Celebrate!

Have you ever planned a full-blown celebration?

My wedding was the biggest party I've ever planned and oh my goodness did that require a lot of preparation!  Some of the planning was so much fun as we picked out invitations and registered for gifts. Other jobs were more tedious but even monotonous work like assembling programs didn't seem quite as bad when I remembered what I was preparing for.

It was going to be a celebration of a lifetime and with that attitude even the busyness was fun.

In recent years as my responsibilities for Christmas preparation have multiplied, I find it nearly impossible to get to the point of having time to remember that this is all about the birth of Jesus, Savior.  As much as I want to eliminate the stress, busyness, and unfocused craziness, there are some traditions I'm simply not ready to let go and often my attitude goes down with it.

So this year I'm wondering if maybe I need to work with the flow of life rather than wasting so much thought on trying to fight it.  I need to find another way to get to the peace and joy and meditation on what it means that Jesus was born into this messed up world.  And so this year I hope to continue to work on minimizing and not adding too much to my lists, but in the middle of it all while I'm wrapping and baking and adventing and I hope to remember the CELEBRATION.

My responsible self often chants "Get your work done first and then play," but in recent years I never get around to this playing - or celebrating.  And so this year the preparation is going to be part of the celebration.

After all there is nothing more worthy of celebrating than Christmas.  The birth of Jesus represents God's promise fulfilled. When He arrived in the world God affirmed that all He has promised is true.  He does have a plan to save the world and that hope deserves the biggest celebration ever!



 

A Halloween Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Princess named Snow White.

Snow White lived with her impatient step mother who always hurried her along to get dressed, brush her hair, eat her food, and always to get her seat belt buckled.

A dwarf also lived in the house with Snow White.

Most days he vacillated between Happy, Grumpy, Doc (the one in charge!), but this day he was Sneezy. Complete with runny nose and droopy eyes. Snow White loved her dwarf and the mother couldn't imagine another six dwarfs running around the cottage so they enjoyed the seven personalities of this one dwarf. The dwarf gave Snow White someone to mother. She took off his shoes and coat when he arrived home, brought him his blanket when he turned grumpy, and generally hovered over him ready to meet his every need.  If he did not have a current need, Snow White took away a toy or gave him a big squeeze until the dwarf screeched with a new problem.  Yes, Snow White and the Dwarf lived happily together on most days.

Then one day a handsome prince ninja decided to come play at the cottage.

He wanted Snow White's attention but was not prepared to love on the dwarf as Snow White did.  A charming ninja he was and simply with focused attention he easily enticed Snow White to join him for a time of building their own castles in the lower cottage. Without a backward glance at the Dwarf, Snow White followed the ninja with dreamy eyes and proclamations that she would help the ninja in any way he asked.

After their fortresses were secure, the ninja decided they needed to validate the strength of their walls.  For this he remembered the dwarf. Luring the dwarf near the fortress proved to be no challenge when he turned his charming attention towards the dwarf with a sweet voice and the promise of a ball.

The moment the dwarf arrived in the lower cottage, the ninja's charming facade disappeared and he dashed away behind the fortresses walls. Snow White appeared and the dwarf once again felt safe remembering the fun the two of them shared.

As in all true fairy tales, the story suddenly turned ugly.  From under her beautiful dress, Snow White pulled out a light saber and proceeded to attack the surprised dwarf with bonks and jabs. The impatient mother bounded down to the lower cottage and rescued the dwarf with kisses and admonishments of the ninja and Snow White. 

She reminded them of the prospect of trick-or-treating and everyone quickly reconciled. The dwarf agreed to wear his hat and everyone lived happily ever after, ringing door bells, gathering Reese's Peanut Butter cups, and ending the evening by watching It's a Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. 

Yes, all fairy tales do have a happy ending.

Life's best

The end of October and the sun shines in my window like it did in July. But now the leaves of the Ash tree out my left window lie on the ground and the tree out my right window sways with yellow and red leaves.

Hand me a bottle so I can capture this brilliance. 

If this sun were the one of March or April - filled with hope of much more to come I wouldn't be so nostalgic to see it.  But this is the sun of October meaning this appearance must be one of her last for the season.

Life's best always seem even better when they are about to end.

On Labor Day weekend, we soak and splash in the pool like it was the first time.

In the middle of August, we sleep as long as possible (well I do anyway) and plan hours of nothing before hectic schedules begin.

We stay up late talking on the last night because there will never be another night like this one.

And really isn't the last bite of pie the best one?

I held Asa early this morning before we turned the lights on and felt the weight of his body bearing on my arm. At 18 months, Buddy Boo really can't be called a baby anymore. His legs spilled off of my lap and I could just barely bring back the feeling of holding his teeny tiny body for the first time. We sat while I watched Asher and Amelie scamper back and forth in the hallway between their rooms. Watched Amelie dress herself. Watched Asher actually initiate inviting Amelie into his room. 

There is no end in sight for this busy hands on stage of parenting, but everyday marks the end of one phase or another.

 

 

Thank you for success!

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

I am so thankful for everyone who participated in Supply Ziway by donating school supplies for kids in Ethiopian schools. This past week the bags of supplies were passed out to each student in Ziway and Adami Tulu Ethiopia!! 

Looking at their happy faces assures me that the effort to get the supplies there was absolutely worth it.  Who doesn't love a new box of sharp crayons? Just looking at the color choices inspires even me, a professing craft failure to want to draw. For these Ethiopian students, they get to experience this probably for the first time in their lives. What a joy!

And I am thrilled that they get to have those moments of joy and happiness.

But what I really hope the bag of supplies shows to the students is more than excitement over new crayons.

I hope they realize there are people who care about them.  We live far away and can't reach out and physically hug them or change their tough life experiences.  But we care. We pray for them asking most of all that they will feel Jesus' love but also that He will provide for their basic needs.

Within these little bags, I hope the students also understand the value of the education they are receiving.  I can't send enough money to build them all nice homes or feed them nutritious meals, but I want them to know that if they continue persevering in their studies they can find a way to make a better life for themselves and their families through education.  Reading, writing, learning English and math skills, all of these will be their ticket for a good future.

These deeper truths will last long after the pencils and crayons become nubs.

Thank you so much for joining me in expressing love and hope to Ethiopian students!

Mad Letter

"Mom, are you going to write my teacher a mad letter?"

A mad letter? Why yes, I'm sure I have quite a few mad letters in me just waiting to come out!

Most likely he was thinking of my conversation with Walter after picking up a pizza on Sunday.  I will not name the pizza establishment because we love it and will continue going there...and I reserve my right to continue to complain about this one issue every week. But I will say at this particular place, they make the pizza in front of you and you take it home to bake (got it?).

Allow me a chance to vent the frustration we have with this pizza place. 

Our kids only eat pepperoni pizza (maybe cheese, but that would get plenty of grumbles). Asher has been known to refuse to eat a pepperoni pizza because his slice had a half piece of pepperoni from where I had cut the pie in pieces. This is a ridiculous approach to pizza, but we accept it because the idea is for us to have one grumble free meal a week, which is pizza on Sunday evenings while watching a show.

I can tell this post is going to get way long, I apologize, but I'm going to explain my story!

So I call ahead to order our pizza when we leave church so it will be ready for pick up by the time we get across town to run in and get it on our way home. When I call, the kind PM employee will state the special pizza of the day and I will often choose that. But I will ask for half to be pepperoni and half to be the magnificent combo of sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, mushrooms and whatever else they include in the on sale combination of the week.

Sometimes they state they intend to charge me extra for half to be just pepperoni and the other half to be sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, mushrooms... In this case, I usually choose to get all pepperoni and forget the sale sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, and mushrooms.  But sometimes there is no mention of charging me extra so I go ahead with my half pepperoni/half sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, and mushrooms request.

This inconsistency in sometimes charging me for the substitution and sometimes not charging me drives me crazy in itself. Not to mention that they want to charge me more for actually taking less toppings (rather than having a whole pizza of sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, and mushrooms, I am asking for them to only give me half of those yummy toppings and half just plain pepperoni).

But this week, I ordered the pizza with half sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, and mushrooms, and half pepperoni and there was no mention of extra charge.  When I arrived to pay for the pizza, the PM employee informed me she was going to charge me extra because I had an extra topping.  We both looked at my pizza and I saw half of it with sausage, deli pepperoni, Parmesan, red onions, and mushrooms, and the other half with sad looking plain pepperoni and I laughed at the idea that the side with just pepperoni was going to cost me more because it was an "extra" ingredient.

She must have understood the ridiculousness and without further argument took off the extra charge.

Still! I arrived back to my family in the van ranting about the crazy logic and inconsistency of sometimes wanting to charge me for this "extra topping" and sometimes not. And how crazy they are for wanting to charge me more for taking less ingredients!  I proclaimed that I was going to write a letter to the company describing my problem.  My only hold back was explaining this all on paper in a respectful succinct way.  (And you might agree I do need some work on explaining this problem after reading this post.)

Asher heard all of my expressions to Walter and obviously internalized this idea of writing a "mad letter."

So when I began getting frustrated over not understanding why he urgently needed headphones for school which he has not yet used, he suggested I write a letter to his teacher wondering why she was "wanting all of the moms to go out and waste money."

In fact, he finished his meal, asked to be dismissed, and immediately went to work writing this mad letter for me.

So now all we need to do is get a stamp on that envelope and send it on its way.

And all I need to do is copy and paste this pizza frustration into a new mad letter document and send it on its way too!

staying for now

Seriously? It's the end of September and I am just returning to you, oh faithful blog friend?  I think about you all of the time and what I want to say on you, but somehow those ideas remain ideas and I wonder if I should give up this whole blogging and writing thing for this season or if once I stop I'll never return?

I've stopped before and when I come back I can't believe I ever stopped writing. There's an energy that comes out in this process that my brain forgets when it's not experiencing it.

Like running. I haven't ran in over a year, really? that long! In fact I don't even have good running shoes right now. I fondly remember that feeling of release when I get out there for a good run. Once I start I think I'll never stop again.  But I do. I have.

I believe someday something will click. Maybe my love of being yelled at during bootcamp will end. I might pick out some expensive new running shoes or maybe the lure of fresh air and alone time will entice me to get out there again.

Something like that could happen with writing. That super cute bird journal in my newest favorite color might persuade me to pick up a pen again. One of the kids could say something adorable that I must remember, or God might fill my heart with an insight I would be a fool to allow myself to forget.

Or I might simply have to force myself to do it. When it becomes work does that mean I need a break? Should I let it go when I have to force make myself to sit down and not get up until something productive happens (productive does not equal browsing recipes I hope to make or finding craft projects I only dream of doing).

What do you do when there is not enough time to be creative? Is it worth forcing through the block or would it be better just to take a break?

Not sure, but I think I will miss you if I let you go...so for now you will stay.


 

Preschool here and there

Amelie hung up her bag on her hook and enthusiastically talked about playing at the sand table. Wearing her new bubble skirt and coordinating striped shirt with flowers, her headband matched one of those blue flowers. Adorable and so excited she didn't look back for a second.

Because she attends preschool at our church the classrooms are ones she frequents on Sundays.  The same yet different. Different kids, different teachers, activities reserved just for preschool fill the room. Asher met one of his best friends his first year of preschool and I wonder which of the five classmates will be that special friend for Amelie.

Nerves and excitement are running high here, but one thing we aren't nervous about is the opportunity for her education. 

My mind boggles considering the number of preschools in town.  With classtimes available to fit any schedule and meet whatever religious or secular choice I want, there are many many possibilities to choose from.

My mom told me today of the preschool registration she participated in this week.

On the other side of the world, hundreds of moms lined up in the muddy rain hoping to secure a spot for their child to attend preschool.  For them, preschool isn't about sandtables, gym time, and snacks.  Instead it marks the beginning of a child's opportunity...or not.  Being registered and having a spot in a quality school where fees are affordable and two nutritious meals a day are served means their child has opportunity and hope that others don't have. 

Hearts are broken, tears are shed, parents get angry.
The stakes are high.
The number of available chairs simply can't match the number of kids who want to come.

I wish I could fill the extra spots in Amelie's preschool with Ethiopian boys and girls.  I wish the opportunities could spread around just like that. 

I wish everyone had access to a first day of preschool.

Thankful today for the gift of education for my children.