My four-year-old has the knack of busting out with the funniest yet quirkiest comments. Today he was talking about wiener dogs. "Like my wiener, right mom?" As he was walking into the other room I heard him talking to himself "Penis dog, like wiener dog hee hee" I didn't know whether to laugh out loud or scold him. So I thought about it for a second and just smiled. Don't call attention to it and it'll most likely just go away.
Last Wednesday night, I was sitting on the floor in the living room as Matt came in from playing at his Grandma's house. He sat down on my lap, threw his arms around me and said "I love spending time with you and Grandma." Just like that. Eloquent and enunciated. And then he giggled. He has this almost evil giggle that melts your heart. He also has this mischevious smile that makes you a tich scared. He can smile his way out of most things.
Over Labor Day, I rented a cabin for our family's first vacation ever. We got to the cabin late Friday evening, too late to see the lake properly. When we woke up the next morning, we opened the curtains, looked out over the lake and Matt was the first to speak. "That's beautiful!" he said. Bear in mind he is just four years old and is using words that most twenty-something men don't use.
He has also been heard using appropriate, delicate and organize, as in "I'm going to organize my peas, mom." This was when he was three. I don't want you to think he is a pocket-protector nerd running through the house spouting dissertations on string theory and quantum physics. The bulk of his words are "hee hee I farted, scuse me," "hee hee I burped, scuse me" and "Can I have some gum?" Occasionally I get a two or three syllable word and I love it. "Be nice to God's creatures!" I glow and my heart is warmed. "I love spending time with you and Grandma." That's the BEST! Wouldn't trade it for anything.
Tonight I got a "Mom, I love you soooo much." (Yes, that is the correct spelling of "so" at least for Matty) I am so blessed.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Grandma Grace
- Grandma and the skunk
- Lilac perfume
- Depression glass
- Fresh bread
- Malt o meal
- 1951 Singer sewing machine
- Billy Graham
- Warp
- Rag rugs
- "Grandma blue"
- Coffee in a stovetop percolator-no basket
- Beet pickles
- Korv
- The brooder house and her chickens
- The orange truck
- Corn pudding
She baked bread from scratch and would let me eat all I wanted. She wondered outloud why I never wanted butter or peanut butter on it. Grandma's bread was too good to defile with peanut butter or even butter.
She drank piping hot coffee made on her stove in an aluminum percolator. She prepared it by filling the pot with water and dumping the grounds right in, no basket. When it had perked she would let it rest so the grounds would settle to the bottom. She would take her coffee in depression glass coffee cups with milk. The family didn't understand why she used her "antique" coffee cups for everyday. She would poo-poo us ("Oh for goodness sakes") and tell how the cups came free in flour sacks.
When I stayed overnight she would make Malt-o-Meal for breakfast and it always had lumps. The lumps were my favorite. I don't know if they were on purpose, but now my kids HAVE to have lumps in their Malt-o-Meal.
She always made and ate beet pickles. She grew the beets in her garden.
Korv is Swedish potato sausage which she made every year, stuffing the casings herself. She would serve it on Christmas Eve along with corn pudding and Stove Top stuffing.
Her radio was always tuned to 'CCO. She loved to watch Billy Graham on the TV. She pronounced his name "Gray-am."
She drove her old orange truck to Cokato, two towns away where she worked in a canning factory. The tail gate of the truck had pins that held it closed.
She would collect ripped jeans from those who would give them to her. Each pair was deconstructed and cut into strips. The strips were sewn together end to end on her 1951 Singer Sewing machine. With the sewn together strips of jeans, she made rag rugs on her rug loom. Sometimes she would let us kids help weave the rags through the warp. Then she would let us bang the big handle if we behaved.
She always dressed in blue. Her hair was silver. Her face was soft and kind.
She hated to be in pictures and if she was, she never smiled.
She smelled lightly of lilac and Jean N'ate.
My grandma died on her birthday in 1989. I miss her very much.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Perfection is my Enemy
For this week's blog, I didn't have to think long to settle on a song that really speaks to me. Free to Be Me by Francesca Battistelli is a wonderful song that I wish my daughter could live.
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender Beautiful, Beautiful
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me"
"Sometimes I believe that I can do anything
Yet other times I think I've got nothing good to bring
But You look at my heart and You tell me
That I've got all You seek"
I want her to know that she already has everything she'll ever need to be herself, even being only 7 years old. She is wonderfully and fearfully made. I want her to understand what the media is doing to our children, our little girls in particular. But she's only 7. I never want for her to desire the unrealistic images that she is bombarded with on a daily basis. Airbrushed, Photoshopped, nipped, tucked, botchilized, binged, purged and starved. This does not promote contentedness. This is not happiness. I abhor the way our children are desensitized by violence and mysogeny. I detest the sexualiziation of our young girls through revealing clothing. I cannot tolerate this sense of entitlement that surrounds our youth today. I think PG-13 is really R. I am passionate about these subjects. More of that a different day. I don't want to work myself into a lather. :)
Now that I am older and comfortable in my skin, I own the fact that my body looks as it does because the choices I have made. I do not intend to tell God he's made a mistake by undergoing plastic surgery. I look the way I do because it's the way I'm supposed to look. I want to place in her head all the things I already know. I completely understand that I won't be able to do that. I will have to settle for being a model for her. Perhaps settle isn't the right word. I hope surrounding myself with other strong, smart (read not fake or shallow) women I will encourage her to be one also. I've said before we all make our own choices. The choices we make dictate the life we lead. (I think that line was in a Danny Devito movie.) I am where I am because of my choices. I wouldn't change the way I got here. I wouldn't change where I am. Enough about that.
Another song that I love is Beautiful, Beautiful also by Francesca Battistelli. I think this girl is phenominal for only being twenty-ish. This song reminds me that God's grace is sufficient for me. "Mercy reaching to save me All that I need." Even though some days are rough, I can get through them. Everyday is another chance to have a fabulous day. It could be worse...I often use that test. If my day is really crap, I try to think of at least 3 ways it could be worse. Then it's not so hard to be thankful for the things I have. Being barfed on and cryed at all day isn't so bad when one considers some people will never get to (or want to) hold a baby. The best music is a baby's coo. Wow, I'm kind of all over the place in my head tonight.
Don’t know how it is You looked at me
And saw the person that I could be
Awakening my heart
Breaking through the dark
Suddenly Your grace
Like sunlight burning at midnight
Making my life something so Beautiful, beautiful
Mercy reaching to save me
All that I need
You are so Beautiful, beautiful
Now there’s a joy inside I can’t contain
But even perfect days can end in rain
And though it’s pouring down
I see You through the clouds
Shining on my face
I have come undone
But I have just begun
Changing by Your grace
Lyrics by Francesca Battistelli, Ian Eskelin, and Andrew Fromm
Free to Be MeAt twenty years of age I'm still looking for a dream
A war's already waged for my destiny
But You've already won the battle
And You've got great plans for me
Though I can’t always see
(Chorus)
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me
When I was just a girl I thought I had it figured out
My life would turn out right, and I'd make it here somehow
But things don't always come that easy
And sometimes I would doubt
(Chorus)
And you’re free to be you
Sometimes I believe that I can do anything
Yet other times I think I've got nothing good to bring
But You look at my heart and You tell me
That I've got all You seek
And it’s easy to believe
Even though
Lyrics by Francesca Battistelli
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender Beautiful, Beautiful
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me"
"Sometimes I believe that I can do anything
Yet other times I think I've got nothing good to bring
But You look at my heart and You tell me
That I've got all You seek"
I want her to know that she already has everything she'll ever need to be herself, even being only 7 years old. She is wonderfully and fearfully made. I want her to understand what the media is doing to our children, our little girls in particular. But she's only 7. I never want for her to desire the unrealistic images that she is bombarded with on a daily basis. Airbrushed, Photoshopped, nipped, tucked, botchilized, binged, purged and starved. This does not promote contentedness. This is not happiness. I abhor the way our children are desensitized by violence and mysogeny. I detest the sexualiziation of our young girls through revealing clothing. I cannot tolerate this sense of entitlement that surrounds our youth today. I think PG-13 is really R. I am passionate about these subjects. More of that a different day. I don't want to work myself into a lather. :)
Now that I am older and comfortable in my skin, I own the fact that my body looks as it does because the choices I have made. I do not intend to tell God he's made a mistake by undergoing plastic surgery. I look the way I do because it's the way I'm supposed to look. I want to place in her head all the things I already know. I completely understand that I won't be able to do that. I will have to settle for being a model for her. Perhaps settle isn't the right word. I hope surrounding myself with other strong, smart (read not fake or shallow) women I will encourage her to be one also. I've said before we all make our own choices. The choices we make dictate the life we lead. (I think that line was in a Danny Devito movie.) I am where I am because of my choices. I wouldn't change the way I got here. I wouldn't change where I am. Enough about that.
Another song that I love is Beautiful, Beautiful also by Francesca Battistelli. I think this girl is phenominal for only being twenty-ish. This song reminds me that God's grace is sufficient for me. "Mercy reaching to save me All that I need." Even though some days are rough, I can get through them. Everyday is another chance to have a fabulous day. It could be worse...I often use that test. If my day is really crap, I try to think of at least 3 ways it could be worse. Then it's not so hard to be thankful for the things I have. Being barfed on and cryed at all day isn't so bad when one considers some people will never get to (or want to) hold a baby. The best music is a baby's coo. Wow, I'm kind of all over the place in my head tonight.
Don’t know how it is You looked at me
And saw the person that I could be
Awakening my heart
Breaking through the dark
Suddenly Your grace
Like sunlight burning at midnight
Making my life something so Beautiful, beautiful
Mercy reaching to save me
All that I need
You are so Beautiful, beautiful
Now there’s a joy inside I can’t contain
But even perfect days can end in rain
And though it’s pouring down
I see You through the clouds
Shining on my face
I have come undone
But I have just begun
Changing by Your grace
Lyrics by Francesca Battistelli, Ian Eskelin, and Andrew Fromm
Free to Be MeAt twenty years of age I'm still looking for a dream
A war's already waged for my destiny
But You've already won the battle
And You've got great plans for me
Though I can’t always see
(Chorus)
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me
When I was just a girl I thought I had it figured out
My life would turn out right, and I'd make it here somehow
But things don't always come that easy
And sometimes I would doubt
(Chorus)
And you’re free to be you
Sometimes I believe that I can do anything
Yet other times I think I've got nothing good to bring
But You look at my heart and You tell me
That I've got all You seek
And it’s easy to believe
Even though
Lyrics by Francesca Battistelli
Friday, September 3, 2010
Greetings from the bottom of the heap.
Wow, I am almost through week two of fall semester and my head has yet to explode. Bear in mind that I did say almost...
One of my other classes has a required research paper that is to be submitted by 5pm today, Friday September 3rd. Naturally I am frightened. My employment in child care has not, as of yet, required that I complete research papers. Having been out of school for 20 plus years means I am woefully inept when it comes to writing research papers. Hence my enrollment in ENGL1117. The kicker is-in ENGL1117, the research paper is at the end of the semester. Now you might understand my fear. MLA format is required and I don't recall Mrs. Krause ever expounding on that subject back in High School AP English. Ok, she may have, but was I listening? Signs point to no. To me MLA is Maple Lake/Annandale. I feel like a deer in the headlights. This is not the end of the world. I need to calm myself and look up samples of the different writing formats, after all, I am going to be doing this quite often.
I have also decided that I dislike, no, loathe reading articles on my computer. Alas, poor forests, I will put a large dent in your numbers. And people say digital is better, my eyes say nay! Paper is the way to go, besides, I enjoy a little highltighter action, too.
Add to the list church duties, child care-yesterday there were nine children in my house, six classes, a garden, chickens and a Labor Day weekend trip "up Nort" with my 3 kids and I am buried. Everyone makes their own choices and these are mine. I can't say I've made the best choices but they're mine and I am ok with them.
One can only hope the work load gets lighter or perhaps I will learn to budget my time more effectively. Or, I could just learn to say NO when I have the chance. Regardless, I choose to be content.
One of my other classes has a required research paper that is to be submitted by 5pm today, Friday September 3rd. Naturally I am frightened. My employment in child care has not, as of yet, required that I complete research papers. Having been out of school for 20 plus years means I am woefully inept when it comes to writing research papers. Hence my enrollment in ENGL1117. The kicker is-in ENGL1117, the research paper is at the end of the semester. Now you might understand my fear. MLA format is required and I don't recall Mrs. Krause ever expounding on that subject back in High School AP English. Ok, she may have, but was I listening? Signs point to no. To me MLA is Maple Lake/Annandale. I feel like a deer in the headlights. This is not the end of the world. I need to calm myself and look up samples of the different writing formats, after all, I am going to be doing this quite often.
I have also decided that I dislike, no, loathe reading articles on my computer. Alas, poor forests, I will put a large dent in your numbers. And people say digital is better, my eyes say nay! Paper is the way to go, besides, I enjoy a little highltighter action, too.
Add to the list church duties, child care-yesterday there were nine children in my house, six classes, a garden, chickens and a Labor Day weekend trip "up Nort" with my 3 kids and I am buried. Everyone makes their own choices and these are mine. I can't say I've made the best choices but they're mine and I am ok with them.
One can only hope the work load gets lighter or perhaps I will learn to budget my time more effectively. Or, I could just learn to say NO when I have the chance. Regardless, I choose to be content.
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