"Bethalow"
I know. It's not a word. Not really...it's kind of a place......Let me enlighten you......
Last week Barb and I took Nils to school. On the hour long drive, we were listening to Christmas music....and Barb was singing along. She tends to do that. There was a song called, "Take a Walk through Bethlehem." It's a nice little song, basically saying that we should remember what Christmas is about and not get too caught up in the secular hoopla. Anyway, Barb was singing along...o.k., so was I......We sang the line, "take a walk through Bethlehem", and Nils said, " And hold Melody's hand."
Barb and I laughed and laughed. Nils knows that if we take a walk, he has to hold my hand. He's very smart. So the rest of the day we added that line to the song.
Yesterday I decided to take Nils and Annika for a walk since the temperature was fairly mild. I asked Nils if he wanted to go for a walk. Of course, he responded positively and enthusiastically. You can always count on Nils for enthusiasm!
"Take a walk," he said. "Take a walk to Bethalow."
Well, we didn't walk to "Bethalow"- we just went down the street, but I laughed (and sang) most of the way!
Friday, December 15, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
"Various Trials"
Sunday morning's message was taken from the book of James, chapter 1:
"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials......"
The basic point: We are to be joyful in any trial that comes our way, remembering that trials are a gift from God. Our response should not be complaining.
That was what I heard Sunday morning. This was the rest of my day:
I went home and ate lunch, then prepared to make a birthday cake for Barb. I looked at the recipe and realized that it called for "unsalted butter". I went to the fridge and saw 7 sticks of salted butter. O.k. Did it make a difference? I had no idea. What if I used the salted butter and the cake was way too salty? I didn't want to take the chance. I called my parent's house- no unsalted butter there. I called Barb's sister- no answer. I called work- ah, unsalted butter. I wouldn't have to go to the store. I hopped in the car and went to pick it up. I love the fact that I live so close to work.
I came back home and proceeded to soften the butter, then went to the fridge to get the eggs. I needed 4 eggs- I had 1 egg. Wonderful. I went and put my shoes back on, climbed back in the car and drove to the nearest store. Who knew they would be closed on Sunday? O.k. I drove to another store. I bought a dozen eggs for $2.34- I refused to drive all the way to Walmart for eggs that were less than a dollar.
I came back home again and finished baking the cake. I let it cool. I got ready for choir practice, and then came back to the kitchen to frost the cake. I mixed up some frosting, without following a recipe- it looked pretty good, I thought. I started frosting the cake. I never finished frosting the cake. The top looked good. I started to do the sides and the frosting slid off- apparently, I could have used a lot more powdered sugar in my recipe. I ended up with the ugliest cake in the world, but I took it to the party, and we ate it anyway. At least it tasted good.
After the party, I came home. I was very tired. I started getting ready for bed. I noticed a can of starch on the bathroom floor and my OCD kicked in- the starch needed to be in the other room by the ironing board. I picked it up and carried it down the hall. I leaned over to set it on the floor next to the ironing board. Whack! I hit my face on a chair that was sitting there. Actually I hit my mouth, and my tooth cut right into my bottom lip. My first reaction- "Ouch!" I laughed. I really can be so clumsy. Then I tasted blood and went to the mirror. It was not a pleasant sight. Karyn got some ice for me. I held it there a long time. The blood just kept coming. I switched to a hot washcloth, and finally my lip stopped bleeding. I took some ibuprofen and went to bed.
During the whole cake fiasco, I kept saying to myself, "Rejoice. Rejoice. Don't complain." As I attempted to frost the cake, Barb was standing next to me saying, "Count it all joy." I ended up laughing a lot- on any normal day, I would have been really ticked off. I can't say that I was overly joyful about slicing my lip open- it really did hurt. But I survived. It was all part of a long, weird day. "Various trials." Any little trial, not just big life- altering ones. I still don't know exactly what God was trying to teach me- maybe I just needed some practice to see what kind of response I would make. If it hadn't been for the message, I could have ended up having a really grumpy day, but all in all it was a pretty good day and I'm thankful for whatever God was trying to teach me!
Sunday morning's message was taken from the book of James, chapter 1:
"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials......"
The basic point: We are to be joyful in any trial that comes our way, remembering that trials are a gift from God. Our response should not be complaining.
That was what I heard Sunday morning. This was the rest of my day:
I went home and ate lunch, then prepared to make a birthday cake for Barb. I looked at the recipe and realized that it called for "unsalted butter". I went to the fridge and saw 7 sticks of salted butter. O.k. Did it make a difference? I had no idea. What if I used the salted butter and the cake was way too salty? I didn't want to take the chance. I called my parent's house- no unsalted butter there. I called Barb's sister- no answer. I called work- ah, unsalted butter. I wouldn't have to go to the store. I hopped in the car and went to pick it up. I love the fact that I live so close to work.
I came back home and proceeded to soften the butter, then went to the fridge to get the eggs. I needed 4 eggs- I had 1 egg. Wonderful. I went and put my shoes back on, climbed back in the car and drove to the nearest store. Who knew they would be closed on Sunday? O.k. I drove to another store. I bought a dozen eggs for $2.34- I refused to drive all the way to Walmart for eggs that were less than a dollar.
I came back home again and finished baking the cake. I let it cool. I got ready for choir practice, and then came back to the kitchen to frost the cake. I mixed up some frosting, without following a recipe- it looked pretty good, I thought. I started frosting the cake. I never finished frosting the cake. The top looked good. I started to do the sides and the frosting slid off- apparently, I could have used a lot more powdered sugar in my recipe. I ended up with the ugliest cake in the world, but I took it to the party, and we ate it anyway. At least it tasted good.
After the party, I came home. I was very tired. I started getting ready for bed. I noticed a can of starch on the bathroom floor and my OCD kicked in- the starch needed to be in the other room by the ironing board. I picked it up and carried it down the hall. I leaned over to set it on the floor next to the ironing board. Whack! I hit my face on a chair that was sitting there. Actually I hit my mouth, and my tooth cut right into my bottom lip. My first reaction- "Ouch!" I laughed. I really can be so clumsy. Then I tasted blood and went to the mirror. It was not a pleasant sight. Karyn got some ice for me. I held it there a long time. The blood just kept coming. I switched to a hot washcloth, and finally my lip stopped bleeding. I took some ibuprofen and went to bed.
During the whole cake fiasco, I kept saying to myself, "Rejoice. Rejoice. Don't complain." As I attempted to frost the cake, Barb was standing next to me saying, "Count it all joy." I ended up laughing a lot- on any normal day, I would have been really ticked off. I can't say that I was overly joyful about slicing my lip open- it really did hurt. But I survived. It was all part of a long, weird day. "Various trials." Any little trial, not just big life- altering ones. I still don't know exactly what God was trying to teach me- maybe I just needed some practice to see what kind of response I would make. If it hadn't been for the message, I could have ended up having a really grumpy day, but all in all it was a pretty good day and I'm thankful for whatever God was trying to teach me!
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Friday, November 24, 2006
Crazy Weekend
This past weekend was extremely busy for me. My cousins were here from out of state- this happens once a year and produces lots of excitement and fun, but very little sleep. Friday was a full day, even though half of it was spent just hanging out at my parents house. The youngest of the bunch- Morgan- was highly entertaining, pulling magnets off the fridge and walking around like she owned the house. Large quantities of noise came from her sweet little mouth, but we didn't mind. All she had to do was say, "Hey, Mel-Mel," and I would have let her talk all night long.
It was her big sisters, though, who really liked to talk all night. They were thrilled that they could spend the night at my apartment. The whole family went to a fun fair that evening, along with Nils, who had a blast. After Nils was safe at home in his bed, I went home and prepared a tea party for the girls. We had cake and tea and dressed up a little for added excitement. I had 4 little girls, and it was after 10 pm, so the excitement level was way up! There was a lot of laughter as the girls reviewed tea party rules, such as "no slurping" and "drink with your pinky up". I was talking with a very poor British accent, but the girls thought it was hilarious.
The youngest set of twins left after the tea party, but Madison and Macalah stayed. I got the air mattress out and set it up. They insisted that I sleep in between them, which was cozy for them and rather too close for me. I ended up sneaking over to the couch around 6 am.
On Sunday, my parents and brothers and I traveled into south Chicago to go to church with everyone. It was a long day, but fun. Whenever we're all together, I seem to spend most of the time laughing.
The time was fast and crazy, and though I was completely worn out, I had a great time with everybody. I did learn a couple of things. Lesson 1-When you eat with children, ketchup is not your friend. Madison apologized for the ketchup that seemed to keep appearing on my jeans at the buffet on Friday. I was in awe that it could be in so many places. Lesson 2- if you are laughing too much at the table, ice cream can come out of your mouth and end up all over the table. ( This did not happen to me, but I observed it.) Lesson 3- children really are wonderful! I already knew that, but it's nice to have reminders- I felt very loved this weekend!
This past weekend was extremely busy for me. My cousins were here from out of state- this happens once a year and produces lots of excitement and fun, but very little sleep. Friday was a full day, even though half of it was spent just hanging out at my parents house. The youngest of the bunch- Morgan- was highly entertaining, pulling magnets off the fridge and walking around like she owned the house. Large quantities of noise came from her sweet little mouth, but we didn't mind. All she had to do was say, "Hey, Mel-Mel," and I would have let her talk all night long.
It was her big sisters, though, who really liked to talk all night. They were thrilled that they could spend the night at my apartment. The whole family went to a fun fair that evening, along with Nils, who had a blast. After Nils was safe at home in his bed, I went home and prepared a tea party for the girls. We had cake and tea and dressed up a little for added excitement. I had 4 little girls, and it was after 10 pm, so the excitement level was way up! There was a lot of laughter as the girls reviewed tea party rules, such as "no slurping" and "drink with your pinky up". I was talking with a very poor British accent, but the girls thought it was hilarious.
The youngest set of twins left after the tea party, but Madison and Macalah stayed. I got the air mattress out and set it up. They insisted that I sleep in between them, which was cozy for them and rather too close for me. I ended up sneaking over to the couch around 6 am.
On Sunday, my parents and brothers and I traveled into south Chicago to go to church with everyone. It was a long day, but fun. Whenever we're all together, I seem to spend most of the time laughing.
The time was fast and crazy, and though I was completely worn out, I had a great time with everybody. I did learn a couple of things. Lesson 1-When you eat with children, ketchup is not your friend. Madison apologized for the ketchup that seemed to keep appearing on my jeans at the buffet on Friday. I was in awe that it could be in so many places. Lesson 2- if you are laughing too much at the table, ice cream can come out of your mouth and end up all over the table. ( This did not happen to me, but I observed it.) Lesson 3- children really are wonderful! I already knew that, but it's nice to have reminders- I felt very loved this weekend!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Trick or Treat
Spiderman, the Princess- oh, I mean, "Sleeping Beauty"- and the Bumblebee......definitely 3 characters.....were set to go around the neighborhood. Yes, I dressed up, too. The kids were highly impressed with me.
We set out with mommy and daddy, who were also in costume. Each adult was in charge of a child, which was necessary! We walked around to see the neighbors and be admired.....and get candy, of course. It was rather chilly outside so we didn't go far. We came home, warmed up and went through the goods. Nils kept running out of the house whenever other trick or treaters came by. We took turns chasing him. He did get to go out again later, much to his delight, and then grandpa took him for a third round. All in all, it was a fun evening.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
A Different Kind of Day
High school students are fascinating! I spend most of my time with young children, but today I was a substitute teacher at a local high school. It started out great- the light bulb blew out immediately on the overhead projector, which caused some students to think that we were not going to have class. No such luck, dear teenagers- just work on your projects. I was in art class; I don't really know anything about art- my main concern was to make sure that no one left the room with an exacto knife- mission accomplished!
After I announced the assignments for the day I heard-
"I'm bored."
Ah, the back corner of the room- the boy slouching in his chair with his arms crossed. He was the one who had said "Who's that?" when I walked into the room, as if I couldn't hear him. I calmly told him to work on his shading or his sketchbook- of course, he had neither one with him....right. Well.....
"Find something to do."
"O.k. I'll read," and he picked up his Aquafina bottle and proceeded to "read".
I moved to a small math class for 4th hour, where I was promptly named "Miss G." because my name sounded too complicated to pronounce.
After lunch it was back to art class- more shading figures and another back row boy with nothing to do. He was enjoying his Ipod. At my prompting he retrieved his project. He then came and asked me if I knew how to draw- I laughed. I was not very helpful. Then he informed me that I smelled good. "You really do".......and he returned to his seat.
Well, I guess it's always nice to know whether you smell good or not.
Oh, here's a fashion tip from an observer of high school students:
Anything goes. If you want to wear shorts in November, go ahead. If you want to wear a black and white striped shirt with brown plaid pants, be my guest. Maybe a pair of furry pink boots- with a very miny denim skirt, of course. And you can do or not do your hair- it really doesn't matter.
I guess I must have just appeared to be an older person. There is obviously no such thing as "normal".
High school students are fascinating! I spend most of my time with young children, but today I was a substitute teacher at a local high school. It started out great- the light bulb blew out immediately on the overhead projector, which caused some students to think that we were not going to have class. No such luck, dear teenagers- just work on your projects. I was in art class; I don't really know anything about art- my main concern was to make sure that no one left the room with an exacto knife- mission accomplished!
After I announced the assignments for the day I heard-
"I'm bored."
Ah, the back corner of the room- the boy slouching in his chair with his arms crossed. He was the one who had said "Who's that?" when I walked into the room, as if I couldn't hear him. I calmly told him to work on his shading or his sketchbook- of course, he had neither one with him....right. Well.....
"Find something to do."
"O.k. I'll read," and he picked up his Aquafina bottle and proceeded to "read".
I moved to a small math class for 4th hour, where I was promptly named "Miss G." because my name sounded too complicated to pronounce.
After lunch it was back to art class- more shading figures and another back row boy with nothing to do. He was enjoying his Ipod. At my prompting he retrieved his project. He then came and asked me if I knew how to draw- I laughed. I was not very helpful. Then he informed me that I smelled good. "You really do".......and he returned to his seat.
Well, I guess it's always nice to know whether you smell good or not.
Oh, here's a fashion tip from an observer of high school students:
Anything goes. If you want to wear shorts in November, go ahead. If you want to wear a black and white striped shirt with brown plaid pants, be my guest. Maybe a pair of furry pink boots- with a very miny denim skirt, of course. And you can do or not do your hair- it really doesn't matter.
I guess I must have just appeared to be an older person. There is obviously no such thing as "normal".
Sunday, November 05, 2006
I try not to say stupid things in public. I'm not saying that it doesn't happen. I'm sure that many of my friends can think of particular instances when I've really messed up. In fact, at this moment 2 particular instances come to my mind, but I will refrain from writing about them. I will leave those moments to the people who experienced them with me.
But sometimes I hear other people say things and I wonder why they just can't think for a microsecond before speaking-especially when it's a complete stranger they are talking to.
When I'm out in public, I often have a child with me- it's part of my job. I take Nils to the grocery store or the pet store or the mall. We might be running an errand or just taking a field trip. But more than likely, someone is going to stop me and talk to me about whatever child I have with me and automatically assume that the child is mine. It happens all the time.
Sometimes I just go with the flow.
"Oh, what a cute son you have, " directed to me,
OR, "You sure must keep your mommy busy, " directed to the child.
I smile and keep walking. It's not really any of their business if the child is mine or not.
I remember once I was with Annika or Marta somewhere and somebody commented on how much they looked like me, which I thought was really odd because they do NOT even remotely look like me. I am not blond and not Swedish- I think the person had eye trouble or something.
Anyway, the other day Nils and I were at the mall. I took him to get his haircut, which was an experience in itself. Anyone walking by the salon probably wondered about the girl holding the very squirmy child still, as the child was loudly proclaiming, "You have to be still, you have to be still," and trying his hardest to get out of the chair. Just thinking about it makes me laugh- I really love that boy!
After the haircut, he was rewarded with a carousel ride at the Food Court. As he was finishing his ride, the lady said to me,
"Where on earth did you put him? You're so tiny."
I guess a comment like that should be taken as a compliment, but first of all, I was never actually pregnant- at any time- ever! O.k., so she was assuming that he was mine. But was she also assuming that he had just been born? Seriously, I wanted to say, "He didn't come out that way." He is 5 years old.
And who asks questions like that anyway- especially to a complete stranger?
Maybe it's not that weird, but it just seemed really weird to me.
But sometimes I hear other people say things and I wonder why they just can't think for a microsecond before speaking-especially when it's a complete stranger they are talking to.
When I'm out in public, I often have a child with me- it's part of my job. I take Nils to the grocery store or the pet store or the mall. We might be running an errand or just taking a field trip. But more than likely, someone is going to stop me and talk to me about whatever child I have with me and automatically assume that the child is mine. It happens all the time.
Sometimes I just go with the flow.
"Oh, what a cute son you have, " directed to me,
OR, "You sure must keep your mommy busy, " directed to the child.
I smile and keep walking. It's not really any of their business if the child is mine or not.
I remember once I was with Annika or Marta somewhere and somebody commented on how much they looked like me, which I thought was really odd because they do NOT even remotely look like me. I am not blond and not Swedish- I think the person had eye trouble or something.
Anyway, the other day Nils and I were at the mall. I took him to get his haircut, which was an experience in itself. Anyone walking by the salon probably wondered about the girl holding the very squirmy child still, as the child was loudly proclaiming, "You have to be still, you have to be still," and trying his hardest to get out of the chair. Just thinking about it makes me laugh- I really love that boy!
After the haircut, he was rewarded with a carousel ride at the Food Court. As he was finishing his ride, the lady said to me,
"Where on earth did you put him? You're so tiny."
I guess a comment like that should be taken as a compliment, but first of all, I was never actually pregnant- at any time- ever! O.k., so she was assuming that he was mine. But was she also assuming that he had just been born? Seriously, I wanted to say, "He didn't come out that way." He is 5 years old.
And who asks questions like that anyway- especially to a complete stranger?
Maybe it's not that weird, but it just seemed really weird to me.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Another Pumpkin Day
Well, last night Annika and I made a plan. It was time once again to make Pumpkin Cookies. We did it last year- mixed the dough, rolled it out, cut it with the big pumpkin cookie cutter- yum! So, today I went to work with the cookie cutter and some ingredients, and we prepared to make our cookies. Nils was even excited. These, of course, would be gluten free, casein free cookies so that everybody could eat them!
I took out the bowl and Annika helped me with the sugar, shortening and oil. She was standing on a chair by the counter and "reading" the cookbook to me- so cute! Then I went to grab 2 eggs- oops! There were no eggs in the fridge. Leave it to me to start the recipe without checking to make sure we had all the ingredients. Well, luckily for us, Mommy was at the grocery store, so we just had to wait for awhile to finish our project. We set the dough aside- out of the reach of little hands- and went upstairs. Annika still needed to get dressed for the day. We were in her room when I heard a little noise from downstairs. It sounded like somebody was going through a plastic bag. I knew right away that Nils must be in the kitchen messing with my bag of ingredients. Annika beat me down the stairs and quickly announced that Nils did not have our cookie mix. True, that was safe; and when I looked over at my bag of stuff, all appeared to be well. Nils was not in view. I walked through the kitchen and dining room, and then I saw him: he was in the sun room with my empty bag of xanthan gum ( a necessary ingredient for gluten free baking). The floor was covered with the powder-like substance, and he was rubbing it around with his hands - and smiling.
I walked over and grabbed him by the hand with a very displeased look on my face. Annika went and grabbed the hand vac and started cleaning up. I retrieved the second hand vac from the t.v. room and made Nils help her, and of course, gave him a lecture on not messing with things. By this time, Mommy was coming home with the eggs, but it was time for Annika to go to music class. So Nils and I went to the Pumpkin Patch to kill some time.
As soon as we returned, Annika was ready to finish the cookies. We finished mixing everything together, rolled out the dough, cut out beautiful pumpkin shapes, and put them in the oven. How exciting! We just had to wait for them to bake, frost them and eat them. I was craving a sugar cookie, and the kids were definitely ready for them.
As I was cleaning off the table, I turned and saw smoke pouring out of the oven. I grabbed a potholder and started fanning the smoke, wondering where the smoke detector was and how soon it would go off. Mommy had said that something had spilled in the oven, so I assumed that was the problem. (It happens to me all the time.) She came into the kitchen and looked at the dial on the oven, which happened to be set on BROIL. We instantly knew that a young boy named Nils had managed to change the dial without anybody noticing. He likes to push buttons and turn knobs. Our next problem was a stuck oven door. I had locked the oven so that Nils would not try to open it- unfortunately, no one could get it open. The oven was off, smoke was still pouring out of it, and the poor little pumpkins were dying inside.
We opened all the doors to let the smoke out. Daddy went to look for the instructions to the oven, Mommy went on kid patrol outside, and I helplessly stood in the kitchen, still waving the potholder. I really did not know what else to do at that point. I knew that something like this could only happen to me, and I so badly wanted a cookie, and to top it all off, every single cookie was in the oven! There was no more dough, and I was not about to make anymore.
Well, we finally were able to get the oven open. The black cookies were thrown outside, and when I left the house, the doors were still all wide open. Amazingly enough, the smoke alarm never did go off- probably because I am a fantastic "waver of the potholder". I told Annika we would make cookies another day. Thankfully, I was given the rest of the day off.
Well, last night Annika and I made a plan. It was time once again to make Pumpkin Cookies. We did it last year- mixed the dough, rolled it out, cut it with the big pumpkin cookie cutter- yum! So, today I went to work with the cookie cutter and some ingredients, and we prepared to make our cookies. Nils was even excited. These, of course, would be gluten free, casein free cookies so that everybody could eat them!
I took out the bowl and Annika helped me with the sugar, shortening and oil. She was standing on a chair by the counter and "reading" the cookbook to me- so cute! Then I went to grab 2 eggs- oops! There were no eggs in the fridge. Leave it to me to start the recipe without checking to make sure we had all the ingredients. Well, luckily for us, Mommy was at the grocery store, so we just had to wait for awhile to finish our project. We set the dough aside- out of the reach of little hands- and went upstairs. Annika still needed to get dressed for the day. We were in her room when I heard a little noise from downstairs. It sounded like somebody was going through a plastic bag. I knew right away that Nils must be in the kitchen messing with my bag of ingredients. Annika beat me down the stairs and quickly announced that Nils did not have our cookie mix. True, that was safe; and when I looked over at my bag of stuff, all appeared to be well. Nils was not in view. I walked through the kitchen and dining room, and then I saw him: he was in the sun room with my empty bag of xanthan gum ( a necessary ingredient for gluten free baking). The floor was covered with the powder-like substance, and he was rubbing it around with his hands - and smiling.
I walked over and grabbed him by the hand with a very displeased look on my face. Annika went and grabbed the hand vac and started cleaning up. I retrieved the second hand vac from the t.v. room and made Nils help her, and of course, gave him a lecture on not messing with things. By this time, Mommy was coming home with the eggs, but it was time for Annika to go to music class. So Nils and I went to the Pumpkin Patch to kill some time.
As soon as we returned, Annika was ready to finish the cookies. We finished mixing everything together, rolled out the dough, cut out beautiful pumpkin shapes, and put them in the oven. How exciting! We just had to wait for them to bake, frost them and eat them. I was craving a sugar cookie, and the kids were definitely ready for them.
As I was cleaning off the table, I turned and saw smoke pouring out of the oven. I grabbed a potholder and started fanning the smoke, wondering where the smoke detector was and how soon it would go off. Mommy had said that something had spilled in the oven, so I assumed that was the problem. (It happens to me all the time.) She came into the kitchen and looked at the dial on the oven, which happened to be set on BROIL. We instantly knew that a young boy named Nils had managed to change the dial without anybody noticing. He likes to push buttons and turn knobs. Our next problem was a stuck oven door. I had locked the oven so that Nils would not try to open it- unfortunately, no one could get it open. The oven was off, smoke was still pouring out of it, and the poor little pumpkins were dying inside.
We opened all the doors to let the smoke out. Daddy went to look for the instructions to the oven, Mommy went on kid patrol outside, and I helplessly stood in the kitchen, still waving the potholder. I really did not know what else to do at that point. I knew that something like this could only happen to me, and I so badly wanted a cookie, and to top it all off, every single cookie was in the oven! There was no more dough, and I was not about to make anymore.
Well, we finally were able to get the oven open. The black cookies were thrown outside, and when I left the house, the doors were still all wide open. Amazingly enough, the smoke alarm never did go off- probably because I am a fantastic "waver of the potholder". I told Annika we would make cookies another day. Thankfully, I was given the rest of the day off.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
The Pumpkin Patch
I made my annual trek to the Pumpkin Patch last Saturday with Nils and my brother, Will. Nils absolutely loved it! I think his favorite thing was the "big mouth". He ran in and out of it many times! We even went through the Haunted Shed, and he did great. It's a pretty scary walk for a little kid- I ended up carrying him, mainly because I was afraid I'd lose him otherwise. We had a great time , and I'm sure we'll be going back again soon!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Girls Night Out
I have never in my life gone camping- until this year. O.k. - maybe it wasn't really camping. I did roast hot dogs and marshmallows over a fire and sleep in a tent. The tent was in somebody's backyard, and I did use their bathroom- I don't know if I could survive REAL camping. Sleeping on the ground is painful to be quite honest and the huge spider that I found in my tent in the morning makes me reluctant to ever sleep in a tent again, but maybe.....
It was definitely fun. Sixteen girls, five tents, a huge bonfire, tasty treats, singing, stories, testimonies ....all that was great......but the giant spider....he was not my friend. That's why I smashed him with my shoe after I screamed and completely frightened the other girls in my tent. And I was the older, twenty-something girl, the one who was supposed to be a good example in front of the teenagers. Right. First I freak them out because of a bug, then I dramatically murder one of God's creatures with my tennis shoe..... but I really am quite mature. Although I totally failed at game time. I could not run for long...I was wimpy. I could not be a part of the BLOB. I could not keep up with the young girls. I was seriously out of breath and had to sit down during the next game.
But again, it was fun. Hanging out with all those girls, eating, talking, laughing, just being together as sisters in Christ- it really was a blessing to me. And maybe if we decide to do it again next year, I'll try it once more- but if any spiders come near me, I will not show mercy on them.....and I might take an air mattress.
My favorite quote from the camp out:
"We are just...so....GIRLS!"
This quote took place when we were trying to properly take down all the tents.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
A Zavier Moment
I talked to Zavier this week on the phone. As always, he was very talkative. He told me about his new school and how this one boy was mean to him; he talked about pirates and vikings and was both of them at different times in the conversation. He "showed" me his pirate sword- he always "shows" me something during our conversations-
"look at this- see it?" And he asked me to come over on Saturday- he's very hospitable, but still doesn't understand that I can't just stop by anytime.
In response to this delightful phone conversation, I decided it was about time to blog another Zavier story.
So here is a classic from 3 years ago.......
It started out to be a fairly regular Saturday for me. I slept in a bit and spent some time at the mall, and then received a phone call to babysit that evening. No problem! Babysitting is one of my favorite things to do because I just love kids! So, I rushed home to gather some things and then set off to an evening in Munchkinland.
The munchkin in this instance was my personal favorite- my little blue-eyed, blond-headed Zavier. The 18 month old youngster greeted me in a normal fashion- mouth running a mile a minute (though not much discernable speech was exiting the cute, little mouth), arms waving wildly to add to the discussion, and even a hug and kiss as a bonus. After bidding farewell to mom and dad, we settled down for an evening of fun.
We played for a while- toddler toys are very exciting, you know- made a short trip to Walmart, and then came back to get ready for supper.
It was at this time that I noticed Zavier on the kitchen floor in a rather unusual position. His hands and feet were on the floor, but his knees were in the air, and his body was turned slightly toward me. The look on his face was also strange. It was a mixture of pain, frustration and confusion. One word came to my mind- potty! His mom had told me that he had used the potty just the week before. It was the first stages of potty training, and I was there in the midst of the adventure. Here was my opportunity to help the diapered child progress toward the land of Scooby Doo and Spiderman underwear. I knew I had to do my part, so I grabbed the strangely-posed child and headed for mom and dad's bathroom, where the new magic potty, which plays music when you use it, awaited him.
My benevolent efforts were most unfortunately too late. To my dismay, when I removed the diaper, it was already full and the little bottom itself was extremely dirty. Regardless, I sat him on the potty, hoping that maybe he was not yet finished. He just sat there looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps the running through the house to the little potty had startled him a bit.
As he sat there, I looked around the bathroom and realized that there was another problem. There were no babywipes or diapers in this bathroom. I knew that toilet paper was not going to clean up that bottom, so I quickly made a rather risky decision. Telling the boy to stay where he was, I ran through the bedroom, living room and up the stairs and into the nursery, seized a diaper and some wipes and headed back down the stairs. It was as I was descending the stairs that I saw him. At the edge of the living room, outside the bedroom door stood the blond boy with the naked bottom. He looked at me and grinned as I yelled for him to get back in the bathroom. He laughed mishieviously while turning and running, with me not far behind. I was close enough to him to see something small and brown escape the dirty rear and land on mommy and daddy's light beige bedroom carpet. He turned and looked at me because I was yelling again, this time about how I was going to get fired.
Well, the little bottom finally was cleaned (although the shower rug became smeared in the process of trying to hold the boy still), and a new diaper was applied. The Spiderman underwear somehow did not appear as close now. The shower rug was sprayed with Shout and deposited in the laundry room to await further cleaning, and stain remover took care of the bedroom carpet.
I was finally able to eat supper. By this time we were both famished. But the evening was far from over. We still had a good 2 hours before bedtime.
I began to clean up the kitchen as Zavier played with his toys in the living room. He kept running into the kitchen to show me one thing or another or to wrap his arms around my legs. His little eyes told me to come and play too, and I, of course, gave in. It was during our playtime that the next mishap occured. We were laughing and having a wonderful chase through the living room, when suddenly the floor decided to be rude and whack Zavier in the face. Needless to say, this produced some genuine tears and 2 bloody lips. Immediately, I scooped the boy up and ran up the stairs to get a washcloth. I deposited my teary bundle on the bathroom sink, and he settled down while chewing on the cold washcloth. The blood took its sweet time slowing down, which seemed to concern me more than it did him. He was soon ready to get down and play.
Once the flow of blood had given way to a puffy, bruised looking lip, we went back downstairs. I put the injured child down amidst the toys and went to the kitchen to call my mom. I had to talk to someone about the evening's traumas. The phone was busy, so I placed it back on the counter. As I turned around, I found my little charge standing right behind me. Instead of holding a toy, he held one of my sandals. He raised it up with an earnest look on his face, as if he wanted to tell me something. I looked at the shoe questioningly and noticed a little pool of liquid that I immediately recognized as baby puke. Upon further inspection, I found that there happened to be no trace of nasty throw up on the child's clothes and none on the floor- it was only on my shoe. I stood there in sheer awe, wondering how many other bodily fluids could possibly come out of such a small body in such a messy way, all in one evening.
I took the shoe and cleaned it off, then tried to call my mother again to no avail. So I called my grandma instead. I had to talk to somebody else in the world to make sure that this was not some really weird dream.
I soon thereafter took the young one upstairs, dressed him in pajamas, tucked him in bed and sang him to sleep. I stood watching him sleep and smiled at the big, ugly lip that could not hide the angelic sweetness of his little face. I was exhausted and ready to head to bed myself. It had been a long evening, but even though I had dealt with messy poop and bloody lips and smelly throw up all in a matter of a few short hours, I knew that I would not trade that night with the blond-headed boy for anything- not even a new pair of shoes.
I talked to Zavier this week on the phone. As always, he was very talkative. He told me about his new school and how this one boy was mean to him; he talked about pirates and vikings and was both of them at different times in the conversation. He "showed" me his pirate sword- he always "shows" me something during our conversations-
"look at this- see it?" And he asked me to come over on Saturday- he's very hospitable, but still doesn't understand that I can't just stop by anytime.
In response to this delightful phone conversation, I decided it was about time to blog another Zavier story.
So here is a classic from 3 years ago.......
It started out to be a fairly regular Saturday for me. I slept in a bit and spent some time at the mall, and then received a phone call to babysit that evening. No problem! Babysitting is one of my favorite things to do because I just love kids! So, I rushed home to gather some things and then set off to an evening in Munchkinland.
The munchkin in this instance was my personal favorite- my little blue-eyed, blond-headed Zavier. The 18 month old youngster greeted me in a normal fashion- mouth running a mile a minute (though not much discernable speech was exiting the cute, little mouth), arms waving wildly to add to the discussion, and even a hug and kiss as a bonus. After bidding farewell to mom and dad, we settled down for an evening of fun.
We played for a while- toddler toys are very exciting, you know- made a short trip to Walmart, and then came back to get ready for supper.
It was at this time that I noticed Zavier on the kitchen floor in a rather unusual position. His hands and feet were on the floor, but his knees were in the air, and his body was turned slightly toward me. The look on his face was also strange. It was a mixture of pain, frustration and confusion. One word came to my mind- potty! His mom had told me that he had used the potty just the week before. It was the first stages of potty training, and I was there in the midst of the adventure. Here was my opportunity to help the diapered child progress toward the land of Scooby Doo and Spiderman underwear. I knew I had to do my part, so I grabbed the strangely-posed child and headed for mom and dad's bathroom, where the new magic potty, which plays music when you use it, awaited him.
My benevolent efforts were most unfortunately too late. To my dismay, when I removed the diaper, it was already full and the little bottom itself was extremely dirty. Regardless, I sat him on the potty, hoping that maybe he was not yet finished. He just sat there looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps the running through the house to the little potty had startled him a bit.
As he sat there, I looked around the bathroom and realized that there was another problem. There were no babywipes or diapers in this bathroom. I knew that toilet paper was not going to clean up that bottom, so I quickly made a rather risky decision. Telling the boy to stay where he was, I ran through the bedroom, living room and up the stairs and into the nursery, seized a diaper and some wipes and headed back down the stairs. It was as I was descending the stairs that I saw him. At the edge of the living room, outside the bedroom door stood the blond boy with the naked bottom. He looked at me and grinned as I yelled for him to get back in the bathroom. He laughed mishieviously while turning and running, with me not far behind. I was close enough to him to see something small and brown escape the dirty rear and land on mommy and daddy's light beige bedroom carpet. He turned and looked at me because I was yelling again, this time about how I was going to get fired.
Well, the little bottom finally was cleaned (although the shower rug became smeared in the process of trying to hold the boy still), and a new diaper was applied. The Spiderman underwear somehow did not appear as close now. The shower rug was sprayed with Shout and deposited in the laundry room to await further cleaning, and stain remover took care of the bedroom carpet.
I was finally able to eat supper. By this time we were both famished. But the evening was far from over. We still had a good 2 hours before bedtime.
I began to clean up the kitchen as Zavier played with his toys in the living room. He kept running into the kitchen to show me one thing or another or to wrap his arms around my legs. His little eyes told me to come and play too, and I, of course, gave in. It was during our playtime that the next mishap occured. We were laughing and having a wonderful chase through the living room, when suddenly the floor decided to be rude and whack Zavier in the face. Needless to say, this produced some genuine tears and 2 bloody lips. Immediately, I scooped the boy up and ran up the stairs to get a washcloth. I deposited my teary bundle on the bathroom sink, and he settled down while chewing on the cold washcloth. The blood took its sweet time slowing down, which seemed to concern me more than it did him. He was soon ready to get down and play.
Once the flow of blood had given way to a puffy, bruised looking lip, we went back downstairs. I put the injured child down amidst the toys and went to the kitchen to call my mom. I had to talk to someone about the evening's traumas. The phone was busy, so I placed it back on the counter. As I turned around, I found my little charge standing right behind me. Instead of holding a toy, he held one of my sandals. He raised it up with an earnest look on his face, as if he wanted to tell me something. I looked at the shoe questioningly and noticed a little pool of liquid that I immediately recognized as baby puke. Upon further inspection, I found that there happened to be no trace of nasty throw up on the child's clothes and none on the floor- it was only on my shoe. I stood there in sheer awe, wondering how many other bodily fluids could possibly come out of such a small body in such a messy way, all in one evening.
I took the shoe and cleaned it off, then tried to call my mother again to no avail. So I called my grandma instead. I had to talk to somebody else in the world to make sure that this was not some really weird dream.
I soon thereafter took the young one upstairs, dressed him in pajamas, tucked him in bed and sang him to sleep. I stood watching him sleep and smiled at the big, ugly lip that could not hide the angelic sweetness of his little face. I was exhausted and ready to head to bed myself. It had been a long evening, but even though I had dealt with messy poop and bloody lips and smelly throw up all in a matter of a few short hours, I knew that I would not trade that night with the blond-headed boy for anything- not even a new pair of shoes.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
God Provides!
All of the money needed to adopt Chloe has come in! It's so exciting to see the way God works in people's lives. And even though I don't personally know this family, I am truly happy for them as a brother and sister in Christ. I'm sure that while they are a blessing to little Chloe, she will be a blessing to them. Praise the Lord for His wonderful provision!
All of the money needed to adopt Chloe has come in! It's so exciting to see the way God works in people's lives. And even though I don't personally know this family, I am truly happy for them as a brother and sister in Christ. I'm sure that while they are a blessing to little Chloe, she will be a blessing to them. Praise the Lord for His wonderful provision!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
A Girl named Chloe
Normally I just post stories about my crazy children on this blog, purely for the enjoyment of the readers and so that I can share what's going on in my life. In this post I would like to share something else that has recently come to my attention. A friend at church has been in contact with a family in Florida who is trying to adopt a little girl. They have previously adopted 3 children and believe that little Chloe belongs in their family, too. They have been faithfully praying about the situation and are waiting for God's will to be done with Chloe and with their family.
Global Grace Missions is a ministry of my church, and we are trying to help the Murschell family. We believe that God wants us to minister to the poor and the fatherless (James 1:27), and it is our desire to help Chloe physically and spiritually. Please visit the following site to read more about Chloe and the Murschell family:
< a href = "http://www.globalgracemissions.org/blog/chloe.html" target = "_blank"> link
Normally I just post stories about my crazy children on this blog, purely for the enjoyment of the readers and so that I can share what's going on in my life. In this post I would like to share something else that has recently come to my attention. A friend at church has been in contact with a family in Florida who is trying to adopt a little girl. They have previously adopted 3 children and believe that little Chloe belongs in their family, too. They have been faithfully praying about the situation and are waiting for God's will to be done with Chloe and with their family.
Global Grace Missions is a ministry of my church, and we are trying to help the Murschell family. We believe that God wants us to minister to the poor and the fatherless (James 1:27), and it is our desire to help Chloe physically and spiritually. Please visit the following site to read more about Chloe and the Murschell family:
< a href = "http://www.globalgracemissions.org/blog/chloe.html" target = "_blank"> link
Friday, August 18, 2006
A New Poop Story
For those of you who have read my first posts on this blog and are well aware of the trials of potty training Nils and Annika, I must enlighten you with new information. Annika has been potty trained for months now, but Nils is still working on it. This summer has been busy for him in the potty training arena. His school has really been focused on it, and therefore so have we. There have been many, many accidents- here, there, and everywhere (including the hot tub, which is probably the worst).
He has made quite a bit of progress, though, and last night I had a special surprise. I was with Nils and Marta in the sunroom, just playing with toys. While I was talking to Marta, Nils disappeared, so I went to look for him. Walking through the dining room, I spied his shorts and underwear on the floor. Was this a potty moment or simply an "I want to be naked" moment? You never know with Nils! I picked up the clothes and then saw the poop in the underwear. Thankfully it was just a little bit, but I was all set to lecture him about going in the potty and not in his pants, when I saw him - in the bathroom, on the potty. And he was pooping on the potty! This was a breakthrough moment! He realized on his own that he had to go, and went in the bathroom by himself, and got on the potty, without saying a word to anybody! I was so amazed, I didn't care about the little poop in the underwear. I was very proud of him, and I let him know it!
For those of you who have read my first posts on this blog and are well aware of the trials of potty training Nils and Annika, I must enlighten you with new information. Annika has been potty trained for months now, but Nils is still working on it. This summer has been busy for him in the potty training arena. His school has really been focused on it, and therefore so have we. There have been many, many accidents- here, there, and everywhere (including the hot tub, which is probably the worst).
He has made quite a bit of progress, though, and last night I had a special surprise. I was with Nils and Marta in the sunroom, just playing with toys. While I was talking to Marta, Nils disappeared, so I went to look for him. Walking through the dining room, I spied his shorts and underwear on the floor. Was this a potty moment or simply an "I want to be naked" moment? You never know with Nils! I picked up the clothes and then saw the poop in the underwear. Thankfully it was just a little bit, but I was all set to lecture him about going in the potty and not in his pants, when I saw him - in the bathroom, on the potty. And he was pooping on the potty! This was a breakthrough moment! He realized on his own that he had to go, and went in the bathroom by himself, and got on the potty, without saying a word to anybody! I was so amazed, I didn't care about the little poop in the underwear. I was very proud of him, and I let him know it!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Garden Girls
I visited Anderson Gardens this week with Annika and Marta. It was such a beautiful day, I had to do something outside, so I grabbed my camera and off we went.
Anderson Gardens is a wonderful place to take pictures, but when you are trying to photograph a very busy one year old and a curious three year old, it is not a simple task. Marta was walking around, scooting up and down steps and trying to climb into every little body of water that we saw. Annika spent most of the time drawing in the dirt and pebbles on the path. She was fascinated with all the rocks and threw them into the pond to make circles. We did enjoy seeing the waterfall and the fish in the pond, and I was able to get a few decent pictures, although getting a good one of the two of them together was just not happening. Every time I said, "Annika, come and sit by Marta so I can take your picture, " Annika would sweetly reply, "No thanks, Melody. I'm drawing a picture of a girl."
I think my favorite part of the day was when we were looking at the tall statue right when you are heading into the gardens. I have a picture of Annika looking up at it.
"Annika, " I said, "look at the big statue."
Annika looked up and with a very serious look on her face replied in awe, "That's God."
Back to Childhood
I threw a birthday party for my brothers this past weekend. They turned 25 and 24 this summer. I decided to make the party reminiscent of times past. So I put up pictures of them when they were little and did a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme. I remember when we were growing up that was a big thing in our house. Being the only girl, I did have to watch cartoons like that. Well, I have to say, the turtles were a hit. We had turtle masks, sewer slime and foam ninja stars, which flew around my apartment all night. We ate tacos and birthday cake and even played a game.
Who says you have to be a kid to have a birthday party? COWABUNGA!
Monday, July 17, 2006
Annika's Imagination
No one will deny that Annika is a talker. This girl loves to talk- about anything. The other day when her mom came home from work, Annika said,
"Mom, I told Melody a story."
A story. It was definitely some kind of story. When she started talking, I grabbed some paper and a pen. This "story" had to be documented. Here are excerpts from Annika's imaginative narration:
"When I was a little boy, there were ants on my toes, and I said, 'Get off ants,', but they didn't get off, and I said, 'Help,' but mommy didn't help me. When I was a little boy, I was in Africa, and I couldn't find my little Barbie toy, and I was sad. And I went to Arizona."
"I had a birthday cake. I was 10 years old. And it was so yummy. Mommy gave me a cake. My brothers were so nice. I got a new blanket. I dreamed about lots and lots of little pets."
"I saw my beautiful daddy, and he had a purple crown on his head and a beautiful dress."
"I was really, really impressed and I ate too much food, and mom and dad were at Africa. I missed my family, but I ate some yummy cake. I didn't like the chicken; it had peanuts in it."
"I tried to look for my pet, my doggy was lost. His name was Rito, but I couldn't find him anywhere."
I don't think I can add anything to that story. Annika was extremely proud of herself for sharing all of that information with me. Maybe someday she will be a famous author. And she'll probably live in Africa or Arizona with her dog, Rito!
No one will deny that Annika is a talker. This girl loves to talk- about anything. The other day when her mom came home from work, Annika said,
"Mom, I told Melody a story."
A story. It was definitely some kind of story. When she started talking, I grabbed some paper and a pen. This "story" had to be documented. Here are excerpts from Annika's imaginative narration:
"When I was a little boy, there were ants on my toes, and I said, 'Get off ants,', but they didn't get off, and I said, 'Help,' but mommy didn't help me. When I was a little boy, I was in Africa, and I couldn't find my little Barbie toy, and I was sad. And I went to Arizona."
"I had a birthday cake. I was 10 years old. And it was so yummy. Mommy gave me a cake. My brothers were so nice. I got a new blanket. I dreamed about lots and lots of little pets."
"I saw my beautiful daddy, and he had a purple crown on his head and a beautiful dress."
"I was really, really impressed and I ate too much food, and mom and dad were at Africa. I missed my family, but I ate some yummy cake. I didn't like the chicken; it had peanuts in it."
"I tried to look for my pet, my doggy was lost. His name was Rito, but I couldn't find him anywhere."
I don't think I can add anything to that story. Annika was extremely proud of herself for sharing all of that information with me. Maybe someday she will be a famous author. And she'll probably live in Africa or Arizona with her dog, Rito!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
"A Block or so Later..."
Have you ever let a 3 year old read to you? It really is a fascinating experience. Yesterday afternoon Annika decided she was going to read to me from the Bible. Well, it was her little pictorial kid version of the Bible. She turned to the first story, which I have read to her several times. She knew that the characters were Adam and Eve, and that they did not listen to God. So, she proceeded to tell me that they were sad because they had been naughty.
"They had to be in time out." There was a picture of Adam and Eve hiding from God with big bushy leaves wrapped around them. "So, they were in the green time out because they did not listen to God." Color coded time out- what a concept!
She read on, turning the pages slowly. There was the story of the big boat, and then there was a story about Isaac, though she called him Jesus. Of course, in a Bible story book, all the men look like Jesus!
"And Jesus was naughty. He did not listen." Ahhh! Heresy! I had to interrupt.
"No, Annika. Jesus was never naughty. He always obeyed. He always listened to God."
" Oh." No further comment. She just continued to read, " A block or so later......"
She used the "block or so later" phrase about a dozen times while she was reading. That particular phrase is in another favorite book called Knuffle Bunny by children's author, Mo Willems. She has no idea what she's talking about, but she likes the sound of the phrase so she uses it whenever she can while reading.
To say the least, it was a highly interesting storytime.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Alarms and Escalators
Today was a day of high adventure for Nils. One of his favorite things to do is to go to the store. We go to the grocery store fairly often- it is equivalent to a day at Great America for this 5 year old.
Well, today I decided to try something a little different- going to the store and not putting him in a shopping cart. We went to Old Time Pottery. I was looking for an inexpensive set of sheets. One item, not a cartful of things. Nils could hold my hand and everything would go smoothly. We walked into the store, and he was just fascinated by everything he saw. He started making comments.
"Oh, water, " as we passed a decorative fountain.
" We're going to get some sheets."
"Oh, look." Fuzzy pillows were pretty cool to see and feel.
" There are flowers on it." We were examining a variety of sheets, and I was trying to match a fitted sheet to a flat sheet. Nils was standing next to me talking about the sheets. He then decided to walk down the aisle behind us.
"Nils, where are you going?" I stood and looked at him. He gave me that special smile that usually means he knows he's doing something that he shouldn't do. He took off. He was around the corner very quickly. I decided to go straight to the next aisle to cut him off. I didn't see him. As I rounded a corner, I heard an alarm. Then I saw him, backing away from an emergency exit door. Of course there had to be a door there. I mean, after all, if there wasn't a door for Nils to try to open, how could it be called a fun place to shop? I grabbed his hand, and tried to be stern, but I ended up laughing. It was a classic Nils stunt! I went back to the sheets, and waited for the fire department to show up. After a few minutes, some store employee made his way back there and looked at us. No questions, no fire department, no evil looks.
We made our way to the cash register. "I pushed the door, " Nils informed the clerk.
All the way to the car- "I pushed the door."
"I know , Nils. You have to stay by Melody in the store. No running away from me."
O.k. So we went home, right? No. I decided to try another new thing. Why not be really brave and go to the mall?
The mall was way cooler than Old Time Pottery. There were so many fascinating things to see. A machine full of Care Bears. Another machine with movies in it. I let him push buttons, but there was no way I was going to put money in those machines. We went to the Food Court and ate french fries and drank pop. Amazingly, he sat at the table and didn't try to run everywhere. We made a big production of throwing things away in the very big trash can. Then we had to try the escalator. The stairs were going up! It was so cool! We saw the Aqua Massage machines spraying water, we went down the glass elevator, we went to the jewelry store and talked to my friend Tracy. Nils tried to open the door to go behind the jewelry counter- no alarms went off. We went to a picture booth. I let him press buttons in there, and we watched the machine sketch our picture. We rode one last time up and down the escalator, and then left.
What a morning! All the way home Nils was talking.
"We went down the stairs."
"We ate french fries."
" I threw it in the garbage."
"No running. Hold Melody's hand."
"We took a picture."
He obviously had a great time, and so did I. It really is amazing to me to watch him react to things. Small, simple things are so huge to him. Nils always fascinates me- the way his mind works, the things he says, the things he remembers. It is days like these that make me truly thankful that he is a part of my life. It's funny, well, maybe not funny....it's just the way God works, I guess. The more I try to help Nils and teach him things, the more he teaches me. And the goodness and sovereignty of God becomes even more evident.
Today was a day of high adventure for Nils. One of his favorite things to do is to go to the store. We go to the grocery store fairly often- it is equivalent to a day at Great America for this 5 year old.
Well, today I decided to try something a little different- going to the store and not putting him in a shopping cart. We went to Old Time Pottery. I was looking for an inexpensive set of sheets. One item, not a cartful of things. Nils could hold my hand and everything would go smoothly. We walked into the store, and he was just fascinated by everything he saw. He started making comments.
"Oh, water, " as we passed a decorative fountain.
" We're going to get some sheets."
"Oh, look." Fuzzy pillows were pretty cool to see and feel.
" There are flowers on it." We were examining a variety of sheets, and I was trying to match a fitted sheet to a flat sheet. Nils was standing next to me talking about the sheets. He then decided to walk down the aisle behind us.
"Nils, where are you going?" I stood and looked at him. He gave me that special smile that usually means he knows he's doing something that he shouldn't do. He took off. He was around the corner very quickly. I decided to go straight to the next aisle to cut him off. I didn't see him. As I rounded a corner, I heard an alarm. Then I saw him, backing away from an emergency exit door. Of course there had to be a door there. I mean, after all, if there wasn't a door for Nils to try to open, how could it be called a fun place to shop? I grabbed his hand, and tried to be stern, but I ended up laughing. It was a classic Nils stunt! I went back to the sheets, and waited for the fire department to show up. After a few minutes, some store employee made his way back there and looked at us. No questions, no fire department, no evil looks.
We made our way to the cash register. "I pushed the door, " Nils informed the clerk.
All the way to the car- "I pushed the door."
"I know , Nils. You have to stay by Melody in the store. No running away from me."
O.k. So we went home, right? No. I decided to try another new thing. Why not be really brave and go to the mall?
The mall was way cooler than Old Time Pottery. There were so many fascinating things to see. A machine full of Care Bears. Another machine with movies in it. I let him push buttons, but there was no way I was going to put money in those machines. We went to the Food Court and ate french fries and drank pop. Amazingly, he sat at the table and didn't try to run everywhere. We made a big production of throwing things away in the very big trash can. Then we had to try the escalator. The stairs were going up! It was so cool! We saw the Aqua Massage machines spraying water, we went down the glass elevator, we went to the jewelry store and talked to my friend Tracy. Nils tried to open the door to go behind the jewelry counter- no alarms went off. We went to a picture booth. I let him press buttons in there, and we watched the machine sketch our picture. We rode one last time up and down the escalator, and then left.
What a morning! All the way home Nils was talking.
"We went down the stairs."
"We ate french fries."
" I threw it in the garbage."
"No running. Hold Melody's hand."
"We took a picture."
He obviously had a great time, and so did I. It really is amazing to me to watch him react to things. Small, simple things are so huge to him. Nils always fascinates me- the way his mind works, the things he says, the things he remembers. It is days like these that make me truly thankful that he is a part of my life. It's funny, well, maybe not funny....it's just the way God works, I guess. The more I try to help Nils and teach him things, the more he teaches me. And the goodness and sovereignty of God becomes even more evident.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
SNOWY MEMORIES
Last night, after being quite snow deprived for the month of January, Rockford was blessed with a lovely blanket of the white stuff. I was delighted. I guess I'm a true Illinois native.
Yesterday, Nils celebrated his fifth birthday. One of his gifts was a new sled- of course, it had to be tried out today. The kids and mom and dad were having a great time in the snow until Mr. I'm Not Afraid Of Anything decided to try to take a swim in the icy Rock River. Much to his dismay, he didn't get very far before mommy grabbed him and took him in the house. So much for any more sled time today.
The sledding business reminded me of another snow adventure that actually took place one year ago this weekend. It was at a time when I was helping take care of a different little boy. It was the weekend before my little Zavier was to move across the country. We had just received a huge amount of snow, and it was bitterly cold. On that particular Saturday, Zavier's mommy had an appointment, so I had the privilege of going sledding with daddy and the kids.
Our first order of business was to buy a sled. No problem- Kmart here we come! We all tromped inside to find the desired piece of equipment...hmmm....sold out. That's o.k. becacause Walmart is right across the street! This time I stayed in the car with the kids. Daddy walked in and walked back out. No sleds at Walmart either. We were not to be highly discouraged. So what if everybody in town had the same idea after the big snowfall. That wasn't going to stop us. On to Hobbytown.....Big Lots....Menards....Discouragement was starting to set in. Jesse was starting to get frantic.
"Why doesn't anybody have sleds? We're not going to be able to sled. Why is this happening?"
Sophie took the cue from her brother.
"We're just going to have to go home."
Zavier, the youngest, from his carseat, was more concerned about himself than the actual sledding.
"My butt hurts."
There were many tears from the three of them by the time we pulled into the Target parking lot. This would be our last try. Again I waited in the car with the unhappy trio, trying to be positive.
"It's o.k., guys, if we can't sled, we can still play in the snow. We can build a snowman and have a snowball fight."
Nobody cared. Sledding would not happen. The carseat was uncomfortable. They had all been sitting back there for an hour and an half. Life was highly depressing.
And then it happened. Out of Target came daddy. And he had a bag in his hands. Was it possible? Did one store in this snow covered city have sleds for three distraught children?
Oh, the cries of happines that poured forth as we drove away from Target. Three sleds! Treasures beyond compare! Even if they were the weird kind that you have to roll out to sit on. No problem. We were going to sled!
But first we had to eat. I was starving. Daddy was starving. The kids weren't really starving, but they could wait a few more minutes. So, we had Beef -a-Roo and then went to the big hill.
We were bundled up. We had our sleds. Up the hill we began to trudge. And then the cold wind hit me. What were we doing? Who cared if the sun was shining? The wind was freezing! The wind chill had to be ridiculously low. Zavier began to cry. We were at the top of the hill. Daddy and Zavier climbed on a sled and headed down the hill. Jesse couldn't get the sled to stay unrolled so that he could get on- life was depressing again. I was trying to help Sophie unroll her sled. Daddy and Zavier were coming back up the hill. Zavier was crying louder.
Jesse hated his sled. Did Sophie make it down? I don't remember. Maybe once. Nobody went down more than once. I think Jesse only made it halfway. I walked down, trying to calm Zavier. He was so cold. We climbed into the car. Zavier was sobbing uncontrollably at this point. Jesse was crying, wondering why we had come sledding in the first place. Sophie was crying. I was not crying, but I was freezing. I couldn't feel my fingers. I think that was Zavier's problem, too- hence, lots of screaming. How do you explain that feeling or no feeling to a 3 year old?
After several hours we were taking Jesse and Sophie home. Then we had to pick up mommy from her spa appointment. Undoubtedly, she must have had a better day than we did. Zavier was much calmer. No more tears. He could feel his hands again. Life was so much better. His little voice piped up loud and clear,
"This was a great day."
A great day....well, I might use a different adjective.....crazy...bizarre....loud.....memorable.
I obviously didn't forget much of it after a year. Any thought of sledding makes me laugh. I don't know if I'll be trying out the birthday sled. I might just watch- and try to keep Nils out of the river.
Last night, after being quite snow deprived for the month of January, Rockford was blessed with a lovely blanket of the white stuff. I was delighted. I guess I'm a true Illinois native.
Yesterday, Nils celebrated his fifth birthday. One of his gifts was a new sled- of course, it had to be tried out today. The kids and mom and dad were having a great time in the snow until Mr. I'm Not Afraid Of Anything decided to try to take a swim in the icy Rock River. Much to his dismay, he didn't get very far before mommy grabbed him and took him in the house. So much for any more sled time today.
The sledding business reminded me of another snow adventure that actually took place one year ago this weekend. It was at a time when I was helping take care of a different little boy. It was the weekend before my little Zavier was to move across the country. We had just received a huge amount of snow, and it was bitterly cold. On that particular Saturday, Zavier's mommy had an appointment, so I had the privilege of going sledding with daddy and the kids.
Our first order of business was to buy a sled. No problem- Kmart here we come! We all tromped inside to find the desired piece of equipment...hmmm....sold out. That's o.k. becacause Walmart is right across the street! This time I stayed in the car with the kids. Daddy walked in and walked back out. No sleds at Walmart either. We were not to be highly discouraged. So what if everybody in town had the same idea after the big snowfall. That wasn't going to stop us. On to Hobbytown.....Big Lots....Menards....Discouragement was starting to set in. Jesse was starting to get frantic.
"Why doesn't anybody have sleds? We're not going to be able to sled. Why is this happening?"
Sophie took the cue from her brother.
"We're just going to have to go home."
Zavier, the youngest, from his carseat, was more concerned about himself than the actual sledding.
"My butt hurts."
There were many tears from the three of them by the time we pulled into the Target parking lot. This would be our last try. Again I waited in the car with the unhappy trio, trying to be positive.
"It's o.k., guys, if we can't sled, we can still play in the snow. We can build a snowman and have a snowball fight."
Nobody cared. Sledding would not happen. The carseat was uncomfortable. They had all been sitting back there for an hour and an half. Life was highly depressing.
And then it happened. Out of Target came daddy. And he had a bag in his hands. Was it possible? Did one store in this snow covered city have sleds for three distraught children?
Oh, the cries of happines that poured forth as we drove away from Target. Three sleds! Treasures beyond compare! Even if they were the weird kind that you have to roll out to sit on. No problem. We were going to sled!
But first we had to eat. I was starving. Daddy was starving. The kids weren't really starving, but they could wait a few more minutes. So, we had Beef -a-Roo and then went to the big hill.
We were bundled up. We had our sleds. Up the hill we began to trudge. And then the cold wind hit me. What were we doing? Who cared if the sun was shining? The wind was freezing! The wind chill had to be ridiculously low. Zavier began to cry. We were at the top of the hill. Daddy and Zavier climbed on a sled and headed down the hill. Jesse couldn't get the sled to stay unrolled so that he could get on- life was depressing again. I was trying to help Sophie unroll her sled. Daddy and Zavier were coming back up the hill. Zavier was crying louder.
Jesse hated his sled. Did Sophie make it down? I don't remember. Maybe once. Nobody went down more than once. I think Jesse only made it halfway. I walked down, trying to calm Zavier. He was so cold. We climbed into the car. Zavier was sobbing uncontrollably at this point. Jesse was crying, wondering why we had come sledding in the first place. Sophie was crying. I was not crying, but I was freezing. I couldn't feel my fingers. I think that was Zavier's problem, too- hence, lots of screaming. How do you explain that feeling or no feeling to a 3 year old?
After several hours we were taking Jesse and Sophie home. Then we had to pick up mommy from her spa appointment. Undoubtedly, she must have had a better day than we did. Zavier was much calmer. No more tears. He could feel his hands again. Life was so much better. His little voice piped up loud and clear,
"This was a great day."
A great day....well, I might use a different adjective.....crazy...bizarre....loud.....memorable.
I obviously didn't forget much of it after a year. Any thought of sledding makes me laugh. I don't know if I'll be trying out the birthday sled. I might just watch- and try to keep Nils out of the river.
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