Out of Context 101

My mother discovered she really does have rain sensing wipers!

Hero

Perhaps you have seen the preschool cartoon show "Little Bear"on Noggin tv. If not, you need to watch one episode, just one and you will meet one of my role models. It's Mother Bear. Here's what I love about Mother Bear.
1. She talks in the same, patient, loving manner as Mr. Rogers (always).
2. She always looks on the bright side or has something "positive" to say.
3. She loves to bake and always has muffins or cookies ready for Baby Bear or Father Bear.
4. She never wears make-up.
5. She is not thin.
6. She smiles alot.
7. She wears frumpy clothes, including aprons. If she has to go out, she puts on a hat.
8. She patiently teaches Little Bear a valuable life lesson in every fifteen minute episode.

Poetry in Octanes

When I am surrounded by these four beautiful, wonderful, inquisitive children, it can become hard to find a moment to complete a thought. The mental sentence always ends mid-thought. I have to: wipe a nose, zip a coat, find a shoe, clean a shoe, find a sock, tie a shoe, brush some hair, straighten glasses, help someone go potty, look at a cool rock, put a dandelion behind an ear, give a hug, give a kiss, give a stern look....I recently read that during a typical day, a three year old child will have a need once every three minutes...times that by twins, add an almost-five-year-old and a six-year-old who loves to play monopoly. I realize this paragraph has been interrupted sixteen times, thus far. Henceforth, I usually "think" in those groggy, exhausted moments between nine and ten, when the children are asleep and the husband has important things to remind me about. By 10:30, I am asleep and all thinking is relegated to dreamland. However, I have said all this to say, that the body has accomodated, or acclimated, or adapted by thinking deep thoughts at very strange alone times.
For instance, while pumping gas, I discovered a deep thought. Yes, the prices are outrageous, but for a few precious moments, I am alone. Seperated from the chldren by the frame of the car, watching the numbers roll, glancing around at the weather, smiling at strangers, feeling the wind, wondering why the octane numbers seem so familiar. Yes, the octane numbers. Those yellow squares with the black numbers. 87 89 93. Did you know I can measure my life in octanes?
I mentioned this to a friend. Puzzled, she asked, "Is that poetry?" I realized I had spoken out of context again. I come by this naturally. My mother does it all the time, leaving you to wonder what she's talking about. We recently watched a World War 2 documentary with her and she suddenly says, "I don't have rain sensing wipers and I thought I would!" We all just stared at her. We had no idea.
Ah, the octanes. 87... That's1987 for me. The year my life began. No, I wasn't born then. I was fifteen. I took driver's training. I had my first real haircut. I got my braces off. I traded in the coke-bottom bottle glasses for contact lenses. It was a Cinderella year. I met my best friend ever, I met the man I would marry. All in one life changing octane..I mean, year.
89...I spent most of 1989 grounded. It was my senior year of high school. I crashed and totalled my car. Ryan and I broke up and got back together at least four times in 1989. His younger brother died of leukemia in January of that year and it wa my cancer-ridden grandparents last journey to Michigan for my graduation. (they died in 90 and 91). In 1989, I turned 18 and I started college in a different state. At last I was an adult, I had arrived.
And 1993. The year of the weddings. While Ryan and I dated on again off again for six years, he proposed in 92 (I did say yes), our friends got engaged and married before us Finally, on OCt. 2, 1993, we stated our vows before God, pledged our lives to one another and to God's glory and on we moved into wedded bliss. I mean, we committed to the hard work, diligent communication, mutual frustrations and joys we were certain the journey of marriage would entail. We'll be married 15 years this October. Wow that was fast.
So there's my life in octanes. Perhaps an eight line form of poetry containing reference to one's life journey would be better. I'll have to work on that one.

Our Computer is Down and Out

Yes, I am typing this at the library while my children are hopefully playing. I can't see them good from here so if I leave suddenly, you'll know why. (Hee, hee). According to our local and extraordinarily talented computer guru, our computer is in need of a mother. You know, everybody needs a mother. Someone to love, comfort, guide...wait a minute! I didn't mean mother, I meant motherboard. Sheesh!
Anyway, here are my five things. (thank you God, for...)
1. Library internet access.
2. Children who come when called. (Hallelujah!)
3. A sleeping child.
4. A good friend to cry with. ( she makes great coffee, too.)
5. Puppets at the library

Five Things to be Grateful for

1. The sound of your grandma laughing.
2. The sweet smell of chocolate no-bake cookies Grandma makes.
3. All the old photos you can look through with Grandma and find out who people were.
4. The sight of my children hugging Grandma.
5. The taste of hot coffee while sitting at Grandma's table.
(Guess where I went today).

The Perfect Mother's Day

It all began with breakfast. Yes, breakfast. But not breakfast in bed. I wanted some solitude. So I went to IHOP. (IHOP?) yes, that's right. The International House of Pancakes. I adore pancakes and their chocolate, chocolate chip pancakes with whip cream on top are my favorite.

There was a 45 minute wait. At 9:30 in the morning. I put in my request for a table for one. That stopped the hostess for a moment. The room was filled with mothers and various family members, and I wanted a table for one? She flatly told me "45 minutes". I smiled, "That would be great." She did not smile back.

Not to be daunted, I purchased the actual Sunday paper. I rarely read anything beyond children's books, the Bible, and parenting books, so it was a real treat for me. I read for over an hour before they called my table for one. Mothers with small, hungry, bored children stared on with envy as I settled in to my lone booth. I took my time, I got comfortable. I spread out the paper. My waiter apologized for taking so long to get to me. I smiled, "No problem," and I ordered. He brought coffee back. (my very own pot! I love IHOP!) I read for another 40 minutes or so. He came and apologized. They got my order wrong. "That's fine, " I smiled, "I'm in no hurry." He did not smile back.

Not to be daunted, I kept reading and enjoying myself. He brought my pancakes. I ate them slowly, enjoying each bite. Do you know pancakes are actually served hot? I had more coffee, I read more articles, I relaxed. I headed out a little while later, leaving a nice tip for my waiter. I was shocked when I turned on the car and the clock said 11:55. I had been to breakfast since 9:15. Wow.

I made my way home, driving carefully as the rain came down. We need the rain anyway. It refreshes the grass. It cleanses the land and makes us appreciate the next day's rain-washed brilliance. Some days as a mom can be quite rainy. Some days are quite thunderstormy (if I can turn that into an adjective), but I am not alone in the storm. He who calms the storm calms my beating heart as well. I am a believer in Jesus. Christ in me, the hope of glory. While some days may be wet and dark and cold, that rain-washed brilliance will come. Could we truly appreciate the sunshine without the rain? As a friend pointed out, beautiful windchimes would have no song if not for the blowing wind.

Arriving home, I found a quiet house so I crawled under the covers for about 10 minutes until I heard little voices and little feet coming up the stairs. "We got you something mom! Guess." this from my six-year-old detective. "It's purple!" added my little girl, "That's a HINT," she explained to the detective. "It's POWERS!" declared Mark the moment he entered the room.

"Are they special?" Everyone nodded. "I could use some special powers." "No, they're flowers!" the older two explained as Ryan entered with these beautiful flowers.

I hope all you moms reading this had a WONDERFUL mother's day. (Also, my heart goes out to all those would-be moms. Ryan and I struggled with infertility for 6 years and mother's day was a sad, hard day for me. A day when those who meant well felt sorry for me and those who knew my heart prayed for me. So if you know a would-be mom, keep praying for her heart, especially on Mother's Day.)

NIght sounds

Are you a fan sleeper? I mean, do you HAVE to have a fan to sleep? I am a fan sleeper by marriage only, and occasionally, I miss those night sounds. A train's whistle from far away, the whoosh of cars on wet pavement, crickets, or the "who-cooks-for-you?" of the owl. Instead, I get "hmmmmmmmmmmm...." But my husband's rest is important. Ryan is an early riser and is out of bed before 5:30. That's when the fan goes off. He opens the window a bit and every morning this week, I have heard the joyous cacophony of the birds welcoming the sunrise. It's been so nice...

Five things

Five Things to Be Grateful For:

1. Children who love to play outside.
2. Little boy kisses. (Lucas likes to kiss first one cheek and then the other. He will manually turn my head to do this. It's quite entertaining.)
3. The patience the Holy Spirit provides me.
4. Going to the bank with Tim to look at an actual $100.00 bill to check if Ben Franklin is really on it. ("Mom, why don't we have $100.00 bills?" Hee, hee.)
5. A husband who ministers to others.