MoFiN and SooP

Saturday was the 17th anniversary of marriage to my dear, integrous, handsome, and highly talented husband, Martin.  We enjoyed a fabulous day trip to central Arizona, where we enjoyed wine tastings at Javelina Leap Vineyard & Winery and Page Springs Cellars.  Javelina Leap was more instructional and intimate.  Page Springs was more impressive, large, and put-together.  Page Springs had WAY more wines, but I think I enjoyed the experience at Javelina Leap better.

There are other wineries in the area, but we thought we’d better halt it at two. 

We also very much enjoyed an hour or more meandering around the Page Springs Fish Hatchery nature area walking on the close, wooded trails, and watching the birds in and around the ponds.  We saw a Black Phoebe, six or so Great Blue Herons, dozens of American Coots and American Widgeons, many Mallards, several White-Crowned Sparrows, and perhaps hundreds of Ruby-Crowned Kinglets, which were a new add to my life birding list.  We likely would have ID’ed more birds had we given it more time.

We spent the late afternoon and evening in old town Cottonwood, where there was a festival of some sort with a variety of interesting people, booths, music, art, and general funky, small-town atmosphere.  We bought some Peruvian wool yarn for my sister, who was staying with my girls, and had dinner at the Tavern Grille.

It was a great day.

On the drive home, we stopped for Starbuck’s and watched the moon rise over the bare hills of central Arizona.  Perfect.

When we got home, we discovered that my sister nearly died watching my girls.  Not really, but she was in tears.  Of course, she never let on about any of this while we were gone.    She requested that she never watch the girls again without the help of at least two of my boys.  We then sort of laughed over the apparent oxymoron of how it’s easier to care for five children than two.  Plus her own 15 month old daughter.  My sister Robin has a bad back, and she said that she realized that, most of the time she watches my children, she stays on the couch and gives orders to the older children, intervening when necessary.    Much easier than chasing around one-, three-, and five-year-olds, nonstop, for about twelve hours.  She was in pain and a little horrified how Audrey in particular took advantage of Robin’s less-than-availability, instead of sympathizing and helping more, especially in light of how Robin had carted Audrey around to all sorts of special things that day — a birthday party, a paint-your-own-pottery place, the park…

I felt badly for Robin, and badly about raising a daughter who isn’t appreciative of the good things provided for her.  I’m still sorting that out in my mind, and in a couple of conversations with my sister regarding parenting…

This provided a giggle, though:

When my sister was preparing dinner (“soop”), Audrey — who had attended a birthday party earlier that day with her own gluten-free cupcakes in hand — decided to petition Robin for a better dinner.  “Mofin?  Yes!  Soop?  NO!“  It’s a “sparkle muffin” with frosting and sprinkles (a.k.a. a cupcake).  Note the appropriately-placed smiley face and frowny face.

Overall, a good day.

Next time, I’ll definitely have mercy on my sister by leaving behind some helpers for her. 

Ten things I have enjoyed in the last few days

In no particular order:

1. Fiala’s second birthday.  Precious girl.  We have no pictures because my camera is totally broken now, and the grandparents forgot theirs.  We had a simple cookout party with family at the park on Saturday.  Between Friday (her actual birthday), and Saturday, she received a grand total of three presents, each simple and inexpensive… but her face is such a delight when she receives a present.  I think she really understands the heart of gift-giving, and she feels so special and thankful, no matter what the gift is, which makes it all the more delightful to give something to her.
2. Receiving new earrings in the mail.  Ordered from Mom Potter’s Etsy shop. 
3. The new Sherlock on PBS Masterpiece.  It was so wonderful!  I really enjoyed Benedict Cumberbatch (what a name!) on 2008′s The Last Enemy, aired on Masterpiece Contemporary last year, and he was even better as a 21st century Sherlock.  My husband wasn’t so convinced he’d like it — he’s a big fan of Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock portrayal.  But, about ten minutes into it, he said, “OK.  I’m hooked!”  Not giving too much away, but if you know the story of Sherlock Holmes, the one problem I had with the storyline/script is that it HIGHLY inferred that one character was so-and-so, but it turned out not to be the case, but another slightly lesser-known character.  I felt a tad manipulated, and I hate that in movies/TV shows.  Still.  It was really good.
4. The cooler weather in Phoenix. Mornings in the 60s.  Days in the 80s or occasionally a bit lower.  ~sigh~  I’ve been waiting for this!!
5. Getting a couple of bird mysteries solved, via a birding listserv I just joined.  Yes, that is a Eurasian Collared-Dove I saw;  as an introduced species, they are heading westward.  And, yes, Anna’s Hummingbirds can hybridize with Costa’s.
6. Worship on Sunday.  It was so rich, both musically, and with the presence of God.  I couldn’t even sing, half the time.  Good thing I wasn’t on stage! 
7. The author of the book I ghost-wrote signed her contract. This was after long weeks of (slow) negotiations.  She got some things altered for her benefit.  Good for her!!  Expected publication date is August 1, 2011.
8. Our “new” entertainment center.  Our TV barely fits, but it does fit!  My hubby and oldest son spent a good portion of Saturday setting it up. 
9. The Jars of Clay Greatest Hits CD.  I have a couple of their CDs.  I’ve been a somewhat-fan over the years.  And, this CD is two years old, so I’m behind… (as always, with music)  But, what a great CD this is!!  I spied it at the library, and I’ve been greatly enjoying it.  All my kids like it, too.  I’ve been belting out the songs at the top of my lungs as we’ve traveled to and fro these last couple of weeks, as I’m familiar with all but three tracks on the CD.  It’s eminently singable.  I’m not normally a huge fan of retrospective type albums, but for someone like me, who enjoys Jars of Clay, but who does not own the whole collection of their discs, it’s perfect.
10. My oldest son, Ethan.  He’s not a “thing”, but I have been so enjoying his growing-up.  He is 13.  In June, he stepped up to the youth group at our church, instead of the kids’ church…  He was unsure about the transition, but he’s really enjoying it now, and I think it has lent to his already-thoughtful nature, learning things and considering subjects that need some deeper maturity.  He’s a boy of few words, so it’s difficult to get a long conversation from him.  But, in our exchanges, I have been delighted in the evidence of his careful thought and kind consideration of those with whom (or of whom) he speaks.  He’s not perfect, of course, and there are a few things about him that make me wanna pull out my hair.  But — similar to my husband, of whom I have the same confidence — Ethan is faithful to work on the areas of his life’s garden which need weeding.  If you point out an error, he genuinely takes steps to improve, even if initially, he’s not all that receptive.  He’s a son to make a mother proud, and I love him so.

Plan D (Or, The Bagdad “Adventure”)

I have a traveling buddy.  Her name is Allison.  Allison is just the right type of companion for me:  laid back, can make fun out of almost anything, likes to drive, and has children whose company my own greatly enjoy.

All of those qualities are important, because the outings and adventures I have with my children are usually to fairly far-flung locations, and NOTHING ever goes exactly according to plan.  Normally, I am 100% OK with that;  Plan B is usually just as great as the original.  However, when I have friends with me, I get extremely nervous, because I then feel responsible that they have a good time, and that everyone’s expectations are fulfilled.

But, Allison doesn’t care, and she assured me with a laugh that, yes, even though our trip on Friday totally didn’t go as we had expected, she had a great time, and her two boys did, too, and she’s looking forward to a do-over.  Two for the price of one. 

So, here was the plan:

• Apple-picking at the organic orchards of Date Creek Ranch.
• Playing in the Santa Maria River.

Here was Plan D:

• Driving for two hours to play in a tiny town’s public pool.

Believe it or not, reality ended up being really fun.

Normally, Date Creek Ranch, a small organic farm, is open on Saturdays and Sundays in the fall.  However, when I contacted them a few weeks ago to inquire about a Friday visit, they said that could easily be arranged;  I just needed to call first.  Now, I freely admit I should have called on Monday or Tuesday.  I had no reason not to.  But, I didn’t.  I called on Thursday morning, and got their voice mail.  They didn’t return my call.  I called Friday, after we had hit the road, and again, left a message, which they never did return.  Hmph.

So, we decided that, until we heard from Date Creek Ranch, we’d go to the river first.

The Santa Maria in early November 2006

Now… after I got home, I decided to check online to see if there was some sort of info online about the Santa Maria River.  I should have done this FIRST.  Lulled by my success in finding copious amounts of water flowing in the river for trips past (see lovely pic above), we set off willy-nilly, me with no doubt that there’d be plenty of water for all.  I was disappointed and surprised — crushed, really — that there was NO WATER in the river.  None.  Not upstream, not downstream.

And, that’s just what the USGS real-time data for the Santa Maria River shows:  Zero flow, which is where it’s been at all summer, minus about two days. 

Additionally, the place where we have previously accessed the river now has barbed wire and ominous No Trespassing Private Property signs.  I’m enough of a rule-follower not to flaunt such warnings.

So, we had lunch under a hopeful-looking cottonwood tree (which also appeared to be a favorite hang-out of cows) and reassessed out situation.  We decided to go to Bagdad, which is a company copper mining town, currently entirely owned by Freeport MacMoRan.  My elder brother used to live there (he did something with the computers on the big trucks).  Additionally, Allison’s mom had recently traveled to Bagdad and raved about the mine tour she took.

So, after the failure of the apple-picking and river-playing, we decided — Plan C — to try for the tour.

Bagdad was only about ten miles, almost all on paved roads, from where we had taken our lunch.  So, we quickly arrived, and followed the signs to the mine.  When there, Allison went into the office, where she discovered that not only are tours by appointment only, they are open only to those aged nine and over, which left out my two girls.  Office Lady gave us the business card of the tour guy, and suggested that we call him, in the off-chance that he would be available.

We did, leaving a message on Tour Guy’s voicemail.  Allison and I discussed how the girls and I might be able to pass the time, should Tour Guy become available.  I was not really looking forward to passing time outside with two little girls for a couple of hours in near-record heat (it was hovering around 100°).  Allison went back inside the office to ask the Office Lady if she had any suggestions.  She highly recommended the community center, which had a pool, library, a playground, and the museum.

We had wanted to find the museum anyway.  So, off we went.  We found the community center complex in short order.  And, while the library was closed, and though the woman holding down the fort in the office would have to track down someone to unlock the museum, the pool and playground were open, and what’s more, it was all FREE!  I’m into “free”.

The playground was in excellent condition and shaded, and the pool was partially indoors.

You might possibly recall that I broke my camera’s LCD viewing screen in July, so I had no idea what my pictures were going to look like.  I also didn’t discover until minutes ago that there was a humungous smudge on the lens, right in the center.  So, my pictures, few that I took, really didn’t turn out well.  But, perhaps you can tell that the indoors part had a zero-entry toddler play area, complete with a variety of water squirters and dumpers, and the deeper part had a waterpark-style slide.  Plus, we had the run of the place:  Just two moms, seven kids, and a lifeguard who spent her time playing with her nails and texting.

The kids had a blast.

The pool closed a little more than an hour after we arrived…  After our swim, we found someone to unlock the museum (which was an interesting but haphazard collection of the 100 year history of the place).  We then went to the playground to play and have a snack — gotta love friends who, though they don’t have to be gluten-free, virtually never fail to make and bring gluten-free brownies to share.  After that, we stopped at the town’s lone grocery store (Bashas’ — I heart local stores!), got candy and cold drinks, and headed home by way of the Arizona 97, a hilly, scenic, high desert two-lane byway which I’m certain I’ve never been on in my life.

Other than me realizing about 15 miles on the far side of Wickenburg that I was about to run out of gas, necessitating that I turn around to fuel up, thereby losing an additional half-hour+, the ride home went smoothly.  We arrived a little after 6 p.m. to my smiling hubby who already had the grill going, bless him.

And then Allison’s Joel and my Wesley went down the street to collect a neighbor boy, and the boys had a sleepover for Joel & Wesley’s birthday (the two boys are birthday twins — same day, same year), and stayed up until 11 p.m.

I was beat.  Tired.  Exhausted.  Drained.

All in all, though, it was a wonderful day, made all the better by flexible friends whose company we enjoy, no matter how badly my ill-made plans fall to pieces.

Balancing the busy season

There’s a fine line, sometimes, between being refreshingly honest and complaining.  I sincerely hope I’m the former.

I really don’t like to be busy.  I don’t know if it’s that, at heart, I’m naturally lazy (I hope not), or that really, my best “work” is not that which requires activity.  I don’t know.  But, anticipating seasons like the one upon which I’m embarking can, if I let it, really stress me out and rob my joy.

I look upon this past spring and wonder how I survived.  On top of homeschooling and church, we had Little League (usually four nights a week), two weekly small groups (one for my husband, and one for me), plus a bi-weekly homeschooling art class, and a homeschooling group on the off-weeks.  Plus, all the activities and tasks which allow a family and home to function.  And an ill mother and the puzzle of my youngest daughter’s diet and health.

Fiala's current fave

Seasons like that necessitate that I be highly structured and organized, with which I have a love/hate relationship.  I get a lot done when my life is highly structured, but it…  I don’t know.  I just don’t like it.  I miss the freedom, and the opportunity to, say, respond to that little pleading, upturned face, and just sit down on the kitchen floor in the midst of dinner prep and read The Shy Little Kitten to my youngest, without the pressure of knowing what it’s going to do to our schedule, should dinner be 15 minutes late.

But, weathering this past spring gives me the courage — literally — to say, “OK.  We can do two small groups, and it’s going to be all right.  I will live and not die.”

That sounds so stupid and melodramatic, but it’s true.

My life is full of good things and blessings.  It really is.  And, it has been my observation that the enemy takes evil delight in taking our blessings and framing them – just so — in our minds so that they appear to be a detriment of one sort or another.  At least, I’m vulnerable to that:  I’m tempted to see the dark cloud behind every silver lining.  And, that’s not good.  Still, neither do I want to be dishonest and say, “I can do everything!  And it all makes me happy!  And it’s easy!  Being stretched is fun!”  Because, truly, even with all the good things in my life, sometimes it just seems like there’s too much of… something, and what I’d really rather be doing is putting my back against a shady tree beside a small stream, and reading a book with one eye, and with my other, watching my kids play.  And there’s too little of that, and too much of the other, and, frankly, I’ve not yet learned what the balance is between seeking Godly peace, and simply being lazy and self-serving and yearning for the idyllic.

Also, I’m taking into consideration:

• This week is my youngest son’s 9th birthday.  We have a day-long outing scheduled (with a couple of other families), and an overnighter with two of Wesley’s friends.  (Obligingly, another friend of mine has offered to keep my older two boys overnight with her oldest son, thus there is no net gain of children.)
• This week, we do start the small group/kinship season again, which, in many ways, is always so wonderful.  I’m truly glad, each week, when I look into the faces of those in group with me, and I hear the teaching — which frequently is just what I needed to hear — and I participate in discussion, and ministry, and even leading worship (which I really, really love)…  I so often think, “I am so pleased to be able to be here.”  Yet, the logistics of making it happen can nearly tip me over the edge.  One weekly night, my husband stays home with our dear passel of children, and on another night, I stay home while he does the same thing at his group.  Each scenario has its challenges.
• This week, we started having my parents back over for dinner.  For literally a decade, my mother and stepdad have been coming over for a weekly dinner.  But, this past year saw a dramatic decrease in that, both because of me being distraught over Fiala’s health and how to feed her (I’m not distressed over that anymore, but she still is difficult to feed, and I have adjusted myself to making two meals, every mealtime)… and my mother’s health has been in serious decline, with three major hospital stays over the last year.  My mother and I also had a row a couple of months ago, our first in years and years, the end of which had her proclaiming that she never wanted to talk with me again.  That was distressing.  My stepdad and I came to the conclusion that it was her ill health “talking”, which is so odd, because my mother has forever been resolute and reasonable.  It’s very unlike her to be changeable and petulant.  But, bless God for that, because after sending me a few peace offerings (which is also unlike her) of a number of gluten-free grocery/convenience items, plus a good book, she asked if we couldn’t, please, start our dinners back up.  HOW COULD I SAY NO??!?? I couldn’t.  I can’t!  I don’t want to.  I dearly want to spend that time with my parents.  Dearly.  Yet, it’s one more thing on the plate, so to speak.  This Monday, just my stepdad came over, as my mother is in Illinois with her mother.  Same with this coming Monday.  After that, it will be the two of them, but only once every other week.
• And, literally weighing on me is the fact that I’ve put on 25 lbs since January, and am now back to my pre-pregnancy (before Fiala) weight.  That’s not a good thing.  I am very uncomfortable with myself, literally, yet after a year+ of living on a hyper-restricted diet for her sake, it’s hard to Just Say No to chocolate chips.    But, I have decided that I have to do something so the weight doesn’t keep piling on, and that’s difficult, because I’m not a dieter, yet I’m aware that I simply can’t stay the way I am right now.  I haven’t yet figured out exactly what I’m going to do.
• And, I’m in the midst of… distilling… choosing… seeking some wisdom from my Father… about some direction for my life for the next couple of years (at least)… and it’s unclear…  I’ve been meaning to fast, but I keep forgetting!  After about five solid years of either being pregnant or nursing, I got out of the habit.  Now, it’s like, “OK.  I need to fast.  Monday.  No, that won’t work.  Parents over for dinner.  OK.  Tuesday.  Tuesday it is!” then Tuesday happens and I forget until mid-morning after two cups of coffee, a banana, some almonds, and a bowl of granola.  Etc.  So, I need to figure that out, too. 

And other stuff.

I really just need God.  I need His presence, I need His peace, His wisdom, His priorities, His heart, even His energy…

I closed another recent post with this same thing, but it is so on my heart:

Oh, how great are God’s riches and wisdom and knowledge!  How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his ways!  For who can know the Lord’s thoughts?  Who knows enough to give him advice?  And who has given him so much that he needs to pay it back?  For everything comes from him and exists by his power and is intended for his glory. All glory to him forever! Amen.  Romans 11:33-36 NLT

Weekend Update with Karen Joy (book-writing, flu, grout, glassware, birthing, friends, birthdays, sleepovers…)

This has been a good week.

• I’m working with my friend to submit her manuscript to a variety of publishers, rather working like an (inexperienced) agent.  One down, others yet to come.  It’s exciting, and quite the learning experience.  The Christian Writer’s Market Guide is my close friend.  If you’re a pastor and have some interest in seeing prophetic art implemented in your church, or are already a published author, and are willing to review the manuscript and write an endorsement, leave a comment or e-mail me.
• We are OVER being sick.  Four of the seven of us (including myself) got the flu this past week.  Even “just” 8-12 hours is a long time, when one or more people are puking.
• I have worked hard this week on scrubbing five years of accumulated black gunk from about 800 square feet of ceramic tile grout.  It feels very satisfying to have it done.  I cleaned it with a paste of baking soda and water, scrubbed with a big scrub brush and an old toothbrush, then rinsed it three times both by hand, and with the bare floor function of my (Craigslist) carpet shampooer.  The results are like night and day.

• 

  Above the microwave. Still needs a plant of some sort on the right hand side…

  I was thinking this week, how I’d really like to infuse my home with some additional/ better/ updated decorating, especially my kitchen and bathrooms.  However, we don’t have the budget for it.  So, I prayed.  Literally, less than 24 hours later, someone offered some “decorative glassware” on Freecycle.  The location of the offerer’s home coincided with a grocery store to which I needed to go.  The glassware had a good 10 years of grease and pet hair gummed to their exteriors, and I was more than a tad grossed out.  However, I attacked them with baking soda and dishwashing liquid, refilled some of them (with white vinegar & small, fresh rosemary branches, or dried beans), repaired one of them, and they look like new.  Ten large jars, many bearing original price tags from Cost Plus and Pier One, for a total of at least $100 worth.  I combined the jars with other things I already had… I’m really pleased with the outcome.   God answers even silly prayers, and is so ready to bless His children!

• I am now the mother of a teenager.  My oldest, Ethan, turned 13 on June 23.  I love him so;  he is such a blessing to our family, and I greatly anticipate seeing God continue to mature him, and to see how he grows…  I really enjoy him as a person, as a son.  (I had a birthday, too, but at this point, they aren’t quite as celebratory as they used to be.)
• My friend Annie came over on Thursday, with her now-4 week old baby boy.  She came over after a nearby La Leche League support meeting (good for her!).  We spent time discussing her birth, with me reassuring her that she did great (she really did), even though the outcome wasn’t quite what she wanted.  She didn’t anticipate how pressured she would feel by the suggestions of the doctor and nurses, plus she had been so exhausted from 3 days of back labor, accompanied by virtually no sleep…  I assured her that for most EVERY birth, there is *something* that the mother wished had gone differently, that she had handled better, that had turned out more pleasing, etc., and that rather than beating herself up about it now, just file it away and say, “Next time, I now know I want to….”  She concluded that if she had another child, she would birth at home. 
• My dear son Wesley is going to a sleepover tonight.  This is just the second mother in our history who has braved Wesley’s food and health difficulties, and I am giddy with pleasure both for Wesley, and in the mother herself.  We spent 20+ minutes on the phone discussing menu plans and other accommodations.  Honestly, I think it is her history as an elementary public school teacher that makes her so ready and experienced to do whatever it takes to keep Wes safe, and I’m really thankful for that.

Out of the mouths of ba… almost-4yo girls

This morning, Audrey balked when I announced what was for breakfast.  I must admit, I pretty much ignored her, as she protests anything that isn’t lollipops or smothered in jam.  “I don’t want that!” she wailed, “I can’t eat it!”

When I put the plate of skillet-grilled toast, in which I had cut a hole and cooked an egg, in front of her, she looked puzzled.  Then, with visible relief and a nervous giggle, she explained, “Oh!  I thought it was a real toad!”

Wesley, age 8, sagely told her that “Toad in a Hole” was just a name.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later, as I was braiding her hair, in order to win her cooperation, I said, “It would really help if you could be as still as a statue.”

Sweetly, she protested, “But, Mom, I can’t, because you’re wobbling my head.”

I burst out laughing.  “You’re right.  I am wobbling your head.”

“Repeat!” she exclaimed.  (Lately, when someone does or says something that she particularly likes, she hollers, “Repeat!” makes a squeaky rewind sound, and tries to immediately re-create the situation.  I have tried to explain that it never has quite the same effect, the second time around.)  Mimicking herself, “But, Mom, I can’t because you’re wobbling my head.”  — pause — “OK, now, Mom, you start laughing again really hard.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Another gem:  “I sure am happy it’s almost my birthday, because on birthdays, I can get everything I ever wanted.”    This, she says to the mother who gave her for Christmas:

1. An upcycled doll high chair and crib.  I literally got it for FREE from Freecycle, repainted it, washed the crib’s canopy, and sewed new ribbons on it.
2. A pair of $25 Skechers (very expensive for us), to which I hot-glue-gunned rhinestones, because I wouldn’t pay the $40 for real Twinkle Toes.
3. Nothing else.

I do not know where she has gotten this “everything I ever wanted” idea.  When I tried to dissuade her, she protested, “But you’re just joking.”  Part of me is delighted in her faith in birthdays and in her parents’ provision, part of me is dreading her potential heartbreak when reality does not match the dream, and part of me balks at her sense of entitlement.  I’m not sure which sentiment is winning, at the moment.

Four scarves, three tiaras, my heels, and a "ballet" dress from Grandma. All at once. With a spontaneous catwalk pose.