The Doors

Wow, it's been a while since I've posted anything. In some ways, not much has changed. In other ways, things have changed a great deal.  Where to begin?

Today, I was at a bouncy/trampoline place with my family and several other families in our homeschool community.  The parents were sitting in a lounge area chatting about politics, issues at home, and life in general, and the kids were having a blast in this really cool place.  And it occurred to me that even though our homeschool journey just begin a few years ago, here we were, with some wonderful people, enjoying time as parents, at a place we might not have ever known about had we not taken the plunge to homeschool.  Granted, in the entire scheme of things, this wasn't why we chose to homeschool, but it was pretty cool. 

See, I'm not a person who loves change. I don't really care for surprises, either.  If you tell me you have a surprise for me, and it isn't forthcoming in, say, two seconds, I just don't like it. I will fret and worry and fuss and work myself into a real stressed-out crabby momma in no time flat. I just don't take well to change.  I hate to admit it, but it's true. 

But it occurred to me today, that this great feeling of sharing some parent time with other folks like this was the result of opening a door, completely without any idea of what was behind it, and that maybe this is really true of EVERY door we open to a new opportunity - somehow what lies beyond that door becomes populated with people who are also approaching that opportunity, at a different stage, and that eventually this change becomes so much a part of your norm that you can't imagine your life without this.

I hope that makes sense.  To me, it does.  And perhaps that will help me accept change a little more readily and with less fuss and stress.  We'll see. 

This new year, I need to make some pretty major changes in my life.  My health hasn't been the greatest, and I know the root of this is that I need to take better care of myself. Duh.  Eat better, get more exercise, and generally stress way less than I do now.  Simple enough, right?  Baby steps.  Simple measures, simple pleasures.  I am cutting grains out of my diet, increasing my intake of veggies, and getting out and moving more.  There, it's out there now, for all the world to see.  I've spoken these words, I've written them down in a blog, and I'm committed.  This will happen.  My hope is that by this time next year, I will be writing about the success of this endeavor, bragging about how my health woes are disappearing or have disappeared all together, how I've been able to thumb my nose at doctors who don't seem to know what the dickens they are doing, all of it.  It could happen.

My wish for myself, my family, and all my friends and loved ones is that 2012 is a time of opportunity and growth in a positive way, a look at these doors ahead of us as a good thing, and that we all just stress out less, enjoy more, and realize that the best things in life are indeed free.

Summer Breeze Makes Me Feel Fine

It was gorgeous this morning.  And this time of year, the mornings hang on a bit longer to the chill of night, before the heat gets to you for the day.  So we decided to get out my husband's old GTO and go on a drive, the whole family.  Well, not the dogs.  We can't have dog hair on the nicely restored interior.

With the windows down, and my hair whipping all around me, I began to reminisce about times in my teen years when I'd be out driving with friends.  It was similar.  None of us had air conditioning, and somehow we were more connected to the world around us with the windows down.  It was a simple pleasure, and always the sensation of driving down the road with the windows open will always take me back to that time.  Maybe I'm just too nostalgic, but despite a lot of challenges, that was a happy time in my life.

So as I sat in the passenger seat this morning, eyes closed, and feeling the air rushing in from the window, and thinking about my teen years, I hear my not-quite-a-teen daughter, whose hair is longer than mine, complaining from the back seat.  "Will you close the windows and turn on the air conditioning?"  Actually, the GTO has no air conditioning.  And, sadly, my daughter's future reminiscing of an open car window may be far different than mine.

However, as the drive went on, some kind of magic came over my family.  My daughter somehow accepted that the cool air was a good thing, despite what it was doing to her hair.  She and her brother began to laugh and make jokes in the back seat.  Even my husband began to smile.  Life was good.  Sometimes the best things in life are the simplest.  It really set the stage for a wonderful, easy day before we all have to get onto the busyness on Monday.  And I'm so grateful for the time we had together.  And if tonight I dream about drives years ago in an old Nova stationwagon, well, that's not all bad, either.

Of Birds and Slingshots

It's funny how relationships evolve, especially with one's children.  A year ago, who could have guessed I'd be at my sewing machine, putting small pieces of fleece together with my children watching in awe.  After all, they usually ignore me when I'm elbow-deep in fabric in my sewing room.  But not tonight.  Tonight, we were creating a small red plush bird, a replica of a character of the Angry Birds game.

Really, this just started a week ago when I downloaded a free app for my iPhone for the game.  I'd heard about it and thought I'd give it a try.  I had to show my kids.  It was adorable, in a flatten-bad-piggies-by-slinging-angry-birds sort of way.  And soon it was all we could talk about.  A quick search online found a blog by a woman who had made small plus characters from the game for her family.  We had to try it.  And try, we did.

Celebrating Independence Day!

Happy Independence Day!

Well, close to it.

We're still two days away from the 4th of July, but in my heart, I'm anticipating the concerts, barbecues, and of course the fireworks that always mark this holiday's celebration.

So at work the other day, I was talking to a woman at another company, in Canada, and she wanted to schedule a conference call for Monday, the 4th. I explained to her that we were off for the holiday, the 4th of July. It took her a minute, then it dawned on her that this was an American holiday (and many of her countrymen would be off July 1st for Canada Day).  But it made me realize that we rarely ever use the term "Independence" Day anymore.  So I asked myself whether or not this term has become irrelevant?  If it has become irrelevant or passe, why is that?

Over the last two years, since we first took the big step to homeschool our children, as a family we have read far more about American history than I ever did in school. It has made me realize how much sacrifice and risk our fore fathers took to establish the foundation that has given us the liberty to do great things and grow as a powerful and free country.  I remember, even as a young girl, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing we had these liberties.  My parents were hard-working people, my dad especially was very humble.  He served his country in the Korean War and always tried to teach us kids the value of a dollar earned, and made it clear to us that we could each make our own way in life, doing what we felt called to do, and be better or worse for the choices we made.  So I have a fondness for independence, individual responsibility, and a deep appreciation for what gave us this incredible foundation we have here.  My grandparents immigrated from Europe in the 1930's and I grew up hearing their stories about coming here and making a great life for themselves, living the American dream.  Even many decades later, they would cry when they would talk about it, so overcome with gratitude they were for the opportunity to live freely here and make their own way to a good life.

So this Independence Day, as I watch the fireworks with my kids and grill yet another hot dog, I hope I can share this celebration of history with my kids and give them a little bit of insight into why I feel this country is great, why it's important for them to take responsibility for themselves, and why it's so important to remember our heritage and our history.

Happy birthday, America, and may God bless us all.

Herding Cats

A naughty kitty.

Well, in this case, herding one cat!

My daughter recently picked out a pattern and some gorgeous fabric to make a quilt to show in the fair in a couple of months.  We cut out the quilt pieces this afternoon and she laid them out on the floor. This prompted our cat, who before this wanted nothing to do with the entire fabric-cutting business, to come over and lay out on the layout, so to speak. I suppose he can't wait for the finished quilt to lay on, or perhaps it's just too hot today to really lay on a real quilt.

So now the problem became how to remove said cat from the quilt parts. My daughter was eager to sew, which is very difficult to do when you have a 10-pound kitty all over your quilt pieces.  Besides which, at this point, the kitty was becoming playful and batting the pieces until they were all catty-wampus (naturally).

A very naught kitty, indeed.

To fashion a quick kitty lure, we took a wayward strip of elastic out of the sewing room.  Kitty was not fooled.  He just rolled his eyes and flicked his tail.  Not to be dissuaded, we tried a lovely section of 100% cotton blue and cream-colored yarn.  At first he seemed interested, and we got excited at the prospect of successfully getting him away from the quilt.  However, after a few seconds, it became apparent that the blue and cream-colored yarn wasn't going to cut it.  Exasperated, we finally tried a piece of ecru-colored twine.  Finally, success.  We managed to coax him off the laid out quilt with minimal damage to it, and off he went, content with something to chew on for a while.  Whew.

Of course, now he's looking at me, the twine is gone, and he's got that evil glint in his eye.  I'd better find some more twine.

Memorial Day

A dear friend of mine recently loaned me a number of books.  Among them is one I'm reading now, "Lone Survivor" by Marcus Luttrell.  Mr. Luttrell was on a Navy SEAL team who were mostly killed in Afghanistan.

I wish everyone would read this book.

I'm only about 1/3 of the way through it and so far it's mostly been a reflection on his days through boot camp and the grueling training of becoming a SEAL, with bits here and there about his team mates and a few hints of what is to come in the book when they are all faced with such brutality in the Afghan mountains.

But woven throughout this reflection is something I have a deep appreciation for and admiration of: the heart, courage, and deep love of country that those rare individuals have who serve in our military.

It's such a bittersweet thing. My heart swells with pride at being an American, sharing the same country with such astounding people. At the same time, I realize these are young men and women who sign up for this, who have so little life experience already, but who are willing to sacrifice their lives and well-being to defend our freedom.  I think of their parents and siblings and spouses who tearfully support them, probably praying every night for their safe return home.  I wish all Americans would pray for them.

On this day we have set aside to honor those who have died in service of our country, I hope we also remember those who are still serving, think of their families and loved ones, and remind ourselves that we can have such peace of mind in going about our business, knowing that this immense sacrifice has been made for our sakes.

I'm proud of my husband who served in Desert Storm.  And I'm proud of my dad who served during the Korean War.  And I'm grateful that both returned to their families after these conflicts.  I know not everyone is as fortunate.

God bless America. God especially bless and hold all who have served, are serving, and will be serving to protect us. And thank God for those who have a true Patriot's heart.

Reflections on 50

President Obama and I have something very special in common.  We were both born the same year, and later this year, we'll both be turning the big five-oh.

I've been feeling an impending dread. Not because some say the world will end today at 6pm.  I think that's silly. I have way too many quilts to make and need to watch my children grow up and have children of their own, so this end-of-the-world scenario just doesn't fit in with my plans. No, this dread has been at the prospect of turning 50.  So I am spending some time looking at this and trying to work my way around to accepting this.

I think part of the dread comes from having unfulfilled dreams. However, when I look back on what I've done so far in my life, what I've come through, it's really remarkable I'm even still here, and I have managed to accomplish enough that I can feel good about that.  If the world should end later today, I can rest assured that I've told my children at least 80,000 times that I love them, and shown them I love them as best as I can.  I've taken time to help where I could.  I've worked hard to support my family.  I have tried to be a patient and caring friend, wife, and mother.

Perhaps the dread comes from realizing that some of my dreams are probably not going to happen.  And that's probably okay.  I've managed to make my biggest dreams come true, having a home and family of my own.  Considering where I came from, I feel that this is a huge accomplishment (and I also give God huge credit for this, because it's been a rough road, and He has always been there to help me).  Given the choice between having happy, healthy kids and, say, traveling the world, I guess I'm happier with the kids part. Traveling through life with them has been an incredible trip, and there's so much more to come.  Seeing the miracle in the world all around us, through their eyes, has been so amazing, I wouldn't trade that for anything.

Perhaps some of the dread comes from having had to deal with an aging body, and facing even more things falling apart as I grow older.  But you know, I've discovered that this can be a mixed blessing.  Sure, my wrinkles grow deeper and more pronounced, but as I get older, my eyesight gets worse, so if I don't see them in the mirror, they can't really bother me, right?  Yes, it takes longer to heal, but three weeks at 50+ is kind of like two hours when I was younger, since time seems to have speeded up, so doesn't that sort of balance out now?

I think living in a culture that worships youth and vitality, and seems to be ever more resentful of older citizens, doesn't help with this whole aging thing.  However, as I face another birthday, another year behind me, I'm going to make a choice to look at my blessings, not let go of my dreams just in case I get to live them, and show my own children that getting older is okay.

Two of my oldest and dearest friends have recently celebrated their 50th birthdays.  One, I've known since Kindergarten.  And how cool is it that I've got friends I've known that long?

Today, I promise myself to turn this dread into something better.  Each wrinkle is a testament to a life lived boldly (well, mostly), each ache and pain means that I haven't wasted the body that God gave me, and each passing year means another year of enjoying my family, learning, and growth - and maybe even another fulfilled dream.