Miss Leah turns 3!

Just a quick snapshot of the birthday girl on the actual day. More to follow after this weekend when we have her Hip-Hip-Hippo birthday party!

Rolling pins and tears

(My grandma is shown below. She's the one with the bow.)














Isn't it interesting how some things are contagious: yawns, giggles coming from girls in sleeping bags, and sometimes grumpy, gritchy attitudes. I had a taste of that today. And it's pretty much all my fault. It began with a rolling pin...

Maya needed a rolling pin at school. In art class they were going to be working with clay. Each student needed to bring a rolling pin on Tuesday. As I pulled my rolling pin out of the pantry to hand to her, I questioned myself. My rolling pin was a bridal shower gift from my grandma. My grandma was so special to me. She lived literally "up the road" from our farmhouse. She was an ever-present member at holidays, harvest, birthdays, etc. She passed away six years ago and I miss her terribly. I miss her strong, quiet Christian presence, her no-nonsense Depression Era frugality, and her amazing apple pies made from apples she picked in her backyard. Both my mother and grandmother bake (or baked) pies. I remember watching my grandma rolling out the crust on her 1950's-era kitchen table; the way she put pats of butter atop the apples before laying on the top crust. So when I see a rolling pin, my mind goes straight to her. And as I grabbed my rolling pin, that I have treasured since my bridal shower, I thought to myself "nothing better happen to this today."

In Maya form (such a sharp cookie, such an absent-minded little rememberer), she used it on Tuesday, then forgot to bring it home that day. I'm sad to report, it was the first thing I asked her as she got into the car, falling even before "How was your day?" So I anxiously awaited her walking to the car with it today. And her face as she walked to the car told me the story. As she handed me the clay-caked rolling pin, my eyes went immediately to the scrapes, scratches and large dents that covered it.

Those tears you so very much want to hold back--the hot ones that start stinging your eyes and make your throat burn, started trickling down my face. The explanation she gave, "Mom, I just let one of the boys in class borrow it. He rolled it over the walls and things as we walked out" didn't seem to assuage the sadness, disappointment, and I will admit, anger, that I felt welling. As a mom, I don't have all that much "stuff." And I'm not really a "stuff" person to begin with. But items that contain memories are important to me. So I went down the path that I ought not to have gone. Before we even arrived home, Maya was in tears, Tess was wide-eyed and silent, and Leah was offering up kisses to anyone that would "make it better." The contagiousness of my ugly continued at home, and soon one child is crying in her room, the other two are arguing and engaged in an all-out brawl over a play tea set and I can't manage to keep myself from crying.

After a moment or two (and a quick prayer) I think I got it. My grandma isn't wrapped up in that rolling pin. My memories are. And no dent or scrape to the wood will take that away. The moral lessons I have gained from her and the memories of my childhood that she is woven into will not and cannot be lost, altered or ruined by a fourth grade boy bouncing this piece of baking equipment down the halls of school. The more I thought about it, Grandma would be thrilled that not only have I used the rolling pin she gave me, but Maya has as well. And that she had shared it with someone else in class.

There's something very humbling, but renewing, about apologizing to your child. As I cuddled up next to Maya as she laid sniffling on her bed, I explained to her that my tears were sadness for my Grandma being gone, not a rolling pin. But the memories I will keep. I asked her to forgive me for my rather emotional reaction and told her that I absolutely forgive her for the rolling pin coming home a bit altered. God models it so much better than I.

So this one is to Frieda. I'm lucky to be her grand-daughter. And to my daughter, Maya. I hope you bake pies. I hope you pass your rolling pin on to a daughter to dent up in school.

(This is Grandma, Grandpa, my aunt on the left, and my mom on the right...let me tell you about her pecan pies...)

Candy and cloth

Well, it's now 36 hours before Halloween and I feel as though I need a bit of confession time. So here I go...

I have eaten nearly 1/2 a bag (a big bag--a Sam's bag) of Halloween candy--a crime not altogether foreign for this holiday, but I've eaten it before Halloween. If I can't engage a wee bit of self-control now, when this candy that I'VE PURCHASED to hand out to the little dears can't be resisted, what about the multitude of delicious pumpkin-shaped Reese's peanut butter cups and mini-packs of KitKats that will soon flood my home? Ugg...not exactly a model of self-control to my children. Maybe next year...or next holiday...but have you noticed how many holidays we manage to celebrate in high-style with candy, sweets and goodies?

I can tackle some things in a timely fashion, and then there are those that get my constant back burner treatment. Anyone that knows me knows that scheduling a babysitter is at the top of that list, but I'm also learning that so does the completion of Halloween costumes. The topic has been discussed for months, the theme picked and yet I am at JoAnne's a mere 6 days before Halloween purchasing fabric. At this point I have 1-1/2 of the 3 Geisha costumes completed that I will need in 36 hours. And I will also mention that the overall construction, absentee pattern and sewing techniques that I have used would leave a home economics teacher quite speechless. So I'm sending out my sincerest apologies to Mrs. Polson. You taught me better. I might try to finish up tonight, but I've got a mini-Hershey's chocolate bar calling my name...

One more thing I'm behind on...

Sorry, Blogging World. I am delinquent. It would be one thing if I just haven't been on any blog at all--but I'm the worst kind of blogger...the kind that still reads my favs and then selfishly just goes to bed at night, without even a word to share with others. And I'm sure you've all just been hanging on my every syllable... Okay, maybe it's not that big of a crime. :)

Wordless Wednesday

So much for "wordless," but you know me...
Some parents' hearts may go pitter-patter when their
child scores a winning goal, but this is what makes
this Mama smile. Maya seen here sketching on a
4th grade field trip to the botanical gardens.

Firsts and Lasts

I've been thinking a lot lately of firsts and lasts. It's amazing how woven together these two things are, even though they are seemingly complete opposites. For example, this week I took Tess to kindergarten. A first. The kind of first that brings some 5-year old anxiety, a few tears from Mama, and an underlying sense of excitement and beginning. Or is it a last? The last time I'll have her here all day, upstairs humming Disney princess tunes while she colors for hours. The last time I'll have more children at home than I'll have at school. The last time her baby sister will spend each day with her, having someone to play with, look up to, and occasionally steal lip gloss from.

This same week, my mother retired from work. That's a last, right? The last time she has to report to work, the last time she has to calculate hours, request vacation leave and set an alarm. Or is it a first? The first time she can enjoy children and grandchildren with no work schedule to limit time? Is it a beginning or an end? As mothers, are these milestones beginnings or endings?

I can get rather weepy at thinking of the lasts...the last night in the hospital before we take them home...the last night they will sleep in the crib before graduating to a "big girl" bed...the last time they sooth themselves with a paci...the last time they call their big sister "Mymy" because they can't correctly pronounce "Maya." The way I see it, I have a heart-wrenching lifetime of lasts ahead of me as a mom. I can cry (which I have, and do, quite regularly) or I can try to savor what I have and plunge ahead with what is to come. So I'm going to view them as firsts.

This is the first time that Tess is going off to a full day of school, and what a wonderful opportunity, in a fabulous school, with a terrific teacher, it is. This year may be chocked full of firsts--Will she lose her first tooth? Will star in her first play? Will she play a new sport? Make a new friend? Become closer to God? Find a new hobby? Learn how to read? I hope so, and only by trusting in God and eagerly greeting each day will I find out.

Having said that, I'm not quite emotionally stable enough to have our bedtime reading include any of the following literature that adorns our bookshelves: Let Me Hold You Longer, The Night Before Kindergarten, or The Giving Tree and would be happy to loan them out to any Mama that is made of tougher reserves than I at this point.

Halfway to 70!

Well, it's birthday time again for me, and with this one I tip the hourglass closer to 40 than I am to 30. My dear brother called to remind me that I am now 1/2-way to 70. 70 is the new 60, 60 is the new 50, etc. so by the time that trickles down, I'm nearly 20 right? I've had 35 blessed years with a wonderful family and the great friends that God has put in my path. A good "old" friend of mine (in terms of years known, not years lived) had a wonderful idea to pay it forward and celebrate her 35th birthday by performing 35 random acts of kindness. She has been kind enough to post it on her blog, so I may just borrow some of her good ideas. What a great idea. So I vow to pay it forward with 35 acts of kindness to share my birthday celebration with others, even strangers. It will take a while, but I will keep accountable by posting it here on my blog.