Amen

Ecclesiastes

Ready for Adventure Club (AKA Children’s Church) this morning!

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-14
A Time for Everything

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

We are the champions. Or something.

My dear friend got me thinking with her post last week. Have you read it yet? Go ahead – I’ll wait. You need the context, trust me.

I’m a champion for respect too – in theory, at least. I do my part, and I hope that you do yours. Where I fall short is the speaking up. When you behave badly, I’m more likely to stew in silence than to verbally call you on it.

I’m not sure why this is. I think it’s more polite to suffer in silence than to speak up and risk offending? I’m afraid of getting shot? (I live in the south, so both are pretty plausible) Whatever the reason, it’s the way I roll. But I really admire people like Darcie, who speak up.

I was channeling her energy last week at one of Annie’s shows. She was in The Wizard of Oz this summer, so I spent a great deal of time in an outdoor amphitheater in the heat and humidity, squeezed in with 1458 of my friends and neighbors, since all but one show were complete sell-outs. I found that it was mostly just neighbors, since the rude factor was so high I couldn’t possibly be friends with those people.

Last Thursday night during the show, I actually texted Darcie to tell her how much I wished she were there. The women behind us were talking and ohmygoodness singing along through the whole show, and I thought I might lose my mind. Had I only known then what I would encounter on Saturday night, I’d have been grateful they were just talking.

Saturday, you see, brought the screaming child, and the baby talking family members. I don’t blame the child. I’m guessing she was about 1, which means she has a perfectly valid reason for her behavior. Her mother, on the other hand…

Parents of the world, here’s a tip for you. Don’t take a baby to a play that ends near midnight. Your child will be exhausted and miserable, and you will miss the whole play because of it.

Or at least you should miss the whole play because of it. If you’re the woman who sat behind me on Saturday, you won’t miss a second, because you’ll keep your butt planted firmly in your seat whilst your child screams bloody murder, ruining the show for everyone else.

You will ignore her kicking the back of my seat. You’ll allow her to pull my hair and pat my back with her sticky red fingers. You’ll share your diet soda with her and try to ply her with popcorn and maybe shake a teddy bear in her face when she cries, begging you to leave. You’ll tell the women you’re with that she’ll eventually scream herself to sleep, and then you’ll allow her to do so for two-and-a-half hours, while you sit 10 feet from the stage. And she never will fall asleep. Shocking, I know.

Because of the situation behind me, I elected to sit on the very edge of my seat, safely out of the child’s reach, and moving my ears ever so slightly farther away from her piercing wail. About twenty minutes before the play’s end, I’d lost my coping abilities. The child’s cry was escalating (as was my headache) and so my mom and I moved a few feet away, to sit on the edge of a rock wall. A few minutes later, for the first and only time of the night, the woman finally decided to take the child out.

Or so we thought. Instead, she left her seat – and came to stand directly beside us instead. For reals.

Naturally we went back to our seats.

When the show ended – the last last of the season – we started on to the stage to shower my girl with hugs and presents. Suddenly I hear Granny behind me, angrily shouting ‘Good riddance!’ in our direction.

Are you *kidding* me?

Apparently even I have my limits. I turned and smiled and shouted back ‘We feel exactly the same way, lady!’

And then I immediately felt like a moron for dignifying her with a response at all.

We talked to Annie for a few minutes, and then we she went to change out of her costume my mom turned around to discover that the women were still standing there, shouting and gesturing in our general direction. Um, crazy much?

I had a lot of things I’d love to have said to them, but restraint is more my thing. So instead, I did what will from here on be referred to as ‘pulling a Darcie’, and I whipped out my camera phone.

Oh yes I did.

I walked several steps closer to them so that I was out of the crowd, and what I was doing what very obvious. I held my bright blue phone up above my head, pointed it directly at them, and I began snapping away.

The jerks? They ran.

No surprise.

In the interest of complete honesty, I will tell you that rather than feeling satisfied after this exchange, I felt petty.

But it was pretty funny.

And I have the [blurry] pictures to prove it.

Actually, you’re *not* special

This is something I try to teach my children. Sounds terrible, right? But I think you should teach it to your kids, too. Looking around our society, I see plenty of adults who were never taught that lesson, and the results? They’re not good.

Case in point – traffic. Oh my goodness do the drivers of the world need to hear this. You are not special, people! We all have places to go and schedules to keep, and unless you’ve got freshly harvested organs in your car and you’re rushing to a children’s hospital, you’re not special. You need to sit and wait your turn, just like everyone else. Don’t drive down to the end of a lane you know is merging, then swerve in at the last second, cutting everyone else off. You are no more important than the rest of us.

About to miss your turn? Then you need to drive down to the next light and turn around and go back. You, know, since you are the one that screwed up and all. You don’t need to sit there blocking traffic, waiting for 2 lanes to clear so you can illegally turn from the middle lane just to save yourself 90 seconds of turning around and going back.

In parking lots where there’s lots of traffic – think just after church, or during school pick-ups – you need to wait in line. Patiently. Stop looking for empty parking spaces to cut through and work your way up 3 cars. Especially after church, this is a real jackleg move. Just wait your turn.

This mindset is what my dad calls ‘Hooray for me and the heck with you’.

And traffic isn’t the only place you’ll encounter it, either. Hooray for the lady in the grocery store with a cart full of stuff, and the heck with the man behind her who has to wait 10 minutes to buy his loaf of bread. She was there first!

I use this as an example because I think we, my fellow women of the world, are the worst offenders. Women act so entitled these days it’s sickening. No wonder chivalry is dead – we killed it with our own attitude of entitlement. No one wants to hold the door for someone who walks right through without a thank you - just ask my friend Darcie.

So I try to teach my kids that they aren’t special.

God made us all unique, there’s only one irreplaceable you, you’re amazing, yada, yada, yada. Sure. I’m down with that.

But special as in ‘the rules don’t apply to you’? No way.

I apply this rule to things like prayer at graduation.  You don’t believe in God? Fine. But it’s not going to hurt you to sit down and shut up and let someone else believe out loud. You can even think how silly it is the whole time in your head – no need to call the ACLU for your imagined slight.

Somewhere along the way – and I dare say it was when The Greatest Generation raised The Baby Boomers – we came to believe that individual rights can trump those of a group. That every thought and feeling we have is so profoundly important, we have the right – nay, the obligation – to shout it from the rooftops. And we’re hypersensitive to boot. We believe we’re special.

While discussing the new ‘debt deal’ (tongue. biting.) someone recently commented that everyone wants to make cuts, but no one wants the cuts to affect them. It’s true, in all aspects of our lives. We all think that a vague ‘something’ should be done somewhere, but few people feel the obligation to start with themselves. (When’s the last time you sent in a little extra with your taxes, just to help out?)

So this is me, at home, doing my part. Following the rules of common courtesy and basic respect. Teaching my kids that we’re just like everyone else.

Except better drivers.

I’m definitely a better driver.

Breaking my silence

Whew! I’m glad that is over. I’ve had a lot to say, and no way to say it!

I took a hiatus, as you may have noticed. I promised myself that I’d take the summer off and completely enjoy my precious children, and enjoy them I did.

While I was gone, there were trips taken and memories made. Swimming and slip-n-sliding and many, many popsicles eaten. A few Big Moments, but mostly lots of little ones, which are precisely my favorite kind of moments.

A few highlights:

~The day I treated everyone to a strawberry limeade, and while we were in the drive-thru line Annie asked me if I could roll down her window. There was a bus parked nearby that was unloading soldiers, and she leaned out the window to call to those passing by. “Thank you for keeping our country safe!” My heart swelled. This is a very good kid.

~Catie? No longer shy. In the slightest. She talks 90 miles an hour to anyone who will listen, telling perfect strangers about our dinner plans or her loose tooth or the play that her sister is in. The child is Out There in a big way these days, which is something I wasn’t sure would ever happen, given her previous inclination to hide under my skirt in pretty much any social situation.

~It’s too early to be sure, but it seems Lilly, at four-and-a-half, may finally have gotten the hang of putting her shoes on the right feet. Everyone please find something wooden to knock on, so we don’t spoil it. This has been a long journey – the child even wore flip flops on the wrong feet, with the strap between the wrong toes. It pains me just to think of it.

~The county fair! I know many people mock them, but I really love ours. The girls and I do lots of baking and sewing and drawing and flower cutting and photograph taking, and we enter as many categories as we can. The result? Lots of ribbons, and enough prize money to pay for our night at the fair. This year Annie and Catie were tall enough to ride lots of things they’ve never ridden before, and they were delighted! A very good, very late night was had by all.

We’ve enjoyed tea parties and day trips and lots and lots of craft projects. There’s been a lot of staying up late and very little sleeping in, and s’mores on more than one occasion.

Lightning bugs were caught, stars were wished upon, and a little camping was done.

And every day, I was very, very thankful to have these precious girls to spend it with.

I am blessed beyond measure.

Why I’m not celebrating

I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now. After 9 1/2 years of pursuit, Usama Bin Laden has been declared killed by US Forces. I watched the television coverage late into the night, with very mixed emotions.

I am glad that he’s not ‘out there’ anymore. I’m not even mourning his death, really. But I cannot stomach the celebrations that I’m witnessing.

Let me say right now that I consider our military personnel separately from what I’m about to say. Their story is not our own. Their emotional attachment to this news is and deserves to be  on a different level. I understand something of their relief and their satisfaction at a job done. Something.

But for those who have done mostly nothing…those average Americans who sit at home day after day, living their comparatively cushy lives, risking nothing and sacrificing nothing…for them – because of them – I feel saddened. Weary. Ashamed.

UBL did evil things. Few would argue with that. The world is probably a [marginally] safer place without him in it…though I don’t for one moment deceive myself enough to think there aren’t hundreds more radicals lined up to take his place.

I’m not sorry he is gone.

But I’m very, very sorry that another soul has been lost.

By earthly standards, Usama Bin Laden was about as bad as it gets. He was ‘less than’ me.

But by God’s standards? He was another child. A child just like me.

A child loved and lost.

I cannot allow myself to lose sight of that, and I cannot bring myself to celebrate something so contrary to the heart of God.

I don’t generally like to hear scripture quoted in a context like this. It can seem so self-righteous, and that’s not my intent. But in the hopes that it might give you pause, or reason to look at this victory in a new light…

Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice, or the Lord will see and disapprove, and turn His wrath away from them. ~Proverbs  24:17

As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign Lord, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked. ~Ezekiel 33:11

From my feed, Facebook statuses from the past 10 hours:

‘Good News. Osama Bin Laden is in hell.’

‘Wish we had footage we could all watch on tv, Al-Jazeera style’

‘We should have a parade with his head on a stick’

‘Earthquake warning: Bin Laden is in hell and even they don’t want him.’

‘They should strap a bomb to him and blow his body to bits, let the pieces rain down over the whole [bleep] country’

Nice.

Oh and of course the numerous ‘Ding Dong Bin Laden’s dead’ posts. Cheering the fact that he’s gone ‘below, below, below, yo-ho!’

Awesome.

I’m very sorry that this nation, despised for its arrogance in much of the world, will now be making international headlines for our celebration in the streets. Much like they celebrated the terrorist attack that started all of this. Much like I imagine they would celebrate the assassination of our President. And we would be sickened by their celebrations, wouldn’t we? Because it’s evil. Because we’re above that.

Except when the shoe is on the other foot, apparently. Then we’re able to appreciate the differences.

‘But we’re the good guys!’

Right. The good guys.

Who, in that moment, don’t actually look all that different from the ‘bad guys’

Perception is reality.

Remember that while you celebrate.

Conduct yourself accordingly.

We did what needed to be done, but we don’t have to delight in it.

I take no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Sovereign Lord. ~Ezekiel 18: 32

And…the job is not done.

Hallelujah!

 

¹ On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. ² They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³ but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. ⁴ While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. ⁵ In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? ⁶ He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ⁷ ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ” ⁸ Then they remembered his words.   ~Luke 24: 1-8

Why do you look for the living among the dead? He has risen!

May the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ be celebrated in our hearts, today and always.

He. Has. Risen.

Praise the Lord!

Happy Easter, my friends!

Review: GIANTmicrobes

Recognize any of these guys?

I didn’t either.

And in fact, when the company contacted me I initially wrinkled up my nose. Why in the world would anyone want those? I wondered. But several days later, a conversation with my science-loving daughter made realize that perhaps she would be interested, and so I wrote back and agreed to review their products.

But let’s back up.

What are GIANTmicrobes?

Directly from the company’s website:

GIANTmicrobes^® are stuffed animals that look like tiny microbes — only a million times actual size! They’re humorous, educational, and fun!

Each of our GIANTmicrobes^® comes with an image and information about the real microbe it represents. They make great learning tools, as well as amusing gifts for anyone with a sense of humor.

I can see some possibilities here. Especially in doctor’s offices. Or for chronically sick children. Gee, if I only I knew one of those…

I received two GIANTmicrobes in the mail -  A plush ‘flu’ (aka orthomyxovirus) and a vinyl Ahhh-lbert (aka streptococcus).

I will tell you right off the bat that I much prefer the vinyl. I’m not exactly a germaphobe, but when we’re talking about toys to teach you about illness, I think they should be easily cleaned, and plush just aren’t. Especially for doctor’s office usage, vinyl is the clear choice.

Vinyl is also more fun.

Although I sort of thought he resembled a sword swallower (and maybe that just adds to the fun?), the girls got quite a kick out of the swab in the throat. They liked reading about the germs and this encouraged them to do even more reasearch on the where it comes from and the whys and the healing process. And interestingly enough, when Catie had to have her throat swabbed a few weeks later, she sat perfectly still for the process and didn’t even utter a complaint. A first for us, since my kids all despise the throat swab.

From that one instance alone I could say that GIANTmicrobes worked for us!

But with so many different varieties available, I can see many others that would be useful as well. For example, we’re trying to diagnose Catie’s chronic stomach pain right now. Perhaps a vinyl Bellie (aka shigella – stomach ache) would be nice for her to take to the various hospitals and specialists with her. He could keep her company while being tested, and doctors could use him to explain the testing to her.

Or  how about the kid with chronic ear infections? He might benefit from the plush ‘ear ache’ (aka streptococcus pneumoniae), as he could squeeze it tightly when the pain comes, and doctors could use it to explain to him why it hurts, or how getting tubes in his ears will help.

Pretty much whatever the ailment, they have a bug to go with it.

And as an end result of this review, I’m sold. It’s an unusual concept that I admit I thought was pretty weird, but after having them in our house I can definitely see the uses. For my chronically ill Catiebug, GIANTmicrobes are a concrete tool to help her understand what is happening and why. And as any mother of a sick kid will tell you, we’re willing to try a lot of weird things to help our babies.

***Full disclosure – I was approached by GIANTmicrobes and asked to review their products. I received two free products to facilitate this review. I was not financially compensated, and the opinions contained in this post are my own, not purchased with plush germs.***

Nutella Party – the real scoop

Thanks to Mommy Parties, I hosted a Nutella breakfast party last week.

They provided me with some swag for all the moms in attendance, as well as breakfast ideas and tips for incorporating Nutella into your routine.

A few of the recipes were unappealing to me, but the one that grabbed my children’s attention was the breakfast waffle sandwich. Fresh strawberries, blueberries, and grated coconut sandwiched between 2 waffles smeared with the chocolate hazelnut spread – what’s not to like?  The kids were in heaven.

Also a hit? Nutella on croissants.

I was also given a set of tips for serving a healthy breakfast to your family, and how Nutella can help you achieve that goal.

Caution – honest opinion, coming up!

This is where I think the product goes astray. The marketing.

The literature says that Nutella is part of a healthy breakfast. ‘And what else is part of that breakfast?’ you may wonder. Well. Whole grain bread, fruit, 2% milk…you know, nutritious foods. So what does Nutella contribute to that breakfast? Apparently nothing, save incentive to eat it.

And I suppose that’s all well and good.

But you know what else will get your kids to eat that breakfast? No. other. alternatives.

I buy whole wheat bread in this house. Skim milk. Lots of fruit. And when you want toast, you eat whole grains. When you want a snack, you eat fruit. You want a bowl of cereal, you use skim milk. Period. I’m the mom, I’m in charge. I do the shopping and the preparing, and you do the sitting down and the eating. I am not a short order cook. I do not give you whatever you want. I give you what is good for you, and you can eat it or you can eat nothing.

This method has not yet starved to death any member of my family.

So is Nutella necessary? Not in a house where the parents are in charge.

Is it good? According to child testers, yes indeed.

But my hangup is this: a single, 2 tablespoon serving of Nutella has 200 calories and 11 grams of fat.

For 138 calories and 10 grams of fat I could have 3 strips of bacon.

For 190 calories and 1 gram of fat I could have an everything bagel.

See where this is going? Nutella is just not a good calorie exchange in my book. It’s also 5 Weight Watchers Points. Ouch. {No clue about the new Points Plus thing – sorry}

I’m not bashing Nutella – truly I’m not. If you’re into sweets, I’m sure you’d love it. My oldest daughter loves it, and would be happy to eat chocolate toast at pretty much any moment. And I do give it to her…on whole wheat bread, as a dessert. It’s far too high in calories and fat to be anything else.

Would I recommend Nutella? Sure. It was a hit with the sweet eaters in my house, and I am not overly restrictive on treats.

Would I call it, as they do, ‘part of a healthy breakfast’? Not a chance. Healthy comes from the other things in your breakfast, so do yourself and your kids a favor and learn to eat the good stuff without smearing it in chocolate.

It’s a good lesson.

***I was invited to host a Nutella party through Mommy Parties. They provided me with a large jar of Nutella to serve, as well as gift bags and lots of goodies to share with 10 guests. My opinions here are honest – I cannot be bought. Not for Nutella, anyway.***

How to Paper Mache

AKA – titles still not getting any better

Yesterday I mentioned the paper mache lanterns I made for Annie’s Tangled-themed birthday party. Several people told me that they didn’t know how to paper mache, so I thought I’d post a quick tutorial. It is super-duper easy, cheap, and fun to do!

Decide on the shape you want. You can use a balloon to make a circle (or 3 balloons to make a Mickey Mouse head!). Since I wanted lanterns, I used an oatmeal container for my ‘mold’.

I started by taping a piece of parchment paper to the outside:

Next, you’ll make a mixture of flour, corn starch, and slightly warm water. Equal parts of the dry ingredients, and then slowly add enough water to make a thin gravy-like consistency.

For the lanterns, I used torn strips of white paper because I wanted them to be transparent. If you will be painting your creation, feel free to use newsprint.

Dip a strip of paper into the paste, and use your fingers to slide off the excess flour mixture.

Gently press the strip onto your mold

And then repeat, with a slight overlap of edges.

Once you have one solid layer, allow to dry. This can be done overnight, or if you’re in a hurry, with the aid of a hair dryer.

For my lanterns, I used only 2 layers. For a pinata, I’d recommend 3-5 layers, depending on how strong your little batters will be.

Once the first layer is dry, add your second layer. To make the Tangled lanterns pictured yesterday, I then pressed a layer of pale yellow tissue paper onto the damp outside of the mold.

And then gently slide off of the container

to finish drying while you work on the next one.

I used this same method to make the pinata, and then topped with a cone shape to resemble the tower.

Pardon my creative mess in the background.

And there you have it – easy-peasy paper mache!

I’m going to be using this same method to create larger-than-life gumdrops for Catie’s Candyland party in a few weeks. Stay tuned!