. . . I just can't seem to get the picture downloaded that I chose for today's post. It's well worth a second try, so I think I'll go at it again tomorrow.
To wet your appetite, as we were driving down the road in the Outer Banks, we saw a space ship on the side of the road with aliens looking out the windows.
Don't you want to check it out tomorrow? See you then.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Tunnels, Bridges and Puppies
We just returned from a week-long visit to Don's parents in West Virginia. While there, we twice biked the Rail Trail, a 77-mile stretch of land that used to be a railroad line, but the rails have been removed and it's now a wonderful walking or biking path. Above are a few photos. There are several tunnels along the Trail. One day, Don and the kids biked one direction on it for 7 miles and went through 2 tunnels. Later in the week, they biked another direction and went through 3 tunnels, one of which is pictured, while Grandma, Grandpa, Donovan and I walked a couple of the miles.
The boys finished the ride exhausted but happy, as did Donovan. Grandpa helped load the bikes back on the van while all the bikeriders enjoyed a rest and some drink boxes and water.
Hope you enjoy the pictures. The Rail Trail was beautiful and the week with Grandma and Grandpa wonderful. We left Deanna with them for this coming week and will pick her up at a halfway point next Friday. I'll write a little more about our trip on Monday. Have a good weekend.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Top Bunk Snugglers
Daelyn slept in the top bunk with his brother last night. It all started two nights ago when I washed the sheets and Dane decided he wanted his old jersey cowboy sheets on his bed instead of his cotton car sheets. Daelyn wanted the cowboy sheets, too, and cried for a couple of hours. Dane, in an attempt to pacify his brother, suggested that they sleep together in Dane's bed so they could both sleep on the cowboy sheets.
They came to me and asked permission. I quickly said no, scared that the top bunk was way too high for Daelyn. Then Dane began to reason with me.
"But, Mama, I can put him up against the wall and I'll sleep next to the rail. That way, he can't fall off. He'd have to climb over top of me AND the rail."
This made good sense, so I agreed. Daddy questioned my decision, but he finally agreed, also, deferring to me, even though he had his doubts.
So, last night, for the second night in a row, the boys slept together. I went in late to tuck them in and couldn't find Daelyn, so I pulled off my slippers, climbed the ladder and knelt on the top bunk. Dane had put a pillow against the wall to cushion his little brother and the baby was tucked in between the pillow and his brother who, himself, was pretty close to the wall. They had their arms wrapped around each other in an embrace and I almost cried at how sweet the scene was.
My precious babies. They're so good to each other (when they're not hitting and kicking each other). Yesterday, we had my niece to dinner and the boys were telling her about their first night together on the top bunk.
"Daddy said we could do it!" they excitedly told Meme. Hmph! I could have sworn it was my decision and Daddy still wasn't sure about it. But it's okay with me if he gets credit. As long as the boys keep looking out for each other.
They came to me and asked permission. I quickly said no, scared that the top bunk was way too high for Daelyn. Then Dane began to reason with me.
"But, Mama, I can put him up against the wall and I'll sleep next to the rail. That way, he can't fall off. He'd have to climb over top of me AND the rail."
This made good sense, so I agreed. Daddy questioned my decision, but he finally agreed, also, deferring to me, even though he had his doubts.
So, last night, for the second night in a row, the boys slept together. I went in late to tuck them in and couldn't find Daelyn, so I pulled off my slippers, climbed the ladder and knelt on the top bunk. Dane had put a pillow against the wall to cushion his little brother and the baby was tucked in between the pillow and his brother who, himself, was pretty close to the wall. They had their arms wrapped around each other in an embrace and I almost cried at how sweet the scene was.
My precious babies. They're so good to each other (when they're not hitting and kicking each other). Yesterday, we had my niece to dinner and the boys were telling her about their first night together on the top bunk.
"Daddy said we could do it!" they excitedly told Meme. Hmph! I could have sworn it was my decision and Daddy still wasn't sure about it. But it's okay with me if he gets credit. As long as the boys keep looking out for each other.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
The Tongue with Four Legs
Donovan is a snuggler. In the morning, he puts his front paws up on my bed and I pull him up. He curls up next to me on his back with his paws in the air and licks until he falls back asleep. This morning, we dozed for 45 minutes snuggled together before Daelyn decided he needed to be in that position and pushed his way inbetween me and Donovan.
Last weekend, my brother visited from Alabama. He asked to meet Donovan so, before he left town, they stopped over here. We trotted the pup out to meet the relatives. Chuckie seemed suitably impressed, and gave Donovan his new, extremely appropriate nickname. "He's just a big tongue with four legs!"
Last weekend, my brother visited from Alabama. He asked to meet Donovan so, before he left town, they stopped over here. We trotted the pup out to meet the relatives. Chuckie seemed suitably impressed, and gave Donovan his new, extremely appropriate nickname. "He's just a big tongue with four legs!"
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Down the Hatch
The restaurant where we had dinner Saturday night is called "Dante's Down the Hatch". About 16 years ago, I went to a Dante's in another part of Atlanta and had a wonderful experience, so I suggested it to Don. He looked it up on line and found this one in Buckhead. The entrance was behind a lovely mansion (at first we thought the house was the restaurant, but then noticed a sign that said Dante's was around the back). There was a boardwalk leading around a curvy path, past an old wooden building with wooden barrels out front, past a crocodile grave, and into a dark, wooden room. The restaurant is an 1880's ship anchored in a port. The wharf is teeming with businesses and most had open-air dining and wax period people hanging out the windows and standing on balconies. The entire wharf-area was part of the restaurant. We walked on the wooden wharf through the little village with live crocodiles and turtles swimming in the moat beneath us. At first, we thought they were fake, finding it just too shocking that they would have live crocodiles in the restaurant. Then Don noticed several warming lights over what appeared to be nesting areas with ramps going down to the water and we looked closer, only to have one of the smaller crocs wink at me. A waiter later explained that they're Dante's pets and they have a handler that comes in every morning to feed them fresh meat.
As we walked past the bow of the massive ship around the wharf, I was struck by how authentic the surroundings were. We were seated on the ship which had 3 or 4 stories, cut out in the center, with a grand piano in the middle on the bottom floor. A classical pianist played until 7:00, when the Jazz Combo took over. The music was excellent and the entire restaurant was lit by candles on the tables, track lighting on the wharf and steps, and lighthouses blinking to other ships still out at sea. The ship was complete with rails, sails, tack, men hanging from ropes, a ship's wheel, and other paraphenalia. The tables were small and cozy and each one had its own personality.
The restaurant serves fondue. We began with an appetizer portion of cheese fondue into which we dipped french and honey nut bread and apples. Next our meat and vegetable trays were delivered. Two pots had been placed on our table when our appetizer arrived - one with denatured alcohol for the cheese fondue, another of the same to heat up our cooking oil in the second pot. We ordered chicken and an Oriental mix of battered jumbo shrimp, garlic pork, marinaded beef and ginger chicken. Each order came with mushrooms and squash and 4 types of dipping sauce. Although cooking was a slow process, each person had been given 2 fondue forks and we had as many cooking at a time as we could fit in the pot. Deanna leaned back, tipped her head onto the back on the seat, closed her eyes and enjoyed the music. The boys stayed occupied between bites looking at all the cool stuff in the restaurant.
Before we knew it, two hours had passed and we were having a wonderful time. The only thing that could have made it better would have been a dance floor, although I'm not sure I could have talked Don into dancing. At one point, we went looking for the bathrooms, which were down a flight of stairs off the wharf. At the bottom was an elderly black man in a bow tie and short white jacket (the bathroom attendant). The area in front of the bathrooms was a replica of a 1920's 2-seater barber shop, complete with the pole, tools, and mirrors. There also was an old manual elevator which was turned into a phone booth and contained an old wooden phone. The whole thing was enchanting. Inside the Ladies' Room, there was a wall of glass that was dark. While we were washing our hands, a light came on behind the glass and a wax body began talking to us. It was quite interesting.
On the wall where our quaint little tables was located was an authentic advertisement for an Auction that was held in the 1880's in a small harbor town in England. A ship had been run aground by pirates who tampered with the lighthouse. The ship parts were being auctioned off, one by one. The boys thought this was amazing - pirates!!
Just as we were finishing up dinner, the owner, Dante, visited our table. It seems he makes the rounds each evening. We had a nice chat with a very southern gentleman, then paid the crocs another visit before stumbling out into the daylight for our walk back to the train station.
The train ride alone would have made the evening memorable, but the restaurant is something the older two will never forget. It was a wonderful night and the children were profusely thankful. Over and over again they thanked their father for doing the research, finding the restaurant, and planning this great family adventure.
When Don and I were first married, I was always the one planning adventures. It seems the shoe has shifted now and Daddy is just as interested in making our children's lives memorable and fun. Saturday proved it once again. I'm sure there'll be many more adventures in our lives like Saturday, but this is definately one for the old diary.
As we walked past the bow of the massive ship around the wharf, I was struck by how authentic the surroundings were. We were seated on the ship which had 3 or 4 stories, cut out in the center, with a grand piano in the middle on the bottom floor. A classical pianist played until 7:00, when the Jazz Combo took over. The music was excellent and the entire restaurant was lit by candles on the tables, track lighting on the wharf and steps, and lighthouses blinking to other ships still out at sea. The ship was complete with rails, sails, tack, men hanging from ropes, a ship's wheel, and other paraphenalia. The tables were small and cozy and each one had its own personality.
The restaurant serves fondue. We began with an appetizer portion of cheese fondue into which we dipped french and honey nut bread and apples. Next our meat and vegetable trays were delivered. Two pots had been placed on our table when our appetizer arrived - one with denatured alcohol for the cheese fondue, another of the same to heat up our cooking oil in the second pot. We ordered chicken and an Oriental mix of battered jumbo shrimp, garlic pork, marinaded beef and ginger chicken. Each order came with mushrooms and squash and 4 types of dipping sauce. Although cooking was a slow process, each person had been given 2 fondue forks and we had as many cooking at a time as we could fit in the pot. Deanna leaned back, tipped her head onto the back on the seat, closed her eyes and enjoyed the music. The boys stayed occupied between bites looking at all the cool stuff in the restaurant.
Before we knew it, two hours had passed and we were having a wonderful time. The only thing that could have made it better would have been a dance floor, although I'm not sure I could have talked Don into dancing. At one point, we went looking for the bathrooms, which were down a flight of stairs off the wharf. At the bottom was an elderly black man in a bow tie and short white jacket (the bathroom attendant). The area in front of the bathrooms was a replica of a 1920's 2-seater barber shop, complete with the pole, tools, and mirrors. There also was an old manual elevator which was turned into a phone booth and contained an old wooden phone. The whole thing was enchanting. Inside the Ladies' Room, there was a wall of glass that was dark. While we were washing our hands, a light came on behind the glass and a wax body began talking to us. It was quite interesting.
On the wall where our quaint little tables was located was an authentic advertisement for an Auction that was held in the 1880's in a small harbor town in England. A ship had been run aground by pirates who tampered with the lighthouse. The ship parts were being auctioned off, one by one. The boys thought this was amazing - pirates!!
Just as we were finishing up dinner, the owner, Dante, visited our table. It seems he makes the rounds each evening. We had a nice chat with a very southern gentleman, then paid the crocs another visit before stumbling out into the daylight for our walk back to the train station.
The train ride alone would have made the evening memorable, but the restaurant is something the older two will never forget. It was a wonderful night and the children were profusely thankful. Over and over again they thanked their father for doing the research, finding the restaurant, and planning this great family adventure.
When Don and I were first married, I was always the one planning adventures. It seems the shoe has shifted now and Daddy is just as interested in making our children's lives memorable and fun. Saturday proved it once again. I'm sure there'll be many more adventures in our lives like Saturday, but this is definately one for the old diary.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Our Weekend Adventure
We sure had a wonderful adventure Saturday night. My parents were leaving for Canada and needed a ride to the airport 3 hours away. Since their flight was leaving on a weekend, it seemed like a good opportunity for Don and I to drive them. Most of the time, when they go on Mission trips, they fly out during the week and it's just not possible for us to drive them. Plus, it gave my siblings, their children and spouses a bit of a break.
The problem, of course, is that 3 hours one way means 6 hours round trip and that's a hefty drive for the children without something fun to do inbetween. We thought this would give us a wonderful opportunity to spend some time with my nephew who lives in Atlanta. We called him and found out he was coming home this weekend - a very rare occurrence. So that flew out the window.
We did all kinds of research on the Internet. We looked over just about every possibility of things to do. We considered the new Georgia Aquarium, Stone Mountain, Six Flags, Olympic Park ... In the end, Don decided we would just drive up, have dinner at a fun restaurant, and drive home. Their flight didn't leave until 5:30, which meant that paying for anything would be somewhat of a waste, since the day would be practically over before we arrived. But Don, who always has a heart to do fun things that will interest the children, did more leg-work than I knew about.
We took Grandma and Grandpa, got them checked in, said our good-bye's, went to the bathroom, asked directions, then loaded back up in the van and drove a couple of miles to College Park, a suburb of Atlanta. We parked the van at the Marta station in the free daily parking lot, bought tickets, and waited for our train. The train ride took 1/2 an hour and we disembarked at Lenox Mall in Buckhead, a very nice, ritzy part of the city. We walked through the Mall, out the other side, across the street and into the restaurant. On the way home, we walked half a block to a different station and caught our train back to College Park. I had rented a movie from the video store for the children, so we loaded up, I gave them popcorn that I had popped before we left, and put on the old version of "Yours, Mine and Ours" - the one with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball. Don and I got a chance to talk while the children munched their popcorn and watched a movie. Daelyn fell asleep immediately and Dane didn't make it to the end of the movie.
The kids loved the train ride, the whole experience of the subway system and buying tickets, and watching on the platform for the train. We got so excited when we saw the train coming that we jumped on and forgot to check the destination. Sure enough, we were on the wrong train. Don got off at the next stop and talked to the Train Operator who gave us directions on how to rectify the problem. After he got back on, two young men on the train recommended a different way that seemed to make better sense. I told Don and he said that they road the subway a lot more than us, and we ought to try their way. We felt like a bunch of country-bumpkins, but that didn't even deter our excitement and sense of adventure. We just got to take another train.
I was amazed at how helpful people were. You could sure tell we were in the south and not D.C. or N.Y. I've traveled the subway in big cities before and no one speaks or even makes eye contact. Saturday, we had several experiences of being confused and discussing it with each other when a passer-by would overhear, stop, and offer advice. We were so blessed. It happened with every question we had. And in almost every case, we didn't ask anyone, they just heard us and volunteered the information. After making our return train trip, we got off at the College Park station, exited, and couldn't find our car. In fact, the exit didn't look like where we had entered and the parking lot was totally unfamiliar. We walked back to the exit and checked the name of the station to be sure we were at the right place. Yep, it was College Park. Don said he thought we must have walked out the wrong side of the station, but you couldn't get back through the turnstiles to cross over without purchasing more tickets. We were discussing whether or not there was any other way to cross over the tracks when a gentlemen, some ways away from us, called to us and asked if we had lost our car. We responded affirmatively. He walked over to us and told us that was a frequent problem and we could get the Marta attendant to let us back through so we could exit on the other side. He reassured us that we shouldn't be embarrassed, that it happened to even frequent travelers. You get mixed up and forget where you parked, he explained. We thanked him for his help, then sought out the attendant and got access to the other side. Like he had told us, it was no big deal. And everything on that side looked right. We quickly found our van.
I was amazed at how helpful people were. And everyone who helped us was African-American. There was no race barrier, just friendly southerners helping other southerners in need. It was such a blessing from the Lord and an amazing experience.
Since Deanna's "adventure" where we got lost in the woods returning from a funeral, she's been very reluctant to take adventures. She was a little nervous about the train and commented that it would be just our luck that the train would break down. This trip even restored her excitement about adventures and I think she'll face them in the future with a willing heart.
The problem, of course, is that 3 hours one way means 6 hours round trip and that's a hefty drive for the children without something fun to do inbetween. We thought this would give us a wonderful opportunity to spend some time with my nephew who lives in Atlanta. We called him and found out he was coming home this weekend - a very rare occurrence. So that flew out the window.
We did all kinds of research on the Internet. We looked over just about every possibility of things to do. We considered the new Georgia Aquarium, Stone Mountain, Six Flags, Olympic Park ... In the end, Don decided we would just drive up, have dinner at a fun restaurant, and drive home. Their flight didn't leave until 5:30, which meant that paying for anything would be somewhat of a waste, since the day would be practically over before we arrived. But Don, who always has a heart to do fun things that will interest the children, did more leg-work than I knew about.
We took Grandma and Grandpa, got them checked in, said our good-bye's, went to the bathroom, asked directions, then loaded back up in the van and drove a couple of miles to College Park, a suburb of Atlanta. We parked the van at the Marta station in the free daily parking lot, bought tickets, and waited for our train. The train ride took 1/2 an hour and we disembarked at Lenox Mall in Buckhead, a very nice, ritzy part of the city. We walked through the Mall, out the other side, across the street and into the restaurant. On the way home, we walked half a block to a different station and caught our train back to College Park. I had rented a movie from the video store for the children, so we loaded up, I gave them popcorn that I had popped before we left, and put on the old version of "Yours, Mine and Ours" - the one with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball. Don and I got a chance to talk while the children munched their popcorn and watched a movie. Daelyn fell asleep immediately and Dane didn't make it to the end of the movie.
The kids loved the train ride, the whole experience of the subway system and buying tickets, and watching on the platform for the train. We got so excited when we saw the train coming that we jumped on and forgot to check the destination. Sure enough, we were on the wrong train. Don got off at the next stop and talked to the Train Operator who gave us directions on how to rectify the problem. After he got back on, two young men on the train recommended a different way that seemed to make better sense. I told Don and he said that they road the subway a lot more than us, and we ought to try their way. We felt like a bunch of country-bumpkins, but that didn't even deter our excitement and sense of adventure. We just got to take another train.
I was amazed at how helpful people were. You could sure tell we were in the south and not D.C. or N.Y. I've traveled the subway in big cities before and no one speaks or even makes eye contact. Saturday, we had several experiences of being confused and discussing it with each other when a passer-by would overhear, stop, and offer advice. We were so blessed. It happened with every question we had. And in almost every case, we didn't ask anyone, they just heard us and volunteered the information. After making our return train trip, we got off at the College Park station, exited, and couldn't find our car. In fact, the exit didn't look like where we had entered and the parking lot was totally unfamiliar. We walked back to the exit and checked the name of the station to be sure we were at the right place. Yep, it was College Park. Don said he thought we must have walked out the wrong side of the station, but you couldn't get back through the turnstiles to cross over without purchasing more tickets. We were discussing whether or not there was any other way to cross over the tracks when a gentlemen, some ways away from us, called to us and asked if we had lost our car. We responded affirmatively. He walked over to us and told us that was a frequent problem and we could get the Marta attendant to let us back through so we could exit on the other side. He reassured us that we shouldn't be embarrassed, that it happened to even frequent travelers. You get mixed up and forget where you parked, he explained. We thanked him for his help, then sought out the attendant and got access to the other side. Like he had told us, it was no big deal. And everything on that side looked right. We quickly found our van.
I was amazed at how helpful people were. And everyone who helped us was African-American. There was no race barrier, just friendly southerners helping other southerners in need. It was such a blessing from the Lord and an amazing experience.
Since Deanna's "adventure" where we got lost in the woods returning from a funeral, she's been very reluctant to take adventures. She was a little nervous about the train and commented that it would be just our luck that the train would break down. This trip even restored her excitement about adventures and I think she'll face them in the future with a willing heart.
Friday, July 14, 2006
A Time to Bid Farewell
My parents are leaving tomorrow to go to Canada for a visit. My mother's only brother has been battling some form of cancer for the last couple of months. It's been hard to get details. Between the Socialized medicine and his unwillingness to pass along bad news, the picture changes with each conversation.
A couple of weeks ago, Mom heard from her nephew (himself in his late 50's or early 60's) that he had gone to visit Uncle Stevie. When he asked my Uncle how he was doing, he replied, "Not bad, considering the doctors only gave me 6 - 8 months to live a couple of months ago."
This installment of news was shocking and was the first really clear report we'd gotten. Apparently, he's in much worse shape that he had led us to believe. Couple that with the fact that his wife has terminal cancer and, in addition, is fighting radiation sickness from her attempts at battling the cancer, and things are in a rough spot up there.
My mother called her only surviving sister to discuss the situation. Her sister explained that she had her own hands full - the doctors think she has cancer, as well, but she was on the waiting list for some diagnostic tests to determine whether or not she does. She said until she could get the tests done, which can take months in Canada, she wouldn't know for sure.
Mama is facing the reality that she may outlive her last two remaining siblings. It's unbelieveable to think of losing your entire family, but she already has lost all but these two. They were 7 children and now even the spouses are deceased. She has two remaining brother-in-laws, one who is estranged and the other who we never get to see. Then, her sister-in-law, younger sister, and baby brother. There WERE 14 of them. That number has now dwindled to 7, including both my parents, and 3 of those 7 are fighting cancer.
So Mama goes home to see her only brother for the last time. Home becomes less homey with every visit. Life has been stripped away. There comes a time when it's best to not return to places from our past, to visit them only in our memories. I feel that way when I go to Canada and walk down the street past my Grandmother's house. It held so much life for our family. Now, it belongs to someone else and I'm just a pedestrian on the street, a stranger to these people. The house has forgotten me and the life and love I felt there only exist inside me.
A sorrowful day today.
A couple of weeks ago, Mom heard from her nephew (himself in his late 50's or early 60's) that he had gone to visit Uncle Stevie. When he asked my Uncle how he was doing, he replied, "Not bad, considering the doctors only gave me 6 - 8 months to live a couple of months ago."
This installment of news was shocking and was the first really clear report we'd gotten. Apparently, he's in much worse shape that he had led us to believe. Couple that with the fact that his wife has terminal cancer and, in addition, is fighting radiation sickness from her attempts at battling the cancer, and things are in a rough spot up there.
My mother called her only surviving sister to discuss the situation. Her sister explained that she had her own hands full - the doctors think she has cancer, as well, but she was on the waiting list for some diagnostic tests to determine whether or not she does. She said until she could get the tests done, which can take months in Canada, she wouldn't know for sure.
Mama is facing the reality that she may outlive her last two remaining siblings. It's unbelieveable to think of losing your entire family, but she already has lost all but these two. They were 7 children and now even the spouses are deceased. She has two remaining brother-in-laws, one who is estranged and the other who we never get to see. Then, her sister-in-law, younger sister, and baby brother. There WERE 14 of them. That number has now dwindled to 7, including both my parents, and 3 of those 7 are fighting cancer.
So Mama goes home to see her only brother for the last time. Home becomes less homey with every visit. Life has been stripped away. There comes a time when it's best to not return to places from our past, to visit them only in our memories. I feel that way when I go to Canada and walk down the street past my Grandmother's house. It held so much life for our family. Now, it belongs to someone else and I'm just a pedestrian on the street, a stranger to these people. The house has forgotten me and the life and love I felt there only exist inside me.
A sorrowful day today.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Late Spring Cleaning
I'm taking a break from the toy room. I'm determined to bring some order and peace to our home this summer. I'm sorting every cabinet, every closet, every space and getting RID of things. So far I've filled two tall garbage bags with trash from the toy room, another to donate to Good Will, another for the Salvation Army and one to go in the attic for our yard sale. I still have lots more to accomplish, but the floor is totally cleaned off as are the wire mesh shelves. I've started going through all the bins and am cleaning them out, but don't think I'll finish it all today. I've decided that if I get rid of even 1/3 of their toys now, I can go back through a stream-lined version after school starts and get rid of more. By then, I'll have a good idea what of the items left the children really play with.
Truth is, there's plenty of things they won't play with that I can't bring myself to get rid of. Either they're toys that they've spent many hours with in the past or they're items like Geomags that I invested lots of money in and want the children to get interested in, even if they aren't just yet. I'm hoping that if I get the room sufficiently neatened, there will be space in there for the children to play with the toys they have. I talked with Dane today about getting rid of his train set and train table (which he never even touches). He said he'd like to hang onto the table so he can use it to do puzzles and play games on. Makes good sense to me. We'll see if it actually happens.
At this point in Dane and Deanna's life, they never really play with toys. Dane does like puzzles, so I'm keeping those, but the majority of the toys I'm keeping for Daelyn's benefit. And how many things can one little 4-yr. old play with at one time?
It felt great today to throw away a big bag of toys that were broken or cheap. It'll feel even better to drop off several big bags at the Salvation Army.
Once I finish the toy room, I have to tackle the clothes the children have outgrown that are accumulating on the counter in the laundry room. Order. Peace. Simplicity. Hope. The stuff of dreams!
Truth is, there's plenty of things they won't play with that I can't bring myself to get rid of. Either they're toys that they've spent many hours with in the past or they're items like Geomags that I invested lots of money in and want the children to get interested in, even if they aren't just yet. I'm hoping that if I get the room sufficiently neatened, there will be space in there for the children to play with the toys they have. I talked with Dane today about getting rid of his train set and train table (which he never even touches). He said he'd like to hang onto the table so he can use it to do puzzles and play games on. Makes good sense to me. We'll see if it actually happens.
At this point in Dane and Deanna's life, they never really play with toys. Dane does like puzzles, so I'm keeping those, but the majority of the toys I'm keeping for Daelyn's benefit. And how many things can one little 4-yr. old play with at one time?
It felt great today to throw away a big bag of toys that were broken or cheap. It'll feel even better to drop off several big bags at the Salvation Army.
Once I finish the toy room, I have to tackle the clothes the children have outgrown that are accumulating on the counter in the laundry room. Order. Peace. Simplicity. Hope. The stuff of dreams!
Monday, July 10, 2006
My Little Horsewoman
Today was the first day of Horse Camp. I had trouble sleeping last night. I was very concerned for Deanna.
She's only nine, after all. And she's never been involved in any activity other than church-related or school-related. She's NEVER gone into a group environment where she knows no one (other than Vacation Bible School at Grandma and Grandpa Doughty's). Here, she was a newcomer, never having done Horse Camp before. She's an extreme novice rider, only having been on a horse twice before. I was concerned that she'd either get left out or overhear inappropriate talk or witness inappropriate behavior.
She had trouble sleeping, as well. Before I put her to bed last night, we talked about how important it was that she turn to the Lord if she encountered difficulties today. We talked about the importance of not being like everyone else, working hard at being who God wanted her to be. At 2:00 a.m., she was out of bed going to the bathroom.
That wasn't our first interruption last night, nor our last. Daelyn climbed into bed between Don and me at 1:00, having had a nightmare. It took some talking to calm him down and get him back in his own bed. Then, Deanna at 2:00. At 3:00, Donovan began to whine. He needed to go out - pretty unusual during the night for him, but he's not been feeling well, eating poorly, and his body's a little off schedule. Then he had trouble settling back down again and wanted in the bed with me. He succeeded at keeping we awake for an hour. At 6:00, my alarm went off and it was time to start the day.
I called Don at work after dropping her off and signing her in. I hung around for a few minutes until the morning briefing began and she seemed peaceful. Then we had some errands to run. I dialed Don's number on my cell phone and reported that she was there.
"Please pray, honey," I begged. "I'm so worried about her."
"I have been, all morning. But I'll continue to," he answered.
It was pins and needles all afternoon until we finally went to pick her up. Camp starts at 7:30 and ends at 4:30 - a very long day. When we arrived, she was outside playing a game but ran to me once she spotted us and told me to sign her out. It was hard to judge from her countenance what had happened. I couldn't wait to get to the privacy of the van.
"So - - - what happened? Did you have fun? Did you make any friends? Did you have a good day? Did you get to ride George?"
The short of it is that she DID get to ride the horse she wanted, George, and will have him for the rest of the week. He acted up a little for her and refused to weave through the barrels like he was supposed to. But she plans on setting him straight. She found two Christian girls in her class, but there is one girl who pretend cries a lot whenever she wants something and doesn't think she's going to get her way and another older girl that was mean to the girl that whines. Deanna defended her and told the older girl that she should be looking out for the younger ones, not being mean to them. Go, Deanna!
I asked if she wants to go back tomorrow. She tipped her chin down and looked up at me with a slight grin.
"Mama, what do you think?"
When asked if she wants to return next year, the answer was affirmative. She better start saving for it now.
All told, my daughter handled herself quite maturely and had a wonderful time. When our friend, Ken, came for dinner tonight and asked Deanna about Camp, I explained that she's decided to start GIVING lessons next week, now that she's an expert and all. Deanna smiled from ear to ear.
It's still only the first day of a long, hot week, but the rest promises to be even more fun. Wednesday they start trail rides and Thursday they get to wash the horses.
I asked her if she had to muck out the stables today, something I was very concerned about. I wasn't wild about paying a fortune so my daughter could perform slave labor. She laughed and said that mucking out the stables consisted of standing around while the paid employees did the work, watching so they could learn the concept. She didn't seem too concerned that she may be mucking tomorrow.
All part of a horsewoman's life.
She's only nine, after all. And she's never been involved in any activity other than church-related or school-related. She's NEVER gone into a group environment where she knows no one (other than Vacation Bible School at Grandma and Grandpa Doughty's). Here, she was a newcomer, never having done Horse Camp before. She's an extreme novice rider, only having been on a horse twice before. I was concerned that she'd either get left out or overhear inappropriate talk or witness inappropriate behavior.
She had trouble sleeping, as well. Before I put her to bed last night, we talked about how important it was that she turn to the Lord if she encountered difficulties today. We talked about the importance of not being like everyone else, working hard at being who God wanted her to be. At 2:00 a.m., she was out of bed going to the bathroom.
That wasn't our first interruption last night, nor our last. Daelyn climbed into bed between Don and me at 1:00, having had a nightmare. It took some talking to calm him down and get him back in his own bed. Then, Deanna at 2:00. At 3:00, Donovan began to whine. He needed to go out - pretty unusual during the night for him, but he's not been feeling well, eating poorly, and his body's a little off schedule. Then he had trouble settling back down again and wanted in the bed with me. He succeeded at keeping we awake for an hour. At 6:00, my alarm went off and it was time to start the day.
I called Don at work after dropping her off and signing her in. I hung around for a few minutes until the morning briefing began and she seemed peaceful. Then we had some errands to run. I dialed Don's number on my cell phone and reported that she was there.
"Please pray, honey," I begged. "I'm so worried about her."
"I have been, all morning. But I'll continue to," he answered.
It was pins and needles all afternoon until we finally went to pick her up. Camp starts at 7:30 and ends at 4:30 - a very long day. When we arrived, she was outside playing a game but ran to me once she spotted us and told me to sign her out. It was hard to judge from her countenance what had happened. I couldn't wait to get to the privacy of the van.
"So - - - what happened? Did you have fun? Did you make any friends? Did you have a good day? Did you get to ride George?"
The short of it is that she DID get to ride the horse she wanted, George, and will have him for the rest of the week. He acted up a little for her and refused to weave through the barrels like he was supposed to. But she plans on setting him straight. She found two Christian girls in her class, but there is one girl who pretend cries a lot whenever she wants something and doesn't think she's going to get her way and another older girl that was mean to the girl that whines. Deanna defended her and told the older girl that she should be looking out for the younger ones, not being mean to them. Go, Deanna!
I asked if she wants to go back tomorrow. She tipped her chin down and looked up at me with a slight grin.
"Mama, what do you think?"
When asked if she wants to return next year, the answer was affirmative. She better start saving for it now.
All told, my daughter handled herself quite maturely and had a wonderful time. When our friend, Ken, came for dinner tonight and asked Deanna about Camp, I explained that she's decided to start GIVING lessons next week, now that she's an expert and all. Deanna smiled from ear to ear.
It's still only the first day of a long, hot week, but the rest promises to be even more fun. Wednesday they start trail rides and Thursday they get to wash the horses.
I asked her if she had to muck out the stables today, something I was very concerned about. I wasn't wild about paying a fortune so my daughter could perform slave labor. She laughed and said that mucking out the stables consisted of standing around while the paid employees did the work, watching so they could learn the concept. She didn't seem too concerned that she may be mucking tomorrow.
All part of a horsewoman's life.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Daelyn Acting Out
This morning, while the children were eating breakfast, Dane started crying and told me that Daelyn had punched him in the chest three times. For a season, we seemed to have Daelyn's violent tendencies and his hitting, punching, kicking, biting ... under control. But things have gotten worse again so it was time to clamp back down on the discipline.
When we were spanking for each hitting offense, I began to get an uneasiness in my spirit. Somehow, it didn't seem right to discipline hitting with spanking. Don and I decided to try time-out's. We have two high stools in the kitchen, so I'd pull one out into the middle of the kitchen floor, away from anything that possibly could become a toy, and Daelyn would have to sit silently for the number of minutes of his age.
This morning, the time-out stool came back out. Daelyn started shrieking as soon as he saw me pull the stool out.
"Not the time-out stool!!!" he screamed. "I'm not sitting on that!! Not the time-out stool, Mama."
You would have thought I had just opened the door to a torture chamber. As he shrieked and grabbed the back of the stool, shaking it in anger and frustration, I set the timer for 4 minutes - one more than the last time he experienced a time-out. I finally told him that if he didn't stop mistreating the furniture, he would be spanked. He settled down to his 4 minute punishment.
But, oh, can he find things to complain about. He's supposed to be silent - the real challenge to time-out stool - but he needed a Kleenex because the crying got the nose started running. Then he needed the trash can for the soiled Kleenex. Pretty soon, Sissy was silently wandering around the kitchen bringing him the big kitchen trash can and placing a box of Kleenex on his stool. She put her finger to her lips, cautioning him not to speak, but smiled at him in reassurance.
The timer went off. Daelyn started to climb down and hit his ribs on the seat. He began wailing again. Dane ran to him and cuddled him, then walked him back to the breakfast table, Daelyn still crying.
"Do you want me to give you a Noogey?" Dane asked Daelyn. Daelyn frowned at his brother and yelled, "No!"
"Then how about I give myself a Noogey?" Dane proceeded to rub the top of his head hard with his fist. Daelyn started to laugh.
I watched all of this from my seat at the table. You sure can tell Daelyn is the baby of the family. He punched his brother in the chest, not once or twice, but three times and now Dane is giving himself noogeys to cheer up the little culprit. True love.
Love sure is patient and kind. And children seem to be able to express it in its purest sense.
When we were spanking for each hitting offense, I began to get an uneasiness in my spirit. Somehow, it didn't seem right to discipline hitting with spanking. Don and I decided to try time-out's. We have two high stools in the kitchen, so I'd pull one out into the middle of the kitchen floor, away from anything that possibly could become a toy, and Daelyn would have to sit silently for the number of minutes of his age.
This morning, the time-out stool came back out. Daelyn started shrieking as soon as he saw me pull the stool out.
"Not the time-out stool!!!" he screamed. "I'm not sitting on that!! Not the time-out stool, Mama."
You would have thought I had just opened the door to a torture chamber. As he shrieked and grabbed the back of the stool, shaking it in anger and frustration, I set the timer for 4 minutes - one more than the last time he experienced a time-out. I finally told him that if he didn't stop mistreating the furniture, he would be spanked. He settled down to his 4 minute punishment.
But, oh, can he find things to complain about. He's supposed to be silent - the real challenge to time-out stool - but he needed a Kleenex because the crying got the nose started running. Then he needed the trash can for the soiled Kleenex. Pretty soon, Sissy was silently wandering around the kitchen bringing him the big kitchen trash can and placing a box of Kleenex on his stool. She put her finger to her lips, cautioning him not to speak, but smiled at him in reassurance.
The timer went off. Daelyn started to climb down and hit his ribs on the seat. He began wailing again. Dane ran to him and cuddled him, then walked him back to the breakfast table, Daelyn still crying.
"Do you want me to give you a Noogey?" Dane asked Daelyn. Daelyn frowned at his brother and yelled, "No!"
"Then how about I give myself a Noogey?" Dane proceeded to rub the top of his head hard with his fist. Daelyn started to laugh.
I watched all of this from my seat at the table. You sure can tell Daelyn is the baby of the family. He punched his brother in the chest, not once or twice, but three times and now Dane is giving himself noogeys to cheer up the little culprit. True love.
Love sure is patient and kind. And children seem to be able to express it in its purest sense.
Friday, July 07, 2006
The Limits of my Creativity
Did my Post from yesterday throw you a little for a loop? Everyday, Daelyn drives me crazy at naptime. He insists on a made-up story. For a while, I read him a story each day, but he prefers the ones I tell him "with your mouth". My brain is a little fuzzy from trying to come up with a new and interesting story.
I've developed somewhat of a formula. The characters are always named after my children and the storyline usually involves one of them getting into some kind of trouble, then being saved by another. Usually the characters are critters of one kind of another.
There was the one where Deanna was a Princess who was an only child and lonesome for a sibling. Turns out, the son of the Tutor who comes to live with them is her real blood brother who was kidnapped as an infant and found later, abandoned, by the kindly old tutor. Her brother and the tutor find a permanent home in the Palace and the castle is forever after filled with life.
Once, it was about a magic horse. Then there was the time that the runt of a litter of puppies, who was always being laughed at and told he couldn't do anything worthwhile because he was too small, saves the farmer's son who falls into a hole in the woods. The only animal small enough, he climbs into the hole and consoles the young child after finding him and going for help. He stays with the frightened child until the Search Party is able to dig the boy out.
Sometimes, I think it's impossible for me to think up one more story. We've been ants, beavers, horses, mice, puppies, ladybugs ... Yesterday, I had reached the end of my rope. I told Daelyn there were no more stories in me, but he insisted, and started it for me - "There once was a monkey named Daelyn who didn't want to take his nap ..." I picked it up from there.
So the stories continue. And I desperately look for new material. Hope you enjoyed the meanderings of my crazy, 4-yr. old influenced mind. I won't too often bother you with my stories, but that was what was on my mind at the time.
I've developed somewhat of a formula. The characters are always named after my children and the storyline usually involves one of them getting into some kind of trouble, then being saved by another. Usually the characters are critters of one kind of another.
There was the one where Deanna was a Princess who was an only child and lonesome for a sibling. Turns out, the son of the Tutor who comes to live with them is her real blood brother who was kidnapped as an infant and found later, abandoned, by the kindly old tutor. Her brother and the tutor find a permanent home in the Palace and the castle is forever after filled with life.
Once, it was about a magic horse. Then there was the time that the runt of a litter of puppies, who was always being laughed at and told he couldn't do anything worthwhile because he was too small, saves the farmer's son who falls into a hole in the woods. The only animal small enough, he climbs into the hole and consoles the young child after finding him and going for help. He stays with the frightened child until the Search Party is able to dig the boy out.
Sometimes, I think it's impossible for me to think up one more story. We've been ants, beavers, horses, mice, puppies, ladybugs ... Yesterday, I had reached the end of my rope. I told Daelyn there were no more stories in me, but he insisted, and started it for me - "There once was a monkey named Daelyn who didn't want to take his nap ..." I picked it up from there.
So the stories continue. And I desperately look for new material. Hope you enjoyed the meanderings of my crazy, 4-yr. old influenced mind. I won't too often bother you with my stories, but that was what was on my mind at the time.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
"There was once a little monkey . . .
. . . whose name was Daelyn. Every afternoon, Daelyn's mommy would call to him through the trees, 'Daelyn, it's time for your nap. Come home, please.' Daelyn didn't like taking naps and thought he was old enough to not have to take naps everyday.
One day, after lunch was over and Daelyn knew Mommy would be calling to him soon to take his nap, he made up his mind to go as far away as he could so he wouldn't hear Mommy when she called. He thought this was a wonderful idea and flew from treelimb to treelimb, first this way, then that, until he was quite certain he was far enough away that he would never hear Mommy's voice.
'What a smart monkey I am,' Daelyn thought. 'Now I can play all afternoon and when Mommy says that I didn't come when she called me, I can tell her that I didn't hear her, and it will be the truth.' Daelyn played all afternoon, practicing flips and twirls through the treetops, first catching himself with his tail, then practicing with his front left leg, then his right back leg. Finally, Daelyn noticed that the sky was beginning to darken.
'It's almost nightime,' he said outloud, although there was no one around to hear. 'I guess I better go home now.' As Daelyn looked through the trees for the way home, he realized that he had no idea how to get there. He had taken so many different turns that he couldn't tell which direction was home.
'That's okay,' he told himself silently. 'I'm old enough to be on my own. I'll just find a comfortable place to sleep and prove to Mommy that I can take care of myself.'
He finally settled down onto a leaf-covered branch, but it wasn't nearly as soft as his bed at home. As the sky around him grew darker, he began to notice strange noises in the night.
'I'm sure those are the same noises I hear at home,' he told himself, 'they just sound louder without Mommy and Daddy to protect me.' As the night grew darker, the noises got louder. Then Daelyn heard a different noise, coming from him, and realized that he hadn't eaten any dinner. His stomach was growling. He was very hungry. But it was too dark now to find food and nobody had called him to dinner. And, at home, Mommy always gathered the food for him so he could play longer. He began to miss having food whenever he wanted it.
As the growling in his stomach got louder, he noticed another sound coming from the trees around him and realized that he wasn't safe. At home, Mommy and Daddy always slept around him and his brother and sister so they could protect the children from any danger. But here, Daelyn was alone. There was nobody to protect him.
The more Daelyn thought about Mommy and Daddy, the lonelier he got. He missed his brother and sister. It had been fun to play all day by himself, but he didn't want to do it again the next day, and the next, and the one after that. He wanted his brother and sister. He missed his friends.
All this became too much for Daelyn and he began to cry softly. He wanted his warm, soft bed. He wanted his brother and sister. He wanted his dinner and Mommy and Daddy sleeping near him to protect him. Leaving home had been a very big mistake. Daelyn began to feel even worse, and his crying got louder and louder.
Then Daelyn noticed a new sound. He wasn't sure what the sound was, but he listened carefully, quieting his own crying so he could hear better. Even though the sound was far off, he thought it was a little familiar. Slowly, the sound got louder and louder until he finally realized that the sound was the voice of his Daddy.
'Daelyn, where are you, son,' Daddy called in his deep voice.
'I'm here, Daddy, right here!' Daelyn yelled, then continued to call until Daddy found him in his bed in the tree. Daddy scooped him up, gave him a quick hug, then told Daelyn that they were in danger there and they were going home. Daelyn was very happy Daddy had come for him.
When Daddy and Daelyn got home, Mommy was waiting. She wrapped Daelyn in her warm, furry body, gave him 3 bananas for dinner, then hurried him off to bed.
'It's very late, son. And you've been a very naughty monkey. You need to go to sleep now and we'll talk about this in the morning.'
The next morning, Daelyn explained his whole story to Mama. After Mommy and Daddy explained how much danger Daelyn had put himself in, they decided to not punish him. They said he had been punished enough by the choices he had made.
Daelyn was happy to be home, even if Mommy and Daddy were still a little angry. And he now knew that he wasn't too old for a nap, or the safety of his home. He was glad he had a Mommy and Daddy who loved him and wanted to protect him. Daelyn never ran away again and, for the rest of his life, he told other monkeys his story and tried to help them understand how much their mommies and daddies loved them. The End."
Brief silence. "Can you tell me another story now, Mama?" Daelyn asks.
"No, son. It's nap time. Go to sleep."
As Daelyn's eyes grow heavy and his breathing becomes more regular, I lean over, kiss him, and whisper in his ear, "You'll be grown one day, little monkey. For today, enjoy this nap and the comfort of your bed. I love you."
One day, after lunch was over and Daelyn knew Mommy would be calling to him soon to take his nap, he made up his mind to go as far away as he could so he wouldn't hear Mommy when she called. He thought this was a wonderful idea and flew from treelimb to treelimb, first this way, then that, until he was quite certain he was far enough away that he would never hear Mommy's voice.
'What a smart monkey I am,' Daelyn thought. 'Now I can play all afternoon and when Mommy says that I didn't come when she called me, I can tell her that I didn't hear her, and it will be the truth.' Daelyn played all afternoon, practicing flips and twirls through the treetops, first catching himself with his tail, then practicing with his front left leg, then his right back leg. Finally, Daelyn noticed that the sky was beginning to darken.
'It's almost nightime,' he said outloud, although there was no one around to hear. 'I guess I better go home now.' As Daelyn looked through the trees for the way home, he realized that he had no idea how to get there. He had taken so many different turns that he couldn't tell which direction was home.
'That's okay,' he told himself silently. 'I'm old enough to be on my own. I'll just find a comfortable place to sleep and prove to Mommy that I can take care of myself.'
He finally settled down onto a leaf-covered branch, but it wasn't nearly as soft as his bed at home. As the sky around him grew darker, he began to notice strange noises in the night.
'I'm sure those are the same noises I hear at home,' he told himself, 'they just sound louder without Mommy and Daddy to protect me.' As the night grew darker, the noises got louder. Then Daelyn heard a different noise, coming from him, and realized that he hadn't eaten any dinner. His stomach was growling. He was very hungry. But it was too dark now to find food and nobody had called him to dinner. And, at home, Mommy always gathered the food for him so he could play longer. He began to miss having food whenever he wanted it.
As the growling in his stomach got louder, he noticed another sound coming from the trees around him and realized that he wasn't safe. At home, Mommy and Daddy always slept around him and his brother and sister so they could protect the children from any danger. But here, Daelyn was alone. There was nobody to protect him.
The more Daelyn thought about Mommy and Daddy, the lonelier he got. He missed his brother and sister. It had been fun to play all day by himself, but he didn't want to do it again the next day, and the next, and the one after that. He wanted his brother and sister. He missed his friends.
All this became too much for Daelyn and he began to cry softly. He wanted his warm, soft bed. He wanted his brother and sister. He wanted his dinner and Mommy and Daddy sleeping near him to protect him. Leaving home had been a very big mistake. Daelyn began to feel even worse, and his crying got louder and louder.
Then Daelyn noticed a new sound. He wasn't sure what the sound was, but he listened carefully, quieting his own crying so he could hear better. Even though the sound was far off, he thought it was a little familiar. Slowly, the sound got louder and louder until he finally realized that the sound was the voice of his Daddy.
'Daelyn, where are you, son,' Daddy called in his deep voice.
'I'm here, Daddy, right here!' Daelyn yelled, then continued to call until Daddy found him in his bed in the tree. Daddy scooped him up, gave him a quick hug, then told Daelyn that they were in danger there and they were going home. Daelyn was very happy Daddy had come for him.
When Daddy and Daelyn got home, Mommy was waiting. She wrapped Daelyn in her warm, furry body, gave him 3 bananas for dinner, then hurried him off to bed.
'It's very late, son. And you've been a very naughty monkey. You need to go to sleep now and we'll talk about this in the morning.'
The next morning, Daelyn explained his whole story to Mama. After Mommy and Daddy explained how much danger Daelyn had put himself in, they decided to not punish him. They said he had been punished enough by the choices he had made.
Daelyn was happy to be home, even if Mommy and Daddy were still a little angry. And he now knew that he wasn't too old for a nap, or the safety of his home. He was glad he had a Mommy and Daddy who loved him and wanted to protect him. Daelyn never ran away again and, for the rest of his life, he told other monkeys his story and tried to help them understand how much their mommies and daddies loved them. The End."
Brief silence. "Can you tell me another story now, Mama?" Daelyn asks.
"No, son. It's nap time. Go to sleep."
As Daelyn's eyes grow heavy and his breathing becomes more regular, I lean over, kiss him, and whisper in his ear, "You'll be grown one day, little monkey. For today, enjoy this nap and the comfort of your bed. I love you."
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Our Celebration
Yesterday was glorious. We went to a neighborhood festival. But, even before that, the day started wonderfully.
Deanna and I went up to our church to pick up a pound of barbecued pork we ordered. Our church does a fundraiser each year for the 4th - they roast a pig and sell the barbecue. We wanted to support our church, even though we live only a few blocks from one of the best, nationally-known barbecue restaurants. We planned on getting hash and sauce from Sconyers, but Don ordered and paid for our barbecue from church. It had to be picked up between 9 and 1. While Deanna and I were gone, Don and the boys worked on the oven, finally fixing it. We got to see some friends and socialized with a few folks from our church. Then, on the way home, we stopped at a fireworks stand. I knew they recently changed the laws for our state because I've seen fireworks being sold in stores like Wal-Mart, but I didn't know what was now allowed. I asked the gentleman at the stand (all older men, which relieved me. I would have been concerned if it was just young, pyromaniac hippies working there) who explained that Georgia now allows fireworks that stay on the ground, rather than being shot up into the air. He pointed out lots of different types to me that are all allowable under Georgia State law. Deanna and I began adding to our selection and keeping a running total. We decided to stop at $10.00 worth but had quite a few nice, legal firworks.
By the time we got home, the boys and their dad had already left for the festival. Deanna and I fed the dog and put the barbecue away, then ran across the street to the party! One whole area was set up with carnival-type games for which you could win tickets. The tickets could be cashed in for prizes like visors, funny masks, balls, boomerangs, and other assorted cheapie junk - the stuff all the kids LOVE. They had a duck pond, a bean bag toss tic-tac-toe game, pop the balloon with a dart, a treasure chest full of pennies and bird seed where you had to find as many pennies as possible in 30 seconds, and several other fun games. There were also two pinatas for different age groups. Another area hosted the water games. There were baby pools for very small children, a slip and slide, a cool sprinkler that was like a volcano that erupted water then blew it into a fine mist, and a big, inflatable 2-laned waterslide. There was also a dunking booth and a few of the men had signed up to work in 1/2 hour increments.
In addition to the inflatable waterslide, there was an inflatable moonwalk and this cool inflatable thing that involved bungy cords. Then, there was the snack area. There were free snocones, a popcorn machine with GREAT popcorn, as much cotton candy as any of us could eat, and a soda machine. This all went on from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. At 2, they started a tug-of-war through vanilla pudding. All-in-all, the festivities went until around 3. Then we came home for lunch and a cool-down break. At 6:00, we returned for dinner - bring your own meal and a dessert to share. Following dinner, we cleaned up and took down the tables, then the entertainment started. We had a talent show to end all talent shows. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if it had been longer or the weather was cooler.
Towards the end, Neil Diamond showed up!! (Or, at least, a pretty good impersonation of him.) One of the men donned sunglasses and performed to "Coming to America". He ended it with setting off a curtain of fireworks across the stage. It was wonderful.
We came home from the festival hot and tired. We had a chance to cool down before some of our invited friends came over to set off our fireworks. At 9, we moved out into the driveway and began setting off our small, legal firecrackers. The people two houses down on the other side of the street were setting off huge, high-in-the-sky ones, so we watched inbetween our own. By 10, we were finished and getting the children settled down for bed.
While all of us were in the kitchen and the children were taking their medicines before bed, Dane said he thought we should spend sometime praying and thanking the Lord for our freedom. My heart jumped a beat - in the busyness and excitement of the day, thanking the Lord was something we had missed. Deanna chimed in and asked if we could also thank the Lord for the wonderful day we had had. We moved into the living room as a family, snuggled on the loveseat, and thanked the Lord for the sacrifices that led to this wonderful day of freedom. Then we thanked him, one by one, for all the blessings of this day. I sat and listened to my children, pouring out thankfulness to the Lord, and silently thanked Him for them. I'm so thankful that they understand the part the Lord plays in their lives and want to show their appreciation to Him.
It was a wonderful day, in every sense. Thank you, Jesus, for all your many blessings.
Deanna and I went up to our church to pick up a pound of barbecued pork we ordered. Our church does a fundraiser each year for the 4th - they roast a pig and sell the barbecue. We wanted to support our church, even though we live only a few blocks from one of the best, nationally-known barbecue restaurants. We planned on getting hash and sauce from Sconyers, but Don ordered and paid for our barbecue from church. It had to be picked up between 9 and 1. While Deanna and I were gone, Don and the boys worked on the oven, finally fixing it. We got to see some friends and socialized with a few folks from our church. Then, on the way home, we stopped at a fireworks stand. I knew they recently changed the laws for our state because I've seen fireworks being sold in stores like Wal-Mart, but I didn't know what was now allowed. I asked the gentleman at the stand (all older men, which relieved me. I would have been concerned if it was just young, pyromaniac hippies working there) who explained that Georgia now allows fireworks that stay on the ground, rather than being shot up into the air. He pointed out lots of different types to me that are all allowable under Georgia State law. Deanna and I began adding to our selection and keeping a running total. We decided to stop at $10.00 worth but had quite a few nice, legal firworks.
By the time we got home, the boys and their dad had already left for the festival. Deanna and I fed the dog and put the barbecue away, then ran across the street to the party! One whole area was set up with carnival-type games for which you could win tickets. The tickets could be cashed in for prizes like visors, funny masks, balls, boomerangs, and other assorted cheapie junk - the stuff all the kids LOVE. They had a duck pond, a bean bag toss tic-tac-toe game, pop the balloon with a dart, a treasure chest full of pennies and bird seed where you had to find as many pennies as possible in 30 seconds, and several other fun games. There were also two pinatas for different age groups. Another area hosted the water games. There were baby pools for very small children, a slip and slide, a cool sprinkler that was like a volcano that erupted water then blew it into a fine mist, and a big, inflatable 2-laned waterslide. There was also a dunking booth and a few of the men had signed up to work in 1/2 hour increments.
In addition to the inflatable waterslide, there was an inflatable moonwalk and this cool inflatable thing that involved bungy cords. Then, there was the snack area. There were free snocones, a popcorn machine with GREAT popcorn, as much cotton candy as any of us could eat, and a soda machine. This all went on from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. At 2, they started a tug-of-war through vanilla pudding. All-in-all, the festivities went until around 3. Then we came home for lunch and a cool-down break. At 6:00, we returned for dinner - bring your own meal and a dessert to share. Following dinner, we cleaned up and took down the tables, then the entertainment started. We had a talent show to end all talent shows. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if it had been longer or the weather was cooler.
Towards the end, Neil Diamond showed up!! (Or, at least, a pretty good impersonation of him.) One of the men donned sunglasses and performed to "Coming to America". He ended it with setting off a curtain of fireworks across the stage. It was wonderful.
We came home from the festival hot and tired. We had a chance to cool down before some of our invited friends came over to set off our fireworks. At 9, we moved out into the driveway and began setting off our small, legal firecrackers. The people two houses down on the other side of the street were setting off huge, high-in-the-sky ones, so we watched inbetween our own. By 10, we were finished and getting the children settled down for bed.
While all of us were in the kitchen and the children were taking their medicines before bed, Dane said he thought we should spend sometime praying and thanking the Lord for our freedom. My heart jumped a beat - in the busyness and excitement of the day, thanking the Lord was something we had missed. Deanna chimed in and asked if we could also thank the Lord for the wonderful day we had had. We moved into the living room as a family, snuggled on the loveseat, and thanked the Lord for the sacrifices that led to this wonderful day of freedom. Then we thanked him, one by one, for all the blessings of this day. I sat and listened to my children, pouring out thankfulness to the Lord, and silently thanked Him for them. I'm so thankful that they understand the part the Lord plays in their lives and want to show their appreciation to Him.
It was a wonderful day, in every sense. Thank you, Jesus, for all your many blessings.
Monday, July 03, 2006
The 4th.
Today, my mind continues to be drawn to the thought of the Fourth of July. I realize that this day is a holiday and special to all Americans. But it holds a particularly significant role in my life.
My parents were both Canadian citizens, with my father holding joint citizenship due to his birth having been in the U.S. My father joined the American Army at a young age, declaring his U.S. Citizenship, and my mother was Naturalized prior to my birth. Being an American has always been very important to them, especially since they left behind their country and culture for something different and, in their opinion, better on many levels. They felt that the U.S. offerred their children a better future and more opportunity for their futures, as well. But there were difficult times as their siblings and friends didn't understand their choice.
My father was a two-time Vietnam veteran. He put his life on the line for the cause of freedom in the world. He experienced many, many personal losses as the men assigned to him were killed in combat. Freedom held a personal cost for him, as for our family, as we waited for news of his life or death. Many times, we would hear about attacks in the area where Daddy was assigned on T.V. and hold our breaths while we waited to be contacted through Military channels with a report. Freedom was costly to all of us, and our country's freedom meant all the more.
I remember one year while living in Europe. On the 4th of July, we visited Waterloo. I ran up the steps of the Waterloo Lion, the monument built on the rubble left behind by the Battle of Watterloo, and stood at the top yelling, "Happy 4th of July". We were the only people there who were celebrating American's freedom. Mama had dressed us all in red, white, and blue, and we looked like an American flag when we stood together at the top of the Lion. I was filled with pride for our country and our accomplishments as I stood, looking out across a foreign land. We lived outside our country and couldn't wait for the day we returned "state-side", as Military families called it. People kept a count - they'd say, "We're down to triple digits" or "double digits", which was when the going-away parties began. When they got down to "single digits", it was time for goodbye's and tearful parting gifts. They were going HOME - the U.S., the country we all longed to see again.
As much as traveling and living in foreign countries was a wonderful experience, it was very difficult living nextdoor to people who spoke a different language, living in a different culture that we didn't quite understand, not being able to buy American foods, etc. We learned to truly appreciate all that it meant to be Americans.
I'm not saying that others don't have the same intense feelings of patriotism, just that my family does have them. Our country and its freedom is hugely important to us. We've paid a price for that freedom and to maintain it, and the cost makes it ever the more special to us.
As we celebrate the day our country declared itself free, we'll watch fireworks, eat barbecue, and remember the many lives that have been lost for the cause of freedom in this world, including those stolen from us by 9/11. Our military men and women are heroes in every sense of the word, and this is a day to celebrate heroism, regardless of your political views or your opinions about our current war.
I'll shed a few tears - I always do - as I think about how much has been lost for the gain of freedom. The intensity of my emotions about this day will be as strong as always. I just hope and pray that my children will grow up with the same intense love of our country, even though they've never lived outside of it and have never experienced personal loss due to war. I pray that they'll be choked up everytime the National Anthem is played and their hearts will soar along with our flag each and everytime they see it displayed.
I pray they'll be true Americans who love and respect all that this country stands for. I pray.
My parents were both Canadian citizens, with my father holding joint citizenship due to his birth having been in the U.S. My father joined the American Army at a young age, declaring his U.S. Citizenship, and my mother was Naturalized prior to my birth. Being an American has always been very important to them, especially since they left behind their country and culture for something different and, in their opinion, better on many levels. They felt that the U.S. offerred their children a better future and more opportunity for their futures, as well. But there were difficult times as their siblings and friends didn't understand their choice.
My father was a two-time Vietnam veteran. He put his life on the line for the cause of freedom in the world. He experienced many, many personal losses as the men assigned to him were killed in combat. Freedom held a personal cost for him, as for our family, as we waited for news of his life or death. Many times, we would hear about attacks in the area where Daddy was assigned on T.V. and hold our breaths while we waited to be contacted through Military channels with a report. Freedom was costly to all of us, and our country's freedom meant all the more.
I remember one year while living in Europe. On the 4th of July, we visited Waterloo. I ran up the steps of the Waterloo Lion, the monument built on the rubble left behind by the Battle of Watterloo, and stood at the top yelling, "Happy 4th of July". We were the only people there who were celebrating American's freedom. Mama had dressed us all in red, white, and blue, and we looked like an American flag when we stood together at the top of the Lion. I was filled with pride for our country and our accomplishments as I stood, looking out across a foreign land. We lived outside our country and couldn't wait for the day we returned "state-side", as Military families called it. People kept a count - they'd say, "We're down to triple digits" or "double digits", which was when the going-away parties began. When they got down to "single digits", it was time for goodbye's and tearful parting gifts. They were going HOME - the U.S., the country we all longed to see again.
As much as traveling and living in foreign countries was a wonderful experience, it was very difficult living nextdoor to people who spoke a different language, living in a different culture that we didn't quite understand, not being able to buy American foods, etc. We learned to truly appreciate all that it meant to be Americans.
I'm not saying that others don't have the same intense feelings of patriotism, just that my family does have them. Our country and its freedom is hugely important to us. We've paid a price for that freedom and to maintain it, and the cost makes it ever the more special to us.
As we celebrate the day our country declared itself free, we'll watch fireworks, eat barbecue, and remember the many lives that have been lost for the cause of freedom in this world, including those stolen from us by 9/11. Our military men and women are heroes in every sense of the word, and this is a day to celebrate heroism, regardless of your political views or your opinions about our current war.
I'll shed a few tears - I always do - as I think about how much has been lost for the gain of freedom. The intensity of my emotions about this day will be as strong as always. I just hope and pray that my children will grow up with the same intense love of our country, even though they've never lived outside of it and have never experienced personal loss due to war. I pray that they'll be choked up everytime the National Anthem is played and their hearts will soar along with our flag each and everytime they see it displayed.
I pray they'll be true Americans who love and respect all that this country stands for. I pray.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Grandma and Grandpa's
Last week, Deanna went up to visit Grandma and Grandpa (five houses up the street). She was taking full advantage of the summer. She disappeared right after lunch and, at dinnertime, I called to inquire as to whether or not my daughter would be coming home sometime. Grandpa laughed and asked who I was referring to. I explained that I was putting dinner on the table and she needed to come home.
"She's already eaten," he told me. "You don't think we'd let our baby starve, do you?"
Turns out, she and Grandma had been playing cards and were now watching a movie together.
Yesterday, after VBS and lunch, Dane asked permission to go to his grandparent's house. He took off mid-afternoon while I was getting Daelyn down for his nap. Again, at dinnertime, I called looking for my son.
"Oh, he couldn't possibly come home now," Grandpa told me. "He and Grandma are taking a break from a hot card game and they're only separated by 15 points." Turns out, taking a break meant that he and Grandma had played Crazy 8's and Uno, then launched into a roaring game of Hand and Foot (a significantly more difficult card game). They both reached 4,400 and some points when Dane went out on Grandma and caught her with a fistful of cards. Then they decided to take a dinner break (Grandma still has to feed Grandpa) and got involved in a movie over dinner. There was no way Grandma was letting Dane out of the house until she squarely beat him.
While on the phone with Grandpa, he mentioned that he hadn't seen Daelyn in three days and was wondering when his youngest grandson was coming to visit. I repeated that to Daelyn who immediately headed for the door.
"You can't go now!! We're just sitting down to the table."
"It's okay, Mom," he called over his shoulder just before the door slammed behind him. "Go ahead without me."
Deanna, Don and I sat down to a dinner of pancakes (our oven has gone on the blink and the lovely pork loin I've been marinading for 3 days had to go back in the fridge for another night). The table looked empty. I consoled myself with the fact that at least one child joined us for dinner. I fear this is a foreshadowing of the teen years.
"Mama, as soon as I finish eating, can I go up to Grandma's?"
Big sigh. "I suppose so, dear. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," I retorted.
A half an hour later, I looked for the puppy to feed him dinner. No dog anywhere to be found. By then, Daelyn had returned for dinner and said that Deanna had taken the dog with her. I grabbed the phone and dialed Grandma and Grandpa's number to be sure.
"It's not bad enough you've adopted my daughter last week and my son this week," I said as soon as Daddy answered, "now you've taken my dog, too?"
"Well, he wanted to be with the other children, honey," my Father responded.
Me, too. But at least they're still young enough that they WANT to be at Grandma and Grandpa's. What a wonderful season of life. And summer, to boot.
"She's already eaten," he told me. "You don't think we'd let our baby starve, do you?"
Turns out, she and Grandma had been playing cards and were now watching a movie together.
Yesterday, after VBS and lunch, Dane asked permission to go to his grandparent's house. He took off mid-afternoon while I was getting Daelyn down for his nap. Again, at dinnertime, I called looking for my son.
"Oh, he couldn't possibly come home now," Grandpa told me. "He and Grandma are taking a break from a hot card game and they're only separated by 15 points." Turns out, taking a break meant that he and Grandma had played Crazy 8's and Uno, then launched into a roaring game of Hand and Foot (a significantly more difficult card game). They both reached 4,400 and some points when Dane went out on Grandma and caught her with a fistful of cards. Then they decided to take a dinner break (Grandma still has to feed Grandpa) and got involved in a movie over dinner. There was no way Grandma was letting Dane out of the house until she squarely beat him.
While on the phone with Grandpa, he mentioned that he hadn't seen Daelyn in three days and was wondering when his youngest grandson was coming to visit. I repeated that to Daelyn who immediately headed for the door.
"You can't go now!! We're just sitting down to the table."
"It's okay, Mom," he called over his shoulder just before the door slammed behind him. "Go ahead without me."
Deanna, Don and I sat down to a dinner of pancakes (our oven has gone on the blink and the lovely pork loin I've been marinading for 3 days had to go back in the fridge for another night). The table looked empty. I consoled myself with the fact that at least one child joined us for dinner. I fear this is a foreshadowing of the teen years.
"Mama, as soon as I finish eating, can I go up to Grandma's?"
Big sigh. "I suppose so, dear. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," I retorted.
A half an hour later, I looked for the puppy to feed him dinner. No dog anywhere to be found. By then, Daelyn had returned for dinner and said that Deanna had taken the dog with her. I grabbed the phone and dialed Grandma and Grandpa's number to be sure.
"It's not bad enough you've adopted my daughter last week and my son this week," I said as soon as Daddy answered, "now you've taken my dog, too?"
"Well, he wanted to be with the other children, honey," my Father responded.
Me, too. But at least they're still young enough that they WANT to be at Grandma and Grandpa's. What a wonderful season of life. And summer, to boot.
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