Green disks and other parenting practices

This one is for Amanda, and I'm turning it into a tag because I learn so much when I find out how people raise their kids. This post is about chores, allowances, and attitude and how I deal with them for now--it's always evolving.

In October 2007 I went to my first Hearts at Home conference, a conference for moms. I was excited to go get "mom training." After all, I spent fours years in college for teaching, and I only did that for three years. The only mom training I'd been through was more labor training and infant care, than true mom training. I loved the conference. One of the workshops was called Winning the Chore War. The speaker wasn't helpful until the last five minutes. She had this chore chart which I fell in love with. It had pegs and pictures of chores and names and times and ways for dealing with attitude. I loved it. I could have made my own, but it wouldn't be as durable and I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn't do it anyway. I spent $60 on that chart and the accessories and while I still cringe to type the figure, I would do it again. It's been worth it if only to have access to the chart and to make myself think through these things.

I am continually evolving how I use my chart, but the one constant has been the green disk system. Constant meaning I continually intend to use the green disk system; my actually consistency has room for improvement. The chore chart lists the daily and weekly chores: put your clothes away, put your school stuff away, put your toys away, set the table (3-4 times a week) or clear the table (3-4 times a week), put clean folded clothes away. New chores we just added: sweeping 3-4 times a week, making beds. My intention is to eventually work myself out of job. I probably won't ever make my girls do all the housework at once every often, but I want them to learn all the tasks so they can be independent and responsible. Once they actually get good at sweeping, I might start teaching them to clean the sink, etc. and take sweeping off the list for a while.

Chores at my house are a requirement, part of obedience, part of being a member of the family. They are not optional which is why allowance is not tied to chores. I don't want my girls to reach age 14 and get so much money from babysitting that they think they don't need their allowance so they stop doing chores. Allowance is also part of being in our family and a big part of how I teach my girls about money. They each have a large plastic bank with three compartments--one for giving, one for saving, and one for spending. Currently the girls each get half their age in allowance. I read once that kids should get their age in allowance, but that's too expensive for us right now. The girls have to save some and give some, though they get to choose where they give. The spending money is up to them though I've been giving H more forced choices lately. Like yesterday, a friend invited H to the gymnastics place for a open play time. The cost was $6.50 and I made H spend her own money if she wanted to go. I also made the girls spend their own money to buy each other gifts this year. And for gymnastics lessons, H wanted a new leotard. I told her I was paying for the lessons, she could buy the leotard. And she did. The only thing I haven't figured out is what they are saving for...college, the distant future,.....Tom and I need to work that detail out.

And the green disks? They are for attitude. At any given time, the girls have behavior goals: to stop whining so much, to react with respect when corrected, to answer adults when they ask a question, to complete chores with a happy heart. The goals are unique to the child and the time and I change them whenever it seems appropriate. If a goal is met, the girls get a little green disk to put by their name on the chore chart. Five green disks equals a privilege. We have a privilege jar, I usually find six choices that I can deal with at the time and let them pick which one they want. The privileges range from fun: private bike rides with dad, wrestle time, pillow fight (things we should do but often forget), extra stories at bed time, get out of chores for the day to treats: pick your favorite fruit at the store, pick your favorite cereal, get a pop, get a tattoo, paint your nails and toes with the special glittery nail polish, etc. The TV cart at Mejier used to be a favorite privilege when they were younger. You get the idea. Sometimes I add or subtract privileges to the jar, like when I found a backpack of Littlest Pet Shops at Aldi for cheap, I added Pick a Pet Shop to the privilege list. I also give green disks to reward kindness....helping when no one asks, sharing something that is hard to share, or having the idea to call a friend who was home sick. They are not allowed to ask for disks but sometimes, they perform for acts of kindness for them. I generally acknowledge the acts anyway, I want kindness and sharing to be a habit. (Lately, Hadley likes to make my bed..the first time I gave her a disk even though I knew why she made my bed. The second time, I told her she had to add one more helpful thing to the bed making...she put some of my dirty clothes down the laundry chute!). And I never take a disk away. This system is for rewarding things done well, and even if in five minutes H is rolling her eyes at me, her accomplishment still stands. Generally the green disk system is super flexible, reusable, and easy for me to manipulate as the girls grow and change.

So blogging friends, I tag you. What do you do about chores, allowances, and reinforcing good behavior? Stephanie? Tracie? Amber?

Overheard

Glucometer readings are not too exciting so I thought I would post again. This time about H, who is thrilled to have her first wiggly tooth. She is one of the last kids in her class to get a wiggly tooth, and is bouncy excited. I think she has said, " I love my wiggly tooth" about 25 times today. And since K took all the quotes, last time, here are some gems from H, who as a reminder is 6 1/2.

Me: H do you know how long mommy and daddy have been married?
H: no
Me: Eleven years.
H: That's not very long. I thought you would say like 100.


H: Mommy, do you like to go swimming?
Me: Not really, I always get cold.
H: You should like swimming because you can pretend to be a mermaid.

H: Mommy, can you open this banana for me?

As H sunk under the warm bathtub water with a contented smile she whispered, " I love my new water heater!" A child after my own heart.

Here's one from K, our 4-year-old that I don't want to forget so I'll add it on.
K:I always (pause) almost, sometimes eat my dinner don't I mommy?

Numbers

A day late. Thanks for the benefit of the doubt, I didn't forget Amanda--just ignored it. I've been procrastinating. Why check my numbers when they don't make sense? (they were all great this week). Why check them when there is no one on the other end giving me feed back? I know I make you groan. I know I am missing the point. Logic doesn't always penetrate feelings. I only did four readings this week, and two of them were yesterday. It's good to know that a couple of you noticed my missing numbers. If you hadn't I might be tempted to give up. How long does it take to form a habit?
Fasting 115, 127 (this is the easiest one for me to remember to take so I did it twice)
Breakfast 106 (two flax and fig waffles with just butter and 1/2 a grapefruit)
Lunch skipped
Dinner 119 (pork chop, peppers, 1/2 cup of sliced roasted potatoes, 3 cups of buttery popcorn...I really thought this number would be higher)

I also took one about three hours after breakfast one day because I felt so weird...it was low, for me anyway, 82, a little fruit restored my energy and my sense of balance.

Dec 27

I woke up this morning to low rumblings of thunder, rain, and fog. There was also a roof leak in the mud room ( yes from the new flat roof ). And the good news: sugar-free truffles and a love note from my hubby in honor of our 11th anniversary. We'll go to dinner when our free babysitters are back in town!

Progress?

T is competitive. That statement is so plain and simple. Those who know T are probably laughing, because while the statement is true, it feels restrained. But he is growing.

When we were dating, I was visiting his family home for Christmas. T and I were playing a card game called Mil Bornes. There isn't much strategy involved, mostly luck. But I cleaned his clock, twice. He stormed out the room without a word. I had never seen an adult display such behavior. I play to have fun. T thinks games are boring if you don't win.

On our honeymoon, which was a cruise ship, we would play ping pong and whenever I was ahead, he would use psychological tactics to break my concentration and I would lose. Every time. As an only child who never had any athletic or musical talent, competition wasn't part of my life. He made me angry.

So as a general rule, I found it healthiest if T and I didn't play games together. At least not just the two of us. If we found ourselves in a social setting that required game playing. I did my best to be on the other team so I could avoid the looks and the comments that said, "You did what?" Regardless of the game or the sport, T's team usually won. He just has that killer instinct.

Thus went the first 10 years of our marriage. And now there is this year. T still wins most things. But there are changes. We have found a few games like Tri-Bond (thanks Amanda) where we actually like being on the same team. T has toned down his competitive language around me. And he let's the girls "beat" at foosball often. We all know that he let's the losing occur, that the score would be 10-0 if T wanted, but he uses his almost daily game with the girls to develop his foosball finesse. I am certain he would have been unable to let the girls win just three years ago.

I've changed too. I didn't have a competitive bone in my body until I married T. Now the only person I really want to beat is T. And it happens about once in a while, more frequently lately! I beat him twice at pool over Thanksgiving. And today all four of us went bowling, T was snidely saying things like, "That's what I like to see" when I would throw a gutter ball or knock down only three pins. It was odd behavior, given that Tom is usually so far ahead of me in bowling that he only watches my score to see if H will beat me. But I looked up in the eighth frame and I was winning. I could easily win. I was going to win. But I didn't. I needed to knock down more than four pins in the final frame and I choked. We tied (for the record, it was like my third highest score ever). These days, I've found my competitive spirit--to beat Tom---at anything. And it's fun.

Merry Christmas

It's quiet. The sun, yes that glorious ball of light, finally came out for this day. How appropriate. It's just the four of us. I miss our families. And I don't. I like these moments--just us. T doesn't have any friends who have time to need him, and no pressing work. The girls have no activities. We went to a movie, made bracelets, opened presents and have just been together. T and the girls are outside playing. Bowling and ice skating are still on the list. And while I savor the togetherness I think of two of our grandmas, alone for the day, and countless others for whom today is a day like any other. And I long to reach out...wish I could bridge the distance and offer the joy of watching of my kids squeal through each step of this day. And finally a new feeling this Christmas, a strange one that is a testament to community through technology, before I start cooking I felt a need to check in with my blogging friends and family and say, Merry Christmas.

Desperate and then sort-of disappointed

Most people have addictions. There are the obviously dangerous ones like drugs and alcohol. Then there are others like Mountain Dew, coffee, tea, television, video games, or, gulp blogging. The saying about things being good in moderation can apply to almost anything. I think addictions can take away from our reliance on God because generally addictions are opiates, escapes from the daily grind, or the daily worries.

I used to be addicted to baths. It was a winter time addiction only. I would get so cold. And the the bathroom had locks. I could escape into a warm tub of water and read, letting my husband handle the issues in the other world. Many a book or magazine of mine has ended up wrinkled and warped due to wet hands. I used to take a bath about once a day. Then we moved here.

The water heater in this house won't fill the bathtub. There is nothing like a lukewarm bath to cure a bathing addiction. I was so desperate the other day for a bath, that I heated water in my biggest stock pot and carried the pot up the stairs. Wiping the splashes off the wooden stairs with my socks, I dumped it in the tub and enjoyed a bath in this house for the first time (we moved in a year and half ago). Last winter I used to pray that the water heater would break so we had to get a new one--God has answered in the affirmative now.

The water heater isn't broken but my prudent husband has decided it has to be replaced. We found the date of installation with a flashlight the other night. It is 31 years old. The people who install water heaters have never heard of one that old ( perhaps another day I will rant on how disturbing it is that now they make water heaters to last only about 12 years). The experts advise shutting the water heater off if we go on vacation because a heater that old will burst suddenly and flood the basement. They said it isn't filling the tub because there is probably a foot of mineral deposits in the bottom of the tank, taking up space. Rather than waiting for a flood and an emergency, we have decided to replace it.

My grandma sent a generous check to us for Christmas which will cover about half of the water heater. I had been dreaming of a new, used desk with that money, and maybe a chance to finally paint the walls of this house beautiful colors, but as usual practicality wins. I don't really need a new desk and thank goodness there hasn't been a flood. Since moving into this old house we replaced the roof, the flat roof, the furnace, the central air, the garage roof and now the water heater. We still have the original windows and an old stove. While sometimes I imagine decorating my house the way I want, which would require us to stop doing so much maintenance, I doubt I could ever fall in love with new construction. I have no regrets. I love the detail of this old house, not just the trim, but the secret pencil markings charting the growth of someone else's kids.

God is constantly reminding me that I have everything I need and more, and so much of what I wish for is unnecessary details. I love this house, white walls and all. And soon I will be able to take a bath again. Thanks God--you are so good. Thanks grandma.

Numbers

What a tough week to be diabetic. I go somewhere, or someone comes here, and there they are. The cookie plate. Cookies everywhere. If you are trying to diet, you know the issue. Yum, they look beautiful. And I had to make cookies this week for K. And I found that great recipe I wrote about yesterday. The dough and the cookies for K were delicious. I finally had to start chewing gum to keep from eating the dough. I tried to balance things out by eating mostly protein for meals so I could have a cookie here and there. I did ok. Except for Thursday. That was a bad day for sugar intake. So here's all the numbers. This week should be better...we don't have anywhere to go, which is good for blood sugar, not so great on my spirit. I start to miss my family.

Fasting 140

Breakfast 130 (Special K protein plus with cow's milk and sugar-free hot chocolate)

Lunch 145 (Tilapia, broccoli, 1/2 grapefruit, cottage cheese and too many wheat thins)

Dinner 151 (white chili, green beans and carrots, a clementine and a pumpkin muffin)

When I get so many numbers this close together sometimes I wonder if the meter is stuck. Usually a high or low will follow soon though. When I go see the doctor I should bring in my meter so they can test its accuracy, just because it hasn't been done in two years.

Oh and Kris... I ignored your demands=). You have to call me, like you said you would, and then maybe I will listen to you...

After Two Years of Duds

It snowed another 3 inches or so last night. Now the wind is whipping around and it is penetrate-the- down- jacket cold. The paper this morning said to expect more of the same for the rest of winter, which officially starts today (it started a month ago in my mind). I would be relaxing with something warm except my girls are out there, liable to be blown away, laughing as they climb up a snow mountain and then slide down. So I write and glance out the window and write some more. It reminds me of Christmas flavors and sights and sounds. Hot chocolate and cookies, blustering snow. Like the movies. My Christmases have rarely been this snowy.

And then I remembered my discovery. I want to share a recipe with my dear friends who have food issues. I've searched and never found a chocolate chip cookie recipe worth my time that was gluten-free. They always taste sandy, and are unpleasantly thin, like a wafer--not at all what I crave when thinking of a cc cookie. But my dear friends I found one. And gluten-eating folks, who don't even know what gluten is, eat these and say, "Yum." It took me a while to make this recipe as I didn't have Teff flour. Never even heard of it. I have sorghum, tapioca, rice, corn, potato, buckwheat, and amaranth flours. But not Teff. Turns out teff is the smallest grain in the world--so small they can't remove the bran and the germ so it's a great source of fiber which can be lacking in those starchy gluten-free flours. Buy some teff friends and try these cookies, they are worth it. Oh and the recipe calls for muscovado sugar, which is an unrefined dark brown sugar that gets its color from the sugarcane rather than from adding molasses to white sugar. But I just used normal brown sugar, it was still delicious. And the recipe? It is at the bottom of this long post on Shauna James's blog. You don't need to read the story behind the recipe, it is long. But Shauna is a a writer that I admire. Her phrasings are beautiful and she inspires me, the reluctant cook, to get in the kitchen. Enjoy. Merry Christmas to my gluten-free friends! Amanda will you tell Laurie?

Strange facts of the day:
It's been snowing now for 7.5 hours straight.
Brad pitt is 45 today. Shocker.

Christmas break survival

For my mom friends: I loved this post by Jill Savage on the Hearts at Home blog. It inspired me to make some Christmas break plans especially since we are not going anywhere and no family is coming up. Check it out. Oh and if you will be around, you are welcome to join us anytime!

Love

Our old computer just quit one day. No warning. It just wouldn't turn on. It wasn't a big deal because my grandma had given us her laptop and most of the time that's what we were using anyway. There is one document on there though that I want, am desperate about. I swear I saved it to a disk when we moved from Montana, but I can't find it. I thought I had emailed it to myself for safety, but I can't find it. I need a data retrieval expert.

This weekend, I moved the computer desk into the mud room in the back of the house. Our mud room is a large room, much too big for a mud room. But it's location, and the giant closet, make it a mud room no matter how we furnish it. It's a good room for a computer. A good room to write in. Big and sunny. Even though I liked working on the couch and even though it amused my friends that we stored the laptop under the couch, I like having the desk here. Flanked on either side of the computer are pictures of the girls- so even as they sleep and I blog in the quiet evening hours, I am reminded of my love for them.

And tonight I am overwhelmed. Maybe it is because I've spent three days at home with both girls, going no where, snuggling, wiping feverish brows, spooning up broths, and watching the normally wiggly little bodies, curled up on the couch, sleeping. When they wake up, rosy- cheeked, matted hair, tendrils of new curls around their face, they are the most beautiful children in the world. I am overwhelmed by the intensity of this love that exists for my children. They are so special and my heart aches when I realize that to most other people, they are just children. And forever I will desire for the world to see how special they are, to see what I see. I desire for them to see what I see, how every detail of who they are was known and created by God for a reason. I have never been so sure of God's hand in creation as I am in my children. How blessed I am to be their mother.

Sometimes, in these moments of overwhelming love, I wish I could capture them because I know my memory will fail, and not just of old age. Already the images, smells, developments of their infanthood exist mostly in what I have recorded in word or image. Those moments of life slip away from my memory like a freshly caught fish. I suppose if I could hang on to all of those memories, it might be too burdensome to move on, to follow Paul in " forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead." Either I would wallow in the past difficulties or yearn for the past pleasantries. But God has given me some skill with words and for month after month for almost five years I captured the intricacies of their developing personalities in words-- Like my posts a few weeks ago about each girl. And currently those writings are lost in that old computer. Maybe I am not meant to have such treasures, but maybe their is a skilled computer dude who can rescue them. Do you know any?

The arrival

H woke up yesterday morning sick--fever of 101 and a little cough. She laid around most the day, took some ibuprofen about 1 and seemed fine for the rest of the day. then this morning the fever was back and she only got off the couch to go to the bathroom. She missed her Holiday concert (but she didn't want to go anyway--too nervous to sing in front of an audience---she didn't even have a solo--just serious stage freight). K got a fever some time this afternoon. Hers isn't as high and she isn't sleeping as much, just whimpering a lot. I'd prefer the fever to a degree higher so she would sleep more. Two down. Hopefully not two to go.

Numbers

This week is a great example of why I need the accountability of my blogging friends. I put off all testing until yesterday and did it all in one day. And added one more fasting reading this morning. I wouldn't have done my testing at all if it wasn't for dear people who check in on Mondays. In fact, yesterday I didn't really like you. I wished I hasn't made this commitment. I know, it's good for me. And I really do like you.

There is something about winter, my blood is fickle. If the mention of blood makes you queasy, skip to the number. Sometimes when I prick my finger it comes out all watery, runny and hard to capture on that little stick. Other times, the pricker, which usually doesn't hurt much at all, will leave a poke that smarts for days. Or sometimes the little tiny prick won't stop bleeding and I won't notice and will get blood on some important paper. And then two times yesterday for some reason I couldn't get a reading so I had to do to two pokes for one reading. Poor me! I sound like my whiny children. Sorry.

Hadley was down with a fever yesterday as I took all these readings. It ended up being a high carb day as I was a cleaning fool and went with the quick food and the leftovers. The living room is rearranged and all the bathrooms are clean. Plus, my poor decision to allow the kids to have fun in the packing peanuts the day before required multiple rounds of vacuuming. And I am still finding little pieces of styrofoam here and there. I should have taken a picture though because those little styrofoam peanuts static cling to all parts of a child's body--we even vacuumed their hair!

Here are my numbers
Fasting 162 yesterday, 116 (today)---I can't explain the 116...it's great but very inconsistent with my other fastings--what was different?
Post-breakfast 115 (hot oat bran with Splenda, milk, walnuts, and blueberries)
Post-lunch 164 (6 pizza rolls, cottage cheese)
Post-dinner 158 (salad with cucumber, lettuce and Italian dressing, homemade mac and cheese with brown rice noodles)

Christmas Tree

I have been tagger. For those who don't blog, the idea of a tag is get your blogging friends to answer certain questions to post certain kinds of pictures. This tag was for a picture of our Christmas tree. It's artificial and purchased last year from my neighbor who couldn't get rid of it at her summer garage sale! It's actually the perfect height and nice and narrow, great for our living room. I do love the smell of a real tree, but this one is kinder to our budget. Most of our ornaments are made by the girls and most of them are stars, since that is what shepherds and learned men followed to the baby Jesus. I do love my tree, but I don't get its connection to Christmas, just seems like a fun thing to do. Without further ado, here is my tree (revealing the fact that I still have no curtains in my living room), and two of the ornaments the girls made this year.

Nuances of Behavior

When K started playing soccer, I was struck by discrepancies in parents' language. Four-year-olds have been told most of their life---share, don't grab, don't be rough. Then we put them on the soccer field and start telling them to steal the ball, don't let that other girl get the ball, break through the mob(aka be rough). One girl on K's team last fall consistently cried early in the season because the other girls weren't sharing. Well honey, I'm afriad the rules change in a few select environments.

Soccer isn't the only place where our carefully taught lessons run amuck. I remember when H was toddling, she kept sharing her sippy cup with other kids. I wondered how confusing it was for her to have me praise toy sharing and yell "NO!" with sippy cup sharing.

And this morning H accused K of lying, K was playfully poking H when her back was turned and then denying the poke. H was mad because she knew K had poked her. I tried to explain that adults play this game, they will tickle a kid or hide a toy behind a back and claim to have no part in the event. Than they do it again when the child's not looking. It's more like playing a trick than lying I told H. Often, adults push these games just to the point of upsetting a kid. Why do we do this? I rethought my answer and my many admonitions to stop doing something if your sister doesn't like it, and the line or appropriateness is very faint, perhaps a bit mobile and so hard to explain.

Hand in Mouth

H is 6 1/2. She still puts things in her mouth constantly. Small plastic toys, nasty rubber bands, food that has been there for days, her fingers, her clothing and she would eat her hair if it was long enough. She picks her nose. She digs in her ear and today she confirmed my suspicion that she has been biting her fingernails. Way too many bad habits. I've explained the hygiene aspect of it. But she doesn't really care. I could punish the behavior which might get her so she only does it in private. But I don't love that idea. These habits are so gross and the longer they are done the harder they are to stop. Can I help her now? How do we stop these awful habits? Or do I have to wait until she wants to stop them? Any suggestions?

The Christmas Spirit

It's been many years since I have actually enjoyed Christmas. It bothers my conscience. I love the idea of Christmas, think the cookie baking and the present giving are fun. But I struggle because Christmas is about a small baby born in Bethlehem who forever changed the relationship we can have with God. Supposedly. So why do celebrate in such a way that encourages my children to be greedy? Why does almost everyone, regardless of their beliefs, celebrate Christmas in the same way in this country? So every year I struggle. How do I make this meaningful? Can I redeem the the value of this holiday or is it too entrenched in American lore and materialism?

I've read books like Lisa Whelchel's ADVENTure of Christmas which gives history of all the the little things we do and tries to bring meaning to them. Each year we package shoe boxes for kids in impoverished countries. We usually adopt a family or individual off the United Way list and bring them gifts. Still, in my heart, I doubt the once a year show of generosity or the lavish decorations pleases God at all. I suspect that the mad rush to the mall in the name of Christmas sickens Him since we claim it is done in His honor. Much Christmas giving is an excuse to acquire more stuff and to keep up with the neighbors.

Last week I finished Marjorie Holmes' book Two from Galilee. It's a fictional book first published more than 30 years ago about Mary and Joseph. Using historical research she tells the story of their lives, how they came together, their thoughts as each had a messenger from God appear and deliver the news of Jesus's coming. I don't always love these Biblical fiction books. I forge the Biblical account and the fictional account together, more in my thinking than in my action. The fiction forever shapes my ideas, though I will it not to. All the same, this book delivered peace to my Christmas-wary heart this season. I can't stop thinking about Mary, as a mother, the incredible scriptures about the messiah weighing in her heart and wondering how this precious, nursing baby could be destined for so much pain. About birthing a baby in a stable and then, days later having wise men come to worship the infant and then advise us to flee, from all that is familiar, to Egypt. I am able to relax, find awe in those once-dreaded-for-their-over-use carols, and worship. A calmness has replaced my usual Christmas tension. The way Christmas is celebrated hasn't changed, but somehow, incredibly, I have.

We try to decorate our tree with ornaments that relate to the Christmas story: stars, hearts (since Jesus was indication of God's love), angels, donkeys, etc. The girls were gleeful decorating this year, captivated by the sparkling lights and the shimmery glass angels (which they keep breaking because they won't stop fingering them). I had to remind myself as grabby fingers made chaos of my neatly organized Christmas box that the decorations are not for a magazine cover shoot, but for meaning. So if my organization is lost as the girls grab ornamnents and imagine angels blowing tumpets for the shepherds, so be it. So if that means foregoing the usual placement of the nativity scene on the mantle, for an awkward corner chosen by my young girls who are eagerly looking for the baby, so be it. This year, my greedy, object-loving H is beginning to demonstrate some of the Christmas war herself as she marvels at the baby and animal slaughter his birth stopped but still can't wait for the presents. I am thankful for the struggle.

May your Christmas activites remind you of the wonder.

Battle preparations?

It's coming. The cold/flu season. Many friends have already fought round one. Generally, my immediate family makes it into January without too many illnesses. And then January-April is one long list of illness, if not in my family, in the people around us. Lots of Kleenex, cold remedies and cancelled activities. I am thankful I live in a place where summer mostly wipes the germs away. When you have small kids, summer, with its minimal illness, is a lifeline. I'm watching the drug store sales, preparing for future battles. Maybe this year I can avoid any late night trips for the cough medication that isn't on sale. The superstitious side of me, whose existence I deny, wonders if actually writing this post is like inviting the germs to come invade.

Numbers

I shouldn't post on Mondays. I am too busy. I managed to get all my readings this week and an extra one too. Since my diagnosis, I tend to follow about a six-month pattern: add a medicine, numbers are close to target range, but never fully there. Then one day, or maybe one week, they shoot up again. And the medicine needs to be changed. I think I may have hit that point as my fasting has been hovering in the 120s for months now and suddenly went up. The fasting is the one reading that the food I consume should have no impact on. After all, if I haven't eaten, my blood sugar shouldn't be high, or so it seems. I will get my twice-a-year lab work done in about two weeks; Then I will probably have a doctor's appointment. And when I record my food below, know that I am always drinking water.
Fasting 142, 151 ( took two since the first was higher than expected)
After breakfast 85 (used to be breakfast was when my body could tolerate only a small amount of carbs, but looks like I need to up my carb intake at breakfast. That won't be hard. This breakfast was a bowl of Special K protein plus cereal. )
After lunch 123 (two turkey dogs, half an apple, carrots, and a wasa cracker with cream cheese)
After dinner 186 (chicken breast, 1/2 cup of rice, 1/2 pear, broccoli--I was disappointed in the high number here. I thought the menu was good...I need to stick to about 45 g of carbs per meal I guess.)

Customer Service

I am sitting on my couch in a giant patch of sunrise. It feels divine. =)

I like going to the little Ace Hardware a few blocks away. It is a small store, crammed with more than a hardware store is expected to carry. You walk in, usually a man greets you, you tell him what you want. He knows exactly where it is, how it works, the differences between the brands they carry, and if you might need anything else to make it work. He then asks you if you need anything else. If it heavy, and you are small like me, he'll carry it to the counter and then to my car. I feel like royalty, well-serviced and surrounded by experts.

I feel fortunate in most stores if a salesperson can be found. The Target here though has somehow upped my customer service expectations--at least when I go in the middle of a weekday. Most of the time, I see women in red all around. Many times, they ask me if I am finding everything. Nice.

Monday, I bought Hadley a new leotard at Target. More accurately, I bought it with her money. She was starting gymnastics Tuesday and the deal was, if I pay for the lesson, she had to buy the leotard. I found a cute leotard in her size for $17.99. She had $30 in allowance and early Christmas money. It was black, with pink velour cap sleeves and two hearts on the chest made out of jewels. Definitely worthy of Fancy Nancy and Hadley's Oh la las.

Monday night I couldn't find the leotard. So I returned to Target Tuesday hoping the forgotten bag would be at the costumer service counter. They didn't have it. And strangely I had the receipt (usually I keep them in the bag).
"Oh I must have put it on top of my car and drove away. It's not your fault." I told the worker who looked worried the bag had been misplaced. She hurried away to consult a higher up. Upon her return she said, "Go ahead and get another one and bring it up here."
I wonder if my jaw dropped open. My best guess is I put the first leotard on top of my car while buckling Kassy and then never grabbed it again. Target had no obligation to replace that leotard. What a great surprise.

Mr. Golden Sun

I am trying to complain less, to thank and praise God more. I am not succeeding. Hidden complaints invade my speech each hour I am realizing. And yet, when I consider my life and all that I have been given, praises should reign in my speech. All the same, if you live here and have seen our weather you will understand this silly song that I keep lifting up as a prayer (another veiled complaint right there). Maybe you will join me.
Mr. Sun, sun Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me. Lord, remove the clouds and send the sun.

Wisconsin Dells

Thanksgiving 2008. We left last Tuesday night and drove to Rockford to see my parents. We had a lovely meal Wednesday afternoon with enough food to feed 15 (there were 6 of us). I liked the pheasant the best. The girls had a blast running around the house. I relished hearing Kassy patter upstairs Wednesday morning at 6:15am to find Grandma and Grandpa's room so she could start jumping on the bed. I also got pleasure from teaching my girls to swat at Grandpa's newspaper while he was trying to read it.

We left Thursday about 11 to drive to Wisconisn Dells. We managed to surprise Grandpa Chris for his 60th birthday and the girls were bouncing with excitement when they saw their cousin, Eva. All 11 of us stayed in a lovely cabin at Wilderness Resort, with a full kitchen, two bathrooms, a grill, and a washer/dryer. The resort had three indoor water parks and a four-story play place for dry kids. All of these places proved to be a ton of fun. We were so proud of Kassy for overcoming her fears and going down the big tube slides with us. It was a true victory for our fearful little girl. I think Great Grandma even enjoyed watching the chaos. Pam (my mother-in-law) and Tricia (my sister-in-law) did a great job of bringing food, snacks and even Thanksgiving dinner. What a fun trip. The drive home, with the snow, proved to be exhausting. We love Wisconsin Dells though it was odd to see hotels, condos and fancy houses surrounding a giant, grassy, ditch which used to be Lake Delton. The lake drained late last spring during the floods when a strategic dam broke. Supposedly they will start filling the lake this spring, I wonder how long that will take? Here are a few of my favorite pics from the trip, with captions underneath.

Eva on a slide. My camera's delay is a bit too long to get a great picture on the slide, especially since I was a bit nervous having it near all those splashing people.

Hadley is all smiles as she comes down.

Kassy is nervous about all the turns and about not being in control. By the end of our stay, she was all smiles, though still cautious.

Grandma Pam giving a little lap time to all the grandkids.

Kassy only liked the tube in the wave pool if she could control it at the zero entry point. Take the tube into deeper water and she would have nothing to do with it.

Aunt Tricia and Uncle Kyle brought early Christmas gifts--the Pegasus from Barbie and the Diamond Castle. As Hadley likes to say, "OOH la la."

Tom teaching his mother knee strengthening exercises.

My mom and dad with the girls.

For a laugh

I will have the Thanksgiving post up tomorrow, until then....Few of my blog readers know that I am a parrot-nut. Looseyfur (a friend from high school) may be the only regular reader not in my immediate family who can attest to my adoration. Around a sweet parrot, I act like those crazy people who swoon over dogs or cats. I would own multiple parrots if I could justify the expenses. As it is, I just enjoy them at the pet store. Knowing my affection of cockatoos in particular, my dad sent me this video. It made me laugh out loud. Is this funny to other people, or just to bird lovers? And when I finished laughing, I started checking out this Bird Rescue League that writes the blog. It's in Indiana--not too far away. Maybe there is a way.....

Numbers

Amanda's already been on my case about these numbers even though it is still earlish on a Monday. So I didn't get all my readings again. But I was on vacation and zipping down water slides. It's so hard to keep track of time in those situations. Here's what I did get, even the really bad one that I want to hide from you. I added some notes, mostly for myself, of what I was eating. And I called Amanda's fabulous internal medicine doctor for an appointment. I am on the waiting list until February. Until that time I will keep my regular lab tests and appointment with my current mediocre doctor. My goal for next week is to post all four readings and to make an appointment with an eye doctor. (Diabetics should do this every year, it's been quite a bit longer for me.) It does feel good to be moving in the right direction finally. Thanks for helping me; I need the support.
(Reminder: target is 80-120mg/dL for fasting and under 160 mg/dL two hours after a meal)
So for the week beginning 11/ 24
Fasting 124
After breakfast--120 (Special K protein plus and a little Special K with fruit, cow's milk, water)
After lunch, never managed to take (two hours after lunch is tough for me. I get so busy and forget--I'll get them all this week)
After dinner 223 (oops..salad, three smaller pieces of pizza and half a rice crispy bar)

When I get more time I will post pictures and details of our Thanksgiving trip.

Give Thanks

Give thanks in all circumstances. That's who I want to be. I am ashamed of how much I complain.
Give thanks. Give thanks. Give thanks. I can't find the words to express the fullness of my heart this week. I love this holiday. It's the best. It's honest, simple and unable to be penetrated by marketing. Ok, maybe the turkey farmers have successfully exploited this holiday to their advantage, and maybe the cranberry farmers too, but compared to the other holidays, this one feels pure. It's about gathering with family and friends, eating, and giving thanks. My families are not as expressive as I am. I would love to sit around the table and list things that we are thankful for. They, for the most part, feel awkward with such outward expressions of thanks. That's ok. I am thankful for them--so thankful. My life is so full of blessings. And yet, I fail almost daily to worship God in the way he deserves. Thank you Lord. My cup overflows. And when my cup feels empty, draw me out of myself and help me to give thanks. There is so much. So much.

Almost...blood sugar check

I almost checked my blood sugar four times this week. I procrastinated and procrastinated until this weekend, knowing that I had to post. For your info, most people maintain a blood sugar level between 90-110mg/dL (milligrams per deciliter), except for the first hour or so after a meal. Here are the current guidelines for a diabetic according to Mayo, come to think of it, my doctor here has never communicated her target blood sugar levels for me. Apparently, quite a few people check their levels right before bed too...the doctor has never said anything about this either. I probably need a new doctor.
For a diabetic
Fasting/before breakfast between 80 and 120 mg/dL
Two hours after a meal under 160 mg/dL
The standard targets vary from doctor to doctor and from organization to organization.

I decided to nix posting on the side bar. I never checked after lunch this week. Here you go.
For week beginning 11/17
Fasting 126
After breakfast 58
After dinner 145
About 6 months ago they put me on a new medicine that can cause sugar lows, which I have never had. The 58 is quite low and would account for why I often feel nauseous, exhausted and like I might faint about mid-morning. So armed with a bit more knowledge I can experiment this week with consuming more carbs at breakfast or snacking in the morning or both.

Election Day Story

While doing volunteer work in H's classroom the other day, some of the mothers were sharing how their children reacted to the election. One lady taught her son to love Obama by telling him how necessary unions are, that Obama loves unions, and that Obama was the only candidate who wanted to help Michigan. It turned out that at this lady's house, the boy associated Michigan with football, not a geographic location. On election morning, his mother was leaving early to go vote. The still groggy little boy looked at his mother in amazement as she put on her coat, and said, "How come you get to go to the football game? Can't I come?"

What a day

I am sitting on my couch this morning in the Sun, taking deep breaths. Yesterday was a long, long day. My girls couldn't find the groove. Bickering, grabbing, being silly when it was an inappropriate time to be silly were the unfortunate norm. I think I corrected the girls or disciplined them at least 40 times yesterday; it exhausted me. We did get a free pass to the Children's museum and had fun there, but on the way home, the sun was glaring, making it hard to see, the kids were fighting, and I was distracted. I went right through a red light at full speed and almost caused a colossal accident. I barely had time to breath thank God before the cop sped after me. I was disappointed to get a ticket, but mostly grateful that no was hurt or worse, dead. And the cop was friendly and my license, registration and proof of insurance were all in the proper place. Yea for little things.

While preparing dinner, my girls were dressing up as Indians and H got something in her eye. We couldn't see anything but we flushed it with water several times. No good, she was scared and crying and couldn't open her eye for more than a second. She actually had this happen once before, so I knew that with eye troubles, you need to find an eye doctor, not an emergency room. ERs are not equipped to exam eyes. The doctors at Walmart and Pearl both have extended hours, but they were gone. So I called the first eye doctor in the phone book with an address close to my home. Their machine had an emergency number which I called expecting an answering service but no, the doctor picked up right away and agreed to meet us at his office in twenty minutes. H thought he was super nice, he took good are of us, and provided relief for her and me. Something did get in her eye and scratch her cornea, but it is probably already healed. Since I hadn't found an eye doctor yet, I guess I know where I will go. Yea for doctors who give me some confidence in the medical system.

And yea that even though T has been out of town at a math conference for the last four days, my mom was here to provide help, adult conversation and some hugs.

Heard around here

For some reason, K gets all the quotes this time--do kids decrease the number of funny things they say as they get older?

Background: We were eating tomato soup for lunch.
Me: K, why are you wiping your mouth on your shirt when you have a napkin?
K: Look mom, it [her red sweater] matches the soup so it won't show!

Background: We were getting out of the car and I glanced in the flower bed.
Me: K, how come there is basket here full of mommy's flowers?
K: They were ripe. We had to pick them.

Background: I walk into the dining room eating a Boomi Bar (walnuts, dates, honey) K: OOHHH, I like those. Can I eat it? Me: Sure. K:(grabbing for my food) What is it?

Background: Tom is telling the girls a story. It is the climatic ending where the princess had rescued her friends from the enemy and is by declaring the great works of God--He created the mountains, the oceans, the animals, etc. ....
K: But God didn't make the buildings, man made those.

Facing the Meter

Accountability is a good thing. That's what I would tell anyone who asks. Finding accountability can be tricky. Most people aren't willing to tell another they aren't following through, aren't living up to a standard, or are just plain doing the wrong thing. I like to think I am the kind of friend who can hold other accountable. But sometimes when I am given that responsibility, I do great at first, then I piddle out until I am so embarrassed about my lack of follow-up that I can hardly talk to the person. If you gasped at my essentially selfish behavior, this post only gets worse, at least for me, the confessor.

Now I am in need of accountability. And I need someone or lots of someones who won't annoy me but who won't piddle out. It occurred to me that maybe I could use my blog. Unfortunately, I think people are more willing to correct, exhort, or encourage others in their faults if they just have to send an email or a quick comment on a blog. It's the face to face conversation that is dying in our culture. But, maybe I can use our culture as it is, to aid me in a struggle.

I am part of the recently named national epidemic. I am diabetic. A bad diabetic who regularly cheats on her diet and who doesn't exercise or check her blood sugar levels very often. I am a type 2 diabetic. A strange and mysterious type 2 who doesn't fit any of the characteristics of type 2 except the key one--my body doesn't process insulin correctly. I am 5' 6'' and quite small, so excess weight is not an issue. Until last year there was no history of diabetes in my family, though my 80+ year-old grandma developed it in the last months of her life. I had gestational diabetes with both girls. Diet and exercise did not control my blood sugars so I had to give my self shots of insulin daily, and had to give myself twice as much insulin with pregnancy number 2. After each pregnancy my diabetes disappeared slowly (it was supposed to disappear instantly). About a year after Kassy's birth, I noticed my blood sugars were creeping ever higher.

By that time I had moved to Montana, away from all the doctors who knew my medical history. I went to the community clinic and asked for an A1c test which is an average blood sugar reading from the last three months. The doctor thought I was crazy since there was no way he would ever think to test me for diabetes. After some explanations and several blood tests--it was confirmed that I was indeed diabetic--still producing insulin so I couldn't be a type 1. I did the usual mourning, for my myself, for the potential issues of the future, for the food I couldn't eat, for the way it felt to no longer enjoy potlucks (because the desert table was the best part). I did the usual anger thing, alternating between ignoring my diabetes and trying super strict diets with food like unsweetened ketchup (blah!) and sprouted grain breads. It didn't seem to matter what I did, my numbers wouldn't move to into the recommended ranges. Eventually I went on medication and my numbers are down, but not where they ideally should be. Because my numbers are not super high, and because I am without weight issues, I have trouble finding a doctor who does much more than adjust medications. I wish someone would help me discover what it is about pregnancy that sent my body into such a tail-spin.

Now, the best thing to do as a diabetic is control your eating and check your blood sugars. Knowledge is power, and if I knew how certain foods affected my blood sugar, I could have more control.

Maybe you need a super quick diabetic primer here. Insulin is made in the pancreas. When you eat food, your body converts any carbohydrates into glucose which goes into the bloodstream. Various cells use insulin from the pancreas to grab the glucose and convert it into energy for all kinds of functions. My cells don't grab the glucose so there is too much sugar in my blood, which means that for some reason, the cells are not receiving the insulin properly. And for lots of reasons, having too much sugar in your blood can, over time, lead to numerous complications involving eyes, kidneys, pancreas, feet, etc.

To check my blood sugar, I need to use a glucometer. I poke my finger, squeeze a little blood until a test strip in the meter and up pops a number. I hate my glucometer. One of my faults is an aversion to failure. For some reason, when a number pops up on that little screen that is too high, I feel I have failed. And when I have been eating well, or worse, if I have just exercised, and the number is still too high, I feel like I failed and that I have no path to success. so I avoid my glucometer. If you have had or were a child who struggled with a subject in school, you are familiar with this cycle of try, fail, give up, avoid. It's vicious. Mentally, I know all the problems with my lack of action, but my emotions are not cooperating.

Here's my idea. I do well with my glucometer if I am going to meet a dietician--someone who will be looking at my numbers. But I can't afford a weekly or even monthly visit to a professional. So, you, my dear readers, will be my appointment. Each Monday I will post on the side of my blog 4 glucometer readings from the previous week. Some day soon I will post an explanation of the numbers, so you know what is good, what is bad. If I fail to post, check on me. I may have thrown my glucometer against the wall.

So that's that. I know--why not ask T to keep me accountable? Two reasons--he has trouble remembering and two I tend to get angry at him if he pushes me to face my fears. This faceless interaction might be better. Let the experiment in accountability begin. And if this sounds silly, I wish you could see the tears in my eyes and feel the rate of my pulse as I imagine facing that dumb little machine. The thing about a blog like this, it's public. There's no turning back once I hit the publish button. The glucometer fits in my pocket, but I feel like I am facing a giant.

With this Ring

A friend sent me a link to this article. I started reading it and thought, oh my gosh, why did he send this sappy love story? As usual, I was passing judgement far too soon. Oh my dear friends, this woman's sensitivty to the Lord and the revolution she experienced in her heart is something I pray for all of us in this crazy material cutlure. And for many women, that wedding ring represents true sacrifice. Could you, would you do what this woman did?
http://www.story.house2house.com/2008/11/04/with-this-ring/

Let the Games Begin

Two posts today--it's been awhile.
About two months ago T glanced out the window and saw that our neighbors were throwing out a foosball table. Knowing it wouldn't last long, he ran out to check the condition, decided he wanted it, and started yelling for me to stand guard while he solicited another neighbor to help him carry it inside our house. While on guard duty, several jealous boys gathered around me begging me to to let them have it. The table has been sitting, rather conspicuously in front of the living room window for weeks. Last weekend, since Cody no longer occupied the basement and T finally had some free time, he began repairing and reconditioning the table. After hours of love and quite a bit of T's finesse (rust removal, man replacement, braces for the legs, etc ), it is up and ready, with enviable spin and impressive sturdiness. Turns out this table was top of its line in its day. As foosball tables go, it is rather attractive. So the last two nights have been full of family game time. We feel blessed to have such a great activity for the kids (and our friends!) in our house. Thanks God!

Capturing H

Capturing H has been harder for me. She is older, and more complex, or so I feel. It's taken me a while. But here's what I've written so far.

H you are 6 1/2. Always moving. Talkative. Emotional. And lovely. You have thin strawberry blond hair that you allowed me to get cut to chin length. You love dresses, skirts, sequins, shiny fabrics, faux fur, embroidered flowers and butterflies on jeans, and sparkly shoes. You will wear other colors happily, especially green and blue, but you still usually pick out pink. You think more about your clothing than I thought any six-year-old daughter of mine could. Picking out an outfit at the store this past weekend took you well over 30 minutes as you struggled with which shirt to buy. You understand modesty and make certain your outfits are modest.

You love your friends, screeching and squealing, upon their arrival. You hug and kiss them when they arrive and when they leave. Sometimes they tell you to stop with the physical signs of affection, usually you go one notch past funny. You especially love your friend Lily, often play with Anna from down the street and a third grader from the other side of the block named Noelle. With friends you usually play some kind of pretend game: kitties, princesses, house.

You love your things. All things are reusable in your mind, even the clear plastic seals around a tub of cottage cheese. You are certain you can use it for something. It doesn't matter if you haven't played with a toy in months, you can't possibly part from it. I think you associate things with memories--Lily gave you a pair or sparkly shoes that look terrible because all the sparkles on the toe have worn off but you still wear them and love them because Lily gave them to you. Your treasure box is filled to overflowing since you can't get rid of things and your bed is hard to move in because you store/hide so many things in it. You get angry with your sister when she gives things away to people and generally, sharing things, especially new things, is very difficult for you unless you can work out an advantageous trade for yourself.

You love to be tickled. You love to have band-aids on any little paper cut. You love to play games: cards or board games, tag or fuse ball. You love to eat sugary things. You are a good eater in general, almost always clearing your plate of everything I put on it. You eat vegetables and fruits happily, though bread and crackers would be your favorite choice, if sweets are off limits.

You wake up to an alarm now, dress yourself, put your pjs away, put your shoes on, brush your teeth, clean out the sink, etc. Last weekend you chopped the potatoes and celery for dinner and worked hard raking and bagging leaves in the backyard. There is still a lot to learn but I am pleased with how hard you work and how, usually, you don't complain much.

You are such a happy little girl: always smiling, laughing, and teasing. You are a little short on patience and often speak in an angry tone of impatience to your sister (I know where you learned this tone from). When someone does something for you or gets you a gift, you express your gratitude so many times it exhausts the gift giver.

You love to do things and to try things and take part in any sort of lessons. You just love people and activity. Reading has come more slowly to you than to your classmates, but you often sit in your bed at night and read to yourself. You have made a lot of progress in reading this year. Your writing, coloring, drawing, and paintings are nice but unless you are being unusually careful, are generally messy and scribbled. You do like to create things: books, 3-D art, real-life things made out of paper( a table, a cat, a paper necklace). You frequently raid the recycling bin for your creations. Right now you love to sing, and sing and sing. You make up long, loud songs and perform them, fishing for compliments on your voice (which to my untrained ear is ....rather average..sorry but average is better than mine!). You are high energy only stopping for a movie or an occasional hurt feeling.

Like most big sisters, you are carefully attuned to fairness. You notice if I compliment K but not you. You demand equal treatment and equal gifts. You can be quick to anger and sometimes forget to remain respectful to your parents. You've mastered the evil eye. We are working on this. You love God as much as you can though many times you say you don't know how to trust him, how to believe in him. I love your honesty--these aren't easy things. Mostly though, you are happy and playful. I love you H. I am so glad I get to be your mom.

Capturing K

K was running down the sidewalk, laughing, because she was running away from me. She had on Crocs and her pink fleece PJs with feet were stuck in her butt crack. It was probably the last warm fall morning as we returned from waiting at the bus stop with H. And K was memorable in her favorite cozy outfit with her little smile and giant brown eyes and I wanted to grab the moment with its smells, sounds, looks, and temp; stick it in my pocket, and store it safely for future viewing. That was Friday. (I'll post Healthy Habits later this week.)

Since the girls were babies I have been writing about them. For me, for them. And today for you too. It is time again to try to capture the girls and the stage they are at. They are still young enough that I am comfortable sharing this intimate look at who they are, but someday these writings will be tucked away for more private reading. I'll start with K. H will be tomorrow.

K you are 4 1/2. Your long hair is thin and fine and still auburn in color (the source of many a compliment). About a month ago you decided you wanted to grow out your bangs, so currently we always have barrettes in your hair--a condition I placed on your decision so I can see your pretty eyes. You still love your pillowcase and take it everywhere except to preschool--though you carefully place it in your car seat for the moment I pick you up. It is getting thin--almost see-through. You sit in the car or in the brown leather chair with the pillowcase to your nose--smelling. According to you, different places on pillowcase have different smells and some are better than others!

You are shy and quiet in all new situations and sometimes in old ones, unless your sister is with you. You are trying to be brave enough to answer people's questions when they ask a simple question. You like routine and the familiar. You naturally walk around public places with one hand on some part of me at all times--my pocket, my purse, my hand--an ideal shopping companion. H remains your favorite friend, though you like to play with our neighbor Britta, and with a few girls in your preschool class (Morgan, Kyra). And yet, you are more likely than your sister to play with matches when I am not looking, to get into my make-up, or to pick up a piece of broken glass just to see if it really will cut you. And then, if you think I am not looking, you will lie about it.

You can sit still and listen for an incredibly long time. You have good fine motor skills and can draw a rabbit with a a face and whiskers. You are still on your special diet and do a remarkable job of accepting that your treats are always different and that sometimes you can't have the snack that people bring. Thankfully, you are still my snuggle bug.

At preschool you have tried to help a little girl who is always crying and nervous. You follow her around, showing her toys and helping her on the computer when she gets stuck (sometimes too much). You are sweet and giving--regularly giving your sister new things you have been given or giving away your toys to friends who come to visit. You can write your name now, in all caps. You make your S in two strokes, first the top, then the bottom curve.

This fall you played soccer for the first time. You were doing well, starting to score goals each game, but then you got hit in the face with the ball. We spend the rest of the season trying to keep you from bursting into tears every time you played defense. Ballet lessons are your real love. You run into that studio and never look back. This isn't true of anything else.

You are still a whiner. Oh how you can whine. It drives me crazy. At least three times a day, you come to me crying because you got hurt somehow. You are lazy too, generally using distraction and manipulation to get out of chores like cleaning up. Before a punishment you always scream, "Mom I have to tell you something." Generally this is followed by a long pause as you try to think of something to tell me. I try to be consistent in disciplining, but it can be tough. You tend to use ignorance or lying to cover up your mistakes and are physically aggressive when Hadley pushes too many buttons.

You love books, movies, playing on the computer, dressing up, and Barbies (we don't have many--mostly you play with them at Grandma's). You still generally wear skirts and dresses, though today at the store you picked out purple corduroys with a glitter belt and a fuzzy purple sweater. Your favorite snack is toast (gluten and dairy free of course) with sun butter or rice chips or cashews. You will eat most vegetables, always avoiding onions and celery. Fruit you tolerate grudgingly. You love riding the trail-a-bike with dad or with me (we even ride to preschool sometimes). You like to help in the garden or with laundry, especially with clippers or a squirt bottle.

I love being your mom K. I love you.

This week takes a different kind of energy. K doesn't have preschool all week. H was off all day Tuesday and has half-days Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Such a schedule means I volunteered to help several friends with child care this week. I love giving the girls a chance to play with friends in a place I can supervise. While I will invite kids over next time we have a weird half-day schedule, having extra kids in your house day after day is tiring. Though all the visiting children have been girls who are kind and obedient, I feel drained. Planning crafts, lunches for five, occasionally refereeing. Conferences are today and tomorrow. I met my new tutee for the literacy council this week. I had gotten used to having quiet time four afternoons a week to recharge. Most people do not get such a luxury-- I am thankful. New events and people do not energize me. I am creature of habit who feels most content and relaxed in the familiar. Change is healthy, stretching my tendency to marinate in the same old, exposing my brain new situations for contemplation.

To add to my energy drain, is the weather. This delightful problem means I have been outside in the yard whenever possible--planting bulbs (over 100 of them thanks to Aldi and the Mejier 75% bulb sale), cleaning up the garden, repotting plants, raking leaves. The garden is still producing---romaine, carrots and broccoli. Everything else has been cleaned out. Yesterday I cut bunches of rosemary and parsley to hang in my kitchen and dry. The smell hovering over the kitchen sink makes dishes a pleasure to wash. H took a snack of fresh garden carrots to school yesterday and bragged to all her friends about them. Such connections to the earth, to an ancient, simpler way of life delight me. I can't explain why growing my own food is so intoxicating. To survive the winter months, I will imagine the debris of the garden, freshly turned under the surface, nourishing the soil (not dirt!) for spring and oh joy...I will begin planning for next year. Only four or five months until I can start planting seeds indoors.

Funny

Funny how when the table turns, you can suddenly relate to things you couldn't before. When Bush beat Gore just barely in 2000, I remember the dejected faces of most of my teaching colleagues. They were very uncomfortable, anxious about the future. The table has been turned on me. I expected Obama to win and there are many things about this policies that I like. I wasn't informed enough about the Congressional races to realize what a huge majority the democrats could and did gain in Congress. Now I feel anxious, uncomfortable, like some of my values are threatened. When I went to bed last night the Michigan proposal on stem cell research was locked at 50/50. I support much of the stem cell research that happens. It stands to bring hope to my mother who has had Parkinson's for almost 15 years and isn't even 60 yet. But the proposal here in Michigan amended our constitution and put zero restrictions on the research and it passed. I feel anxious, like my peers each time Bush was elected. I feel angry that the millage to increase health care services for those without insurance was defeated. This morning my study presented a timely verse,"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."--Psalm 46:10. We've been studying 1 Kings in my Bible study and I've been struck multiple times by the terrible leadership of Israel and how God can use this leadership to accomplish his purposes. Please don't think I am comparing the new Congress and President to the evil leadership of Israel in 1 Kings, that would be unfair, especially before they have even begun. But the lesson pertains to my heart on this day. The election didn't turn out as I hoped, but I will be still and know that He is God.

In case your heart is heavy or even if it is cheering, here's a funny story unrelated to anything important. T was out Saturday night playing a game called Kremlin with some guys. His day had been busy: ultimate Frisbee, helping a friend move for five hours, baking cookies, and interacting with us. It was after midnight when he returned home. He didn't notice, until he walked in the back door and felt wet socks, that he had left, without his shoes! Keep in mind it is November and this is Michigan!

Sweet Fellowship

Some of my activities I do because I like them. Some I do because I think I should do them. If scripture doesn't discourage or forbid an activity, if it doesn't take away from something I need to do, and if it seems beneficial, I generally do it --like my Bible Study or tutoring for the literacy council. If scripture recommends an activity I try to do that to --like praying or serving others. Less often than I would like though, I get involved in something where I have a real sense of God's pleasure. My book club is such a place. It's not the Christian books that we read, though we've read some great ones. It's not the place we meet--a local coffeeshop. It's certainly not that scripture commands us to be in a book club. There are only five of us and no one stands out as a unusually insightful or exceptionally exciting (sorry ladies). Our ages span almost 30 years and we certainly don't all agree on different issues within the Christian faith. But we all love Jesus. We all love our families and desire for our kids (ranging from 6 months to 20-something) to learn about Jesus and grow in their faith. I love gleaning from the words and stories of the women who lived through my current life stage. Mostly though I go because, regardless of what we read ( and I go even if I haven't read the book), I leave encouraged, challenged, and reenergized to follow the Lord. Best of all I have a sense that God has brought us together for such a time as this. And it feels sweet. May you all be blessed with such fellowship.

Healthy Habits: Drinking Tea, part 1

My last months of living in Des Moines included a morning off as mommy once a week. I haunted the back corner of a tea house near the capitol building for some peace, enjoyment, time to read and pray. The whole atmosphere was serene and relaxing and I love being someplace where the workers were informative experts--it's a treat in this day of untrained customer service workers. Those men knew tea. There wasn't a coffee pot in sight and no tea bags either. The owners traveled the Eastern world purchasing high quality tea. They served tea in the traditional way of the country from which they purchased the tea. And somehow they landed in Des Moines, opening a tea house they call Gong Fu Tea. From those two guys, I learned to love good tea. I learned how to serve it too for best flavor and someday I hope one of my visits to Des Moines corresponds with one of their tea tasting evening.

Now I am a tea snob. I dislike most bag teas and prefer the subtle nuances of green and white teas. But most people, including the workers at coffeehouses know little to nothing about tea. They think: add hot water, wait, drink.

But first thing first: a little information. Most research suggests that green and white tea are nutritionally superior to the traditional black teas served in the West (Constant Comment, Earl Grey, English Breakfast, etc. ). Black tea is higher in caffeine and lower in antioxidants. In flavor, properly prepared green and white teas are lighter, more subtle than the stronger black teas. Green and white tea do not go through any fermentation. White tea is oxidized only slightly during a short drying time. Green tea is oxidized slightly more and roasted in a pan. Research and common sense indicate that the less processed white tea has the highest concentration of antioxidants*. Both white tea and green tea have been linked (not conclusively)with lowering cholesterol, lowering blood pressure, strengthening bones, and killing viruses and bacteria, including those that cause tooth decay.

But you say, the green tea I have tried was bitter and unpleasant. Here's probably why. Most green and white tea have a precise method of preparation that manufacturers fail to share and that servers never know. First, heat your water to boiling and then let it cool to around 185-195. Pour it over the tea leaves or bag. Second, don't leave that bag in for a long soak, remove the tea leaves in about three minutes (and most of the time you can get a second and third use out of them), remove white tea leaves after two minutes. Hotter water will increase caffeine content and bitterness.

Now, make a cup of your favorite tea. Sit down and relax. I know it will make you feel better.

* For those who love to get technical: Antioxidant is a word that is thrown around the health community as if we all remember chemistry well. I don't remember my chemistry so I briefly researched this morning. First, remember that a molecule is most stable if all the electrons have a partner. An antioxidant is a molecule that can prevent the oxidation of other cells. Oxidation is a chemical reaction that can cause electron transfer, sometimes resulting in free radicals. Free radicals are molecules with an unpaired electron and as such can cause chain reactions within our cells that result in damage to other cells. Antioxidants stabilize free radicals and sometimes repair damaged cells. Oxidation is naturally occurring process in our body so we need a healthy amount of antioxidants to maintain health. It seems, though not conclusively, that as we age our ability to stabilize oxidation decreases, resulting in more health problems. Research indicates that antioxidants may be the key to postponing or stopping health problems such as heart disease, diabetes, Alzheimer's, macular degeneration, and even cancer. The best source of antioxidants is to eat a colorful array of fruits and vegetables daily.

Tidbits

So this post is mostly for the grandparents. I know they have been waiting. H was a Siamese cat for Halloween, K a bunny. The picture of Kassy and the pumpkin is significant because this is the first year K would touch the slimey insides of a pumpkin. The top pumpkin on the steps is the one H did all alone, opened, cleaned, drew and carved thanks to those handy pumpkin carving kit. Doing the whole thing made her feel very old. The top picture of T and me at the MOPS Halloween party last weekend. I didn't get any full body poses so you can't see the knee length black leather blacks with heels--only the second time I have ever worn heels in my entire life! And the first was not my wedding.

I love trick or treating in this neighborhood. It is a big party. We had over 400 trick or treaters. The weather was so beautiful that many of us sat in our front yards on lawn chairs to pass out the candy. There isn't enough of a break between groups of trick or treaters to make going inside worth the effort. We ran out of candy at 7:30. Then the girls went next door and helped the neighbor finish passing out her candy, except they will only give candy to the cute costumes; they hide from the scary ones. Some neighbors get annoyed at the strangers who come to our neighborhood for this holiday. There are many teenage parents with young kids who come with a bag for their 1-year-old and a bag for themselves. There are teens who come with just a pillowcase and no costume. There are kids who are obviously lying who have two bags, one for themselves and one for their sick brother who is in the car. There are kids who go around the block multiple times and think we don't notice. And of course there are a ton of kids in great costumes. Everyone is friendly and it is one of the only events I've attended in this city were the racial tensions don't permeate the atmosphere. Getting free candy is such an innocent thing to do--I don't mind how old you are, but if you are little and cute, you might get two pieces of candy.

Princess Analysis

Since taking their first steps, my girls have amused family, friends, and neighbors with excessive displays of all that is fancy: shiny shoes, sequins, twirly dresses, jewelry, and layers of tulle. I suspect my retired neighbors had many head shakes when we first moved in as they looked out their windows and saw my girls dancing, skipping, and twirling outside in tutus, princess dresses, and cat costumes. ( Can you picture it Sarah?)

H started having strong opinions about her clothing at 2 ½ when my mom bought her a long blue dress with cherries on it. She suddenly would not let me pick out her clothing and preferred to only wear the cherry dress. For a while I made her wear pants every other day so we would not waste all the nice clothes family had purchased for her. For whatever reason, God made H to love beautiful, fancy clothing. Her tendencies certainly don’t come from the way I dress. K, being the little sister, has followed in H’s footsteps. The girls feel beautiful if their clothing is beautiful.

Such an early attraction to clothing and fancy things alarmed me. And Disney wasn’t helping. They put fancily-clad princesses on everything from toothbrushes and fruit snacks to lunch boxes and clothing. Neither is the general population who often greeted my young girls with phrases like, "You must be a princess." And so began my first real clash with culture. My girls pined to watch princess movies. They begged to wear their princess dress-up clothes. None of this seems so bad, but the subtle messages of the princess movies and the way my girls equated looking beautiful to goodness and virtue alarmed me. I didn’t think it wise to ban princesses entirely. So I tried education and redirection.

I allowed my girls to watch some of the Disney princess movies, if they were not too scary. I read to them short book versions of the famous tales so they would be familiar with the stories. I shared my opinions too.

“Mommy doesn’t like Sleeping Beauty.” I would tell them.

Of course they want to know why I wouldn’t love this beautiful princess dressed in pink. Sleeping Beauty and Snow White are not admirable princesses in my opinion. They sing well, fall under evil spells and get rescued by princes to live happily ever after. Cinderella is better as she is kind to the people who treat her like dirt. But I bristle at the end where marrying the prince equals happy ever after. Belle is my favorite Disney princess. Belle has admirable qualities: intelligence(she loves books), sacrificial love for her father (she voluntarily trades places with him in the Beast's prison). She is not fooled by the antics of the handsome man and is able to see goodness in the literal face of the ugly. Ariel is the worst as she spends the entire movie disobeying her father. The movie makes her rebellious decisions seem like the right thing by implying Eric will bring forever happiness. I hope my opinions have helped counter the messages of the movie. My girls know that being pretty princesses does not equal automatic admiration.

I’ve also tried to redirect the girls’ interests somewhat. I have allowed dress up clothing so I don’t totally squash who they are. But I tend to encourage animal play, art work and imagination through the toys I purchase or request for holidays. T does his part by complementing their natural beauty when they are in jeans or PJs (and not withholding complements on special occasions) and by telling made-up stories about a princess who does things like give away her fancy clothes to peasants who are shivering and wears her PJs everywhere instead.

Some people think I over analyze this issue. My girls are so young. Relax they say. I can’t. I may never know if my efforts to educate really made any difference. H has a natural bend toward the romantic idealism of the princess world that I feel a need to combat. I want her to draw her strength and joy from Christ and not expect it from beauty or the companionship of a man. In writing my thoughts, maybe there a mom reading this who hasn’t thought about the “beauty and prince = happily ever after” messages of the princess movie. Maybe they should. And maybe you have a boy or a girl who doesn't care about fancy clothes or princesses, you can breath a sigh of relief on this one.

Oh and if you want another earful, you can ask me my opinions about the Barbie princess movies.I have lots of them=).