Making Christmas

Well, I didn’t make all of it, but I had fun this year making some of Christmas. The girls were in desperate need of comforters this year. Their old ones had fallen apart, so I decided, rather than buy them I would make quilts.

When I was a kid my mom made my brothers denim quilts and I loved them. A while back my mom gave me a huge basket of old jeans she had collected, and over the years we have added to it. I decided denim quilts would be the thing, though they are horribly heavy, so I decided to go with denim and fun pink girly prints. They turned out marvelously cute (though very flawed ), and I have to give a huge thanks to the Joan Fabrics empoyee who advised me to use embroidery floss rather than yarn to tie the quilts because it looks nicer and won’t ball up. Yay!

For the boys this year I made snakes – my mom used to make us these too when we were kids and we loved them. They are over six feet long.  They were a hoot to stuff – and quite literally a pain. The only way to get the stuffing all the way done into them was to swing them through the air toward the ground as hard as I could. After a few minutes the stuffing would move a couple of inches and I’d scoot my hand up and keep swinging away. My arms ached for days afterward.

And of course, for James’ birthday, is the fleece blanket in the background.

Next year I’ll reverse and make quilts for the boys and snakes for the girls.

Your teacher said what?

Yesterday my fifth grader came up to me in tears while I was cooking dinner. “My teacher says there are too many people in the world because there are too many big families and we have a big family and I’m worried their going to split us up.”

I think I got whiplash from my neck snapping around to stare at her while the other kids, because of course everyone had to be present at that moment, broke into confused and distraught mayhem. “Oh, honey. There’s plenty of space still on the planet and they couldn’t split our family up.” I went on a little about laws and such, then asked, “Did your teacher say because you had a big family you would be split up?”

“No, that’s what I felt like she was saying.”

“What did she say exactly?”

Elizabeth made a few more sniffles in an attempt to calm down. “She said they are planning on sending people to live on the moon because we are overpopulated because people have too big of families.”

Inside I was fuming, outside I managed to remain calm and collected and reassured my family that nothing no-how would be able to split us up and separate us.

We talked some more and sweet Elizabeth says, “maybe I misunderstood, mom.”

Misunderstood? Maybe, but all of it? I was fairly sure she didn’t misunderstand the big family, overpopulation, and live on the moon parts. Honestly, I could care less about living on the moon, I was just bothered by the impact the big family comment was having on my daughter. I dwelled on it all evening and this morning I decided it was worth a call to the school over. There are a lot of large families in our area and I was worried about the other kids who might be worried but not mention it to their parents, etc.

So, I called the principle, and she was understanding and said she would talk with the teacher.

There are a few things I am grateful for because of this situation, first I am so glad that Elizabeth was comfortable coming and talking to me about something that bothered her so much. Go Liz! Second, from everyone’s reaction it was evident that even though they may fight a lot, they sure do love each other.

While these are wonderful things to realize, I would like to clobber the teacher for causing needless alarm and worry to a young child. I can understand it in highschool, even middleschool, but grade school, when most kids aren’t old enough to understand personal and political agendas or view points? Come on.

Has it really been over a month? (a random post)

Wow. I’ve been writing so much, I haven’t realized I have neglected my blog so terribly. Another NaNoWriMo has come and gone and I while I have completed the goal of 50,000 words in a month the first draft of this book still isn’t completed. I have come to the conclusion that it is really hard to keep up the blog while I am writing a book – I feel guilty if I have time to write and I don’t spend it on the big project.

At the same time – I miss all of my blog friends So, with November being done with I am hoping to be around more.

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About a week after Jacob was kind enough to bring the police over to the house James got a hold of the phone and dialed 911 – seriously – 3 visits from the police in just over a month is NOT my idea of fun. Thankfully we haven’t had any more visits since then.

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I had the most awesome piano recital! I only have a few students and while I am a firm believer in piano recitals and such, it seems silly to have a recital with only one or two students playing (my adult students don’t have to play, and about half of my students right now are adults). So, this time I contacted a local rest home and held the recital there. It was a hit! The residents loved it as well as the piano students, in fact, the students asked if we could do that for the piano Christmas party this year.

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I get to be in a bell choir! It is so much fun I have always wanted to be in a bell choir and it is just a hoot and a half.

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Surprisingly enough, we have been able to dodge all the sick stuff – well until last Friday anyway. Jacob and James had their H1N1 shots on Friday morning and then out of the blue that night James was sick with the croup – bad enough we wound up in the ER in the morning because, though we had managed to get his breathing better, it was still very labored. He’s doing a lot better now with the meds he’s on, but he had us quite worried there for a while.

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I am revelling in the freedom and novelty of having a child old enough to babysit her siblings. The idea of being able to run an errand without five children attached is mind blowing. The idea of being old enough for that to happen is even more mind blowing.

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The best and final randomness – Paul will be done with school tomorrow! Like graduated done! This last term has been the hardest ever. Partly because he’s been taking two classes, and partly because we are so close to being done I can taste it. It will be wonderful to have him around again in the evenings and such. Not to mention, having the stress of grades and all that done with. Now we just need to figure out a job to allow us to buy this house or any house anywhere. So, while we’ve been job hunting all along, it is going to begin in earnest and where the wind blows us is where we will land.

There’s my house, Mr. Policeman

It’s hard to believe its November already, and that I have a brand new Jacob adventure!

I was rotating between cleaning, writing, and playing with the boys yesterday morning. It’s NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month) again and I am trying to get into full swing of getting my newest book written (nothing has happened yet with the queries and such of the others, but writing is fun – so who cares if I don’t ever get published, I’ll just have fun writing anyway ). I wasn’t expecting anyone so I hadn’t bothered to do my hair yet or put my bra on. I was in my comfy sweats just working, typing, and playing away.

About mid morning I flipped a show on for the boys, they seemed very interested, so I felt safe in disapearing into the bathroom for a few minutes in order to do a little cleaning. I never heard the door open, and the fact that it was unusually quiet meant the boys were ingrained in their show.

I finished what I was doing and went to play with the boys again, I had been in there maybe about 5 minutes or so. Partway down the hall I heard the front door open. “Whose at the door?” I asked myself out loud and sped up a little wondering if Jacob was playing with the door. A second later I collided with the little rapscallion.

“Police here!”

“What? The police?” I ask, very confused. Why would the police be here?

“Yeah! Police here!” He was very excited.

I went to the front door and sure enough there were two policemen waiting patiently one my front step. “Hello?” I asked rather tenatively.

“Hello mam, we recieved a call from a concerned neighbor who saw your son down at street x.”

I felt the color drop out of my face as I looked at my energetic four-year-old who was peering out the window in facination at the police car. “Street x?” I asked. My mind was racing. It wasn’t a very busy street, but busy enough and a good 2 blocks away.

“Yes mam. And when we arrived he was running back and forth across the road.”

“I had slipped into the bathroom for a few minutes to do a little cleaning, I never even heard the door open. We have a lock up high on it, he must have undone it.” I was panicked then, trying to figure out what is going to happen. I look down as James toddles into my legs. To my dismay he had stripped out of his pajamas and found a purple marker. He had beautiful streaks running all up and down his chest and tummy. I pick him up and realize, with much humiliation, that I am standing there conversing with police officers in ratty sweats, messy hair and no bra! Jacob is bouncing around me try to talk to “Mr. Policeman!” And I am feeling like a guilty criminal. We talked some more and they suggested childproof locks, and I explained, I’m sure in desperation, that our houdini boy could undo them all.

The other police officer pipes up and says. “You have four children don’t you?”

“Five actually.”

“That’s right, I was here last month for the 911 hang-up call.” *(More on that call after the post).

I think I would have fainted if it weren’t for his amused smile. “I have a son like yours. We put locks on the doors he figured them out. I put high locks on the doors, he started going out the windows.”

Ah empathy. Perhaps I wasn’t going to be hauled away as the bad mother of the year after all. They proceeded to assure me that all was well. They just had to report that a neighbor called in and the little boy had been returned. No DHS or anything would be notified. As they left, and Jacob was energetically waving the first police officer (not the father of the escaping boy) looks at me and says, “Try to have a good rest of the day, mam.”

I managed a week smile and thank you. Went inside, scolded my Jacob, burst into tears and began looking for chocolate. Sigh. It’s a wonder I’m not gray yet. And from now on, I will be sure my bra is firmly in place no matter how empty of a day I am planning to have and dress James in only clothes that button up from behind (maybe I’ll just put his pajamas on backwards).

I can see the humor in it now…. I think….

*So, Back when I wrote about the retreat I mentioned that there had been a 911 call in my absence. Our oldest was on babysitter duty and Paul had slipped out for a little while to help a friend move into their house. While he was gone Jacob dialed 911 and then hung up. The police, of course, came over to the house. Our oldest was super smart, asking who was there through the door and being very grown-up and all. Everything was fine and she handled it very well. She explained what had happened, gave their names and birthdays, and asked a few times if we were in trouble because Jacob had accidentally dialled 911. They assured her everything was fine and we never heard anything more.

Hairy Tales

If you hair is down to your ankle
and your eyebrows can’t be found.
If your curls and locks really rankle
and bad hair days are common ground….

Have we got a do for you!

Hairy tales, hairy tales,
Hairy tales, Hairy tales…..

Just kidding! We don’t really want to torture you with ALL the strange renditions of Veggie Tales that we come up with. So, no more torture, here is the post:

Paul has been promising Jacob and James haircuts for a while. (Poor guy is swamped with work, school, church, family) The other day Jacob came running into our bedroom just after Paul had left for work.

“Dad! Dad?”

I though the distressed call was because he had forgotten that dad gave him kisses while he was still climbing out of bed. “Daddy left already. He gave you kisses, remember?”

“But he needs to give me a haircut.”

I smiled and tousled his hair which was beginning to curl and poke out in little wings above his ears. “He will when he has time, son.”

“But mom,” his tone was now exasperated and he reached up to tug on his hair, “I’m starting to look like Emily!”

Veggie Wars

For days on end, possibly even weeks my husband and I have had the theme song to Veggie Tales stuck in our heads – to the extant that we have both memorized the entire song. We can’t seem to go anywhere without spontaneously breaking into song. On the rare moment I might acutally be thinking of something else one of the children inevitably starts singing the catchy little tune.

It’s hummable, it’s singable, it’s cute and quirky and about fun-loving vegetables, but after the four thousandth, five hundreth, and seventy third time something has got to be done.

And do it we did.

We re-wrote it.

This is the parent’s version. The version where all parent’s relate because we know what would really happen if we turned our children loose (especially the boys) in the produce aisle.

I give you:

Veggie Wars

If you like to squash ripe tomatoes
And can throw them half a mile
If green beans can become fiery missiles
Launched at people in the produce aisle.

Then have we got a show for you.

Veggie wars, veggie wars,
Veggie wars, veggie wars
Veggie wars, veggie wars,
Veggie wars – veggie wars.

Potato Bombs
Thrown at moms
Give no qualms
Veggie wars

Bazooka beans
In camo greens
Go unseen
Veggie wars

Cauliflower
With Ninja power
Makes you cower
Veggie wars

There’s never ever ever ever ever
Been a war like veggie wars
There’s never ever ever ever ever
Been a war like veggie wars

It’s time for veggie Wa-a-a-a-a-rs!

(please feel free to sing, and if you aren’t sure of the tune, click on the link above – it will take you to the real theme song so you can practice )

Silver Lake Writer’s Retreat 2009

Last Thursday I woke in a panic as the doorbell sounded at 6:00 in the morning. I cursed my alarm (which I checked twice the night before to make sure it was set right – evil thing) and dove into the shower while my husband answered the door to let my friend, Christine, know that I would by ready in a few minutes. While they loaded my stuff, I sped through the shower, dressed and jammed a hat on my head. Not exactly the way I wanted to make my first impression on the writing retreat – I was just praying I didn’t have to do my presentation until Friday or Saturday. (At least I remembered my camera, unlike last year)

After an enjoyable 6-7 (with stops) hour drive (it really was enjoyable – there were no screaming kids, we didn’t have to stop every hour for the nearest bathroom, and I didn’t have to dodge missiles even once – I just enjoyed adult conversation for the whole time – woot!) we arrived at beautiful Silver Lake rec area in Whatcom County, Washington (practically in Canada). With relief I found out I didn’t have to present until Friday (yay – no hat head) and I was able to relax for a while, do some exploring, and settle into our cabin (we had the one with the bathroom – so no showering in the freezing cold bath house with quarter fed hot water – woot!)

Oh! And true to my name, I had my one goofy moment. Luckily, no one was around to witness it . (I just have the painful bruises on my knees and left leg as evidence.)

In this collage (going from left to right, top to bottom):

1. This is the view of the lake from our cabin.
2. The Main lodge. Down below you can see some canoes and boats – Upstairs you can see the glass windows – that was the day lodge where all our presentations took place.
3. Row Boats – we had one canoe and one rowboat rented. I took the rowboat out with Wendy, and we had a blast rowing about the lake.
4. I LOVE Cattails and I haven’t seen one in a really long time – I was positively giddy to see so many around this lake – it made me happy
5. Silver Lake
6. This is the beautiful little bridge we walked over every morning and evening to get back and forth from our cabin to the main lodge. I think I took a zillion pictures of it.

1. I made friends with this Canadian Goose. Really. I did. Well, I suppose if you ask Christine, SHE will say I was chasing it, but really I wasn’t – I was just following it around with a camera. It did hiss at me though, I thinking it was having relationship issues
2. My Bridge, my bridge, I love my bridge
3. While the leaves were just starting to turn (it had been warmer than last year, so we didn’t have as much color), the reflection in the lake was astounding.
4. My in front of the cabin – cabin 7
5. The complaint department – I just died laughing when I saw this.
6. There was this beautiful leave floating on top of the water right by the bridge. We also were spying on several crawdads, but I couldn’t get very good pictures of them.

Aside from exploring and soaking up the gorgeous scenery around us, we had plenty of time to write, visit, and write some more. There were some great presentations. We learned everything from time management with Marsha Ward, to Internet savyness with Liz Adair, and Writing Humor with Kersten Campbell. It was so fun chatting with all the other ladies and hearing about their projects and making new friends.

Everyone was so wonderful and amazing – and talented – it was a pleasure to hang out with them for a weekend.

Now, I know I haven’t said much about my presentation as I was preparing it, but now the time has come. I did Ninja Writing: Enhancing your writing through using your environment (including the 5 senses in your writing), the element of surprise (humor), and setting traps (foreshadowing – what it is and how to do it). I felt really good about how the whole thing went and, after much encouragement, I think I might send in a book proposal for it. I even had cool ninja masks for everyone! (and I wore my goofy slippers)

(Thanks to Wendy who took the awesome Ninja Photos!)

Saturday almost came too quickly and I can’t wait for next year. I arrived home to find everyone not only alive, but happy – and the house was even clean! I have the most amazing husband ever. Oh, and 911 was only called once! (more on that in the next post…)

P.S – This morning I got my first rejection for The Heart of the Castle – Woot!

Limes Float

Dorothy had decided Monday that for our special family night treat we would have lime sherbet floats, but she wanted to keep it a secret. We were seated at the table for dinner when one of the children asked if they could have a cookie for desert. Paul started to say yes when I gave him a swift kick. Under my breath I hissed at him, “Life floats.”

Children always have a keen sense of hearing when you DON’T want them to hear (just not when you DO want them to hear, heh). Elizabeth pipes up. “Lime Floats!” With a very please-with-herself grin.

I shot Paul a mischievous grin and turned to Elizabeth. “Really? Limes float?”

“That’s not what-” she began when I cut her off and turned to Paul.

“You know that is a great idea. It would be a fun experiment. I happen to have a lime in the fridge because I didn’t get the pico made the other day.”

Catching on quick he smiled and rose from the table. He filled a pitcher with water, extracted the lime from the fridge and plunked it inside with a soft splash.

“Well?” I asked.

He walked over to the table and plunked the pitcher in the middle. “There’s your lime float Liz.”

There were many giggles as each of the children peaked in the picture to see the lime floating serenely in the pitcher. After everyone had taken a peak he snagged Liz’s cup and pored some water in her cup. “There you go. Lime float!”

She laughed and then said his name, using the two-tone approach. “Da-ad.”

“She right! You forgot something,” I proclaimed. I reached into the pitcher and pluck the lime from the water, then proceeded to drop it into her cup. “Now you have an honest to goodness lime float.”

Finally after we were all finished laughing, Elizabeth pipes up. “I meant a float with lime ice-cream.”

Paul looks her in the eye. “I can honestly tell you we have no lime ice-cream whatsoever.”

Faces fell and Dorothy tried to smother a smirk, though her eyes sparkled merrily. Finally it was time for desert and we plunked a carton of lime sherbet and a bottle of Squirt on the table.

Elizabeth eyed the sherbet dubiously. “Da-ad, you said we didn’t have any lime ice-cream.”

I smiled at her and answered for my husband. “We don’t. This is sherbet. Ice-cream and sherbet are two completely different things. They don’t make lime ice-cream.”

She rolled her eyes at me and excepted her cup with a grin. I must say everyone seemed to enjoy their lime SHERBET floats amidst much laughter.

(Did I ever mention that we love to play with our kids minds? hee hee hee)

Maybe that is how they got so long

In my family growing up we always joked about ape arms. We were notorious for long limbs – my brother’s “wing span” is longer than his height. Yesterday I had a few errands to run and I decided to bring Dorothy with me for some mommy-daughter time.

We arrived home and Dorothy, eager to help, gathered up all the grocery bags. While they weren’t hugely heavy we had a few bottles of pop because she wanted to have lime sherbet floats for desert. She struggled up to the door and turned towards me, her arms hanging at her sides, the weight pulling on them.

“Mom,” she asks in all sincerity, “if you carry heavy things all the time, will it stretch your arms out?”

Fall (the season, silly – what were you thinking?)

Autumn

Trees don their burnt orange frocks
Before midnight winter   stealthily   steels   in.
Leaves dance
                      dizz-
                    ily
                      down-
                    ward;
A crisp crinkly crunch                 my feet.
                                  beneath

Apples polished to a shiny rosy red.
Enameled teeth
        sink
into white flesh
With an audible cool crunch and juice,
Dribbling
delectably,
descends
my chin.

Pointy
pencils scrape paper;
Inhale the scent of wooded lead
And the dusky pulpy
Pages of books barely opened.

The wind, now bold and brisk,
Bites my cheeks and teases my hair
Into a frenzied flurry of chaos, chasing clouds across the sky.

-J.H. Schmidt

I love fall. I love the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and wet earth as the rain sets in. I love the grins on kids faces as they return to school, and the feeling of slightly more time to get things done.

I love the sound of laughter as leaves are raked and piles jumped into. I love pumpkins bright and orange and bouncing behind the tractor on a hay ride. I love the cheering and flushed faces as the kids kick the soccer ball down the field.

This time of year is SO much fun! I can’t wait to go to the pumpkin patch with the kids and rake the leaves. I feel positively giddy!