In case you don't live in Central Illinois like I do, we've been having some cold weather here. Two days of school were canceled this week because the actual temperature got down to -15 degrees. The wind chill got down to -34 degrees (from the reports I read).
We've also had a fair amount of snow. It was all fine since we spent several days cozy at home. But we had to get out in the cold white world today since the boys had to get back to school and Nora had TLC.
Even though I drive a Mercury Mountaineer (a big SUV), I was sliding all over the roads. I gripped the steering wheel very tightly and prayed constantly. My anti-lock breaks kicked in at every single stop.
I managed (clearly with God's help!) to get all the kids dropped off. Then I had a hair appointment (my stylist is my sisters, so it doubles as quality time). I got some groceries, headed home to drop them off, and headed back to TLC to pick up Nora. I had managed to figure out how to drive safely (ish), so I was more careful than nervous at that point.
I came to a 3-way stop. My street T'ed up with another street, and I needed to turn left. There was a car at each stop sign, so I patiently waited while each of them went and then it was my turn. I noticed a car approaching from my right, but I knew that car would stop at the stop sign.
Right when I was in the middle of the intersection, I happened to see that car from the right barreling toward me. I slammed on my breaks (not a good move on snow) and my car actually came to a stop at the same time the other car came to a stop. We were sorta side-by-side but with our front fenders nearly touching.
I looked at the woman driving the other car, pointed two car lengths behind her at the stop sign, and raised my eyebrows in the patented Mom scolding face. I said (in my mom voice), "You had a stop sign." (Nora said, "Mom, she can't hear you.")
She shrugged with her hands up near her shoulders and said, "I'm sorry."
She drove away in front of me and I followed behind with a healthy distance between us until I turned to get to my neighborhood. I was SO thankful that God kept us from colliding. It was literally a miracle that I was able to stop before hitting her when I hadn't been able to stop in vacant intersections earlier in the day. Instead of exchanging insurance information and filing paperwork and finding time to get my car fixed, I got to just drive away and get home for Nora's nap time.
Whew!
Another noteworthy event from my day came after school. This was the boys' first day back at school after 2 1/2 weeks off. They were in good spirits as they had an after-school snack. As usual, they told me random tidbits about their day at school (which I love).
Griffin was enjoying methodically eating his Nutty Bar (I mean--he totally chose a healthy snack rather than the dessert leftover from his lunch...) when he spoke up. This time he didn't have a story from his day to tell me; he had a question:
"Mom, what are weed brownies?"
Seriously. I couldn't crack a smile or show how furious I was that he had even heard of weed brownies. I made my face and tone of voice neutral and asked where he had heard that. Turns out it came from a video about his current favorite video game (Super Mario 64). We've been letting him watch videos of how to beat a certain level or get a certain power or whatever. We are extremely careful about what videos he watches. Apparently not careful enough.
I started by telling him that he's not allowed to watch that video anymore. Then I explained to him what weed brownies are because I figure a quick, factual response ("brownies with drugs in them) was better than shrugging him off. Plus I remember how my grandma would answer any question we ever asked her, and it's something I mentally filed away under Things I'll Do When I'm A Parent.
Just another day in the life. But I'd be happy to not drive again until the roads are clearer and not explain any more drugs to my kids.
Jessica
Ramblings about life, crafts, and leaving well-enough alone
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Ouch
I've done a fair bit of damage to my body this weekend.
Today I did a brutal P90X workout, and now it feels as if each of my limbs weighs 300 lbs. whenever I attempt to move. I seriously consider if it's worth it just to get up and use the bathroom. Today my muscles are just fatigued. Tomorrow they're going to actually hurt. School has already been cancelled for tomorrow due to plummeting temperatures and piling snow, and my kids are going to have to entertain themselves and take care of themselves since I won't be able to function.
The workout was necessary because I gained a science-defying amount of weight this Christmas season. Why is it so easy to put on and so painful to take off?? Plus Jared is trying to convince me to go on some tropical getaway this summer to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. The threat of a swimsuit is enough to make me bump up my exercise.
The other damaging thing I did was that yesterday I chewed all the skin off from inside my lips and inside my cheeks. It's a nervous habit.
Yesterday Griffin started a basketball program for kindergarteners (Union Mission, for you locals).
We actually attempted this same program (for preschoolers) two years ago. The kids joined the head coach and teenage helpers down on the gym floor while the eager parents and grandparents sat in the upper deck and looked down over their little darlings.
This was the exact setting in which I realized that my child was different than the children around him. As I looked down and watched Griffin flapping his hands and refusing to follow the coach's directions, I felt the sympathetic glances from the other parents. Griffin clearly looked like a child who was "not normal." Everyone around me knew it, and I fully realized it for the first time.
We were determined (perhaps foolishly) to finish the season, and it became a source of severe stress every week. For all involved. We had paid a lot of money, and I hadn't yet learned that sometimes you can quit things if it's in your child's best interest.
That basketball experience was the final straw that made us take Griffin to Easter Seals for testing.
After his diagnosis and life that followed, we came to the conclusion that Griffin just may not be cut out for team sports. To be completely honest, I've never actually accepted this conclusion. We haven't attempted any team sports since that AWFUL basketball experience, but Griffin told us that he wanted to try basketball this winter after his brother started playing. We double and triple checked with him. And then asked again just to be sure.
So with butterflies in my stomach, I gave Griffin my cheeriest pep talk and reminded him of rewards that awaited him if he just complied with the coaches' instructions.
It started out well. I set up camp in the upper seating area with Nolan and Nora as well as my dad and Jared's dad (I love having The Grandpas at the kids' activities!). Jared walked Griffin down to join the other kids who were just shooting around. Jared didn't return right away, and I was afraid Griffin was already breaking down over the separation, but then I spotted Griffin timidly carrying a blue basketball toward an open hoop.
Victory!
He shot around for awhile, and then we hit our first little bump when his ball rolled away from him to the other side of the gym. He just froze. He didn't run after it. I'm not sure why, but he just stood there. Eventually, thankfully, one of the teen helpers retrieved the ball and gave it back to him. Whew!
When the head coach got the practice officially started, I got nervous about how Griffin would do switching from an activity where he was in control (shooting around at his own pace) to an activity where he had to do everything the coach said.
First was an intro: fine. Then came warm ups: fine. Then the kids were given basketballs and I held my breath to see how Griffin would react to getting a yellow ball instead of a blue one (blue is his favorite color). Yes, you may be silently judging me for having a child that might melt down over the color of basketball that he gets. He's a work in progress. I just didn't want any tiny detail to derail his otherwise successful time at basketball. And he did just fine with the yellow ball.
You may have guessed that there was trouble at some point, and that's about where we are in this story. After an explanation of how to dribble with your fingerprints and where to put your other hand and how to stand, the coach wanted the kids to practice dribbling. Griffin melted. His face crumpled and he began silently crying.
A teenage girl helper noticed him crying and tried to comfort him. Jared quickly headed down to intervene. Jared and Griffin ended up sitting on the sidelines for 5-10 minutes. Griffin got a drink and Jared tried to talk to him. Apparently, Griffin said he doesn't know how to dribble. He didn't want everyone watching him since he wasn't confident in what he was doing.
Eventually Griffin rejoined the kids and Jared rejoined us in the upper deck (as I fidgeted, nibbled, twisted, and clenched). Griffin didn't cry, but he didn't exactly participate. That same teenage girl stayed by his side and tried to get him to do the drills the other kids were doing. It was rough until they switched to some shooting drills.
Griffin is actually pretty good at shooting. When he sank his first shot, his helper tried to get him to give her a high-five. He refused, which is odd since giving super duper hard high-fives or weird high-fives (like using his head instead of his hand) is one of his favorite things. She stuck by him though. His team won every single scoring competition.
I'm sure that we would have had to bail early and take Griffin home if that blessed teenage girl hadn't been so willing to stick with him and keep working on him. I told my dad I wanted to find that girl afterward and mouth kiss her.
Don't worry; I didn't assault the poor girl. I actually didn't even get to talk to her afterward to thank her, so that's a priority for next week.
So basketball wasn't a smashing success or a wretched train wreck. We had some victories: good drop off, some participation, and Griffin plugged back in eventually after melting down. We also had some frustrations: the meltdown and refusal to fully participate.
We'll go back next Saturday and see how he does. Hopefully my mouth heals before then.
Jessica
Today I did a brutal P90X workout, and now it feels as if each of my limbs weighs 300 lbs. whenever I attempt to move. I seriously consider if it's worth it just to get up and use the bathroom. Today my muscles are just fatigued. Tomorrow they're going to actually hurt. School has already been cancelled for tomorrow due to plummeting temperatures and piling snow, and my kids are going to have to entertain themselves and take care of themselves since I won't be able to function.
The workout was necessary because I gained a science-defying amount of weight this Christmas season. Why is it so easy to put on and so painful to take off?? Plus Jared is trying to convince me to go on some tropical getaway this summer to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. The threat of a swimsuit is enough to make me bump up my exercise.
The other damaging thing I did was that yesterday I chewed all the skin off from inside my lips and inside my cheeks. It's a nervous habit.
Yesterday Griffin started a basketball program for kindergarteners (Union Mission, for you locals).
We actually attempted this same program (for preschoolers) two years ago. The kids joined the head coach and teenage helpers down on the gym floor while the eager parents and grandparents sat in the upper deck and looked down over their little darlings.
This was the exact setting in which I realized that my child was different than the children around him. As I looked down and watched Griffin flapping his hands and refusing to follow the coach's directions, I felt the sympathetic glances from the other parents. Griffin clearly looked like a child who was "not normal." Everyone around me knew it, and I fully realized it for the first time.
We were determined (perhaps foolishly) to finish the season, and it became a source of severe stress every week. For all involved. We had paid a lot of money, and I hadn't yet learned that sometimes you can quit things if it's in your child's best interest.
That basketball experience was the final straw that made us take Griffin to Easter Seals for testing.
After his diagnosis and life that followed, we came to the conclusion that Griffin just may not be cut out for team sports. To be completely honest, I've never actually accepted this conclusion. We haven't attempted any team sports since that AWFUL basketball experience, but Griffin told us that he wanted to try basketball this winter after his brother started playing. We double and triple checked with him. And then asked again just to be sure.
So with butterflies in my stomach, I gave Griffin my cheeriest pep talk and reminded him of rewards that awaited him if he just complied with the coaches' instructions.
It started out well. I set up camp in the upper seating area with Nolan and Nora as well as my dad and Jared's dad (I love having The Grandpas at the kids' activities!). Jared walked Griffin down to join the other kids who were just shooting around. Jared didn't return right away, and I was afraid Griffin was already breaking down over the separation, but then I spotted Griffin timidly carrying a blue basketball toward an open hoop.
Victory!
He shot around for awhile, and then we hit our first little bump when his ball rolled away from him to the other side of the gym. He just froze. He didn't run after it. I'm not sure why, but he just stood there. Eventually, thankfully, one of the teen helpers retrieved the ball and gave it back to him. Whew!
When the head coach got the practice officially started, I got nervous about how Griffin would do switching from an activity where he was in control (shooting around at his own pace) to an activity where he had to do everything the coach said.
First was an intro: fine. Then came warm ups: fine. Then the kids were given basketballs and I held my breath to see how Griffin would react to getting a yellow ball instead of a blue one (blue is his favorite color). Yes, you may be silently judging me for having a child that might melt down over the color of basketball that he gets. He's a work in progress. I just didn't want any tiny detail to derail his otherwise successful time at basketball. And he did just fine with the yellow ball.
You may have guessed that there was trouble at some point, and that's about where we are in this story. After an explanation of how to dribble with your fingerprints and where to put your other hand and how to stand, the coach wanted the kids to practice dribbling. Griffin melted. His face crumpled and he began silently crying.
A teenage girl helper noticed him crying and tried to comfort him. Jared quickly headed down to intervene. Jared and Griffin ended up sitting on the sidelines for 5-10 minutes. Griffin got a drink and Jared tried to talk to him. Apparently, Griffin said he doesn't know how to dribble. He didn't want everyone watching him since he wasn't confident in what he was doing.
Eventually Griffin rejoined the kids and Jared rejoined us in the upper deck (as I fidgeted, nibbled, twisted, and clenched). Griffin didn't cry, but he didn't exactly participate. That same teenage girl stayed by his side and tried to get him to do the drills the other kids were doing. It was rough until they switched to some shooting drills.
Griffin is actually pretty good at shooting. When he sank his first shot, his helper tried to get him to give her a high-five. He refused, which is odd since giving super duper hard high-fives or weird high-fives (like using his head instead of his hand) is one of his favorite things. She stuck by him though. His team won every single scoring competition.
I'm sure that we would have had to bail early and take Griffin home if that blessed teenage girl hadn't been so willing to stick with him and keep working on him. I told my dad I wanted to find that girl afterward and mouth kiss her.
Don't worry; I didn't assault the poor girl. I actually didn't even get to talk to her afterward to thank her, so that's a priority for next week.
So basketball wasn't a smashing success or a wretched train wreck. We had some victories: good drop off, some participation, and Griffin plugged back in eventually after melting down. We also had some frustrations: the meltdown and refusal to fully participate.
We'll go back next Saturday and see how he does. Hopefully my mouth heals before then.
Jessica
Thursday, January 2, 2014
My Voice
My husband works for a company that gives all of its employees time off of work from Christmas Eve through New Year's Day. Jared is always so excited to have this vacation. I don't have time to get excited because I'm busy doing December for my entire family.
Last year we decided to selfishly keep Christmas Day as a sacred day for the five of us to stay home and pretend there's not a world outside our house. It was glorious. This year we continued that tradition. All of a sudden, I remembered that I eventually get to participate in Christmas Vacation (after Christmas Eve, before Nora's birthday on the 27th, and then again after her party before Jared returns to work).
I completed a 500-piece puzzle and a 1,000-piece puzzle, both Christmas gifts from Jared. I read the second and third books from The Hunger Games series. I loved them and realized that seeing the movie of The Hunger Games is surely not sufficient, and I should probably go back and read the first book. My nephew recommended the book Divergent, so I read it as well as the second book in that trilogy. I've placed a hold on the third and final book in that series (I rent ebooks from the library on my Kindle), but I'm 47th in line. It may be a while.
I thought I might have time for one last book-for-pleasure before Vacation ends and I have to go back to reality. Back to full-time parent. Back to schedule-keeper, referee, and chauffeur who only gets to read in the car parked at the boys' school waiting for the bell. And that reading time is reserved for my Sunday School lesson or my Bible study homework.
I perused several lists of top-selling books of 2013 and most recommended books of the year. I found one of those popular books available for borrowing on my kindle: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. I finished all 415 pages yesterday, the last day of Vacation.
Reading for pleasure reminds me how much I want to write. Since I only read for pleasure during Christmas Vacation and sometimes over the summer, I seem to forget about this effect until it unexpectedly sweeps over me. Then it's been so long since I've thought about writing--really writing--that I feel rusty and useless, like a once-famous ballerina who now sits Alzheimer's-ridden in a nursing home and has a flash of clarity remembering the thrill of being onstage.
I've never found my voice as a writer.
I can write a craft tutorial and pretend I'm not annoyed that I have to spend time editing my pictures in Photoshop so they look like I took them in the right lighting (I never take them in the right lighting). Then the pictures have to be resized so they don't take up all of my free photo storage for my blog. Then I have to write the instructions and pretend not to be crushed by the fact that there are already hundreds of tutorials just like mine. But I like showing what I've made and telling how I've made it just in case someone somewhere might someday like to make it, too. So my voice is partly The Tutorial Girl.
I enjoy sharing my recipes because, as I've already stated for the record, food is my official love language. I like to feed people. And if you're too far away for me to feed, maybe I can at least help you feed/love someone near you. So my voice includes The Accessible Chef.
I'm also The Striving Christian, The Purposeful Mom, and--of course--The Perfectionist.
If all of these components were a complete representation of my voice as a writer, then I would feel more satisfied. Less dutiful. Less stuck in the shoulds. I should blog more often. I should write about Nora's birthday party, even if it's just a factual report of what I viewed to be a non-noteworthy but comfortingly low-key party. I should keep my writing light and informative. I should be Blog Jessica.
In the last week I've read five books by three authors. Suzanne Collins, author of The Hunger Games series, kept her books action-packed with enough descriptions to keep me hooked. Veronica Roth, author of the Divergent series, kept up the action but lost me in some of her descriptions. I never could accurately picture any of the faction headquarters. It was like when Jared gives me driving directions, and somewhere after the third turn I give him a faint smile and say, "You already lost me, Babe." I learned not to get caught trying to follow Roth's descriptions so I could continue following the action. Gillian Flynn, author of Gone Girl, focused almost solely on descriptions. I enjoyed some of her writing (describing the main character's childhood toys, including a Strawberry Shortcake doll now void of its scent), but I often found myself frustrated by the lack of forward motion in the plot line. I stuck it out to the end of the book, determined to finish, which turned out to be a foolish mistake.
As I read each book, I assessed how I felt about each author's writing style. I measured what parts of their voices I liked and disliked. Leave it to me to think I can only find My Voice by first hearing the voices of all published authors, thinking I should be a compilation of all the "good" parts of everyone else.
Once again, I'm basing who I should be on who everyone else is.
I do it every time I blog. I start with an idea of what I want to write. Then my words go through a series of filters, one filter for each person I presume will be reading: family members, friends, strangers. What's left is usually about 18% me and 82% the me I think will be most acceptable to everyone else. Not exactly My Voice.
I don't write about anything dark or twisty. I once told Jared that the most interesting parts of my story will likely remain unwritten. Not because I don't want to tell my stories, but because my stories overlap with other people's stories, and those other people haven't chosen to share our intersecting stories with the world. I'm sure my friends and family members could write a thing or two about me. And I don't even want to think about what kind of writing material I've already given my kids, and we still have years of mistakes to make. With these thoughts in mind, I try to be respectful of the other people in my stories.
So here I am without a clue how to proceed. I feel like Nora and her newfound love of ballet. She's delighted to practice and loves to look the part, but she's utterly unpolished and basically making it up as she goes.
Add it to the list of components of My Voice: The Preschool Ballerina.
Jessica
Last year we decided to selfishly keep Christmas Day as a sacred day for the five of us to stay home and pretend there's not a world outside our house. It was glorious. This year we continued that tradition. All of a sudden, I remembered that I eventually get to participate in Christmas Vacation (after Christmas Eve, before Nora's birthday on the 27th, and then again after her party before Jared returns to work).
I completed a 500-piece puzzle and a 1,000-piece puzzle, both Christmas gifts from Jared. I read the second and third books from The Hunger Games series. I loved them and realized that seeing the movie of The Hunger Games is surely not sufficient, and I should probably go back and read the first book. My nephew recommended the book Divergent, so I read it as well as the second book in that trilogy. I've placed a hold on the third and final book in that series (I rent ebooks from the library on my Kindle), but I'm 47th in line. It may be a while.
I thought I might have time for one last book-for-pleasure before Vacation ends and I have to go back to reality. Back to full-time parent. Back to schedule-keeper, referee, and chauffeur who only gets to read in the car parked at the boys' school waiting for the bell. And that reading time is reserved for my Sunday School lesson or my Bible study homework.
I perused several lists of top-selling books of 2013 and most recommended books of the year. I found one of those popular books available for borrowing on my kindle: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. I finished all 415 pages yesterday, the last day of Vacation.
Reading for pleasure reminds me how much I want to write. Since I only read for pleasure during Christmas Vacation and sometimes over the summer, I seem to forget about this effect until it unexpectedly sweeps over me. Then it's been so long since I've thought about writing--really writing--that I feel rusty and useless, like a once-famous ballerina who now sits Alzheimer's-ridden in a nursing home and has a flash of clarity remembering the thrill of being onstage.
I've never found my voice as a writer.
I can write a craft tutorial and pretend I'm not annoyed that I have to spend time editing my pictures in Photoshop so they look like I took them in the right lighting (I never take them in the right lighting). Then the pictures have to be resized so they don't take up all of my free photo storage for my blog. Then I have to write the instructions and pretend not to be crushed by the fact that there are already hundreds of tutorials just like mine. But I like showing what I've made and telling how I've made it just in case someone somewhere might someday like to make it, too. So my voice is partly The Tutorial Girl.
I enjoy sharing my recipes because, as I've already stated for the record, food is my official love language. I like to feed people. And if you're too far away for me to feed, maybe I can at least help you feed/love someone near you. So my voice includes The Accessible Chef.
I'm also The Striving Christian, The Purposeful Mom, and--of course--The Perfectionist.
If all of these components were a complete representation of my voice as a writer, then I would feel more satisfied. Less dutiful. Less stuck in the shoulds. I should blog more often. I should write about Nora's birthday party, even if it's just a factual report of what I viewed to be a non-noteworthy but comfortingly low-key party. I should keep my writing light and informative. I should be Blog Jessica.
In the last week I've read five books by three authors. Suzanne Collins, author of The Hunger Games series, kept her books action-packed with enough descriptions to keep me hooked. Veronica Roth, author of the Divergent series, kept up the action but lost me in some of her descriptions. I never could accurately picture any of the faction headquarters. It was like when Jared gives me driving directions, and somewhere after the third turn I give him a faint smile and say, "You already lost me, Babe." I learned not to get caught trying to follow Roth's descriptions so I could continue following the action. Gillian Flynn, author of Gone Girl, focused almost solely on descriptions. I enjoyed some of her writing (describing the main character's childhood toys, including a Strawberry Shortcake doll now void of its scent), but I often found myself frustrated by the lack of forward motion in the plot line. I stuck it out to the end of the book, determined to finish, which turned out to be a foolish mistake.
As I read each book, I assessed how I felt about each author's writing style. I measured what parts of their voices I liked and disliked. Leave it to me to think I can only find My Voice by first hearing the voices of all published authors, thinking I should be a compilation of all the "good" parts of everyone else.
Once again, I'm basing who I should be on who everyone else is.
I do it every time I blog. I start with an idea of what I want to write. Then my words go through a series of filters, one filter for each person I presume will be reading: family members, friends, strangers. What's left is usually about 18% me and 82% the me I think will be most acceptable to everyone else. Not exactly My Voice.
I don't write about anything dark or twisty. I once told Jared that the most interesting parts of my story will likely remain unwritten. Not because I don't want to tell my stories, but because my stories overlap with other people's stories, and those other people haven't chosen to share our intersecting stories with the world. I'm sure my friends and family members could write a thing or two about me. And I don't even want to think about what kind of writing material I've already given my kids, and we still have years of mistakes to make. With these thoughts in mind, I try to be respectful of the other people in my stories.
So here I am without a clue how to proceed. I feel like Nora and her newfound love of ballet. She's delighted to practice and loves to look the part, but she's utterly unpolished and basically making it up as she goes.
Add it to the list of components of My Voice: The Preschool Ballerina.
Jessica
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Random Tidbits From A Housewife
I doubt you would be interested in being fully filled in on my life these days, but here are just a few random happenings and thoughts from my world.
My one and only daughter had her first ever dance recital this week. That was an amazing event for us! It was just a short, low-key production with a Christmas theme, but it made my heart explode nonetheless.
There was no photography or videography allowed at the actual show, so I took pictures of Nora before we left the house and then again when we got home. My sister and niece brought Nora flowers, which was fantastic.
Nora's favorite thing about the evening was that she got to wear makeup. I put a tiny bit of pink eye shadow on her and let her wear my pink lipgloss. She was marvelous. The day leading up to the recital was pretty much the longest day of Nora's life, and she kept telling me that she just couldn't wait any longer.
In addition to Nora's recital being one of the cutest things I've ever seen, it was also our last kid performance of the season. Now we can move on to family gatherings and friends' parties.
* * *
I've been listening to a lot of Christmas music, as you know, and I have a few questions:
Yesterday morning during my kid-free time, I decided to treat myself to a warm delicious mocha from McDonald's. I was in such a good mood that I wanted to pay for the car behind me. I cheerily asked the McDonald's employee at the window what the total was for the car behind me. It was a whole whopping $1.10. So my good deed turned out to be a teeny tiny gesture. Oh well.
I drove away happily knowing that I at least tried to do something nice. I took a tentative sip of my mocha, smiled warmly, and then took another drink that completely scalded my entire tongue. Happens every time.
* * *
On Monday during school, Nolan discovered that he could connect paperclips together to make a long chain. He used his newly discovered technique to make a necklace for a classmate. That night he wanted to show me what he could do, so I offered him my bin of colorful paperclips that I've been working on using since college.
He made a necklace for his teacher out of pink and blue paperclips because those are her two favorite colors. He also made a bracelet for one of his friends.
Then next day when he came out of school, he was clutching a handful of yellow Post-It notes. Each one was an order from a classmate for what type of jewelry they wanted and which colors they preferred. Nolan skipped his after-school snack and got right to work filling his new jewelry orders.
Griffin got in on the jewelry-making as well. He made a necklace for his teacher as well as a couple necklaces and bracelets for some classmates. Each boy was thoughtful about what colors each recipient would like best. They put each finished piece in a clear zip-top bag and labeled it with the recipient's name. The whole thing was so stinking cute. I even got a necklace, ring, and two bracelets.
They used up all of our paperclips and still brought home more orders. So yesterday during my errand time, I went to Staples and bought more colorful paperclips. I surprised them when they came home from school, and it may as well have been a Christmas present. Now they are determined to completely accessorize all their classmates by the end of the week.
* * *
I finished the teacher gifts for the boys as well as for Nora's Wednesday morning TLC teacher gifts. They're nothing spectacular this year. In fact, I feel like none of my Christmas gifts are spectacular this year.
I made two big batches of a caramel-coated snack mix that includes Crispix cereal, pretzel sticks, pecans, and popcorn. I bought cute tins from Walmart and filled them with the snack mix. I also made the Mentos snowmen that I've made in years past (you can use an old idea for new teachers, right?).
The gifts themselves may not be anything new or amazing, but I did spend time writing a personal card to each teacher to tell them how much they all mean to our family.
* * *
I also went to the library yesterday during my adult time. I've been wanting to read a book for pleasure lately, and I thought it would be best to enter the silent library without children.
I love the library. All those books. The solitude. The idea that I'm completely surrounded by thoughts and words of brilliant minds.
I'm also intimidated by the library. I don't know how it works. I spotted an area of computers. Surely that's where I would need to go to search for a book. But the computers were numbered, which suggested that maybe you have to sign up to use a specific computer? Most of the people on the computers were using them to browse the internet, not to look up books. How do I look up a book? I also didn't know what book I wanted.
A couple weeks ago, Jared made me watch the moving The Hunger Games. I didn't sleep for two days after that. The whole premise of the movie creeped me out to my very core.
However...I found out that the movie is based on a book. And not just one book. There are three books in the series. So, maybe I could put my mind to rest if I read the other two books and completed the full story.
So I decided to look for the next book in the series. But I still didn't know how to search for a book on the computers or how I was supposed to get permission to use a computer. So I sat on a comfy chair, pulled out my phone, and Googled the author of The Hunger Games.
Collins, Suzanne. I located the Fiction section in the library and found the "C" section in alphabetical order (C for Collins). But the books weren't there. Then I had an idea. I vaguely remembered that the books were intended for tweens. Which might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard since they're about people purposely killing each other for sport. But that's a different rant.
So I located the Young Adult section of the library. A...B...C! Collins! I found it! I snagged the last copy of Catching Fire, the second book in the series. Maybe I should be embarrassed that the only book I've read for pleasure in many, many months is from the Young Adult Section. I don't care. I sent Jared a text and picture to prove that I made it out of the library with a book.
I managed to read 234 pages of the book yesterday. And yes, I still helped the boys with homework, made dinner for my family, and completed most of my regular chores.
I suppose that's enough of my ramblings for now. I hope you're all having a great week!
Jessica
My one and only daughter had her first ever dance recital this week. That was an amazing event for us! It was just a short, low-key production with a Christmas theme, but it made my heart explode nonetheless.
There was no photography or videography allowed at the actual show, so I took pictures of Nora before we left the house and then again when we got home. My sister and niece brought Nora flowers, which was fantastic.
Nora's favorite thing about the evening was that she got to wear makeup. I put a tiny bit of pink eye shadow on her and let her wear my pink lipgloss. She was marvelous. The day leading up to the recital was pretty much the longest day of Nora's life, and she kept telling me that she just couldn't wait any longer.
In addition to Nora's recital being one of the cutest things I've ever seen, it was also our last kid performance of the season. Now we can move on to family gatherings and friends' parties.
* * *
I've been listening to a lot of Christmas music, as you know, and I have a few questions:
- What exactly is Frosty teaching our kids about respecting the authority of police officers? ("He led them down the streets of town right to the traffic cop. And they only paused a moment when they heard him holler 'Stop!'")
- Who tells scary ghost stories at Christmas? ("There'll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long long ago.")
- What on earth is a bobtail made to 40-40 speed (or 40 acid speed, as I recently heard on a different version)? ("Just get a bobtail made to 40-40 speed. Hitch him to an open sleigh and crack you're in the lead.")
Yesterday morning during my kid-free time, I decided to treat myself to a warm delicious mocha from McDonald's. I was in such a good mood that I wanted to pay for the car behind me. I cheerily asked the McDonald's employee at the window what the total was for the car behind me. It was a whole whopping $1.10. So my good deed turned out to be a teeny tiny gesture. Oh well.
I drove away happily knowing that I at least tried to do something nice. I took a tentative sip of my mocha, smiled warmly, and then took another drink that completely scalded my entire tongue. Happens every time.
* * *
On Monday during school, Nolan discovered that he could connect paperclips together to make a long chain. He used his newly discovered technique to make a necklace for a classmate. That night he wanted to show me what he could do, so I offered him my bin of colorful paperclips that I've been working on using since college.
He made a necklace for his teacher out of pink and blue paperclips because those are her two favorite colors. He also made a bracelet for one of his friends.
Then next day when he came out of school, he was clutching a handful of yellow Post-It notes. Each one was an order from a classmate for what type of jewelry they wanted and which colors they preferred. Nolan skipped his after-school snack and got right to work filling his new jewelry orders.
Griffin got in on the jewelry-making as well. He made a necklace for his teacher as well as a couple necklaces and bracelets for some classmates. Each boy was thoughtful about what colors each recipient would like best. They put each finished piece in a clear zip-top bag and labeled it with the recipient's name. The whole thing was so stinking cute. I even got a necklace, ring, and two bracelets.
They used up all of our paperclips and still brought home more orders. So yesterday during my errand time, I went to Staples and bought more colorful paperclips. I surprised them when they came home from school, and it may as well have been a Christmas present. Now they are determined to completely accessorize all their classmates by the end of the week.
* * *
I finished the teacher gifts for the boys as well as for Nora's Wednesday morning TLC teacher gifts. They're nothing spectacular this year. In fact, I feel like none of my Christmas gifts are spectacular this year.
I made two big batches of a caramel-coated snack mix that includes Crispix cereal, pretzel sticks, pecans, and popcorn. I bought cute tins from Walmart and filled them with the snack mix. I also made the Mentos snowmen that I've made in years past (you can use an old idea for new teachers, right?).
The gifts themselves may not be anything new or amazing, but I did spend time writing a personal card to each teacher to tell them how much they all mean to our family.
* * *
I also went to the library yesterday during my adult time. I've been wanting to read a book for pleasure lately, and I thought it would be best to enter the silent library without children.
I love the library. All those books. The solitude. The idea that I'm completely surrounded by thoughts and words of brilliant minds.
I'm also intimidated by the library. I don't know how it works. I spotted an area of computers. Surely that's where I would need to go to search for a book. But the computers were numbered, which suggested that maybe you have to sign up to use a specific computer? Most of the people on the computers were using them to browse the internet, not to look up books. How do I look up a book? I also didn't know what book I wanted.
A couple weeks ago, Jared made me watch the moving The Hunger Games. I didn't sleep for two days after that. The whole premise of the movie creeped me out to my very core.
However...I found out that the movie is based on a book. And not just one book. There are three books in the series. So, maybe I could put my mind to rest if I read the other two books and completed the full story.
So I decided to look for the next book in the series. But I still didn't know how to search for a book on the computers or how I was supposed to get permission to use a computer. So I sat on a comfy chair, pulled out my phone, and Googled the author of The Hunger Games.
Collins, Suzanne. I located the Fiction section in the library and found the "C" section in alphabetical order (C for Collins). But the books weren't there. Then I had an idea. I vaguely remembered that the books were intended for tweens. Which might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard since they're about people purposely killing each other for sport. But that's a different rant.
So I located the Young Adult section of the library. A...B...C! Collins! I found it! I snagged the last copy of Catching Fire, the second book in the series. Maybe I should be embarrassed that the only book I've read for pleasure in many, many months is from the Young Adult Section. I don't care. I sent Jared a text and picture to prove that I made it out of the library with a book.
I managed to read 234 pages of the book yesterday. And yes, I still helped the boys with homework, made dinner for my family, and completed most of my regular chores.
I suppose that's enough of my ramblings for now. I hope you're all having a great week!
Jessica
Monday, December 16, 2013
Snow
Saturday morning we woke up to several inches of beautiful snow. I was like an excited little kid looking out at our back deck and the trees behind our property.
I loved seeing the accumulation on our patio furniture.
Jared and the kids headed out to play in the snow for a bit before we had to hit the ground running into our busy day. I managed to snap a few photos before I had to head out into the busyness.
I hated to pull Nolan away from the fun, but we had to head up to church for his Christmas program rehearsal and then he had a basketball game.
While we were at church, Jared and the other two kids kept playing in the snow. Jared left me a giant message in the snow covering the tennis court behind our house:
He and the kids also made the cutest real-life version of Olaf, the snowman from the movie Frozen, in our front yard:
What a fun way to spend time with the kids and enjoy the winter season and pre-Christmas excitement!
This also reminds me of a favorite song that I forgot to share with you before (in this post about my favorite Christmas songs). It's "Winter Snow" by Audrey Assad and Chris Tomlin:
Jessica
I loved seeing the accumulation on our patio furniture.
Jared and the kids headed out to play in the snow for a bit before we had to hit the ground running into our busy day. I managed to snap a few photos before I had to head out into the busyness.
I hated to pull Nolan away from the fun, but we had to head up to church for his Christmas program rehearsal and then he had a basketball game.
While we were at church, Jared and the other two kids kept playing in the snow. Jared left me a giant message in the snow covering the tennis court behind our house:
He and the kids also made the cutest real-life version of Olaf, the snowman from the movie Frozen, in our front yard:
What a fun way to spend time with the kids and enjoy the winter season and pre-Christmas excitement!
This also reminds me of a favorite song that I forgot to share with you before (in this post about my favorite Christmas songs). It's "Winter Snow" by Audrey Assad and Chris Tomlin:
Jessica
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Pillows, Pies, and Gingerbread Houses
I have had a very productive day so far. Just ask my aching back.
First, I made some pillow covers. I was sick of not having cute decorative pillows in our living room, and I wanted to add a seasonal touch. I'm gonna try to write a tutorial on how I made the pillow covers out of a cheap Christmas blanket, but I'll give you a sneak peek now:
Second, Nora and I worked on the filling for the Caramel Apple Pies in Jars that I'm making for Christmas gifts. Don't worry, the recipients of the pies already know they'll be receiving them. In fact, they requested them. Plus one of them is Jared's grandma, and she doesn't own an answering machine, let alone a computer on which to read my blog.
This is the third year in a row that I've made pies in jars for Jared's dad and grandma for their Christmas gifts. You can read my first post about it here. I got the original idea from Our Best Bites. I make half of the pies Chicken Pot Pie using this recipe from Our Best Bites. I make the other half of the pies Caramel Apple Pie using this recipe from AllRecipes.com.
Each year I've increased the number of pies I make because they seem to return all their empty jars to me earlier in the year. This year I'm making the most yet. I already made 24 jars of Chicken Pot Pie.
Now I'm working on 24 jars of Caramel Apple Pie. Last night I made 4 batches of pie crust dough and stuck them in the fridge. Then I peeled two bags of Granny Smith apples (that's a lot of apples!). I used a vegetable peeler, started at the top of the apple, and peeled in a spiral until I ended at the bottom. I put all of the peeled apples into a large container filled with cold water and lemon juice and let them hang out in the fridge overnight. This is such a big job that I'm trying to break it up and work ahead as much as possible.
This morning I chopped all of the apples. By hand. Into little pieces. TWENTY cups of chopped apples. My hands are now misshapen claws. Next year I need to look into getting one of those handy gadgets that peel, core, and spiral cut apples. Then I'd just have to cut them into smaller pieces and call it done.
I added the lemon juice, sugar, cinnamon, and flour to the diced apples to complete the filling.
Later I'll roll out the pie crust and line the jars (which are washed and drying on my counter). Then I'll fill them with layers of apple filling, taffy, and caramel bits. Then I'll top them off with a circle of pie crust (with a cute little heart-shaped hole cut out to let steam out when they bake) and the jar lids and rings. The finishing touch will be the cute labels.
After I cleaned up the apple mess and made Nora's lunch, I got to work on my third major tasks: preparing gingerbread houses for some family fun tonight.
*Update: I wrote this yesterday afternoon, but then Blogger
malfunctioned and wouldn't let me publish it. I ended up finishing all
of the apple pies, so I now have 48 yummy jars in my freezer ready to be
given at Christmas gatherings. We also had tons of fun decorating our
gingerbread houses. It's such a fun tradition to do as a family.
Here's a look at our finished houses:
And now we're off to play in the freshly fallen snow!
Jessica
First, I made some pillow covers. I was sick of not having cute decorative pillows in our living room, and I wanted to add a seasonal touch. I'm gonna try to write a tutorial on how I made the pillow covers out of a cheap Christmas blanket, but I'll give you a sneak peek now:
Second, Nora and I worked on the filling for the Caramel Apple Pies in Jars that I'm making for Christmas gifts. Don't worry, the recipients of the pies already know they'll be receiving them. In fact, they requested them. Plus one of them is Jared's grandma, and she doesn't own an answering machine, let alone a computer on which to read my blog.
This is the third year in a row that I've made pies in jars for Jared's dad and grandma for their Christmas gifts. You can read my first post about it here. I got the original idea from Our Best Bites. I make half of the pies Chicken Pot Pie using this recipe from Our Best Bites. I make the other half of the pies Caramel Apple Pie using this recipe from AllRecipes.com.
Each year I've increased the number of pies I make because they seem to return all their empty jars to me earlier in the year. This year I'm making the most yet. I already made 24 jars of Chicken Pot Pie.
Now I'm working on 24 jars of Caramel Apple Pie. Last night I made 4 batches of pie crust dough and stuck them in the fridge. Then I peeled two bags of Granny Smith apples (that's a lot of apples!). I used a vegetable peeler, started at the top of the apple, and peeled in a spiral until I ended at the bottom. I put all of the peeled apples into a large container filled with cold water and lemon juice and let them hang out in the fridge overnight. This is such a big job that I'm trying to break it up and work ahead as much as possible.
This morning I chopped all of the apples. By hand. Into little pieces. TWENTY cups of chopped apples. My hands are now misshapen claws. Next year I need to look into getting one of those handy gadgets that peel, core, and spiral cut apples. Then I'd just have to cut them into smaller pieces and call it done.
I added the lemon juice, sugar, cinnamon, and flour to the diced apples to complete the filling.
Later I'll roll out the pie crust and line the jars (which are washed and drying on my counter). Then I'll fill them with layers of apple filling, taffy, and caramel bits. Then I'll top them off with a circle of pie crust (with a cute little heart-shaped hole cut out to let steam out when they bake) and the jar lids and rings. The finishing touch will be the cute labels.
After I cleaned up the apple mess and made Nora's lunch, I got to work on my third major tasks: preparing gingerbread houses for some family fun tonight.
 |
| Griffin |
 |
| Nora (She got hot, took off her clothes, got cold, and wrapped up in a blanket. I have no explanation for her hair.) |
 |
| Nolan |
 |
| Jared and I decorated the last gingerbread house together. |
And now we're off to play in the freshly fallen snow!
Jessica
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Wednesday Morning Adventures
Most of you already know that Wednesday mornings are my kid-free time. I usually use this time to run lots of errands, and today was no different.
I went to Walgreen's, Kmart, Hallmark, and Walmart. I picked up Christmas gifts, some household items, and even a "New Home" ornament to put on our Christmas tree.
I enjoyed the seasonal songs in the stores and observed the other shoppers. I grinned from ear to ear when I overheard two different sets of grandparents trying to navigate the toy aisles to buy gifts for their grandkids. I listened happily to a woman tell me that she can't find any Barbie clothes that don't look like they belong to a stripper. She previously bought Barbies for her granddaughters, and one had a tattoo under her clothes and the other turned out to be wearing thong underwear under her clothes. Don't worry, though; she found great alternative gifts for her grandchildren at Bass Pro Shop.
I witnessed a game of Parking Lot Chicken when one grumpy old woman in a minivan refused to slow down and another grumpy old woman walking across the lot refused to wait. There were no fatalities. Just cranky looks exchange between them while I tried not to laugh.
I was surprised by kind store workers and thoughtful fellow shoppers ("I think you were in line ahead of me." "No, you were here first.").
I got everything on my lists and headed home with my spoils. I parked in my garage and walked around to the passenger side to unload all my bags.
Then I heard a strange noise.
It reminded me of when my kids stick their faces in the bath water and blow bubbles.
I tried to follow the sound. It was down low. Lower. And then I realized what it was.
My rear passenger car tire was parked in a puddle created by melted snow from the car. There was a hole in the tire, and the air rushing out of the hole was blowing bubbles in the puddle.
I didn't even have a second to panic about the tire and the fact that I had to pick up my daughter soon and then my boys in a few hours.
All I kept thinking was how cool it is that God loves me and orchestrates the details of my day. I didn't get stranded at Walmart (or any of the other stores I visited). I didn't have to cut short my list of errands. I got everything done that I needed to for the morning. I made it all the way home. AND THEN God parked my car with the tire hole positioned exactly in the puddle so it would make a noise and alert me to the problem.
I had time to call my friend Megan and ask her to pick up Nora when she went to pick up her own daughter. I'm so grateful to have a friend like Megan who didn't even hesitate to help me even though she had her own schedule to keep today. Yet another blessing in my morning. Then I had time to call Jared. His work schedule has been crazy the last couple of months, but he was able to adjust his meetings so he could come home in time to pick up the boys from school (since it's waaaay too cold to walk!).
How amazing is all of that?? I know, pretty awesome.
Every day brings new adventures, and I'm so thankful that today's adventures reminded me that people can be unexpectedly kind and that God is in the details, no matter the circumstances.
Jessica
I went to Walgreen's, Kmart, Hallmark, and Walmart. I picked up Christmas gifts, some household items, and even a "New Home" ornament to put on our Christmas tree.
I enjoyed the seasonal songs in the stores and observed the other shoppers. I grinned from ear to ear when I overheard two different sets of grandparents trying to navigate the toy aisles to buy gifts for their grandkids. I listened happily to a woman tell me that she can't find any Barbie clothes that don't look like they belong to a stripper. She previously bought Barbies for her granddaughters, and one had a tattoo under her clothes and the other turned out to be wearing thong underwear under her clothes. Don't worry, though; she found great alternative gifts for her grandchildren at Bass Pro Shop.
I witnessed a game of Parking Lot Chicken when one grumpy old woman in a minivan refused to slow down and another grumpy old woman walking across the lot refused to wait. There were no fatalities. Just cranky looks exchange between them while I tried not to laugh.
I was surprised by kind store workers and thoughtful fellow shoppers ("I think you were in line ahead of me." "No, you were here first.").
I got everything on my lists and headed home with my spoils. I parked in my garage and walked around to the passenger side to unload all my bags.
Then I heard a strange noise.
It reminded me of when my kids stick their faces in the bath water and blow bubbles.
I tried to follow the sound. It was down low. Lower. And then I realized what it was.
My rear passenger car tire was parked in a puddle created by melted snow from the car. There was a hole in the tire, and the air rushing out of the hole was blowing bubbles in the puddle.
I didn't even have a second to panic about the tire and the fact that I had to pick up my daughter soon and then my boys in a few hours.
All I kept thinking was how cool it is that God loves me and orchestrates the details of my day. I didn't get stranded at Walmart (or any of the other stores I visited). I didn't have to cut short my list of errands. I got everything done that I needed to for the morning. I made it all the way home. AND THEN God parked my car with the tire hole positioned exactly in the puddle so it would make a noise and alert me to the problem.
I had time to call my friend Megan and ask her to pick up Nora when she went to pick up her own daughter. I'm so grateful to have a friend like Megan who didn't even hesitate to help me even though she had her own schedule to keep today. Yet another blessing in my morning. Then I had time to call Jared. His work schedule has been crazy the last couple of months, but he was able to adjust his meetings so he could come home in time to pick up the boys from school (since it's waaaay too cold to walk!).
How amazing is all of that?? I know, pretty awesome.
Every day brings new adventures, and I'm so thankful that today's adventures reminded me that people can be unexpectedly kind and that God is in the details, no matter the circumstances.
Jessica
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