A Jump in Logic- or was that Intuition?

#1 has terrible handwriting.  The child is 10, for crying out loud.  She doesn’t drop things or fall down, but she also has difficulty playing basketball and doing aerobics. 

I haven’t wanted to compare her to Supergirl (#2), so I’ve been putting #1’s lack of fine motor skills down to laziness/overweight.

But learning about #3’s AS makes me wonder:  Have I confused the cause for the effect?  Is there something chemically/developmentally off about #1 that makes her unable to make tiny movements with control???

A Rolling Stone

I was previewing my post and re-noticed the mossy stones on the blog header.  Reminds me of another example of the miracle that is my lasting marriage to Mr Wonderful.  You see, Mr Wonderful and I have never spoken the same language, although we both grew up with English-speaking parents on the East Coast of the good ol’ US of A.

Take the expression, “A rolling stone gathers no moss”.  In my family, it’s a benediction.  Moss is indicative of sloth, corruption, decay.  So, staying energetic, the Puritan work ethic, etc., make that saying a compliment.

In Mr Wonderful’s family, holding onto land is the only sure way to move up economically.  You may remember that Mr Wonderful’s granddad abandoned his family, and Mr Wonderful’s dad, growing up a bit wild in Horse Country, took to the racehorse circuit as a jockey at the tender age of 15. 

Having the tenacity and dedication to grow anything green over even a single season, then, is admirable in Mr Wonderful’s eyes.  The longer you stay in one location (preferably buying some land, but at least establishing a reputation over the course of years), the wiser you prove yourself to be.  Calling someone a “rolling stone” was a warning about their character.

Sigh.  All the months Mr W and I dated, all the talking and listening we did, did we uncover any of the dozens of language gaps?  Nope.  Would it have mattered if we did?  Probably not.  When we uncover another language gap tomorrow, should I throw up my hands and say, “It was a mistake ever to have married you?”  Nope.

Just keep working at communication.  Keep putting kinetic energy into the marriage, and it won’t stagnate to an odious end.  A rolling stone gathers no moss, y’know.

Never, in my wildest dreams…

would I have imagined that “someday” the kiddos and I would shop for a month’s worth of groceries groceries in this way:

I make the list.  Mr Wonderful sets the budget. (Yeah, it would make sense to do it in reverse, but somehow that never comes to pass.)  Kiddos and I get into the minivan.

#1 and #3 get carts/buggies.  I hold the list and lead.  I point to an item on the shelf, tell #2 how many we need for a month’s meals, and she loads them into one cart or the other.

Whilst we cross aisles, #2 arranges for #3 and #1 to get equal turns walking ahead of the other, for an almost-equal number of heavy objects to be in each cart, and prevents snide remarks from #3 and/or #1.

Occassionnallyy, I tell #2, “Have them pull up here and stop” (if the aisle is crowded further on), and I grab whatever is needed off the shelf and return it to #2, who takes it from there.

We check out ($2 under budget, TYVM), drive home, and put the hatchback next to the front steps.  I unload the bags onto the porch, the kiddos (after, um, “re-focusing” #3, who is much more interested in reading the mail) bring the bags into the kitchen.  I tell them all cans go into the pantry, and load a couple of bags onto the washing machine (next to the pantry).  #3 fills the pantry shelves.  #1 puts the veggies, meat and bread onto the correct freezer shelves (I like organized shelves, even in the freezer).  #2 unpacks bags onto the kitchen table.

A month’s worth of meals and snacks.  Shopped, paid, put in storage- all in 2 hours.  There were moments they complained vociferously, but I ignored it.  Afterwards, we shared the package of Swiss Rolls, and they went out to play on the Slip-n-Slide whilst I swept the floor and prepped for my student.

Srsly, if anyone had told me seven years ago that the 3 babes (who were then in diapers) would show teamwork and willingness like they did today, I would’ve laughed myself silly.  Dang, I could’ve used a good laugh then, too- Exhaustion was my middle name at that point.

If anyone had told me 3 years ago that I would blow off the whining and griping that went on today, (short thought it was) I would’ve said that’s “getting soft” and “spoiling the kids”.  Well, maybe I am.  Exhaustion hasn’t completely left my middle, after all.

So, good night and come what wild dreams may!

Grocery List

To do Monday:

Call the sitter and arrange for the kids to sleep over at her place on Prom Night (Friday).

Call the local spas and ask for them to donate manicures for the 5 ladies who are running their bones to the ground for me re: VBS.

Pick up magenta toner (I like the new all-in-one printer, but really! Magenta?) so Mr W can do his homework when he gets home from class tomorrow night.

Return the Hastings movies, buy groceries for May, pay the mortgage (all 3 businesses are in the same center).  Try the thrift store again for summer tops for #1.

Homeschool.

Tutor Latin from 4-5 pm. 

Mondays are always laundry days, since if I tried getting caught up on the Sabbath it would cause me to lose my religion. (Counter-productive, eh?)

3 square meals, trolling the house, and getting the kiddos to sweep the grass out of the kitchen before the student comes over. (#1 found a nest in the back yard.  She and #3 are each sure the 2 eggs they brought into the house are going to become pet chicks any day now.)

Good night!

When Worlds Collide

You know, I do love Mr Wonderful, but he can be a bit exasperating (as can I, of course).  About 9 tonight he mentions, “Could you help me get that big pile of yard junk burnt by May 1, when our burn permit expires?”

He wasn’t suggesting that I burn it tonight, just that it be done by Wednesday night.

Now, please understand that we agreed (after Mr Wonderful tried it solo and nearly set the neighbor’s winter wheat aflame last December) that it would be best if there were two adults and several dozen yards of garden hose available when Mr W next tried to clear the brush pile.  I asked if he wanted me to take the job last December, and he assured me he would be responsible for the whole deal himself.

Frankly, the pile could sit there and grow kudzu for all I care- it’s already sat in the yard for 2 years, and it doesn’t bother anyone.  But, the Head of the Household has a higher priority for it.

Um, it’s raining tonight.  It’s scheduled to rain all day tomorrow- and the other adult, Mr W, won’t be home until close to 8 pm anyway.  Wednesday nights I teach at AWANA.  Mr W tutors from 6-8 on Tuesdays. 

Does this mean one of the kiddos has suddenly been elevated to adulthood so the “2 adults, yards of hose” agreement holds?  Or is that safety precaution trashed because the deadline for the burn permit is so close?  Am I supposed to call around tomorrow and find out if a lady friend is free Tuesday night to watch me burn tree limbs?  Am I supposed to find a sub for AWANA and stay home so Mr W can run the fire on Wednesday?

I’ll ask in the morning.

It Takes Two

We’ve decided our house is not the best situation for the Mysterious Stranger.  It’s too far from transportation to the airport and it’s just not safe for the kids and I to be home alone with an unknown man.  Good-o on Mr W for looking out for our protection.

For my part, I strongly recommended we use his school paycheck to repay a friend who called about having a tight budget at her house this month, and waiting to pay bills (which aren’t due until May 1 anyway) once the clowning check clears Monday.  He is planing today, so I am balancing the checkbook, which works better for both of us.

In other news, RootieToot has come through with flying colors for VBS crafts!!  If Miss P.M. will make enough phone calls to get prize donations, and the Young Married Couple will volunteer to do music, VBS will be completely covered. 

The kiddos have struggled mightily through their first week of school.  Rootie made a great suggestion about Language Arts, so we’re having a lot more fun with that this year.  We’re using “Lyrical Life Science”, which is basically learning science through singing old songs- the kids love it!  #3 has a grammar program that uses singing to teach parts of speech, too.  If it weren’t so useful, I’d drop ‘learning hymns’ from our weekly schedule.

Surprisingly for a houseful of linguists, Spanish review and Latin has fallen through the cracks.  We also haven’t gotten into a schedule for morning chores/aerobics.  We did start reading a chapter a night of “Prince Caspian” to prep for the movie release.  (I’m just a little excited about that!)

The same week as PC comes out, Indiana Jones’ next film comes out.  Looks good on imdb.com.  Since we got the Indy movies as a family Christmas present, I suppose we had better put aside some savings for a matinee!  That’s going to be a tight week, since it’s also #3’s birthday, and we are planning a “Detective” party, per his request.

Mr Wonderful has invited me to the Prom!  Srsly, the school asked if we would chaperone, and his ticket is free.  We have lots of bartered babysitting hours built up, so we’re hoping the sitter will keep them overnight, as she has several times in the past.

Still to check off:  weekly call to Mom, grade homeschool quizzes (Saturday is Quiz Day), prep to teach Sunday School.  Nice!

 

The Magnificent J

When we moved to this house, Mr Wonderful mowed the lawn once.  After that, we hired out. 

God is gracious: there was a teenager at our church (we’ll call him “C”) who did a very, very, very good job for a fair price.

He went to college and sold his business to a teenager (“A”) at our church who did the same.  (Plus, I was tutoring this kid in Spanish, so it sometimes worked in barter instead.)

He moved to Tennessee and sold the business to a teenager at our church who outshines ‘em both. 

When we saw “J” on Sunday, he apologized for not getting to the lawn sooner.  Seems it’s taken him a little time to get adjusted back to USA pace from his month-long mission trip to Togo, Africa.  (He’s 17.)  While he was fixing an airplane for medical relief efforts in Togo, he kept up with his schoolwork, his piano practice, and solved world hunger.  Just kidding- world hunger will be his next project.

This afternoon, the lawn looks spectacular- like those mansions in Buckhead.  J is a perfectionist, which is supercool, since he pushes himself harder than we ever would.  The neighbor across the street immediately hopped on his lawnmower when he saw J pull in- not that there’s any competition, really.  Really!

I love looking at the lawn after J has been here.  It feels like the whole place is civilized.  Even the pile of dishes in the sink looks small and peaceful, not bothersome at all.

On the other hand, I’m happily excited, wondering what SuperLawnHero God is going to pull out of a hat when J goes off to college/full-time missions. 

Indiana Jones

Mr Wonderful grew up on horse farms- where folks raise racehorses.  His dad was a (self-taught, since I’m vicariously boasting this week) blacksmith, who had to speak with everyone from the billionaire owners (he’s done work on the Anheiser-Busch horses) to Mexicans who had so newly emigrated they could barely say more than, “Hello” in English, and everyone in between- vets, jockeys, grooms, reporters, truckers, etc etc etc.

Since Mr Wonderful spent many an afternoon on horse farms, waiting for his dad to finish work (Mr Wonderful’s mom abandoned the family when he was 9), and since Mr Wonderful is an outgoing sort of person, he befriended people from every walk of life.  Think “Because of Winn-Dixie”, and I’m not telling which character.

All this to say: Mr Wonderful has taught me a lot about the importance of having folks around who are different from you.  Older folks.  Babies.  Black folks, Hispanic folks, Asians, rich, poor.  The tapestry of life. 

It pains me to see teenagers in cliques.  Frankly, as an overweight lower-middle-class soccer mom, I’m usually on the “snubbed” end, so it really does still hurt my feelings.  But, besides that, it’s not good practice for the teenagers.  They’re going to spend 70-80 of their next years (God and medical science permitting) around folks of varying ages and backgrounds, so there ought to be a few around during the teen years to practice with, IMO.

Which is why I hope in the upcoming Indiana Jones movie, Harrison Ford plays an adventurous MUCH older Indy, or an adventurous, smart dad to Indy’s son/daughter (a la Sean Connery in “Last Crusade”), or something where youth and age work together for the benefit of both.

It’s what I liked about the “Spy Kids” series.  “Spy Kids” was marketed toward the Hispanic community, in case you didn’t pick up the visual cultural clues in the film. 

In fact, I like the increase in the Hispanic population in the US.  The US has sold its “nuclear family” orientation, for the most part, and bowed down to the idol of youth.  (When’s the last time you spoke in an honoring way about your parents on your blog?  On the phone to a friend?  With your spouse?)

For the most part, the Hispanic community still has a generational mindset, and I’m hoping the eeuu will re-learn how to integrate all the generations in the upcoming cultural exchange.

Evolution of the Footstool

When #2 was born, my FIL kindly named the next calf born on his farm after her.  (He claims he does this with all his grandkids.)  Some years later, Mr W and I were given the opportunity to buy half of the beef when that cow went on the block.  (The irony boggles my mind.)  So we loaded 2 toddlers into our minivan and drove to Kentucky for Thanksgiving break, which is the time of year when FIL turns appellations into appetizers.

It was quickly apparent that 1 cooler wouldn’t fit 1/2 of the beef, so Mr W and I zoomed over to Stuff-Mart and bought 2 big, green, Coleman coolers.  At the “We have toddlers” stage, it seemed we would never need a cooler that size again, and in the next months we considered giving away or selling those coolers a dozen times over.

These past couple of years, however, the Big Green Cooler has come in very handy- the drive to Washington, D.C, the recent trip to B’ham, unnumbered trips to the Food Co-op (where even ice cream is a potential treat from 3 counties over), etc.

In fact, we used it so often with the Food Co-op that, once home again, I would just toss it (that’s a Jerseyism for “put it”) on the back porch.  Yep -although it’s been months since we were part of the Food Co-op, it’s still just sitting out there, gathering rainwater in the drink holders, turning yellow with the pine pollen and green again with the spring rains.

Thankfully, God has once again covered my laziness.  These lovely spring evenings allow us to sit on the back porch with a cuppa and a thawed cookie, and the Coleman fits under the table (which, if I may vicariously boast, Mr Wonderful tiled) as The Perfect Footrest.

I’m considering bringing the other cooler up from storage so #3 can use it for a seat when we play cards on the porch.

Dear Sister Up North

Thank you for spending money on me, even though it’s been months since we’ve been in contact.  I know you’re not related to Paris Hilton, so I really appreciate the book you bought me.   Major coolness to get a surprise gift in the mail, too!

Sigh.  I wish I could say I’m SuperSaint, and that my marriage is (another) proof of my closeness to God- or would that be closeness to perfection?  I take it to heart that it helped you- I’ve long admired your marriage, and that of the other lady mentioned in your note.  (Of course you’re both remaining nameless- the KGB still surfs the Net occassionnallyy!!)

Seriously, I will read it and apply what I can.  I’ll ask Mr W if he has time to read it with me, too.

Thank you, too (yep, this is gonna sound strange) for NOT sending, “Made to Be His Helpmate”.  Thanks also for NOT chastising me for blogging dirty details about the mess that is my life, and for NOT calling me “spiritually immature”, “a bad example of Christ” or whatever.  (Well, at least not calling me that to my face!)

Thanks for, instead, thinking, praying, and trying to do something real to help.  I didn’t know you were such a good friend!  Cool surprise #2!