I dance in my kitchen

      

I dance in my kitchen a lot.  After I put the kids to bed, I turn up my rockin' out tunes, and while I'm sweeping the never quite clean floor, and taking part in that circle of life that is dishwashing (they're never all clean, it's just a rotating circle of sink, to dishwasher, to cupboards, repeat!) I dance.  Not well, of course.  I'm no dancer.  I took 1 tap/ballet class for a month or so when I was 6, and then my DH took me to a ballroom dance class one time during the early stages of dating, when he wasn't yet sure if he should admit he hates dancing.  So I'm no good.  But I love it anyway.  I'm like Baloo the Bear, from Disney's The Jungle Book.  I hear the groove, and I have to move.  It slows down my kitchen cleanup a bit, but it's a nice stress reliever too.  I twist, I shake, I bounce, and I lose myself in the beat for a few minutes.

I realized the other day, that I don't do this all the time.  It's a deployment thing.  I don't know if it's because I'm too self-conscious to completely let loose like that in front of my husband, or maybe I'm worried he'll be annoyed with the loud music.  I've never given it enough thought to know why.  But it got me thinking.  Are there other things I'll miss when he comes home?  Am I even allowed to miss anything about this temporary husbandless existence of mine?

It's strange trying to think about that.  My inner-self splits into two personalities.  One is the loving wife, do-anything-for-your-marriage-and-life-is-miserable-without-him side, and the other is my feminist, you-don't-need-a-man-to-complete-you (add a snap and body roll to that) side.  The feminist tries to think of things I've enjoyed while he was gone, and the loving wife side jumps in and stops those thoughts saying, "It doesn't matter!!!" or "You just did that to pass the time while he was away!!"

It's an odd conflict, and I'm not sure either side ever wins.  Probably because they both are a part of me.  However, I think I will let the feminist have her day, and make my list.  But to pacify the loving wife, I'll add the disclosure that I'd trade the entire list right now for even just snuggling on the couch with my husband, watching football that I'm sort of paying attention to.  Wait- make that college basketball.  Football season is over.  I forgot.  Obviously he's been gone awhile.  ESPN.com and Cougarboard aren't even on our google chrome most visited pages list anymore!!!  They have been replaced with Pinterest, Facebook, Amazon, and the Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines page.  

1.  Online shopping.  I do, of course, still buy things when he's home, but when he's gone I have the "I'm lonely so I'm sending myself a package" excuse.  It's a fabulous excuse, even if half the wearable things get returned because it turns out I don't look as much like the model as I thought I did.

2.  Fast Food.  I cook well when I have a husband to eat it.  Otherwise, I'm not ashamed to admit fast food happens a lot.  Enough for my 4 year old to sigh with happiness and say, "I love drive-thru's!"  It's too frustrating cooking for myself and 3 minis.  Unless it's pancakes, waffles, one of the many forms of hot dogs (hot dogs, corn dogs, pigs in a blanket, chili dogs, hot dogs cut up with beans) or frozen chicken nuggets, someone wont eat it.  Healthy meals I either have to eat myself for a week (because I don't know how to cut my family recipes down) or end up throwing it out.  Both are not ideal.  So fast food and pizza have been our friends.  Don't judge 'till you've walked the 4 month mile.  Or the two month mile, times 7.  

3.  The sewing bug.  I've caught it a few times this deployment, and have made several satisfying projects that make me want to smile, snap a picture, post it somewhere and proclaim, "Yeah, I made that!".  It's not so satisfying however staying up late trying to finish something, while my husband is in bed wondering when sewing became more attractive than him.  When he's gone however, I can stay up 'till 2 am guilt free, finishing up something adorable.

4.  Chick Flicks.  They replace the 4 games of football/basketball/baseball going on simultaneously on the iPad, computer, TV, and phone.  I cry at the good parts, without making anyone concerned for my emotional stability, and don't have to tune out the teasing banter about the obvious lacking in masculinity of the male heroes in my beloved favorite films.  Edward, Mr. Darcy, Tad Hamilton, and the others are safe.

5.  Reading without stopping.  I don't have it in me to give up reading when my DH comes home, but I do try a little harder not to get so lost in my books, that I don't notice he went to bed 3 hours ago.  It's happened, I'm ashamed to say.  But when he's gone, I don't need to use any caution.  No reason to rush off to a cold, lonely bed.  It's not going anywhere, unlike the plot of my book!

6.  Girl Time.  It's much easier planning in girl time, because I can do it pretty much 24-7.  My schedule is wide open.  Virtually.  The kids do have a few things.  But for the most part, when a girlfriend wants to hang out, the answer is most emphatically, "yes!"

7.  Spaghetti, Shepherd's Pie, Chili, Taco Soup.  When I do get around to cooking, I make what I like, and don't need to compromise two sets of tastes.

Seven is a lucky number, so I'll stop there.  I can't think of anything else major at the moment anyway.

To my amazing husband when his internet works long enough to read this, I miss you like a dieter misses doughnuts, like pot roast misses salt, like a city night misses stars, like a Virginia girl living in the desert would miss trees.  Lots and lots.  But, I am a trained resilient girl, and am learning to look for the good things in any situation.  I've found a few, that keep me happy and busy when I'm missing you.  But sleep well knowing none of them come close to spending time with the most important person in my world.

It came, still the same

I grow tired every year of the commonly accepted and shared idea both on TV and even among Christians, that for one reason or another, Christmas this year may not come.  In the movies, it's usually tied to some sort of tragedy that may yet happen to Santa Claus.  Among Christians, you hear them mention that Christmas may not come to certain underprivileged families if it weren't for our charity.

The Santa Claus idea, is of course, ridiculous.  Didn't the Grinch already try that?  He posed as Santa, and undid all of his work.  We all know the story, right?  He sat on the cliff of Mt. Crumpit, with his sleigh full of stolen holiday gifts, and waited for the crying in the Whoville valley to begin.  But it did not.

"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch, "that I simply must hear!"
He paused, and the Grinch put a hand to his ear
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow
It started in low . . .
. . . then it started to grow . . . 

But this--this sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded . . . glad! 

Every Who down in Whoville,
the tall and the small,
was singing--without any presents at all! 

He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming--it came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same."

Dr. Doofenshmirtz also tried to destroy Christmas.  In that great modern animated marvel that is Phineas and Ferb, he created a "naughty-inator", that marked the entire town of Danville as naughty, and thus causing Santa to skip their town.  But as he plays his Secret-Santa gifted CD of Music by Sal Tuscany, he hears the lyrics rise in volume, "Christmas cannot be destroyed!  Not even by a naughty-inator!!!"

It isn't destroyed, of course.  Phineas and Ferb feel a rush of charitable Christmas Spirit, and with the help of little elves and good friends, they deliver the toys themselves, only to realize Santa was there all along, enjoying their rest stop they created for him on their roof.  Santa thanks them for "doing the Danville run", which allowed him a nice little break.  He hints at a higher order of things, that despite evil schemes, cannot be taken away from us at Christmastime.

In times of tragedy, war, or great sadness, we can be tempted to skip Christmas, or even doubt it's meaning.  Longfellow wrote the poem and now beloved Christmas carol, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, on December 25, 1864, during the American Civil War.  It was right after his son was severely injured in a battle, and the recent tragic death of his wife in a fire.

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent
And made forlorn
The households born

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

In the midst of war, and sorrow, he felt all Christianity had been drowned out by the sound of cannons, and the cries of families, now husband and fatherless.  But then the music of the bells ring a message of eternal truth, piercing to the soul.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men"

Longfellow knew, as all good Christians must, that Christmas cannot ever be destroyed.  It cannot be destroyed, because the Savior came.  He was born, he lived!!  He lived a perfect life, of charity, of peace, of sacrifice.  He sacrificed himself for all of us, and he was murdered, betrayed by his own.  But not even death could hold him.  After three days, our Lord and Savior, rose again.  He was resurrected.  He lives!!!  He conquered pain, sin, sadness, and death.  He returned in all His glory, and we all love and worship Him, most especially on Christmas.

We don't need any of the fun traditions, colors, gifts, music, movies, or frills that come with Christmas, to celebrate it's meaning.

"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling.  How could it be so?
It came without ribbons!  It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes or bags! 

And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store?
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?"

Christmas means so much more.  Christmas is the meaning behind why we are here, our purpose in life, and where we are going after this.  Christmas is about the Savior, and following Him.  No amount of sad circumstances or loss can take away the miracle of Jesus Christ.  Not war, not poverty, not absence of loved ones, or even lack of faith or believing, can ever do that.  Christmas cannot be destroyed.

"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!"

The gift of our Savior is free to everyone and anyone who will take upon themselves His name, and try to live like Him.  His gift is perfect, eternal, and will be denied to no one who comes to Him.

Good Christians try to reach out to friends and neighbors during Christmastime, and the love shared during this season is beautiful and inspiring.  But we are not saving Christmas when we share with the needy and less fortunate.  Because there is nothing to save.  The saving has already been done.

Even the forgotten, or those out of our reach, suppressed and imprisoned by tyrants, warlords, and other evil people who attempt to hurt, abuse, and destroy, can still be touched by the gift the Savior has given us.  While we cannot help them, the Savior can, and has.  There is nothing any being can do to deny the gifts of our Savior.  

To quote a great Easter hymn, He is Risen:

He is risen! He is risen!
Tell it out with joyful voice.
He has burst his three days' prison;
Let the whole wide earth rejoice.
Death is conquered; man is free.
Christ has won the victory. 

This year my family celebrated Christmas.  We couldn't all be together in the same room, but we celebrated just the same.  We were happy.  We found peace in the gift of our Savior.  We felt the eternal bonds of our family stretch across the world, keeping us together.  Christmas was not destroyed because someone was missing.  Our tiny family celebrated the gift our Savior, that began on a silent, sacred, holy night.  We are grateful for His love and sacrifice.  We know He loves our family.  We understand that our joy and blessings come through Him.  We were able to see, on that sacred day, that those blessings are precious, and are many.

So from our home to yours, may we quote the words of Santa Claus, who understands more than the movies of our time give him credit, "Merry Christmas to ALL, and to ALL, a goodnight."

May you find joy and peace in the gift that was yours before you were born, 2,013 years ago.
    

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the Patience

The cute but seemingly clueless Italian admirer of Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner gave her a surprising bit of wisdom that I found myself repeatedly quoting in my head tonight.  He said to her, "You need to learn the patience.  Sometimes love, is just love"

I'm not sure exactly what the "love is just love" part meant, but over and over I've been repeating in my head, "you need to learn the patience".

The phrase "parenthood requires patience" is sort of a burned out phrase.  We all hear it, and think, "well yes, of course it does."

However I always imagined that meant being patient when your toddler wakes up with nightmares, being patient when milk is spilled on the floor, patiently teaching your kids to clean up their toys, or not argue.  Those occasions do require patience, it's true, and yet they don't even begin to describe the word.

There are many "Patience is . . . . stories we all can tell about our kids.  Here's mine for tonight.

Patience is when your daughter is Reading Hop on Pop, and on every 8 word page, she pauses to analyze the picture for 30 seconds, reads the words, comments on the picture,"Look!  They're hopping on his tummy!!!  That's so silly!"
and then asks a question about it, with the expectation of a fully drawn out answer.

Anny:"Why are they hopping on their Dad?"
Me:"I don't know, to be silly I guess"
Anny: "Don't they know it can hurt?"
Me: "Maybe they didn't think about that"
Anny: "Why wouldn't they think about that?"
Me: "I'm not sure.  Maybe they're naughty kids"
Anny: "Why are they naughty kids?"
Me: "I don't know Anny, it's just a story"
Anny: "Don't they love their Daddy?  Jumping on him is not nice..."

At this point I have turned the page, looking at the remaining 30 or so pages left, and thinking over and over, "the patience, the patience, you need to learn the patience...."

I didn't start the book with this attitude.  I opened it with anticipation, thinking "I'm pretty sure she can read this, I love my daughter, she's so smart, this is going to be so fun hearing her read the bedtime story all by herself!"

On the first page as she scans the picture I think, "Look at her analyzing the scene, that's a sign of great reading comprehension, and something I should encourage!"

However by page 32, we've gone through a similar routine 32 times, varied occasionally by her fixing her hair for a minute, and then pausing to scratch her foot.  Then she'll begin again to analyze the picture, read the words, and have an in depth conversation about it.  If Merrylee interrupts her we sometimes get to go through the routine twice per page, because she gets distracted and feels she must begin again.  No need to remind her she's already scanned this picture, after all- this is a sign of great reading comprehension, and something I should encourage, right??? 

There are 64 pages in that book.

I love Dr. Seuss, but what was he thinking?!!!  Obviously he never had kids.  Ten pages would have been generous.

I could create an entire new blog dedicated to Patience is ... parenting moments.  Perhaps I could do one about how a short blog entry takes two hours to write because every five minutes my baby starts fussing and wants to be held, and typing with one hand is hard.

Sometimes being a mother is delightful, and blissfully sweet.

Sometimes blissfully sweet takes too long, it's an hour past bedtime, and Mom's exhausted.

Someday I will learn "the patience".  Maybe.

A little bit more

My hubbie had a late flight tonight.  By late, I mean it's past midnight, and it'll still be a few hours before he's home.  A good mother will have had her kids sound asleep for hours, a tidy house, dishwasher running, and getting some beauty sleep herself.  I'm 0 for 4.  Bad score, I know.   

Right at about dinner time I felt my energy crash.  I talked myself into taking a tiny cat nap.  With no husband to have dinner ready for tonight, I figured a twenty minute delay in our evening ritual wouldn't be a big deal. 

It wasn't twenty minutes. 

I was slightly aware of the girls coming up to me at different times with complaints about each other.  When consciousness fully hit me, it was 8:00pm.  With this afternoons' craft project still spread out on the kitchen table, a very messy playroom that had spread to the rest of the house and sink full of dirty dishes, I sighed. 

I really had no other choice.  I knew what I had to do.   

I made dinner, laid out a picnic blanket in the living room, and turned on a princess movie.  We ate several helpings of spaghetti and meat sauce, too much garlic bread, and cupcakes.  Merrylee giggled through the funny scenes of the movie, Anny questioned the meanings of the sad parts, and they both snuggled during the scary moments.  We all (even Merrylee- it was cute) cooed at the romantic lines.  My babies got to bed after 10:30.

Now it's after midnight, and I still have crafts on the kitchen table, a sink full of dirty dishes, and a messy playroom that has spread to the rest of the house.

I really had no other choice.  I knew what I had to do... and you're reading it! 

Happy blogging my friends.  Here's to cleaner houses, hours of sleep, and all the other good things we should be doing right now.  That can all can wait so I can share my thoughts with you.  I'm so glad I broke the rules.  Tonight was all about me and my girls, and I wouldn't have traded it for the world. 

And the mom, with her mom-feet in flip flops of pink,

stood puzzling and puzzling, knew not what to think!

It came without planning.  It came without nags. 

It came without makeup, cellphones, or scrubbing with rags!

And she puzzled and puzzled 'till her puzzler was sore.   

Then the Mom thought of something she hadn't before.  

Good parenting, perhaps, isn't about keeping score. 

Maybe parenting, she thought,

is a little bit more.  

 

It's the Climb

Day 4 of my husband's deployment, and already I feel heartbroken, and miss him like crazy. Yesterday was especially difficult, because I had to spend our 5th anniversary without him. We're being watched over though. Friends and family have reached out, calling, writing emails and notes of comfort, and giving us strength.

I spent the day of our anniversary keeping busy, cleaning, and taking care of the girls. That evening, we celebrated together, and had a girls night at home. I bought takeout from my favorite Italian restaurant, and rented a Chick Flick. The Hannah Montana movie, actually. I never would have guessed that silly movie would give me advice I needed to hear. She sings a song called The Climb.

Here's the music video, if you've never heard the song



The sweet and simple theme of the song reminded me that to stay happy during this lonely time, I need to find joy in the journey. It's not about enduring a challenging time, eyes focused on when it's over, it's about being happy no matter what circumstances you're in. Little Miley caught that presice theme in her song. Never thought I'd be among one of the screaming Hannah fans, but last night, I cheered and danced right along with my little girls, and celebrated the best 5 years of my life.

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Ode to Teenagers (the good ones)

I will shamelessly admit I am a fan of High School Musical. While I confess I like cheesy storylines and pop music, I think I'm drawn to the movie for different reasons. It illustrates a high school experience completely different from my own, and that's a good thing.

There is no shortage of cute high school flicks, with generic geeky and popular clicks. Sometimes the popular group is mean, but still these movies don't capture what high school is really like. They leave out the constant flow of profanity in the hallways. What about the never ending waft of marijuana coming from the bathrooms? Occasionally a film or TV show will show the metal detectors at the doorways, but they don't illustrate the regular violent scenes that forced the school administration to install them. What I saw growing up, were little girls, ages 14, 15, and 16, wearing skimpy, tight, and revealing clothing. I wish I could forget the nauseating displays of much-too-public affection in every corner. Now add hormones, insecurity, low self esteem, and make the halls more than a bit overcrowded with awkward bodies. The supposed role models that were my teachers and administrators spent more time teaching about "personal expression", "free speech", and "self discovery" than history and literature. Books with high morals were taken out the school library for fear of "offending". Required reading often contained language and scenes most of the students couldn't legally view in movies without a fake ID. What about Prom night, when the kids are dressed up and supposedly displaying better behavior? The girls came dressed in trashy, too short gowns, showing off their much too young, not-quite-adult bodies. There weren't sweet and romantic slow songs. The kids were bored by those. They demanded from the DJ fast trashy tunes so they could try out the latest dirty dance move they saw on a rap music video. Not a recipe for positive growth, or "best time of your life" experiences. Some of you may think I'm describing some scary inner city school. I'm not. I'm describing what I and 2,000 other students saw everyday in the 3rd richest county in the United States. And that was what it looked like 10 years ago. I can only imagine what the high school experience has become now.

Yet still, amongst all the sleaze, there were and still are boys and girls who refuse to join in. They too are tempted to use profanity when they're frustrated, embarrassed, or angry. But they don't. They have the same awkward bodies as their peers, but keep them covered, and treat them with respect. The same powerful hormones pull them towards the opposite sex, but they keep their feelings in check enough to control their actions. Instead of making fun of others in an attempt look better, they avoid gossip, and encourage their friends to make good decisions. They don't know the taste of beer, and have no idea how much cigarettes cost. No one even invites them to parties with alcohol and drugs, and they're grateful for that. After school hours for these few are filled with practicing sports and musical instruments, volunteer work, service projects, and regular studying for classes. They don't know who they are any more than the other kids. But they know who they want to be, and they make their decisions accordingly. They are often lonely, and rarely respected or praised for this continuous battle they fight everyday. Their drive to live better comes from great faith in God, and their strength is fueled by loving parents and family. They are happy, and everyone can see it. If they are remembered in any way among their peers, it's how they were positive, uplifting, and cheerful.

Here's to those boys and girls who made it through those horrible 4 years unscathed. You may have felt lonely then, but you definitely weren't and are not alone. And to those still living the nightmare, stay true to your faith, and never forget who you really want to be after graduation. Because much to the disappointment of those who in some twisted way hope high school will last forever, it doesn't.