and already I'm finding this 30 posts in 30 days idea dragging a bit. I guess I deserve a little grace considering I'm actually doing double duty...60 posts in 30 days between the two blogs. I'm one of the countless minuscule voices in the blogosphere...nevertheless, a voice. Every voice counts, even if heard by few.

Children will teach you about yourself. They'll teach you that you are capable of deep compassion, and also that you are definitely not the nice, calm, competent, clear-thinking, highly evolved person you fancied yourself to be before you became a mother.
~Harriet Lerner, The Mother Dance

When we are listened to, it creates us,
makes us unfold and expand.
~Brenda Ueland, If You Want to Write

There is something wonderfully bold and liberating about saying yes to our entire imperfect and messy life.
~Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance

A Song by Sophie

Sophie wrote this song for me. At the top of the page she added her version of the musical notations, influenced I'm guessing from music class at school. I love this. Here are the words:

If you think so slow

and it's sunny and slow

you better be happy

where you are

and bow down

beneath the air

hold your breath

for a second or more

hope you enjoy

what God gives you

on this earth.

~Sophie~

(7 yrs.)

LOL

There's a new comic in our house. She's two.

Her: Knock Knock

Me: Who's there?

Her: Manana

Me: Banana who?

She covers her mouth with her hands and snickers.

Then we all laugh wildly.

It's a good one.

Halloween

Ruby did have a diaper on here, but by this point, clothes were optional.

An Ode to Laundry and other things I didn't figure in...

I dreamed about guitars and walks in the woods...and helping people. I dreamed about traveling to India or writing music and poetry. These were my grown-up dreams in college.

I loved college. I loved the soulful, beautiful people I met there. I loved the freedom of finding my passion in life. I loved my writing classes and my mentors. I loved being alone.

I did laundry in college...at the laundromat. Sometimes I used the campus laundromat. It was always full of fantastic people. Funny people, studying people, people folding jeans. I liked to sit on my dryer and just be with them all. Sometimes we'd go to an off-campus laundromat, toss our clothes in and run quick to the Baskin-Robbins next door for ice-cream.

I never dreamed about my future laundry. Laundry was not as dreamy as music and poetry...and certainly didn't have the altruistic pull of digging wells in third-world countries and feeding wide-eyed hungry children. My dreams were much more magnanimous than washing clothes.

A couple of years into college, my friends started pairing up. Some were getting engaged, some were getting married. I was reading Amy Carmichael books, contemplating a single life traveling to foreign countries to save the world, and writing. Do missionaries do laundry? A picture of humanitarian aid workers washing socks never entered my imagination...just dirt and sweat and pony-tails.

Then something entirely unsuspected happened. I fell crazy in love. Total misjudgment, I know. You just can't plan these things. One minute you're building your castle in the sky, next minute you're gazing into the blue eyes of your destiny. And you start dreaming together.

Ten years and four little blue-eyes later, dirt and sweat and pony tails are my reality. So is sock-washing. My dreams never really faded, they just evolved. In truth, they came in to focus. Writing and walking in the woods, seeing people loved and transformed...these are still at the core of my aspirations. Only now, I'm dressing a few of them in Halloween costumes and trying to remember to pre-treat the chocolate smudges before setting the wash cycle.

Not to say that there's never a tug-of-war between my dreams and the laundry, I feel it nearly everyday. I've just learned to love the challenge, to let it teach me. If the laundry is smothering my heart, I feel discontent trying to creep in. Patience with my children grows thin. Then I try to do exactly what I want my children to learn...shake my head, take a deep breath and have grace...on my growing self.

I'd choose the laundry again.

More on Emotions...

While we're on the subject of gushing emotions, I was chatting with a dear friend on the phone yesterday. She told me about working on her professional website, adding a ton of heartfelt information (she's a professional counselor who works mainly with children) and then losing it all in an instant. Anyone else have a story like this? I have a few...that sinking feeling in your gut, the sense of denial. She walked around in a daze for a while, mumbling words of unbelief and pounding on soft objects. We all need a little bit of therapy to work out these kind of emotions. I laughed with her a knowing laugh.

And I loved it...totally. I loved the emotion and the realness and how it grips us and how we learn to feel it and move through it. I have not met a person who cannot relate in someway.

It's easy to let emotions overwhelm us. There was a time when mine ruled supreme. Time and growth teach us that we need equanimity. Emotions are wonderful and natural and legitimate, even necessary, to the human experience. We can't deny them, we can only learn from them and let them change us and motivate us.

Next time you feel a strong emotion, take the time be present. Feel it, be mindful of it, try moving through it with grace. It takes practice...lots of practice. Positive emotions can be wonderful. Negative emotions can be motivating. They both are filled with energy that can fuel change.

Thankful Thursday: Blank Pages

A few days ago my oldest daughter, Sophie, walked past me with a funny smile. She was holding a totally white piece of printer paper in her hand. What struck me about her smile was that is seemed totally real, unforced, in fact the opposite, the kind of smile that breaks out from an uncontrollable burst of happiness. She looked straight at me and blurted out with the smile, "A piece of blank paper makes me feel so happy!"

I love that...totally. love. it. Have you ever felt that way, I mean so happy about something that you just had to let it pour out? I'm feeling happy about blank pieces of paper today too.

Here's to 30 days worth.

30 posts in 30 days

My hubby is starting his master's degree program this week so I decided to throw myself into a new endeavor too. Not quite so industrious but notable none the less, for me. I'm dedicating myself to a month of daily blogging with hopes of creating a more consistent routine in my writing...and just for fun. My hopes are to blog both here and at A Path to My Woods daily during the month of November. I know it's a challenge, but one I'm looking forward to.

In light of a personal pursuit for inspiration in my daily life and in my art, I've decided to focus my blogs in that direction for the month. My Woods is, of course, mostly a picture of my family and home life, while A Path to My Woods is the inner journey, both wrapped up in my passion for living artfully. They are intertwined, and yet I felt compelled to make two separate blogs, mostly for my own exploration.

Please come back and read, my friends. I love your input...humor my questions and inspire me!

Letting it go....

Most Sunday afternoons I enjoy a few uninterrupted hours of artist time, sitting in a local coffee shop with a latte and my laptop or at the park across the way writing in a favorite quiet place. After two refreshing hours yesterday I was prepared to come home and write a blog about impermanence and detachment from my creative work...but only out of necessity. Sudden horror popped onto my screen as I was organizing some files from two book projects I'm working on. The message said something about a system crash and then everything locked up. Calmly rebooting my computer, I reopened my SD card files to find all except the one I was trying to delete to be gone, gone, gone. I slumped in my seat, cheeks flushed, tears welling up.

My first thought was rush home to Luke (computer tech hero on more than one occasion of my technical blunder) and wail out the proportion of my loss. Then, deep breath and self pep talk: "Get a hold of yourself, Ruth. Writing is a process. What you lose in content you have gained in personal growth. It's okay. Let go." I sat for a moment and pondered the inward journey and evolution all those vanished words walked me through. I felt them inside me, still transforming me, felt gratitude for the experience in the midst of loss. Then I went home and said, "Help!"
Yes, my hubby saved me again. I'm always amazed at how he can pull lost files out of thin air.

What a wonderful experience to be able to feel and let go. Of course, this was only my writing, not a loved one or limb. I can't say how I would respond in a different circumstance. But little by little we grow through the small experiences to reach a place of equanimity and surrender to the beauty of what is, embracing life as an opportunity to grow through it all.

Thankful Thursday: Music and Miniture Violinists

For the past month or so Sarah has been voicing her birthday wish list. She turned 5 this week. The list has remained surprisingly short and to be honest, quite impressive: a xylophone, a violin and Minnie Mouse slippers. Okay, I cannot tell you how much hearing my child express definitively that she wants a violin and a xylophone makes me wants to just gush all over the place. My mind immediately flashes forward to a beautiful young woman standing in a long black dress, bow in hand, accompanied by a full orchestra....or maybe chiming in with the percussionists in the background. I'm guessing she would have outgrown the slippers by then.

So, here is my little violinist at 5 years...now to find a teacher....

To celebrate her birthday we went to a high school marching band contest at the football field. It was a blast. I played percussion from fifth grade through high school and have an insatiable affinity for a really good street beat, so seeing my children sitting on the bleachers joyfully taking in the whole experience was a thrill. They were smiley and fidgety and obviously being effected by the beat. Sophie now tells me she plans to play the drums and Sarah of course, is set on the xylophone.

So, black tie orchestra or marching band, I have big dreams of enjoying my children make music as they grow. For now, I'm happy to add a lot of banging on the drumset and a squeaky violin to the living room guitar and piano conciertos I've already been awed by. :)

Thankful Thursday: On Art and Blogging...

Sorry about the blogging hiatus. I've been spending the last month in pursuit of, well, myself. Somewhere around my 34th birthday a disconnect occurred. Whether it was the idea of moving deeper into my thirties, my adorable husband hinting at middle-agedness or the realization that ten years speeds by after you pass your second decade (I mean, I just turned 20, right?)...well whatever, it sent me reeling for a few weeks. I still feel really young. In spite of the fact that my family has grown exponentially by 1 about every 2 years for the past decade, I am reasonably sane and optimistic about life. Most of the time I love being a mother, staying home with my kids and artistic endeavors. However, occasionally something pushes me over the edge (usually it has something to do with the moon phases) and I start to wallow in discontent.

I know you're starting to wonder what this has to do with art and blogging. I'm getting there. It's in the rescue. Sometimes we can willfully pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and sometimes we just need inspiration. Sometimes we need a friend or a word or a kick in the keister. Okay, in desperate situations, a handful of dark chocolate will suffice, but that's only a quick fix. We need each other.

Inspiration. A breath of fresh air. A reminder of who I am, of what sparks that innate flame that is Ruthie. Why am I moved by art? Why am I passionate about waking up and experiencing life? Why is creativity my path? These are the things that I need to come back to, what brings me home. So I wander along the river where I spend my Sunday afternoons, with notebook, i-pod and whatever book I'm ingesting. Then, whether it be some dear friend who feels that same spark or a kindred spirit I don't even know, some one is there...to inspire and to ignite. Wow. You dear ones will never know how I need you... please keep creating, inspiring and living artful lives.

And, impasse cleared, I'm back to blogging, hoping to bring a little inspiration to the world myself. Don't forget to check out A Path To My Woods too, which is basically my blog about the path...my spiritual journey and all the questions and ideas overflowing along the way.

On a side note...if you love Smallville or if you've never seen it, take a minute to check out Allison Mack's blog. I stumbled across it in a moment of fate and have been inspired and encouraged by the heart of this young woman and her passion for art and all things creative and compassionate.

August has been a month of craziness and exhaustion...and yet, I'm at a blank right now. The kids start school tomorrow so I'm hoping to catch a break, start getting to sleep earlier, rising earlier. We all need some structure in our lives.

Does the end of summer feel this way for everyone? Fall is such a welcome season, a cool breeze, some fresh air...just the thought of it is invigorating. Spring and Fall seem to bring us alive again, offer relief from the extremes of Winter and Summer...a brief interlude of balance.

What I need is a corner....a new view, a fresh perspective, a coming home. Yes. Little by little, excitement for the days ahead creeps in. It's the same weariness I feel at the end of the cold, dark months. Prospects of Spring breathe new life...offer a burst of something new. A corner...a corner home.

Have you ever driven over a hilltop and watched the horizon display the welcome view of home? I have. Some things change over time, but the feeling doesn't. When I moved a thousand miles from my home town, I learned that it really is true...there's no place like home, that place where your heart is at ease. Each place that we make a life has it's own memories, it's own feel. There's no place I'm more comfortable than at home. But now, when we make the trek back to the little town I grew up in, when we come over the hill and see the familiar places of my youth, something happens. Memories and feelings come flooding back. People, places...these are reminders of who I am, where I come from. I must admit, though, when we pull into our driveway at our own house after a very long drive back, the relief and comfort is overwhelming...it's good to be home.

But the corner home I'm looking for now is the one that leads inward, the one that reminds me of my first home...the place I long for most.

LOL

A few days ago, I was trying to herd my crew into bed and discovered my two little girls creating some interesting contraptions in their room. I walked in and they handed me one that they had been testing out on each other. "Mom, we invented a hypnotizing machine!" "Hmmmn," I thought, "This could be useful." The amazing thing was that, for the most part, the machine was a success. I just waved it over Sophie's head and chanted, "To bed I said, 'til morning lights upon your head!" And sure enough, she went to bed, giggling. Sarah, however, only responded to Samuel's hypnotizing, sooo....no such luck. Instead, I got a lot of silly dancing until I finally convinced Sam to send her off to bed. :)

Today over dinner, I asked my four-year-old, "How are you feeling today, Sarah?" Her totally straight-faced response, "I feel like a moose is eating me."

In the van, after a quick trip out in our jammies to return some rented videos, I mentioned that Grandma is coming over tomorrow so we can do something fun together. Sophie piped up from the backseat, "Hey, maybe we'll play some poker!" You must understand that neither Luke nor I have a clue how to play poker...and I'm pretty sure Grandma doesn't either. LOL

Have a cheerful day, loved ones!!

The One That Is Writing Me

Perusing the writing section at Borders recently, I came across an interesting looking book, one of the who-knows-how-many written by successfully published writers, for writers like myself. I don't remember the title or the author, but I do remember the first bit of advise: Don't tell ANYONE you are a writer or anything hinting at writing a book. I paused...a little surge of panic. I've been calling myself a writer, out loud, to people...for years. And then, the worst of it. My last blog entry...I announced to the whole world, well, to my very few loyal readers that I was working on a book. Oh geez, I really blew it. This author warned that I should tell no one...not my mother, not my husband or friends, especially not my children, who would roll their eyes in embarrassment. I would mark myself as a crazy dreamer, a fool. I put the book back on the shelf. Too late for that one.

So what about the book I mentioned in my last blog, the one I was meant to write? Let me elaborate, since, apparently, I've already crossed into the dangerous territory of labeling myself as a writer, perhaps I can alienate myself a bit more. The truth is, the book...it really is the one that is writing me. I've never had any serious aspirations to become a published author. Blogging covers that need to be heard pretty fully. Sure, it would be nice to get paid for doing what you love, but the point is, I don't need it...and that is a great feeling. I love my labels: wife, mommy, friend, writer, dishwasher, under-the-cushions-stuff-vaccumer, but I also realize all these things are as transient as the moment. So I love them, but try not to cling to them. Writing is simply how I live...it's been that way for a very long time now. What I experience and how I grow seeps into my writing. And sometimes, even more poignant, the writing is the experience. That's what I'm talking about. I'm not sure I can explain it in any other way. This book that is writing me is one of my crazy, intentional ideas...an adventure in creative non-fiction...an attempt to observe, question, document, and grow as a writer, as a person, all while savoring the words and art of it.

The joy is in the writing, and in walking, and in tickling, and in sipping a hot cup of tea. The joy is in folding blueberries into a bowl of wholegrain muffin batter. The joy, my dears, is in now, and now and now. When I forget, the pool of water pouring off the table ruffles my joy. The moments of quarreling children and tantrums overwhelm me. These moments, too, are the way of it. And these are the ones that are writing me, as I am writing this post.

So there you have it, the dreaming writer's life and the book I was meant to write. Now you can roll you eyes. :)

The One I Was Meant To Write

This morning I'm making pancakes...right this very minute. Isn't that awesome? These words are coming to you straight from my kitchen counter top, in between pancake flips and table-setting. And who, you may ask, is responsible for this wonder of wonders? Someone who thought giving me a little pink laptop computer would help me to "blossom."

Now the kids and I have finished our breakfast, so this Saturday morning calls me and my laptop outside. You know your husband has been mowing the lawn when the kiddy pool is perched awkwardly atop the play fort. I spend many mornings and evenings after the kids are in bed, sitting on the deck or on my front porch with my little computer. Lately, Sunday has become my day out. A few hours to myself is always something to look forward to. I've been dreaming for several years of taking this kind of time for myself, but have had a difficult time pulling myself away, leaving my whole crew to fend for themselves (and also a little nervous about how the house will look when I return.) Once again, the giver of my pink laptop has priorities...I have noticed. Last Sunday, exhausted after returning from vacation, and a little emotionally overwhelmed, I was not in the best of moods. I certainly didn't feel like writing. After a few hours of making myself 'busy' around the house and ranting about why I really don't have time to go, my husband said, "you are going!" and saw me to the door. The funny thing is that I have been talking for years about taking time like this, but when he finally asked me, "What can I do to help you blossom?", I needed his help to get over myself enough to just walk out the door. Honestly, I love being loved by him.

I'm developing an affair, however, with Tim Hortons lattes...he pushed me to it. I tuck my little computer in my backpack and head of for some quiet time. I love sitting with my mug of coffee, soothing music on my ipod, writing away at my table in the corner. It's the book I'm working on...the one I affectionately call, "the one I was meant to write." And it may very well be that, in truth, this is the one...that is writing me.

Thankful Thursday: Sunsets, Children To Watch Them With and Friends Who Inspire Us to Live Our Best

Today I cleaned my house. I cleaned it with enthusiasm and even a hint of joy. Then I sat with my son and listened to him tell me about the first four original Superman comics. At about 8:20 p.m., I loaded my jammie-clad children in the van and chased the sunset west. We found a perfect view, parking on the edge of a dirt road next to a vast sunflower field, just newly blossomed, and watched the sun slip below a distant line of trees. Of course, the mood was interrupted more than once with "I'm thirsty," "I'm hot" and "I want to go home." But we endured, returning home radiant and playful and together.

I love sunsets...they are one of my all-time favorite things. We all want to live like this everyday, fully and freely. What would it be like to live life with open arms and open hearts...to chase sunsets and other spectacular things...to walk in the woods...to smile because you can? I am so so thankful for the dearest of friends who's kind words were enough to inspire the very best in me today. Thank you for remembering who I am even when I forget!

Keep the Field Guide in the Circle!

If you have read the Spiderwick Chronicles or indulged in the movie, like us, you would know the necessity of keeping the Field Guide within the protective circle. It is critical to your survival. My children know this well. In spite of their knowledge of pixies, sprites, trolls, goblins and such, they persist in taking their own copy of Arthur Spiderwick's Field Guide, outside of the barrier...a mistake I myself have warned them about. A few weeks ago, they and the neighbor girls, who are also well aware of the dangers, unwarily carried the Field Guide out of the protective parameters encircling the house. They had taken all the necessary precautions of salting the windowsills and packing plenty of tomato sauce, besides the crackers and honey, but somehow forgot the enchanted circle. I was busy doing dishes when I paused to look out the window, then ran to the back door. "Whatever you do," I yelled, "don't take the Field Guide outside of the circle!" They looked up at me with shocked, somewhat guilty expressions. I actually was hoping to get a laugh out of them. Sophie was the first to confess, "We dropped it in the pool, it's all wet." This was too perfect. I couldn't help but indulge myself in the game, and hopefully salvage it for the kids who were a little down about the shape of the book. "That's what happens," I playfully scolded, "when you take the Field Guide out of the circle. It was the goblins, wasn't it?" They took the bait without skipping a beat, explaining breathlessly and in detail the great struggle that took place between them and the goblins and how the book had finally ended up at the bottom of the inflatable kiddy pool, giggles, sparkling eyes and knowing grins ensuing. The book was gently laid out to dry in the sunshine, happy children, happy mama, savoring the pure joy of make-believe, all still quite certain that we have heard skittering in the walls.

Thankful Thursday: the good stuff

I woke up Wednesday morning at 5:30 am in a tent to Ruby's joyful and surprised exclamation, "Bids sing, Mom! Bids sing songs!" You must understand that those weeks when your child begins to really grasp language are some of the most delightful and entertaining you will ever experience. My littlest jewel is expressing in language the thoughts that have been forming over the past two years...and I am loving getting to know her in this sweet new way! Not only has she informed me on the bird's morning songs, but she has also learned to ask for coc-lac milp, pop-icles, and has warned me in song to "wats out" for "pireman." I am, of course, always diligent to watch out for Spiderman. She is so wise.

Lightsaber Squirrels

I told you something good was coming....

Comment Graphics and Myspace Layouts at pYzam.com

If you didn't read the squirrel story, you must: That's so Weird

neglectful

Yes, I've been a bit neglectful of my blogs lately. Usually when I start forgetting about my blogs, it is a good sign...a sign that something good is simmering. It's a sign that I am happy and loving now and now and now. Usually. Thankfully, this is one of these times. I'm not ready to write everything down here yet but I do plan to try and keep my Thankful Thursday posts going. Today, I just want to say how thankful I am for certain friends in my life who just "get me," and like me too. That's a great asset and one that makes life sweeter.

"Hang Spring Cleaning!"

"The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home...Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said "Bother!" and "O blow!" and also "Hang spring-cleaning!" and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously....So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged, and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, "Up we go! Up we go!" till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow."

~The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame~

Sweet Sophie turns Seven!

Here's to Sophie, my very favorite seven-year-old. She's a burst of sunshine in our lives! Here's the big sister teaching Sarah her "Nintergarten" lessons (Nintergarten is the class she's teaching Sarah before Kindergarten. :)
And here's the beautiful gal enjoying the outdoors on our hike yesterday. She asked me if we could move closer to these woods so she could ride her bike here and play all the time in the trees and brush that make such great hideouts. :) She's really in her element in nature...I love to see that!

Peter and the Pixies

Again, yes we do believe...notice in the first picture, Peter is employing pixie-dust to hover above the little fairies. I found the Peter Pan costume at the Salvation Army (the girls called it the "Celebration Army" for the longest time :) They've gotten well over two dollars worth of play out of it!

Thankful Thursday: Infectious Smiles

I'm thankful for infectious smiles and the people behind them who inspire me to spread smiles too. It is true that smiles are contagious and they are good for you too!
Since I walk my children back and forth to school everyday, I am met with a large variety of faces on the playground and in the school every morning and afternoon. There are a few teachers and children in particular whose smiles are a dose of sunshine even on overcast mornings and I am always glad to smile back.
I have found myself growing in this practice too. Funny how people in this country are so disarmed by eye contact and a warm smile. Many don't expect that kind of reception from family, much less a stranger any more. We busy ourselves walking through crowds of people, and yet we are in our own little worlds.
My intent to smile is not only an offering of warmth to those around me, but also a reminder to myself that none of us are alone. It is a gift that says, "I see you." It is a chance to remember the connection between us all and to allow a genuine love and sensitivity to our fellow travelers to grow. For me, extending a genuine smile is a practice in becoming and drawing others, if just for a moment, into that experience.
Thank you to all you contagious smilers out there!
First posted January 4, 2007 on A Path to My Woods

For the Beauty of the Earth

That's so weird...or The Squirrel Story

I pondered posting this story last week under the title of, Thankful Thursday: Rakes Left Out in a Handy Place. But I decided this one was just too weird to post on TT. In fact, I decided I needed a little time to recoup from this one before writing about it, because I have to admit, it is one of the weirdest things I've ever experienced....and I still feel a little skittish about squirrels.

It happened last Thursday night that our whole family was walking home from a school program that my older two children participated in. (It was really cute by the way...Sophie danced so sweetly and Sam rocked out to the beat standing up on the risers...he was hilarious. I can't wait to get him on the drums :) Anyway, Sam, Sophie, Sarah and myself were walking down the sidewalk, nearly home. Luke (who had the keys in his pocket) and Ruby were lagging behind a couple houses back.

We came upon a neighbor walking his dog...a large dog. As we went to pass, a squirrel came out of nowhere right up to the dog. Normally you would think a dog would start barking and going after the little critter, but that did not happen. The dog backed off, nervously. At first we all kind of laughed, commenting on how we had never seen such a bold squirrel. Then the neighbor, getting nervous about this confrontation between dog and tree-rodent, took off for home. This is when the craziness started. Luke told me later that our neighbor had passed him and said something like, "I've never seen a dog so afraid of a girl" It wasn't until after this weird incident happened that he realized the man had said "squirrel" not "girl."

As our neighbor moved down the street, Luke was still far behind and had no idea what was going on. I shuffled the kids on to the front deck to wait for Luke to unlock the door. The squirrel followed us, jumped on the lattice work and started up the deck. At this point, we were all getting pretty freaked out. We made a break for the back yard. The squirrel chased us all the way back!! Okay, this is really weird, I thought. Since the doors were LOCKED and the keys were in LUKE'S POCKET and he had NO IDEA what was going on, I told the kids to climb up on the swing set platform and grabbed the aforementioned Handy-Rake to fend off this crazy squirrel.
Seriously, picture it....the squirrel is repeatedly coming after me, growling (yes, growling), and trying to get up to the kids, the kids are crying and yelling, I'm fending the critter off with a rake, flipping it into the air a couple of times, trying to retain my composure and comfort the kids. It was insane. My husband, by the way is inside, thinking we had gone out back to play for a while...he did not hear me calling...I was trying not to get the kids too worked up. Finally he comes to the back door to let our little dog out. I'm standing there with the rake, yelling "Get Oliver inside!!!" The kids are crying. The squirrel is attacking. At first Luke thinks I'm making a bigger deal out of the whole thing than necessary, then after a moment's reflection, he realizes...this squirrel is NUTS! (lol) He got the dog in and ran down to the rescue. While Luke took over Handy-Rake duties, I picked up each of the kids separately, running them into the house. When I went to take Sarah, the squirrel was under the back deck stairs, so I made a break for the front door...It took out CHASING us all the way! I put Sarah in and ran back...still chased by the squirrel! I'm thinking of course, "Rabid Squirrel!!!." Finally, we all got in.

We waited a while and Luke took Ollie out to piddle...Rake in hand. Animal Control was closed so I called them the next day and tried to explain this scenario. All I got was,
"That was a mother squirrel. She must have a nest nearby."
I tried again to emphasis the beyond-normal aggressiveness of this squirrel. Nothing...she was entirely unalarmed, uninterested.
"That's what mother's do," she said flatly.
"Ookay, thanks, bye."
Haven't seen the squirrel since...well at least, if we have it was much better behaved. Maybe it was just a really, really, really over-protective mother. We've all met one. I don't know...I'm just sayin'.

All I could think was, "RABIES!!"

It was weird...it was really weird.

Just for Joy

I'm not the kind of person who really enjoys shopping and rarely buy things on a whim, but I was at the Dollar Tree with my hubby the other day looking for a giant bubble wand and a gag gift when I ran in to this little guy.
I couldn't help but smile...he's just so darn jovial. Then I picked him up and instinctively gave his little plastic case a small squeeze...and found myself laughing out loud at the combination of the faint popping sound and the frolicking clown inside. So for a buck, I brought him home. My kids were as impressed with him as I was and have found endless delight in his popping case. Then the unmentionable happened...removed from his case, the little glass clown slipped from Sarah's fingers and broke. I felt a sudden twinge of irritation and the urge to scold her...remembering then that I had also purchased some super glue, I scooped up the clown and in moments our joy purchase was again standing atop his ball making us all smile. I've glued him once more since then, but we're all still smiling.

A lesson in impermanence...everything changes. Glass breaks. Joy can be found in simple things outside ourselves. But lasting joy? That comes from within.

The Picture Post :)

Back from Vacation

I'm ready for a vacation. We arrived home from our zippy Spring Break trip to Florida on Monday at about 2:30 am. The past week has been spent trying to recuperate, getting the kids back and forth to school, avoiding an everest-sized pile of laundry that I've been transferring repeatedly from floor to bed and back, wondering aimlessly around a big city trying to get to a doctor's appointment for my four-year-old, and blowing my nose raw. I keep asking myself, "Did we just go to Disney World?" Whoa...did I miss that or what?

Yes, we drove a long long way. We played in the water, visited Neverland (which Sophie proclaimed as a dream come true), explored Mickey's house and the Hundred Acre Woods, Ooohed and Aaahed at the parade and fireworks. We went on Safari at the Animal Kingdom where Samuel rode his first roller coaster. Then spent a day at Sea World. The shark exhibit was a hit with the older two and we all got a bang out of Clyde and Seamore (at the seal show.) I'm always in awe of the beluga whale exhibit...incredible. I have to admit though, the new Shamu show had me holding back tears a few times...a beautiful tribute to Mother Earth and our connection with all the creatures of our blue planet.

Then we drove back home. Home is good.

Thankful Thursday: Children's Motrin and Toddler Chatter

My kids have been sick this week. Poor Sophie started complaining about a headache Sunday night and has had a fever off and on since, followed by a flaming sore throat and earache. Sarah climbed up in my lap on Tuesday afternoon and said, "I think I have a fever." She was asleep within minutes in my arms. We went to the doctor yesterday...the throat swabs came back negative for strep throat, but I'd be surprised if the culture results told the same story. I am so thankful for Children's Motrin and Tylenol...I know my girls are too.

During weeks like this one, a bit of light-hearted humor does a lot for the soul. Ruby (19 mo.) is always willing to comply. Her toddler chatter is so funny. If you ask her what her name is right now she will always respond with a smile and "Googay." Yesterday she was nursing while I sat at the computer. She stopped and said, "No...no nurse." Pausing for a moment, then, "Okay...nurse," picking up where she left off. I'm thankful for toddler chatter...it's a sign that she's growing up, yes...and nursing my baby will not last much longer...a reminder to laugh and enjoy the fleeting time because baby is growing up.

Thankful Thursday on Friday Morning

Last night after getting the kids settled, I laid in bed thinking about gratitude. Even though I was just too exhausted to write my TT post, it was such a good feeling to fall asleep thinking about all the things to be thankful for in my day. I'm glad I fell asleep before I could write last night, because I woke up this morning still thinking about what I'm thankful for. The first sound I heard was my children's happy voices and the toy radio that plays backyardigans tunes. I could picture Ruby in the girls' room dancing to the music (she is in love with that radio). Sophie and Sarah were chattering about their plans for the day. Sarah is always thrilled to have Sophie home from school...a long weekend is like heaven to her. Samuel ran up the stairs all excited to let the girls know that he was the first one up (even after staying awake until midnight to finish the second Harry Potter book.) I took a deep cleansing breath, smiled and reached for my laptop...did I mention that my new computer is basically book-sized? It fits in my purse and has a keyboard that is pretty easy to maneuver with a little practice...also, it's pink.;) Sitting in my bed, I began to type this post. Ruby walked in carrying her Elmo cellphone...
"Ello? Ello?"
The phone was propped between her shoulder and ear. The call was for me, so I took it,
"Hello? Hi...oh you want to talk to Ruby? Just a minute. They want to talk to you, Ruby-Jewely."
"Ello? Ello? Oh by-by Bapa"
Is there really a better way to wake up?

This morning my life feels charmed. Now I'm sitting in my kitchen at my teeny-tiny desk with my laptop charging as I write, tapping my foot to Colby Caillat singing a Bubbly song. My girls are in time-out over a dispute about whether unicorns fly or not...a disagreement that culminated with a few slugs. Sarah's crying in the corner, whining, "It's taking a long time, Mommy."
I peak around the corner and say,"Sarah, you are not supposed to be talking. You are supposed to be thinking about how to treat your sister with love and kindness."
"I already did thaaaat."
"You did? Are you ready to make things right?"
"Yeeeessss."
Of course, "sorrys" and hugs follow.
"Sophie, do you think you can give your sister a little liberty to use her imagination to make her unicorn fly?"
"But unicorns don't fly."
"Don't you have a Pegasus somewhere that Sarah can use?"
Sarah, crying again, "My pants are backwards...and they won't stay uuuuuuup!"
"Ponies and pants, Ponies and pants!" I run upstairs to find the My Little Pony hat box and some pants that will cheer Sarah.

Everybody's happy now...I sweep up the Jewel and swing her around the kitchen accompanied by the i-pod bellowing "I'm Walking On Sunshine!" In return, I get filled to the brim with joyful toddler squeals and laughter. As I sit back down to write, Sophie runs in, "Mommy, look!" She proudly displays her newly acquired snapping skills. "Way to go, Sophie!" Ruby enters, "bowl, Mama, bowl."
"You want a banana, Rubes? Banana...naner, naner, naner!" (I'm singing now.) Ruby says, "Naner, naner, no no no." She wants chocolate chips. The i-pod now accompanies the moment, "...when you've only got a hundred years to live." How charmed is my life?

It's all in perspective, you know. My mornings aren't always like this. Well, they are, only I don't always see it this way. Today, I woke up thankful. I woke up awake...present to the moment.
Somedays all the noise and choas are overwhelming and I just want some peace...the joy is lost on me and everything seems like a drudgery. I miss it all...all the spirit and music mixed in with sibling arguments and whining. But today, I did not. Today, I chose...chose to be awake and thankful. And that made all the difference.

My Mom's Surprise

I don't think my Mom will mind me sharing that she is a perpetually young-at-heart sixty-eight year-old. My mom loves Disney World and roller coasters...Shes been to both Disney World and Disneyland at least once...and as many times (if not more) without children as with. Her enthusiasm for joy-chasing is refreshing. She often likens herself to Tigger, which I would fully agree with. You either, like Roo, go along for the ride, or like Rabbit, try to lose her in the woods. Which is okay, as long as you drop her in my woods. Trouble is, she's hard to lose. And after a while of walking by yourself, you realize how much you appreciate her bouncing. After all, Tigger's not Tigger without his bounce.

Mom just never forgot all the youthful joy in life. She still enjoys sitting up late singing all the songs from girl scout camp at Turkey Creek, where she spent so many summers known as "Little Turtle." I know, because I've sat up late singing with her...she remembers way more songs than I do. Did you know that "Seikooc" is 'cookies' spelled backwards? (That's pronounced See-ko-wok for all you un-kansas-non-girl-scouters.) And I know watching a good old clip of Shirely Temple or Fred Astaire tapping makes her want to jump up and do a few steps herself...she's still that little gal who taught tap-dance in the studio her dad built. She's also the mom of six kids and grandma to 29 grandchildren.

Mom not only plays the piano, but she also taught herself the accordian and loves the tambourine. In fact, she bought Sarah and me our own tambourines when we were young. I joined right in with Mom, standing in the pews beating my tambourine to "I'll Fly Away." Maybe that's where my love of percussion came from...I know Mom's influence was a big part of my love for music. I started playing the snare drum in the 5th grade. Later, Dad gave in and bought me an old drumset. Mom came to all our school band concerts, tape recorder in hand, to hear Sarah on the flute, me on percussion. I enjoyed the orchestra bells and marimba, but I loved playing the drums.

I passed my drums on to my younger brother then to my nephew after leaving for college. My nephew is way better than I ever was. I've played a drumset maybe once in the past 10-plus years, moving on to fiddling with the piano and guitar...a bit more *mature* instruments, especially for a mom and wife. But just like Mom's tapping, I can't help but get a little antsy inside when I hear some great drumming. I've always said drumming is like dancing. A few nights ago, I dreamt I was playing the drums...I was really good, way better than I ever was in real life. It was so fun...like August Rush banging on that guitar...pure joy.

Funny enough, my Mom called me yesterday. The conversation (if not exactly in this order) went something like this:

Mom: "I've been thinking about you. I keep checking my answering machine to see if you've called."
Me: "I've been thinking about you too, trying to put my calendar into my new computer. Are you really going to be 69 this year, Mom?
Mom: "Yes, 69 this year."
Me: "Wow...Guess what...your birthday is on Hannakuh."
Mom: "Hannakuh...hey, that's neat."
Mom: "I'm sitting here at the computer and I found a drumset that is usually $569.00 and is on clearance for $199.99. That's a good deal. It's the company that I buy my tambourines from."
Me: "That is a good deal."
Mom: "Would you like to have a drumset?"
Me (laughing): "Are you kidding, I'd love a drumset...Luke almost got me one for Christmas, but he wasn't sure where we'd put it."
Mom: "Do you have a place for one?"
Me (Still laughing): "If I had a drumset, you know I'd find a place for it...I think the foosball table would have to go."
Mom: "How would you feel if I got you one?"
Me: "I'd probably cry."
Mom: "They have a blue one and a red one...what color would you want?"
Me (again, laughing): "What? Are you for real? I guess the blue one."
Mom: "Oh, wait, the blue one is a hundred dollars more."
Me: "For two hundred dollars, who cares what color it is!"
Mom: "The red one's really pretty. Wait, I can email you this website."
Me: "I like the red one better!"
Mom: "Okay, I'm ordering it...they'll send it to your house. You'll have to play it for me over the phone when you get it and when I come up this summer."
Me: "This is so funny..." I relay the dream I had just a couple of nights before this conversation.
Mom: "Well, I've been thinking about you and your drums lately. I did really well on my last book fair and I have some extra money...I've been blessed and I just wanted to bless you."
Me: "Thank you, Mom...thank you, so much."

Sometimes when you grow up, you forget your bliss...those simple things that are so innately you...that bring you such joy. Every once in a while I'm reminded and I step out of the everyday "grown up" world that I've created around myself and I let myself go back to just being "me." Because that little gal banging on the tambourine, belting out "I'll Fly Away" is still me.

I've always been told that I'm a lot like my mom. It's true, I am. Next month, we're going to Disney World. I thought I'd send Luke on the roller coasters with the kids, but you know, I think I'd like a good roller coaster ride...I need a dose of Disney.

Thanks Mom, for keeping me young...I hope my kids will be able to see the same young heart in me someday when I turn 69.

Thankful Thursday: Growing Children

I'm not the only one growing up. Sarah and I visited one of the local elementary schools today for the kindergarten round-up. As we walked up to the school doors she said to me very seriously, "I'm a little nervous." Sarah won't be five until October, so I'm a little nervous, too...not that she won't do well...I'm confident that she's ready. It's just me...I'm not so sure that I'm ready to see her all growing up like that on me. We walked around the gym visiting each table, and I watched her interact with the teachers, gaining more and more confidence along the way. I could tell it was sinking in with her just like it was with me...however I feel about it, she's growing up.

Truthfully, I couldn't be more pleased. After all, that's the game plan. Couple has baby, holds and loves baby, baby grows up....shortened version, of course. I have been thinking about this, anyway. My children do not belong to me. They come through me, not from me. Yes, I am their mother, but before I recognize them as my children, I recognize them as radiant souls...on a journey of their own...with much wisdom to offer me, as well. None of us are perfected, but we have the honor of traveling together. I have the privilege of being their mother...of loving them in a way I love no others...of growing through the unique challenges only a mother can understand.

I'm thankful to be able to see my children grow, but also thankful to share their shaping with other beautiful, caring people whom I have come to trust and appreciate not only as teachers, but as friends.

When I Grow Up

Over the years I have discovered that only a few things bring me immense personal satisfaction and joy. I'm talking here about what Joseph Campbell refers to when he says "follow your bliss." For me that bliss is definitely in the creative area. Though I've enjoyed many avenues of self-expression through art, music, drama, nothing stirs me like the written word. I can't even really explain the feeling I get when I write something...create something with words...that I love. That is why I write. And why I look at everything I write as practice for when I grow up. I'm in no hurry...I'm just strolling along after my bliss. I'm getting to know me...which isn't so bad.

Thankful Thursday: 9 years

I just have to add that I am so thankful for 9 years with this guy. Being his mom has been a trip. He's the one I mark my mommy years with...my first baby and my one and only son. I could go on and on about how smart and sensitive this kid is and how proud I am of him. I'm just really glad to be on the receiving end of so much charm, wit, silliness and wisdom in the form of Sam. Happy Birthday, Samuel J.!

Thankful Thursday: Infectious Smiles

I'm thankful for infectious smiles and the people behind them who inspire me to spread smiles too. It is true that smiles are contagious and they are good for you too! Since I walk my children back and forth to school everyday, I am met with a large variety of faces on the playground and in the school every morning and afternoon. There are a few teachers and children in particular whose smiles are a dose of sunshine even on overcast mornings and I am always glad to smile back. I have found myself growing in this practice too. Funny how people in this country are so disarmed by eye contact and a warm smile. Many don't expect that kind of reception from family, much less a stranger any more. We busy ourselves walking through crowds of people, and yet we are in our own little worlds. My intent to smile is not only an offering of warmth to those around me, but also a reminder to myself that none of us are alone. It is a gift that says, "I see you." It is a chance to remember the connection between us all and to allow a genuine love and sensitivity to our fellow travelers to grow. For me, extending a genuine smile is a practice in becoming and drawing others, if just for a moment, into that experience. Thank you to all you contagious smilers out there!

First posted January 4, 2007 on A Path to My Woods

Way Off Topic

I have this thing about words...maybe it's because I'm a writer...a word-lover of sorts. Most of my favorite words are elegant and sophisticated like aesthetics or magnanimous...endure, elusive, embellish, eccentric (lovely e-words.) Words...words like...surreal and....inspire. Nothing moves me quite like the perfect word.
But I have a secret.
I love the word dig. As in "I dig that" or "I'm diggin this." As in "I was really diggin it the first time I heard Joss Stone's song, Super Duper Love (I'm Diggin on You)." I usually reserve usage of this word for conversations with my husband, whom I love and trust, and who occasionally also expresses that he "digs" certain things. Admittedly, I employ this unintelligent-sounding, simplistic slang-word quite often when in trusted company. Being a big thesaurus and dictionary fan, I pulled out Webster's Collegiate and found this among it's definitions for the word "dig /dig/ vb 6 a: to pay attention to : notice b: understand, appreciate c: like, admire " That's what I'm saying...I'm diggin the word dig. Are you surprised, bewildered? Everything is going to be okay. This morning I flipped on the ipod and danced my 7-month-old around the kitchen to Super Duper Love....she was diggin it too. Nothing says I love you like "Yeh are you diggin on me Yeh yeh yeh Im diggin on u now baby...See im trying to tell you Your love is super duper Super yes it is yes it is Your love is Your love is super Are you diggin on me coz im diggin on you Im just trying to tell you Oh this love is super duper..."
So there you go...I'm out about the whole word thing...whooo, I feel better now! :)

First posted March 15, 2007 on A Path to My Woods

China TVs

The volume level at our table was really loud last night. Four excited kids trying to talk over each other about upcoming vacation prospects created more chaos than I like at dinner. I typically prefer peaceful coversation highlighted with polite children saying "excuse me" and waiting patiently for their turn to talk. Last night I got excited, happy, laughing, loud kids. I can handle that trade up much better than tired, fussy, crying, loud kids. So, playing along, I suggested we pretend to have volume controls like the TV. Sam and Sophie played along. Sarah just looked at me, not so easily convinced. Then I asked if they had mute buttons. Sam quickly turned his mute on so that when I pushed the button it would 'unmute' him. I asked Sarah if she had a mute button. She said, "No, I'm pretending to be a China TV"

So, apparently, China TV's don't have mute buttons.

Another Blogging Note :)

A Path to My Woods is back...reading over so many previous posts from the path, I just couldn't put down the concept of my double blogging life as easily as I thought I could. I am laying down the xanga, however, to consolidate here at blogger...because I like it here :) So if you are interested in reading more about my path, check out the new link under Friendly Bloggers or just click here: awakeinyou.blogspot.com

love, love, love...
~R

Sarah's Prize

Last night Sarah and Sophie were playing a game of "Knock Over The Soldier Guys With Bouncy-Balls." Sarah won and celebrated her victory by running in circles and yelling excitedly, "I won, I won, I won!!" So I said (just as enthusiatically, by the way), "Yay Sarah! Guess what your prize is? You get to help pick up all the Lincoln Logs!!! Hooray!" She just looked at me for a second and without skipping a beat said, "No, I cheated, I cheated!" Of course, this was followed by hearty laughter on my part and a lot of tickling. :)

YouTube

It's official...I am entering the world of YouTube... mostly to share video with friends and family far away. Here's the first experiment with my new EeePC webcam:

Take a Closer Look!

Everybody scroll down and click on the picture of my sister's family now that I've fixed the link to enlarge it....it's worth an up-close look (: Have a great day!

Sam's Two Cents

Last night my husband was talking with our son, who recently announced that he was no longer as interested in reading as he used to be. They were discussing the importance of knowledge when Samuel said seriously, "That's interesting because Albert Einstein said 'Imagnination is more important than knowledge.' " We couldn't argue with that one. I think he's doing just fine.

Thankful Thursday: Beautiful Souls

Note: I know it's not Thursday, but I wanted to post this older post from my other blog today...thanks for being patient while I slip these in :)

Over the years I have been blessed with many dear friends, but a few seem to have made a really special place for themselves in my heart. As I have grown, changed, moved and moved again, different people have come and gone, leaving lasting impressions with their unique presence in my life. Some of those old friends are far away now, some new friends are near, but they each have something special that I cherish and appreciate about them...something that makes me particularly aware of God's hand in putting them my life. These are the beautiful people who have made me realize lately just how very connected we are and how much we need each other.

I have a friend who is a writer at heart...we've been friends since our late teens. She's seen my best...and my worst through those akward "trying to grow-up years." We live in different states now, far apart. We both have families and our own little worlds. But still, when I'm feeling my most inspired as a writer, she is the one I write to. She is the one who shares those "Anne-ish" qualities that sometimes haunt me, and drive me into the dreamy world of words and stories and the ability to be mesmerized by a certain hue in the sunset or the glistening of sunshine in a drop of dew. She's a kindred.

I have another old friend who recently came back into my world. She is sensitive in the truest way and I have come to cherish and honor her as a growing person whom I can trust and admire on the journey. Let me just share this quote from author Wayne Teasdale, "Sensitivity is...an attribute of presence to others. It is the ability to be fully there for others, without any agendas. This sensitive presence is able to respond through deep listening--real listening with the heart to both what is said and left unspoken...Sensitivity, which is definitely a divine quality, is a form of selfless affection that is free of sentimentality. It is love transformed by divine union or enlightenment." I am blessed to have a friend whom I trust with my heart, someone who is an example of a person growing in the ability to truly see.

Neighbors can make your life sweeter or really test your character! My next door neighbor is one of the sweetest variety. She is thoughtful and kind and generous. I am thankful for dear new friends and God's way of putting people in our lives just when we need each other. That's so cool! I look forward to seeing our friendship grow!

First posted December 23, 2006 on A Path to My Woods

If Sophie Was President

I know my friend Kelli over at Searching Souls will especially appreciate this one. Sophie brought home this paper from school last week from their observation of Presidents Day. The question at the bottom reads, "If you were president, what is one thing you would change?" Her answer: "For in China pepole to have more kids."

It Will Grow

"When something is greening inside us, might it not be best to shelter the tender growth? Too much windy talk about what is going on or too much conscious sunlight can blast or kill the development of what is young and emerging...Spring is an ache. Buds swell on their branches. Bulbs cannot stay in their casings...The Spring of the soul hums and aches. Birthing is full of pain, full of fear, full of exquisite excitement. It must be carefully attended. It must also be left well enough alone. Whatever has the dynamism to develop cannot be stopped. It will grow. It will grow." ~Gunilla Norris, A Mystic Garden.

First posted April 12, 2007 on A Path to My Woods

Good Bye Little Hamster

We lost our little Charlie Thomas this week. He really was the sweetest and best hamster I have ever known. He brought our children so much joy in the 2 1/2 years we had him. We'll really miss the little guy.

New Arrivals!!

My twin sister and her family have had an exciting month. Just about a week ago they moved in three precious children they are adopting, and then yesterday morning their new family of eight was blessed once again to welcome a little baby sister!! I am very excited to meet all of our new neices and nephews!! Just take a look at this sweet family!

Congratulations Sarah and Tony and family!!!

Thankful Thursday: Everything.

Rumi, Pay Homage

If God said,
"Rumi, pay homage to everything
that has helped you
enter my
arms,"

there would not be one experience of my life,
not one thought, not one feeling,
not any act, I
would not
bow
to.

~Rumi~
(translation by Daniel Ladinsky,
Love Poems from God)

I thought this would be a good way to resurrect my Thankful Thursday posts. My children often sum up their prayers, whether at the dinner table or family time, with the words, "God, thank you for everything." A simple prayer, but I can't think of a better one. Simplicity, contentment, gratitude...finding grace in every moment, recognizing the Divine in it all.

Why Woods?

I love woods. I'm not exactly sure what the attraction is. Perhaps it's the innate mystery within those trees or just my love for nature and solitude, I just love woods. The draw is magnetic, alluring. I haven't been in the woods for a few years now...not since our first child was born and not by myself since I met my husband. Sometimes I really miss that quiet alone time in the woods with a notebook and Creator that I revelled in during my single-years in college. I always felt content and at peace...no questions, just beauty and poetry.Have you ever been lost in the woods...or just a bit disoriented? I remember a mountainside in Colorado, hiking with a friend. We weren't far from camp but far enough to be a little worried when we couldn't find our way back. It is easy to get turned around surrounded by a forest of trees. And it's more than a little scary when you can't find your way home. And as much a you love the woods...home sounds sooo good (and so far away.) We made it home, but not without many wrong turns and probably a few backtracks. (reminds me of Pooh, Piglet and Rabbit trying to find their way back out of the woods after trying to lose Tigger)Life is like that sometimes. I can feel very happy and contented in the beautiful woods, but after awhile I'm ready to go home. (Kind of like Alice, growing tired of nonsense after her adventures in wonderland, ready to go home, to embrace something sensible, to grow-up.) Here I am walking through my woods, happy and content with this comfortable place I love, but suddenly I begin to feel a little disoriented as unfamiliar sights come into view. And questions begin to rise...where am I really, what is the truth? The truth...it's like that ever illusive home that we all long for. And this journey, the woods I love. And all of a sudden we just want to know the way home. Because this journey is so much more beautiful when we know the way back home. So here is my journey...where I've been(walking in circles), my current steps and hopefully a little insite into where this path is leading...one post at a time.

First posted on A Path to My Woods, November 9, 2005

Acceptance

"Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life as they exist."

-Natalie Goldberg

I have been thinking about acceptance lately...about embracing all of life, good and bad, as simply life--my life, my portion. Not to say we cannot strive to grow, only that growth comes through these things, not by fighting them. We accept change as a natural part of life--flowing constantly, moving--changing. Can I accept my life as it is, and grow in the midst of this, my portion? Small hardships come and go. My life has brought it's share of disappointments and struggles. But in the journey I have grown to a place of acceptance--this is my life, my path...what will I learn...how will I grow? The question-- I can say to someone, "Embrace all of life as a beautiful opportunity to grow," but what if I was in their circumstance? What about tragic divorce? debilitating injury? financial bankruptcy? losing a loved one? Would I still be able to find the underlying joy? Would I still accept in peace and grow in spirit through it all, recognizing God's purposes for me? I must believe it is true that we will be given no more than we can handle. And I honor those who are growing through burdens that my knees would probably buckle under. What are your thoughts on Acceptance?

First posted on A Path to My Woods, Jan. 25, 2007