Spunk, Anyone??

Though the photo at left has little to nothing to do with this post, I post it anyway.....because this was the smile that was pasted on that oh-so-innocent face tonight, when those cute little lips spewed forth buckets of spunk. 

Set Stage:  Bill, Jen and Camille sit at kitchen table, regrouping after day at work and childcare.  Jen has feet on chair, feeling lack of energy on Friday afternoon. 

Bill:  "Geez....it's been a few weeks now and my hamstring still isn't quite right." 

Camille:  "Well Daaaad...You're just gonna have to learn to live with it." 

And approximately five minutes later, apparently fed up with small talk and lack of action, after Bill suggested twice that I go exercise:

Bill (to Jen):  Okay, mom.  Go work out.  Go for your run.  I'll take Camille and Jack and go get Brooke.

Jen:  Okay......okay.

Camille:  "Well, Mom, how come you keep saying okay but you aren't doing a thing about it?" 

Okay, I guess we're calling it like it is today.  

Beth, remember on one of your last days here in Omaha at the Tasting Room when we worried together about her speech and ability to sustain conversation??  You really need a dose of her in person.  She's come a long and sassy way.   




Post-script:  I missed the boat on blogging about her piano recital back in May, but this picture was from that day and she did a smashing job with her two-handed Cuckoo piece.

Five equals Two

As of Sunday, when you ask Jack how old he is, he proudly holds up his hand, spreads out all five fingers, and announces, "I two!!"

And two he is.  Hard to believe.  I just happened upon some extraordinary pictures that my uber-super-photographer sister-in-law Carol took the day after he was born, and in doing so, I felt a little as though I was in a time warp. 

Gone is Jack in one-day-old fresh innocence.  Here is Jack, taking ownership of toddlership. 

Some of my faves about Action Jack at two years, four days:

• He is BUSY, BUSY, BUSY.  Though this mostly wears me out, his energy also inspires  me.



• His favorite place is outside.  Try to make him come in and you get the glare and the head tilt to the shoulder....or an outright scream. 

• His second favorite place is the pantry.  Insert Jack quote: " I anna sack."  Insert translation: " I wanna snack.

• His favorite activity:  Baseball.  He would play out in the yard with his daddy and his wiffle ball all day long.  LOVE watching this out the window when they don't know I'm looking.

• He loves that his Aunt Sissy lives in town. Eight out of ten times, when we turn into a neighborhood, his voice pipes up from the back seat, "Aun See-see?  Peena?"  Insert translation, "Aunt Sissy?  Athena (the dog)?"

• His signature run.  You have to see it to know and love it. 

• "Weed it ma-mee."  Insert translation:  "Read it mommy."  This refers to love of books and story time.

• His sweetness in being a great helper, at daycare and at home.

• His ability to be flexible in assuming his role as "the student" of his two older sisters.  At this rate, I'll have little left to teach him as they've already taught him colors and shapes!

• And probably my most favorite thing of all:  "PIES!!"  Insert translation: "Surprise!"  This would be referring to his routine of wrapping up in a towel after bath and flashing it open with a huge smile while shouting previously mentioned quote, revealing his buck nakedness.   Sorry, you're going to hate me for that one later, bud.

Love you little man Jack!  Happy five equals two.

P.S.  You gotta see the cake that Tonya at Hyvee made.  I asked for Cookie Monster, and she gave it to us....check out the frosting that looks like fur!!  And the real cookie crumbs in Cookie's mouth.  Priceless.

 

Time Flies

Cliche.  I know. 

But true, I know.

Something about having children seems to bring this saying into perspective at the speed of light.  Every time I allow myself to get a little complacent, there is a fleeting moment, a glimpse of an expression, some words of wisdom that are uttered from one of the kids, and suddenly, I become the observer of a movie where all the sound goes out and in a vacuum moment, I realize that time is a clippin' by. 

This past week, I found myself in the vacuum on more than one occasion.  The vacuum of Livvy-growing-up-ness.

Moment #1:  Preschool graduation.  A given.  Have to admit it was a bit tear-provoking to see Livvy and her BFF Morgan, who have been hooked at the hip since they were 8 weeks old at K4J, looking so 5-year-old.  Watching them grow up from babies to toddlers to little people with their own ideas, passions and personalities has been a true gift.  Yet, the end of the era is a little bittersweet as at the end of the summer, they head off to different schools to start Kindergarten.  Love you two! 

Moment #2: Dance Recital.  Can't say that Dad and I are all that concerned one way or another if you continue to dance or choose something else to bide your time, but the gift has been seeing you come out of your shy shell to fling that arm out a little and show someone, besides me, what you're made of.  I say that because it seems you have no trouble telling me anything at all whatsoever.   Nope, I never wonder where I'm at with you, which is something I adore. 

Love you, Roo Roo.  Let's just slow down the clock a bit, eh?

The Kite Runner

Just finished this read last night.  I admit, a hard one to put down. 

Without giving it away, I'll just say that even though it was hard to put down, I seem to be on a theme with my reading here--my last two books have been stories of oppression.  Having said that,  I do love a well-written novel with so much to contemplate.  I like to think that reading works such as these challenges me to be a better person.  Causes me to pause, think, and grow.  I'm not always very great at putting thoughts into action...but hopefully the seeds planted by great writers help in some way.

A Good Dose of Sarcasm

I will be the first to admit that I love quotes.  I've often found strength, courage and inspiration in literature and the minds of great people.  In fact, I keep a little leather-bound book and write inside the words of inspiration that speak to me the most. In some of the best and worst times of life, I can aspire to words that others have written or spoken. 

But, if I'm being real, I have to admit....I also love sarcasm.  It is humor at its best.  A reason in life to laugh out loud.  Pure medicine.  I am so lucky to work where I do because we truly don't make it 1/2 hour (at the most) without someone throwing out a great dose of random sarcasm. 

Ahhhhhhh.  Sarcasm.  I just even love the sound of the word. Think me morbid....oh, well. 

If you've poked around my links before, you may have come across the website

http://www.despair.com/

I hadn't visited there in quite sometime, but made a trip the other day....and it was time well-wasted.  Here's  a bit to whet your appetite.

The copy reads:

When you wish upon a falling star, your dreams can come true. 

Unless it's really a meteor hurtling to the earth which will destroy all life.  Then you're pretty much hosed no matter what you wish for. 

Unless it's death by meteorite.

If you love sarcasm and need a laugh....take a spin.  

Squishy Face

This may possibly be one of my most favorite expressions in the whole wide world of worldness. 

Meet Squishy Face.

How long Jack has had this expression coined, I cannot precisely recall, but I do know that I've laughed out loud at it for many-a-months now. 

Best of all, he does it on demand.  Instantly upon request.   All I have to do is say three magic words:  "Jack, squishy face!" 

And instantly, he delivers, my heart smiles, and I break out into laughter,.

Happy Heart Day

Happy Heart Day. 

A day of love.  A day of affection.  A day of pink, red and white. 

A day of gifts to those we hold dear to our own hearts.

These are the gifts the kids made for Grandma and Grammie and Pappie.  (Well, technically, Jack just supervised and ran in and out of the pantry dragging out bags of cereal, but I truly believe his heart was in it).

We had so much fun...and it came on the heels of a recycling unit in first grade, so the whole project was inspired green....even though its really red, pink and white.

I grabbed a few $1 frames from Michael's.  The kids cut up a Lucky Charms box into squares, painted them in festive Valentine hues, glued them on in a mosaic, and Mod-podged away.  For extra bling, they added buttons from my scrapbooking supplies and made a white poofy bow from....ta da...a plastic grocery sack--since, in fact, every time we go to the store without our canvas bags, we come home with forty-two plastic ones. 

And there you have it...our three little valentines, valentines for Grandparents, and a cyber-valentine to my faithful readers.

Happy Heart Day.

No Allowed Signs

Liv's obsession for the past several months has been "No Allowed" signs.  You know the kind with the red circle with the slash through the center that lays down the law about what is to not be done at any given place.

She spots them on the grocery carts.  Picutres of toddlers standing in the cart with a no allowed sign plastered across the terrible scenario.  May I add that she is now quick to scold me for letting Jack do this for the sake of making it through a shopping trip....because of course, it's not allowed.

She sees them across cigarettes, which of course launches a discussion on public health.

She notices them on street signs, which of course has now qualified her to be a back seat driver.

Today, she took matters into her own hands and decided to use the good old sign to better her own life.  Make a statement.  Promote change.

This is what Bill found when he went to use the bathroom off of the kitchen:

Her own "No Allowed" sign.  A picture of the step stool in the bathroom with the notorious emblem strategically markered across.

You see, her pet peeve is when someone takes the stool out of the bathroom because she uses it to reach the bathroom sink to wash her hands.  Usually, it has been dragged into the living room to be a footrest for Camille under the piano bench.

So....the sign is the exclamation point.  "No taking the stool out of the bathroom anymore." 

And apparently, it seems to be working, as the step stool is in its  place. 

A Half Decade in the Making

Olivia Ellen.

Livvy.

Liv.

Livvy Lu.

Lu lu.

Tinkerbell.

Today, I write for you. 

Today, my precious girl, you turned five years old. 

Tonight...you fell asleep in my lap, and now that the celebrating is done...my emotions rush in and the tears well up. 

You are not my first child to turn five.  You will not be my last.  Yet, today strikes a special place in my heart because I look at you and see how grown up you have become in your little self. 

I see how this has happened in the blink of an eye.

And I feel proud and out of control and happy and sad all at once.

It's hard to articulate why I feel that your infancy, toddlerhood and preschool years have fled by so quickly.  I suspect it is partly because you hit every milestone long before you were supposed to and I never had to worry that you wouldn't.  I am guessing it is partly because we live a life that has slightly more chaos than some, and the idiosyncrasies fill up any time voids that might have been possible otherwise.  I know it is partly because you are wise.  Not just book smart, but wise about the world, its people, and your place in it.  Sometimes, I see that you are wiser than you should be at your age.  Though that has made you sassy and sometimes hard to "outparent," it has also made you very perceptive and insightful and caring. 

We are so much the same that it sometimes frightens me.  You are sassy.  You won't take no for an answer.  You have passion that is sometimes untamed.  You love to get your hands into things and create. Yet, I see you with qualities that I have only hoped to have, and for this, I know you will be a better person than I could ever be.  Keep that sweet and salty edge, Livvy.  Never stop standing up for what you believe.  Keep making your mark on the world.  Paint it your own color, even if nobody but you thinks it matches.

And keep that compassion.  At five years of age, you read people.  You tap into feelings.  You know how to make a moment better, a day brighter.

Keep that spirit of living in the moment.  You have forfeited zoo trips for the sake of lopping along to physical therapy.  You have traded Disney World for Detroit.  You have proudly taken on the role of being an older sister and given up more undivided attention.  Yet, you find excitement in every adventure and a reason to love the moments not for where they are or what they are,  but who they are with. 

Keep that adaptable nature.  You are the fourth-born, yet the second-born, yet you often have taken the role of the first-born.  This identity crisis would give anyone a sense of instability, but you remain a rock, comfortable in your skin and oblivious to the fact that...well...things are different sometimes.  Different, but not worse.

I love your creativity.  Your imagination.  Your story lines.  Your knack for art.  I love watching you create a very lengthy and involved plot-line with a one-inch plastic teddy bear and a rubber band.  I love your hugs.  Reading just one more and one more and one more book every night.  I love snuggling up with you on the couch.  

I love you.

I love that tonight, when you feel asleep in my lap, you still were clutching Bunny tightly....and I love that you were sucking your thumb even though the pediatrician probably wouldn't....because it reminds me that you are still my little girl. 

Never stray too far away, sweet girl. 

Thanks to De....

...I'm already flunking resolution #1 of my Happiness Project, which is to get more sleep, as that feeds into more energy, which feeds into more happiness.

HOWEVER...you know how I feel about owls and my friend De custom-designed a new header for my blog because SHE knows how I feel about owls....so here you have it.  I simply had to redesign my blog around my new custom-made owl-header. 

And now it's 11:43 p.m. 

But isn't it cute? 

And if you want to see more uber cuteness, visit her blog:

http://www.theplainscrafter.blogspot.com/

De, it was bliss talking to you today.  You are one of the most genuine people that I know and I miss you here in the arctic. 

What is the What

This is the book I just finished reading a few weeks ago.  In my mind, an epic.  A novel which should be read, contemplated, and internalized.

It is the story of Valentino Achak Deng, one of the Lost Boys of Sudan, who came to the United States as a refugee after living in two different refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya before which he fled Sudan in order to live.

It is a story of true fear, true courage and true survival.  A story of kindness, forgiveness and reality.  A story with a message, if you so choose to listen to it.

Reading this book was actually one of the goals I listed on my required goals for job performance for the year 20010-2011.

My relationship with Sudanese refugees began 7 1/2 years ago when I started my job as patient care coordinator at the UNMC HIV clinic. 

7 1/2 years ago, I viewed taking care of this very special group as one of the most challenging, and thus frustrating, parts of my work.

7 1/2 years later, I view taking care of this very special group of people one of the most challenging, and thus amazing parts of my work...and it a privilege to do it everyday.

In the past 7 1/2 years, I have gained a great respect and adoration for the refugees of Sudan.  As United States citizens, we think we know a lot about fear, hunger, survival, and hardship.  In some ways, we do. 

I think that I can honestly say that I know alot about grief.  But, I certainly don't know what it is like to have my village burned and my family, friends, and neighbors killed at point blank before my eyes.

I can say that I know fear.  But, I certainly don't know what it is like to cross the wild open lands with a vague destination in mind in the middle of the night to avoid being killed by armies, but to risk being eaten by lions.

I can say I know uncertainty.  But, I have never wished to move to a foreign land for the sake of a better life.  A land where I don't know the language and the culture.  A land where there are things I've never experienced, but a land where I am expected to be instantly self-sufficient.  A land full of new concepts like time, technology, health care, grocery stores, money.  A land where globally, I will not be respected, though I dream of going there. 

This is the life of so many of those I serve.  And for them, I have a profound adoration.  They have changed me.  They have made me wiser.  If you're up for a good read, be challenged to learn from their story.

The Tooth Fairy Chronicles

 It is done. 

The first tooth is out. 

With Mom holding a tense hand on the left, and dad perched, Kleenex in hand at right, Camille opened her mouth and gave Bill until the count of seven last night to get in there, grasp, and pull.

Of course it helped that I was the one counting....very slowly...but I didn't even make it to four before Bill had that baby out and Camille didn't know what she was missing. 

Her immediate thoughts on the matter:
     "Well, I guess now I only have 19 teeth....but I still have more than Jack."

And then, she spent several minutes inspecting the tiny little thing with her magnifier. 

Of course, we had to make a jar for the tooth fairy, just so, as Camille said "he OR she won't miss it."  It appears we are an equal opportunity household, even when mythical legends are involved. 

Funny thing is, when we slipped into her room to check the jar at bedside, it was on the floor, all sealed up.....but there was no tooth to be found.  Inside or out.  Bill didn't take it.  I didn't take it. 

Though we still have to fill the jar with the coveted prize......

I believe. 

The Self-proclaimed Tooth-Pulling Expert

A milestone is approaching. 

Camille has a loose tooth.  Her first loose tooth.  It has been a bit wiggly for awhile, but now it is actually so wiggly that it isn't even straight anymore.

She talks big.  Oh yeeeah baby. (Check that...with the exception of the time that she told Livvy she couldn't eat brussel sprouts because it might make her tooth fall out and then proceeded to eat rock-hard, uber-crunchy pita chips.)

For example:

"Mom, Dad's gonna pull my tooth tonight so the tooth fairy can come."

" I can't wait to lose my first tooth." 

"Will you get a special jar ready so I can put my tooth in there for the tooth fairy when dad pulls it?"

She even lusts after the tooth-loser hall of fame in the nurse's station at school.

HOWever, when push comes to shove....or should I say when pull comes to pull....the talk is talk.  Nope, no walking that talk here.

A few nights ago, she was sitting on my bed finishing up reading.  Exit left to brush teeth.  Reenter. 

Mom:  Hey, did you get your teeth brushed?  Let me check out that bottom tooth. 

Wiggle wiggle.

Enters Dad stage left. 

Dad proceeds to wiggle wiggle.

Dad:  Camille, let's get that tooth pulled tonight.

Camille:  (whimper)

Dad:  What?

Camille:  Dad, it's just that I'm not that big a fan of tooth-pulling.


Nice try.  Like you've had so much experience.  And who really  is a fan of tooth-pulling anyway?  (Well, besides the dentist.)

Back in the Chair

I've told myself that I WILL scrapbook more this year.  So, here's my first page of 2011.  Which is actually only a baby step as it is a redo of a page I did before but didn't like.

The journaling is difficult to read from the picture, but it is about my Grandma Irene:  the baby rocker.  I distinctly remember her rocking me to the tune of "How Much is that Doggie in the Window," and it was before she and Grandpa moved off of the farm, so I had to be less than 5 years old.  Needless to say, she left quite an impression, and it was amazing to watch her rock two of my children before she died. 

How I miss that sweet and sassy Grandma of mine.