An SMC Family Goes to Church

Twice each week.  Three times if you count choir practice.

Henry plays handbells

I've said it before, and I'll say it again--I love our church.  I am very fortunate to have found this place where everyone is extravagantly welcome.  My boys were baptized and later attended preschool here.   It's a joyful place to be and a very happy ending to a long story.

I was born into the Catholic church but did not find a home there.  When I was growing up, the children of divorced parents were an anathema to the Church, if not doctrinely, certainly in practice.  The Church's exclusion simply added to the separateness I felt growing up.  I made the sacrament of First Communion but not Confirmation.  I desperately wanted to go to Catholic school when I was in sixth grade but my mother said the priest told her no.  Decades later, I'm not sure I believe her but I did then and felt awful.  As an adult in my twenties, I inquired about being confirmed and was told I'd have to find a sponsor.  I knew no one in town, much less the parish.  So you see, "church" was a place other people belonged and I didn't.

Hurtful as these experiences were, in the long view I realize that they made me who I am today.  Given no other other option, I embarked on independent study.  Yes, it involved decades of church-hopping but it also involved a lot of reading and discernment.  For many years, more than I care to admit, I was Goldilocks trying on one denomination after another.  Too strict, too universal.  Too exclusive, too existential.  I'd read Statements of Belief, then attend services for several months.  Most of the time, no one--not a soul noticed me.  And that was okay especially if the church didn't feel like a good fit but sometimes it made me wonder why I even bothered worshiping in public.  Anne Lamott kept me company on my journey and other authors helped as well.

And now we've come full circle.  My sons attend a Catholic elementary school.  I pay twice as much as the parishoners and both boys are excluded from some rituals.  But when Sunday rolls around, they are included in all that is our small United Church of Christ community.  This past weekend, as I joined the communion procession,  I felt Henry's hands on my back allowing me to guide him up to the altar.  I've rarely felt so complete as I did in that moment.

This weekend we were gifted with an unseasonably warm and sunny Saturday so we headed straight outdoors for the largest nature preserve we could find. (Originally, Saturday was to be a stay-at-home-day after our busy, stressful and sleep-deprived week but how can you pass up 70 sunny degrees in late October?)

What's so special about this trail sign? Amid complaining that his feet hurt and he was too tired to keep going uphill, Liam stopped and looked at this sign.  I was about ten feet away but I could hear him, very seriously saying "bb....ah...gg, bahhgg, bahg!"

"Mom, the bog is this way.  What's a bog?"

I was so EXCITED!  Liam sounded out a word all by himself for no reason other than he wanted to know what it said.  This is reading.  Not phonics homework, not a school readiness inventory, not a sight word reader that counts toward a free pizza coupon.  Reading.  For the sake of knowledge.  So EXCITING.  (If I do say so myself!)

We kept walking and saw many creatures but not the red-tailed hawk we were looking for.  Nor did we have a bald eagle sighting.  Most of the fauna were crawling, hopping and slithering at our feet.  We had to be careful where we stepped.  In fact, we were still in the parking lot when we came across three caterpillars and a tiny snake.

                                          Woolly Bear caterpillar  (Pyrrharctia isabella, in case you're wondering)

baby snake in the parking lot

There was so much to see I could have stayed for hours, but the wind picked up and the boys were beginning to tire.  We finished our outing with a story and puzzle inside the large nature center.   I bet you can guess which Dr. Seuss book they have on their shelves!

Henry and I enjoyed the huge observation deck.  As for Liam, aside from the bathrooms, he was attracted to a large screen on the wall.  "What channels do they have, Mom?"  He was clearly disappointed when I said that it only showed a loop of still photographs taken at the preserve.  You can take the child out of the suburbs, but you can't take the suburbs out of the child. 

We returned home exhausted but also in a much better mood than we had been in all week.  Despite Liam's longing for cable tv, there's nothing like a day spent together under a big blue sky.

Mid Summer Madness

 

Summer means so many fun experiences that there's little time to write about them.  It also means spending 100% of my waking hours taking care of, watching over, cleaning up, laughing with, chasing after and driving around two very active boys.  These first few photos are from a wonderful lakefront festival that has been a Wisconsin tradition for decades.  In my opinion, other cities may imitate Summerfest but they never manage to duplicate it.

I thought the boys would be terrified to ride the SkyGlider
 but they thoroughly enjoyed it!  Three times!

We have been doing one big activity (that takes us out of town) each week and then staying closer to home the rest of the days.  Often, the boys will request to stay home. (Like yesterday when I offered to drive to a huge playground on a beautiful 75 degree day.)  They like to swing in the backyard, get snacks and popsicles from the kitchen, jump on the sofa and watch cartoons.  Go figure.  Thankfully we do have a few structured activities scheduled so I don't think we'll turn into couch potatoes anytime soon.

archery lessons

guided hikes at the nature preserve

Soccer game and Liam's first goal!

I continue to struggle with balance this summer--household chores/repairs, me time (or complete lack of it), healthy food, limited screen time and keeping to a reasonable budget.  Less structure (ie, no school days) means this elusive balance is even more difficult to achieve.  I know I need to live in the moment but then who is going to be responsible for keeping this family "ship" on course?  Not to mention, who is going to do the grocery shopping?

Well, I'll worry about that tomorrow--for now, we're off to a 4th of July parade and a day filled with hot dogs and ice cream.  How's that for living in the moment?

This 'n That

H and his Rubik's Cube

I'm determined to post something here at least once every week.  Yet instead of writing an update I spent most of this evening creating an awesome seventh grade social studies lesson on Blendspace.  No, seriously, I had to tear myself away or I'd still be at the computer creating slides at 2 am.  It really is a bit strange how much I love my job this year.

Henry has been in rare form this week, converting Fahrenheit temperatures to Celsius every chance he gets.  He also enjoys converting people's weights on Earth into their weights on different planets and moons. I told him that I weigh 125 lbs.  I thought that would be an easier factor for his calculations.  When it comes to helping her son, a mom's got to do what a mom's got to do!

We didn't do anything extraordinary for Mother's Day.  It was a normal Sunday with the one exception.  I got to eat lunch by myself!  It was so quiet that I turned on the television (did you know there are actually grown-ups on some of those channels?)  I caught the second half of this documentary about single moms.  I really wish I would have seen the entire program.  It seemed very affirming--and the images in the opening sequence are beautiful.

But as all moms (single or not) know, it was soon time to relinquish the most comfortable seat in the house and start some chores while Curious George entertained the children.   I thought it was called a 'sectional' because there's a section for each person.  Guess not.

A Wee Bit of Everything

This week was all over the place.  Or maybe we were all over the place....I'm not sure.  It started out okay, we were actually a few minutes ahead of schedule as the week began.  Then fifteen minutes after I dropped Liam off with his beloved sitter, she called to say she had to go to the hospital.  I turned the car around and picked up Liam just as he was finishing breakfast.  By that time it was too late to take Henry to school or to get a substitute for my first class.  I brought both boys to work.  Luckily, one of my colleagues hid them in her room because she didn't have any students at the beginning of the day.  We narrowly missed my principal as we exited the building an hour later (a substitute was secured by then).  He never, ever comes down to my wing of the building but as I left my classroom with the boys' jackets, I ran into him entering my neighbor's classroom.  Fortunately he did not notice that I was holding a Spiderman hat and a size 5T coat.  I retrieved my sons from their hiding place down the hall and we left for preschool.

By the time Henry and I dropped off Liam, there were only 90 minutes left in his school day.  After a quick trip to Target, we were back to pick him up.  The three of us went to lunch before returning home for the afternoon.  At 10 pm I got the call that I needed to take the next day off as well.  This time Henry went to school and Liam (who doesn't have class on Tues) stayed with me.  I hate missing work but it was a great opportunity for us to spend time together.  Now that he is 5, Liam is able to have his own library card.  We signed up and he checked out 29 items!

Speaking of books, Henry finished his first book report of the year.  In kindergarten he did some really fun book responses.  This one was fairly simplistic but I appreciate the lesson in discipline and homework responsibility.  He read the chapter book in one sitting and seemed to enjoy it.  I don't have him read a book because he needs to do a report; instead, I wait until I observe him reading a book that lends itself to the assignment.   Then I suggest completing the report that day.  I don't think he should pick up a book because he has to write something.  I believe he should pick up a book because he wants to enjoy the story.

In other news, the boys somehow convinced me to take them to the Build-a-Bear store on Saturday.  I don't know what happened.  One minute I was on Google getting directions and a Groupon to a children's museum and the next minute I was driving to the mall.  I did have two Build-a-Bear coupons and I asked both boys to contribute some money from their piggy banks.  For the most part, I don't expect them to spend their savings (or in Henry's case, allowance) on toys.  Still, once and a while, it's important that they part with their money in exchange for the next thing they just "gotta have".

They love this place and even I will admit, everything there is adorable. There's lots of stuff  for boys.  Liam chose Star Wars pajamas for his lamb's outfit.  Henry dressed his puppy in a Captain America suit and mask.  Oh, yes, this corporation saw me, and thousands of other parents, coming.  And they were ready for us.

Dressing the animals after printing birth certificates (and paying big bucks!)

And finally, here's another thing my children didn't eat.  Spaghetti cakes.  You make them in muffin tins and they are quick, adorable and healthy.  They have lots of protein thanks to the cheese and eggs as well as plenty of veggies thanks to the red sauce and grated carrots I managed to sneak in.  I had two and the dogs each had one.  We all thought they were delicious.  Except Henry and Liam.  They refused to do more than take a "no thank you bite".  Instead, they each had an apple, a glass of milk and an early bedtime.  I have the pickiest eaters on the planet!  UGH!

Weekend Re-Cap and thank goodness pictures are worth a thousand words...

   ...because I just don't have the energy to write that many tonight.  I have been determined to let whatever sinus/bronchial infection I've been fighting to run its course.  Well, this is Week 5 and I'm pretty sure it's done several laps without a finish line in sight.  I finally cried "uncle" and scheduled a half day out of the classroom tomorrow to go to the doctor.  I'm hoping for an instant cure as I'll have to rush across several towns to pick up Henry from school and then Liam from daycare after my appointment.  It's not like moms get a minute to lay down or anything.  Even with a fever.

Despite having no energy whatsoever this weekend, I managed to get a few things done.  Most notably, we picked up Henry's first pair of glasses.  He was so excited to see all the things he'd been missing.  It really is a significant prescription and I'm feeling bad that I waited this long.  Henry never complained or squinted but he did inch closer and closer to the television these past months.  The optician looked at his prescription and said, "He'll never want to take these off."  So far, she's been right.

On Saturday afternoon I brought out some craft supplies in order to tempt the boys away from their tablet and beloved apps. Before making a nice big mess, we wrote about our celery plant.  The science notebooks are coming along nicely.  Even Liam is eager to engage in this activity.  It's even more fun now that tiny leaves are starting to sprout from the middle.

Today while mostly confined to the sofa, I assembled the boys' Valentine treat bags.  Liam is giving away insect finger puppets and chocolates while Henry is handing out Kool-Aid and a Kool-Aid play dough recipe.  (There's also a candy treat in the bag.)

I'm still perfecting our get-out-the-door-without-Mommy-losing-it morning routine.  (Yes, I know we are well past the 100th day of school.)  Some days I have so many bags to carry to the car, I can't fit through the door to the garage unless I make two trips.  I came up with this plan:  a bag for all our bags.  So far it seems to make things a bit easier.  In reality, I know that the boys should carry their own backpacks to the car.  Next year they will.  For now I like knowing that everything is packed and placed in the car before we leave the driveway.  Plus, even when the boys do take their backpacks, I'm still left with a daycare bag, my lunch, my work tote and the swim duffel.  Another advantage for the bag of bags?  Only one trip back in the house when we arrive home at night.  That's especially important during this cold, cold winter.  I park the car and we throw everything in the huge tote which is easily lugged carried in to our minuscule cozy entryway where everyone can trip over unpack their things.

Speaking of traveling light (not), I'd better start making preparations for tomorrow.  Lunches, gym clothes, shoes, hats, healthy snack, blankies....oh my!

Our Own Winter Games

Construction of the snow slide was finished just in time

Indoor Events

Outdoor Venue

Le chocolat chaud apres la luge 

Bows in the Dark

To play:  Mommy hides ten shiny bows and then turns off the lights.  Little boys find as many bows as they can using only their headlamps.  Repeat every evening.

And finally, winter athletes need fuel.  Here's one of our favorite soups--I may use miniature tortellini next time but I love the way these giant pasta pillows resemble dumplings.

Chicken Tortellini Soup

1 Tbsp olive oil

7 c chicken broth

3 celery stalks, chopped

1 sliced carrot

12 oz tortellini

2 c shredded,cooked chicken

salt and pepper

In a large pot, heat oil to saute celery and carrot for 3 minutes.  Stir in broth (I use low sodium) and bring to a boil.  Add tortellini; cook until al dente (~5 min).  Stir in chicken and simmer until heated through.  

(Don't Open Until) Wordless Wednesday

Stopped in My Tracks

This morning found us traveling that well-worn road toward frustration and flaring tempers as we inched out the door.  Bad enough that it was Monday.  Bad enough that we had (none of us) spent the early morning tending to priorities rather than email (me) and Singing Monsters (them).  Bad enough that oatmeal and milk refused to stay in their containers and instead blessed the floor with sticky kisses.  No--the streets had to be coated with a slick layer of well-packed snow necessitating driving at speeds in the single digits.  My car has the traction of a butterfly, by the way; despite all those buttons and lights on the dashboard.

My last nerve headed south even before I slammed the driver's side door and realized I didn't have the car keys.  Upon returning from the house with the ignition key, I discovered that, even though he'd been in the backseat for seven minutes, Liam had still not buckled himself in.  I started the engine only to see the digital clock display the tragic news that we were leaving 8 minutes late on a day when weather conditions meant we should have been leaving 20 minutes early.

Of course I lost it.  I chose my words to have the most impact.  I know my boys hear wahwah  waah wawhwawh most of the time.  Let's face it--we're often late, can't afford take-out or living in a sticky mess where no one picks up their socks or underwear.  They've learned to tune out familiar rants.   So this morning, I picked my no fail, hear me roar speech.  I'm pretty sure my yelling loosened a large clump of snow from the garage roof as I backed out the driveway.

Henry began to cry, of course.  Liam joined in for a bit.  I had used a threat that had only been uttered once before and with similar results.  Sure I felt bad that they felt bad.  But feeling bad was the point, right?  We were late; I was upset and didn't want to be the only one feeling that way.  So good.  They should be crying.  

By the time we had driven 100 feet, I was feeling better.  This will teach them not to diddle daddle.  I showed them.  Showed them good, until...

                      {sob}
                                            Mama, I forgive you

                     {sob, sob, sob}
                            Mama {sniffle} I forgive you {sob, sniffle, sob} 

                              I forgive you, Mama...

Well now-- who has to pull over, turn around and hold this little boy's hand, look him in those soft brown eyes and tell him that everything is okay?  And who needs to be on time for school when with a teacher like that in the backseat?

Henry, if you promise me that you'll never change, I'll promise you that I will.

Mommy, I don't feel like a kid anymore

Henry uttered those lines a few weeks ago while in the car riding home from school.  I was taken aback and instantly transported to the end of my childhood at age 8.  I was forced to become an instant adult; was something causing my son to feel the same way at age six?  I asked a few questions and received only the vaguest of answers.  It was unclear if Henry couldn't articulate what he was feeling or if he had lost interest in the topic or if it was just a vague feeling with nothing behind it.  I decided not to push the subject but hoped he would open up to me later if there was more to say.  For the time being, we decided to laugh about it.  I asked him if he felt like a teenager and he answered, "not exactly".  I said, "Well then, maybe you are a 'keenager', a kid who is too young to be a teenager."  He thought this was a hilarious word!   Keenager.

Fast forward to this week and his really bad attitude. Henry has been sassy and downright disrespectful.  He gets angry easily and lashes out physically at his brother and me.  I've been setting limits right and left.  He's had at least one time out each day but still the behaviors continue.  I've tried a calm approach--asking if something or someone at school is bothering him.  He actually made up a story about a boy on the playground.  (I'm 99% sure it's made up; moms have good instincts and when coupled with teacher instincts, we can sniff out a fib from ten feet away.)

One night, after he bit his brother and then punched me (punched me!), I sent him to bed with no dinner and still wearing his school clothes.  He came downstairs once while I was reading Liam a bedtime story, but I didn't acknowledge him.  That was difficult.  The entire evening was difficult as I wondered what could be going  on to change my mild-mannered, loving child so drastically.

The next morning I checked my email and he switched on the television (yes, bad habits for both of us at 6 am--I know--let's tackle one problem at a time, shall we?)  Henry walked over to me and said quietly, "Hey Mama, wanna take a break and watch Martha Speaks with me?"  My fingers froze on the keyboard.  I never watch television in the morning.  In fact, after assuring myself that there are no urgent messages, I turn off the computer and multitask up a storm until we're ready to leave the house.  I'm pretty sure that if I was filmed getting us ready in the morning, all you would see is a blur of movement flashing in and out of the frame.

I mentally repeated what Henry had asked and compared it to his behavior the night before.  Hey Mama, wanna take a break and watch Martha Speaks with me?  A dozen words that spoke volumes.  I've made a lot of child-rearing mistakes but this time the better angels of my nature picked me up by the scruff of my pajamas and plopped me down on the sofa right next to my keenager.  And there I sat for an entire half hour of prime get-ready-for-school time.  I watched my boy watch the show.  He knew I was watching him but didn't say a word and didn't move towards my lap.  Once or twice, I glanced at the clock but deep down I knew that sitting beside my boy was a much better use of my morning.

When the show was over, the spell was broken ever so slightly.  We both returned to reality, albeit a calmer one.  Since then, we've had a few more incidents and meltdowns.  Something is up and I don't know how to make my boy all better.  He'll be seven at the end of February.  It's much too soon to lose him to the grown up world of anger and pain.

I don't really want him to be a keenager.  I want him to be a little boy.  My little boy.  And I want to sit next to him and watch Martha Speaks for a long, long time.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave...

...when we call in sick just to play among the leaves...

Actually, it was Liam's sitter who called in sick, leaving me no choice but to take the day off.  I had been wondering how we'd ever get to the apple orchard--what with soccer, errands and birthday parties crowding our weekends this fall.  An unexpected day together in the middle of the week was the answer.

We love this place--it has a little bit of everything

Liam could have, would have, done this all day if I let him

pouting a bit because he had to leave the pedal carts
 to ride the wagon to the orchard

Poor Liam, he prefers his mazes on paper

"...have some corn--I know where there's lots more!"