We decided to have the younger three run a lap of ITBS this year. It's not a required element of our homeschooling, and we generally don't do any standardized testing until they take the CLT and the ACT. I thought, though, that this was a good time to get a general overhead snapshot of about where we are, how we're doing, and what I may have completely spaced covering so far. Plus, I've had a sinking feeling that they may have all lost five or six years of learning during the cancer years, and I needed a sanity check.
The Littles were not thrilled. But they didn't die, so they're fine.
The results were about what I expected. They know a lot about the things we discuss in general. They aren't as strong in the things they actively avoid. We have surprisingly few non-mechanical pencils in the house. We also discovered that we are really not good at remembering to pack lunches.
Overall, the testing didn't really tell me anything I didn't already know or suspect, so that was good. (I always worry that I'm oversimplifying the process, or being a bit overly optimistic about our progress. Nobody wants to graduate a homeschooler only to discover after the fact that it was not, in fact, a great education. That hasn't happened yet, but still, we worry. Or I do.) All is well.
A funny thing from the test results was that all three of them maxed out the science scores. "But Mom, we don't hardly ever DO science!" And yet, we do. We talk about scientific topics all. the. time. Space, botany, biology, chemistry, inquiry, data, research, physics, propulsion, systems, dynamics, you name it, it's getting air time in the house. With all the things they've built, soaked, set on fire, and lobbed, I'm actually surprised the housing office doesn't send us hate mail. Do we spend a lot of time specifically studying one particular text, reading the sidebars, and going over the vocabulary? No. But we spend a lot of time steeped in various scientific disciplines, and it showed up on their scores. I thought that was rather interesting and encouraging.
And now, we don't have to do it again for a while. That was their favorite part.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Friday, June 29
Wednesday, June 27
Summer!
It's Summertime! It's warm! It's sunny! It's been three months since I've written!
We closed on the Forever Home in April and it's now got just the family it needed. I am eight months into living 11 minutes from absolutely everything and still absolutely loving it! Like, you would not believe how wonderful it is for me. Oh, gosh. Yes!
James ended up staying at the house most nights near the end of the spring semester. Not having internet at the RV made getting school work done a little challenging, and as much as he loved the study hall in the honors building, it didn't have food late at night. So he'd come schlepping in around dinner time, eat, study, eat, play video games, eat, talk a bit, then crash on the couch. The boys took to referring to him as "The Hobo", although I'm fairly certain it was a lovingly bestowed nickname. There was a lot of laughter and chattering among them in the kitchen. Bonding over memes and such, I think. I don't know. I just sat here and enjoyed the happy noises.
The end of the semester came and he moved back in for the summer. Him and his stuff. You know how some people are into rescue animals and they are forever bringing home abandoned puppies, kittens, and armadillos? Well, James is into rescuing hardware. "But they were just going to throw them away! I couldn't just leave them there!" It's tech-based dumpster diving. And now my living room is filled with computers, computer parts, and cables. So many cables. I have no idea how he's going to fit back in the RV come fall.
We got John graduated from high school and he's in college full time over the summer, now. He'll have to transfer to a school in New Mexico to finish it, but both schools are accredited and bonafide, so the transition should be fairly smooth. Or not. We're still learning to roll with unexpected changes.
It's very, very weird having college students. I don't feel that old. They vacillate between seeming plenty old and really not possibly old enough. It's just a weird stage, but so far it's fascinating and fun, if confusing and exhausting. Kind of like life, in general, right?
Be encouraged!
~Dy
We closed on the Forever Home in April and it's now got just the family it needed. I am eight months into living 11 minutes from absolutely everything and still absolutely loving it! Like, you would not believe how wonderful it is for me. Oh, gosh. Yes!
James ended up staying at the house most nights near the end of the spring semester. Not having internet at the RV made getting school work done a little challenging, and as much as he loved the study hall in the honors building, it didn't have food late at night. So he'd come schlepping in around dinner time, eat, study, eat, play video games, eat, talk a bit, then crash on the couch. The boys took to referring to him as "The Hobo", although I'm fairly certain it was a lovingly bestowed nickname. There was a lot of laughter and chattering among them in the kitchen. Bonding over memes and such, I think. I don't know. I just sat here and enjoyed the happy noises.
The end of the semester came and he moved back in for the summer. Him and his stuff. You know how some people are into rescue animals and they are forever bringing home abandoned puppies, kittens, and armadillos? Well, James is into rescuing hardware. "But they were just going to throw them away! I couldn't just leave them there!" It's tech-based dumpster diving. And now my living room is filled with computers, computer parts, and cables. So many cables. I have no idea how he's going to fit back in the RV come fall.
We got John graduated from high school and he's in college full time over the summer, now. He'll have to transfer to a school in New Mexico to finish it, but both schools are accredited and bonafide, so the transition should be fairly smooth. Or not. We're still learning to roll with unexpected changes.
It's very, very weird having college students. I don't feel that old. They vacillate between seeming plenty old and really not possibly old enough. It's just a weird stage, but so far it's fascinating and fun, if confusing and exhausting. Kind of like life, in general, right?
Be encouraged!
~Dy
Wednesday, March 14
Getting Stronger
I've been meaning to get back to the gym for, oh, two years, now. Oops. First, I had to get my brain back. (That took about a year.) Then I had to get the kids back on track. (Yeah, that was another year.) And now, it's time. I'm so excited!
I stopped by the gym and filled out a health history form, talked with one of the trainers, and made a plan. Then the schedule won't work for this coming week. Heh. As long as it doesn't take me an entire year to get it going, then we're good, and at least now there is a plan ready to implement. I'm hoping to lift twice a week and do something else a couple times a week. Once the weather gets nicer (for that brief, glorious window before the hot 'n sticky descends!) I can get out and move with the kids without too much muttering under my breath. Plus, the Littles are big enough now to get me actually moving. That's gonna be weird!
James and his roommate have been trying to play racquetball about once a week. They'd like to play more often, but chemistry is trying to kill them both, so it's mostly just a stolen hour over the weekend. I love that they're trying to pay attention to the holistic aspects of their health. It's hard, and it's weird, but they're doing it! Perhaps over the summer they'll be able to make more use of the gym. For now, though, I'm pretty impressed. Now, to get them to eat more ...
I stopped by the gym and filled out a health history form, talked with one of the trainers, and made a plan. Then the schedule won't work for this coming week. Heh. As long as it doesn't take me an entire year to get it going, then we're good, and at least now there is a plan ready to implement. I'm hoping to lift twice a week and do something else a couple times a week. Once the weather gets nicer (for that brief, glorious window before the hot 'n sticky descends!) I can get out and move with the kids without too much muttering under my breath. Plus, the Littles are big enough now to get me actually moving. That's gonna be weird!
James and his roommate have been trying to play racquetball about once a week. They'd like to play more often, but chemistry is trying to kill them both, so it's mostly just a stolen hour over the weekend. I love that they're trying to pay attention to the holistic aspects of their health. It's hard, and it's weird, but they're doing it! Perhaps over the summer they'll be able to make more use of the gym. For now, though, I'm pretty impressed. Now, to get them to eat more ...
Tuesday, March 13
Cooking and Juggling
I've been trying to pin down the schedule so that I can catch James in the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon (or any other day, I'm not picky) when we're both here, motivated, and hungry (because it's fun to make things more challenging), in the hopes of guiding him through kitchen basics.
Now, before you think, "Wait, he's how old? How does he not know how to cook?" I would like to point out that he KNEW how to cook. He did, and for several years he was a very good cook. But through either a particularly rough chemical upheaval during adolescence, or perhaps an undiagnosed brain injury, or just an increased focus on other things, he has forgotten. It's simply gone; replaced, perhaps, with philosophical inquiry, or scenes from Dumb and Dumber. I don't know. As with much of parenting, it doesn't, at this point, matter much how he forgot how to cook as it does that we remedy it. So, we've been working on that. I'm still cooking seven days a week, and I have no clue what he eats most of the time, but we've managed to get together about once a week (or once every other week, because we're both busy and disorganized) to cook together.
Last Sunday, I made beef enchiladas and he worked alongside me, making a keto version of the same thing. He did a fabulous job. They were delicious and beautiful! Then he ate them all in just a couple of sittings, and there went my plan for him to have ready made food to eat at his place. Next time, we'll double the recipe!
So, since we're often scattered to the winds during the week, we need quick foods, or foods that can be eaten on the go. Since we're all busily engaged in the work of learning, doing, and living, we need foods that are nourishing and that support our endeavors. And, since there are roughly eight billion of us, we need foods we can afford (which means not eating out, even if we find a place that meets the first two requirements!)
This has become my favorite go-to for quick meals on the go:
I found the recipe here, at FlavCity. They do a lot of Starbucks replications in low-carb versions, which is fun (and dangerous - I have an unrepentant sweet tooth)! So far, everything we've tried from this site has been delicious and easy. Kudos to their team for putting together a great resource!
I will readily admit (and those who know me would think I was lying if I didn't just come out with it) that I don't always follow the recipe. This one is very forgiving of additions and slight alterations. (So, if you don't have gruyere, you can use apple smoked cheddar, asiago, Lustenberger (which tastes very earthy and bakes up nicely), or straight up shredded cheddar from Costco. Seriously, use what you have and eat it like you meant it. Life is better that way.
John hates the taste and flavor of cheese and cheese products, so I add jalapenos and cracked black pepper to his. If all he tastes is HOT, then he's a happy camper. It's our unspoken agreement. Well, either that, or he's going to move out and never eat here again. I'm not sure. But he knows he's loved, so there is that.
In the meantime, I've also been thinking up meal options for a dear older lady so that I can cook for her. She's dairy-free, and it was at this point that I realized I cannot just make extra of what we eat and share it with her. We eat a LOT of cheese! Never have I been so thankful that none of us is lactose intolerant in my life! Wowsa! I'm drawing a lot of blanks on that one, and about thisclose to buying diary-free cheese ("cheese"?) to see if our recipes are adaptable for her.
I hope you try something new this week! And I hope it helps you juggle what you've got going on!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Now, before you think, "Wait, he's how old? How does he not know how to cook?" I would like to point out that he KNEW how to cook. He did, and for several years he was a very good cook. But through either a particularly rough chemical upheaval during adolescence, or perhaps an undiagnosed brain injury, or just an increased focus on other things, he has forgotten. It's simply gone; replaced, perhaps, with philosophical inquiry, or scenes from Dumb and Dumber. I don't know. As with much of parenting, it doesn't, at this point, matter much how he forgot how to cook as it does that we remedy it. So, we've been working on that. I'm still cooking seven days a week, and I have no clue what he eats most of the time, but we've managed to get together about once a week (or once every other week, because we're both busy and disorganized) to cook together.
Last Sunday, I made beef enchiladas and he worked alongside me, making a keto version of the same thing. He did a fabulous job. They were delicious and beautiful! Then he ate them all in just a couple of sittings, and there went my plan for him to have ready made food to eat at his place. Next time, we'll double the recipe!
So, since we're often scattered to the winds during the week, we need quick foods, or foods that can be eaten on the go. Since we're all busily engaged in the work of learning, doing, and living, we need foods that are nourishing and that support our endeavors. And, since there are roughly eight billion of us, we need foods we can afford (which means not eating out, even if we find a place that meets the first two requirements!)
This has become my favorite go-to for quick meals on the go:
I found the recipe here, at FlavCity. They do a lot of Starbucks replications in low-carb versions, which is fun (and dangerous - I have an unrepentant sweet tooth)! So far, everything we've tried from this site has been delicious and easy. Kudos to their team for putting together a great resource!
I will readily admit (and those who know me would think I was lying if I didn't just come out with it) that I don't always follow the recipe. This one is very forgiving of additions and slight alterations. (So, if you don't have gruyere, you can use apple smoked cheddar, asiago, Lustenberger (which tastes very earthy and bakes up nicely), or straight up shredded cheddar from Costco. Seriously, use what you have and eat it like you meant it. Life is better that way.
John hates the taste and flavor of cheese and cheese products, so I add jalapenos and cracked black pepper to his. If all he tastes is HOT, then he's a happy camper. It's our unspoken agreement. Well, either that, or he's going to move out and never eat here again. I'm not sure. But he knows he's loved, so there is that.
In the meantime, I've also been thinking up meal options for a dear older lady so that I can cook for her. She's dairy-free, and it was at this point that I realized I cannot just make extra of what we eat and share it with her. We eat a LOT of cheese! Never have I been so thankful that none of us is lactose intolerant in my life! Wowsa! I'm drawing a lot of blanks on that one, and about thisclose to buying diary-free cheese ("cheese"?) to see if our recipes are adaptable for her.
I hope you try something new this week! And I hope it helps you juggle what you've got going on!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Monday, March 12
The Last of the Projects
When Z came out, he picked up our trailer and took it to the Forever Home to load up a few last things. (There were a lot of things ...) It was a good thing he was here, because we discovered the water line had broken where it crossed the creek! Oy!
Fortunately, we'd turned the water off at the main since we weren't down there to turn faucets on and off when the temps dipped low. (Low for here. I know there's a curve - but when your water line is above grade, it doesn't take much!)
So he got that fixed and reinforced. He'd have done it regardless of who was buying the house, but knowing the family he was fixing it for made a difference in his overall cheerfulness level while he stood in the creek and flushed the line.
Then the kitchen drain backed up, so he stayed a couple of extra days to get that flushed and make certain it was good and clean. (We do use a lot of grease in our cooking ...)
I dismantled the fridge and got it clean. Wiped out the oven. Stood looking around. The ceiling fans are clean. The windows are sparkly. I'll go back sometime before we close and sweep/mop the floors. And that'll be it. The last of the projects. The end of an era.
We stood together in the lower drive, hands on hips, looking at the redbuds peeking purple through the grey of winter wood, the daffodils blooming as if it's not going to freeze one more time around the first week of April (which it totally is, but you can't tell the daffodils anything - they've just gotta bloom), and we were struck by the finality of leaving. It was bittersweet. Deeply bittersweet.
I'm glad we'll have the memories and the friendships to take with us. That's what makes it all bearable.
Be encouraged.
~ Dy
Fortunately, we'd turned the water off at the main since we weren't down there to turn faucets on and off when the temps dipped low. (Low for here. I know there's a curve - but when your water line is above grade, it doesn't take much!)
So he got that fixed and reinforced. He'd have done it regardless of who was buying the house, but knowing the family he was fixing it for made a difference in his overall cheerfulness level while he stood in the creek and flushed the line.
Then the kitchen drain backed up, so he stayed a couple of extra days to get that flushed and make certain it was good and clean. (We do use a lot of grease in our cooking ...)
I dismantled the fridge and got it clean. Wiped out the oven. Stood looking around. The ceiling fans are clean. The windows are sparkly. I'll go back sometime before we close and sweep/mop the floors. And that'll be it. The last of the projects. The end of an era.
We stood together in the lower drive, hands on hips, looking at the redbuds peeking purple through the grey of winter wood, the daffodils blooming as if it's not going to freeze one more time around the first week of April (which it totally is, but you can't tell the daffodils anything - they've just gotta bloom), and we were struck by the finality of leaving. It was bittersweet. Deeply bittersweet.
I'm glad we'll have the memories and the friendships to take with us. That's what makes it all bearable.
Be encouraged.
~ Dy
Sunday, March 11
Let's Dance!
So, summer intensive auditions are over. Hallelujah! And *whew*.
Jacob auditioned his little heart out this season. He learned a lot. He was both encouraged and discouraged by the whole process. In the end, though, it's such good experience. There is growth in the striving. (This is something we manage to remember about 70% of the time. Sometimes we just weeny out and complain about it being haaaaarrrrrddd. But we're getting better.) He gave it his best, he learned from each audition. And how he grew. Wow!
At the end of auditions, he was accepted at the Washington Ballet and at Nashville Ballet. So, that was exciting!
And expensive. Gosh. I hadn't budgeted past February yet, so those conversations with Z were fun. (He's so patient with me. But it's funny how his boundless optimism craps out right when I dig deep enough to find mine. LOL. We're a good team, as we don't both give up at the same time.) Also, I need to be budgeting now for next year. It's like merchandising and fashion - gotta be planning for next year's line now. And here I was, all excited to be a month ahead on the car insurance. Ah, well. We'll get there.
Anyway, I'm still mentally trying to figure out how to make both DC and Nashville happen (because I want to be Dance Santa! And Santa Mom! And make all the good things happen!), but Jacob decided that it would probably be better to attend just one, and to attend for the longest session he can, rather than to do two much shorter sessions in different places. He figured that would be a way to really push himself, get the most out of the program, work more closely with the instructors, and come out the other end a significantly better dancer than he went in. For a 14 year-old boy, that's pretty insightful. It gives me hope.
So, this Summer, Jacob will be spending five weeks in Nashville, studying under some fabulous teachers, stretching his little ligaments and pushing his work ethic to its limit, and he couldn't be happier! (Well, he could, but we'd have to win the lottery, and we don't play the lottery, so this is about the upper edge of happy for this summer. It's still a pretty high happy!)
In the meantime, they're working on Cinderella, getting ready for Panoply in the Park, and looking forward to Spring break! I get tired just putting his schedule in my planner. It's a good thing he loves it.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Jacob auditioned his little heart out this season. He learned a lot. He was both encouraged and discouraged by the whole process. In the end, though, it's such good experience. There is growth in the striving. (This is something we manage to remember about 70% of the time. Sometimes we just weeny out and complain about it being haaaaarrrrrddd. But we're getting better.) He gave it his best, he learned from each audition. And how he grew. Wow!
At the end of auditions, he was accepted at the Washington Ballet and at Nashville Ballet. So, that was exciting!
And expensive. Gosh. I hadn't budgeted past February yet, so those conversations with Z were fun. (He's so patient with me. But it's funny how his boundless optimism craps out right when I dig deep enough to find mine. LOL. We're a good team, as we don't both give up at the same time.) Also, I need to be budgeting now for next year. It's like merchandising and fashion - gotta be planning for next year's line now. And here I was, all excited to be a month ahead on the car insurance. Ah, well. We'll get there.
Anyway, I'm still mentally trying to figure out how to make both DC and Nashville happen (because I want to be Dance Santa! And Santa Mom! And make all the good things happen!), but Jacob decided that it would probably be better to attend just one, and to attend for the longest session he can, rather than to do two much shorter sessions in different places. He figured that would be a way to really push himself, get the most out of the program, work more closely with the instructors, and come out the other end a significantly better dancer than he went in. For a 14 year-old boy, that's pretty insightful. It gives me hope.
So, this Summer, Jacob will be spending five weeks in Nashville, studying under some fabulous teachers, stretching his little ligaments and pushing his work ethic to its limit, and he couldn't be happier! (Well, he could, but we'd have to win the lottery, and we don't play the lottery, so this is about the upper edge of happy for this summer. It's still a pretty high happy!)
In the meantime, they're working on Cinderella, getting ready for Panoply in the Park, and looking forward to Spring break! I get tired just putting his schedule in my planner. It's a good thing he loves it.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Saturday, March 10
That's one way to get through Lent...
I blinked. And now it's March. But SO much has been happening!
Also, not remotely related, but sort of indicative of my response to things lately, I sat down to write and my foot hit something under the table. I poked it, and it rolled around. "Oh, there's a ball under the table." Then I realized it didn't feel like any ball we have. What was that? Of course, I tried to figure it out with my foot instead of just looking. Couldn't figure it out. It rolled, but not like a normal ball. It was hard, too, not squishy. Finally, I looked. It was an avocado. I have an avocado under my table. Why? How does this even happen? Well, whatever. The upside is that I now have an avocado!
Anyway, life is beginning to resolve a bit. I can see one of the finish lines of the marathon through my unfocused eyes and flailing arms. The cheering from the support crew, though, is fabulous! There is no way I could have kept my sanity if it weren't for the grace of God in giving us such a team.
Z came out for a visit. He brought the car Aunt B had given to us, and we sold the Volvo (we all sang joyously, except Z, who mourned a bit and then took a photo of the Volvo and The Guy Who Bought It - he's glad it's going to a good home). James now has safe, reliable transportation, and he is very thankful. I am very thankful. John, who usually has to help mechanic, is very thankful. There's just general joy and celebration all around.
The C Family has a contract on their house! That means we have a contract on OUR house! The Forever Home is going to go to a beautiful family that will love it. It will have children who will wander in the woods, play in the creek, have campfires in the upper meadow. Also, the lady of the family is a much better home decorator than I am, so the Forever Home will likely be lovelier than it's ever been!
The boys are surviving school. I guess the chemistry class is brutal. And the keeping track of things. And remembering to eat. It's hard to watch the young struggle with finding their groove. I don't remember it being as hard as it looks, but thinking back on some of my mother's comments, I'm guessing it was probably worse for her. At least my kids have sense and direction. My poor mother.
So, yeah, halfway through Lent. It hasn't been a somber Lenten season for us, but it has been a mindful one.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Also, not remotely related, but sort of indicative of my response to things lately, I sat down to write and my foot hit something under the table. I poked it, and it rolled around. "Oh, there's a ball under the table." Then I realized it didn't feel like any ball we have. What was that? Of course, I tried to figure it out with my foot instead of just looking. Couldn't figure it out. It rolled, but not like a normal ball. It was hard, too, not squishy. Finally, I looked. It was an avocado. I have an avocado under my table. Why? How does this even happen? Well, whatever. The upside is that I now have an avocado!
Anyway, life is beginning to resolve a bit. I can see one of the finish lines of the marathon through my unfocused eyes and flailing arms. The cheering from the support crew, though, is fabulous! There is no way I could have kept my sanity if it weren't for the grace of God in giving us such a team.
Z came out for a visit. He brought the car Aunt B had given to us, and we sold the Volvo (we all sang joyously, except Z, who mourned a bit and then took a photo of the Volvo and The Guy Who Bought It - he's glad it's going to a good home). James now has safe, reliable transportation, and he is very thankful. I am very thankful. John, who usually has to help mechanic, is very thankful. There's just general joy and celebration all around.
The C Family has a contract on their house! That means we have a contract on OUR house! The Forever Home is going to go to a beautiful family that will love it. It will have children who will wander in the woods, play in the creek, have campfires in the upper meadow. Also, the lady of the family is a much better home decorator than I am, so the Forever Home will likely be lovelier than it's ever been!
The boys are surviving school. I guess the chemistry class is brutal. And the keeping track of things. And remembering to eat. It's hard to watch the young struggle with finding their groove. I don't remember it being as hard as it looks, but thinking back on some of my mother's comments, I'm guessing it was probably worse for her. At least my kids have sense and direction. My poor mother.
So, yeah, halfway through Lent. It hasn't been a somber Lenten season for us, but it has been a mindful one.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Wednesday, February 14
Happy Valentine's Day!
Or Ash Wednesday (although it feels wrong to wish someone a "happy" Ash Wednesday). So, just know you're loved.
Em was particularly torn. She has theater! It's Valentine's day! But ... somber. Oy, what to wear? (How is she even my child? God is good. Amusing, but good.)
It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Nothing new added to the mix, but as I told a friend last week, I'm a sprinter, not a marathoner, and I've just hit the half-mile mark. I needed to take a few days to simply vacuum the carpet and stare forlornly at the stains that seem to multiply like Adipose. (Parenthetically, carpet in the dining space of a rental just shouldn't ever be a thing.) Needed to prod the children forward a bit. Needed to not check the calendar to see where to be next. Financially, it hurt, but mentally, it was necessary.
In less stressful news, our sweet church hosted its first-ever Shrove Tuesday Pancake Supper last night. It was a wonderful opportunity to just hang out with everyone. Just visit. No point, no purpose, other than fellowship. I'm glad we did it, and appreciate that we have the kind of congregation that's learning to really live together. Good stuff.
Today's gonna be a little nuts. I've got work this afternoon, so I'm having to skip out on book club (it was that, or I'd have to take my children with me to work, which seemed a bit much). John agreed to haul the children to Ash Wednesday services, and Jacob's gonna have to find his own ride home after rehearsals. Nuts, but good. Everyone is capable of doing what they need to do. Again, I appreciate that. (Whether they will may be another story, but I'm choosing to appreciate what's possible at the moment and just embrace that.)
We hoped to have a visit from Z by now, but so far, no love on travel plans. Thankfully, technology makes distance so much easier to navigate. Jacob was telling me this morning that without Dad here to just talk science and math with, he's losing his mind. "That's why I send him so many links." Aww! Turns out, he's been emailing Z links to news and articles that he finds interesting and wants to talk to someone about. (Although to be fair, he still talks to the rest of us about all manner of stuff. I had no idea he was doing this, but I love it! The rest of us just can't hang with the theoretical math and science.) He texts and calls, as well. This is really no worse than a standard TDY, thanks to technology! I love it!
And now, it's time to prod again.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Em was particularly torn. She has theater! It's Valentine's day! But ... somber. Oy, what to wear? (How is she even my child? God is good. Amusing, but good.)
It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Nothing new added to the mix, but as I told a friend last week, I'm a sprinter, not a marathoner, and I've just hit the half-mile mark. I needed to take a few days to simply vacuum the carpet and stare forlornly at the stains that seem to multiply like Adipose. (Parenthetically, carpet in the dining space of a rental just shouldn't ever be a thing.) Needed to prod the children forward a bit. Needed to not check the calendar to see where to be next. Financially, it hurt, but mentally, it was necessary.
In less stressful news, our sweet church hosted its first-ever Shrove Tuesday Pancake Supper last night. It was a wonderful opportunity to just hang out with everyone. Just visit. No point, no purpose, other than fellowship. I'm glad we did it, and appreciate that we have the kind of congregation that's learning to really live together. Good stuff.
Today's gonna be a little nuts. I've got work this afternoon, so I'm having to skip out on book club (it was that, or I'd have to take my children with me to work, which seemed a bit much). John agreed to haul the children to Ash Wednesday services, and Jacob's gonna have to find his own ride home after rehearsals. Nuts, but good. Everyone is capable of doing what they need to do. Again, I appreciate that. (Whether they will may be another story, but I'm choosing to appreciate what's possible at the moment and just embrace that.)
We hoped to have a visit from Z by now, but so far, no love on travel plans. Thankfully, technology makes distance so much easier to navigate. Jacob was telling me this morning that without Dad here to just talk science and math with, he's losing his mind. "That's why I send him so many links." Aww! Turns out, he's been emailing Z links to news and articles that he finds interesting and wants to talk to someone about. (Although to be fair, he still talks to the rest of us about all manner of stuff. I had no idea he was doing this, but I love it! The rest of us just can't hang with the theoretical math and science.) He texts and calls, as well. This is really no worse than a standard TDY, thanks to technology! I love it!
And now, it's time to prod again.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Monday, February 5
On Reaching Out
The kids and I talked a lot yesterday about rebuilding our thing, our community. The kids miss it. I miss it. One of the things that's prevented us recently is that we lost a bit of our mojo during the cancer (which, fair enough, it'll knock anyone off their stride for a bit), and then once that was over ... well, we just didn't really get back to it. Inertia is a bear.
Then we moved.
Then Z moved.
Then Nutcracker. Then Christmas. Then Winter. Argh.
And now, here we are.
I think part of our problem is that we don't have the processes down, here, yet. In our old house, we could throw together a cookout for 40 guests with as little as two hours' notice. Easy. In this house, we can't hardly cobble together dinner for the five of us, even with a full day's head start. So that's a little tricky. I suspect we simply have to flail our way through a few gatherings in order to force start the new processes. We'll include apology gifts and flowers for those who get stuck being our first few guests, or something like that. But after that, it should come more naturally.
So the plan we came up with was this: find someone to invite to Sunday dinner and invite them.
What criteria you use doesn't matter. It can be someone you already know and like. It can be someone you'd like to get to know better. It can be someone who has done you a kindness that you'd like to reciprocate. It can be someone who just looks like they'd appreciate being looped in and connected. It can be someone you don't know at all, but you still feel compelled to invite them. It can be someone from work, school, church, a club or class, wherever. There are very few actual limitations on who it can be. Really. Your motivations are your own, and I trust you enough to be good with whatever the Spirit uses to move you. Run with it.
So, we'll see how that goes. It's going to require me to have my shizzle together quite a bit more of a Saturday afternoon, but that's probably something I should keep together as a general rule, anyway, right?
I'd LOVE to hear from you. What motivates you to reach out to someone? And then, how do you do it? Also, how do you keep your shizzle together?
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Then we moved.
Then Z moved.
Then Nutcracker. Then Christmas. Then Winter. Argh.
And now, here we are.
I think part of our problem is that we don't have the processes down, here, yet. In our old house, we could throw together a cookout for 40 guests with as little as two hours' notice. Easy. In this house, we can't hardly cobble together dinner for the five of us, even with a full day's head start. So that's a little tricky. I suspect we simply have to flail our way through a few gatherings in order to force start the new processes. We'll include apology gifts and flowers for those who get stuck being our first few guests, or something like that. But after that, it should come more naturally.
So the plan we came up with was this: find someone to invite to Sunday dinner and invite them.
What criteria you use doesn't matter. It can be someone you already know and like. It can be someone you'd like to get to know better. It can be someone who has done you a kindness that you'd like to reciprocate. It can be someone who just looks like they'd appreciate being looped in and connected. It can be someone you don't know at all, but you still feel compelled to invite them. It can be someone from work, school, church, a club or class, wherever. There are very few actual limitations on who it can be. Really. Your motivations are your own, and I trust you enough to be good with whatever the Spirit uses to move you. Run with it.
So, we'll see how that goes. It's going to require me to have my shizzle together quite a bit more of a Saturday afternoon, but that's probably something I should keep together as a general rule, anyway, right?
I'd LOVE to hear from you. What motivates you to reach out to someone? And then, how do you do it? Also, how do you keep your shizzle together?
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Sunday, February 4
Building Community Takes Work
But it's worth it. I think we forget that. Yet, when we look back at the things we've loved the most about our lives, it's been about our community. Sitting around a fire (be it a small fire ring or a blazing bonfire), sharing food, sharing stories, building community in a very real sense. Biking to the courthouse to meet friends at the festival, pulling chairs and benches into a circle to share conversation, pitching in in the kitchen to get a meal ready, taking someone's children for a day or to an event that the person can't make, are all simple examples of building community in ways that are rock solid and that will make a difference.
We've missed that. I'll be honest. We've fallen prey to the god of busyness. Too busy to have people over. Too busy to accept an invitation. Never setting a date on the spot because we "have to check the calendar".
But if I stop and think about it, how much extra effort, really, does it take to ask someone to share a meal you're already going to prepare, already going to eat? How much planning does it require to drag another chair out of the garage and set at the table? How hard is it to say, "It won't be fancy, but we would love to have you over for dinner"? What myopia allows us to think that's a legitimate thing? But we do it. We all do it.
At Bible study on Tuesday, Father Geoff admonished us to be cautious about several things, one of which is not acting in a spirit of unity. (Or, rather, the author of Hebrews cautioned us -- Father Geoff just pointed out that there's nothing new under the sun, and we're not immune.)
The verse that struck me hardest (and most beautifully) is Hebrews 10: 24-25:
I thought about our amazing book club, and what a struggle it is for many of us to make time for it. We love it, and we cherish the people in it, but either we feel it's a frivolous way to spend an afternoon, or it's too much (time, gas, juggling, whatever) to get there, or that we "ought" to be doing something more (important? responsible? what?) We love it, but we struggle to make it a priority.
Geoff mentioned that a church family ought to do more than socialize between worship and Sunday School. They ought to hang out together, help each other with their children, their illnesses, their worries, their joys. They ought to be a family. We punt around the word, "family" as if it doesn't have any tangible meaning. It does. It definitely ought to. It's up to us to give it meaning.
And this goes beyond the church walls. Z told me last night about taking an unused fryer base that his brother had lying around, rigging it up to hold a plow disc, and setting up on the back patio to make dinner. They had the fryer going, Pandora playing on someone's phone, dragged chairs out, and just hung out for the evening. It was a great end to the day, and they all really enjoyed it. What Z told his brother is that there's some nourishment that's non-tangibly-nutritive in eating together, in spending time together. It feeds more than just your body. He's right.
After study on Tuesday, a friend said, "We keep saying we want to get together, but if we don't put a date on it, I'm afraid it's not going to happen. Would Saturday work for you guys?"
She's a genius!
Last night, we went to their house and enjoyed an evening with them. They made dinner. We brought dessert. We played a game after dinner. Simple. Easy. We thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them more intimately. The kids really enjoyed spending time with them. I'd been on the go, go, go since early in the morning, so I hit the wall and had to be a party pooper long before anyone else was ready to go, but I'm so glad we went. I'm so glad she put a date on it and made it happen.
And it reminded me that the very thing we've been missing lately is the very thing that WE have failed to do lately: just ask people to come. Feed them. Talk with them. Pull up a chair. It's easy. We love it. We miss it. But we also have the power to get it back. That's something that's been put on us to do: do not neglect to meet together.
So, that's a good tip for making it a priority to build your community. Put a date on it. Just do it. Don't worry about having time to make something special. Don't worry about having time to make it an all day affair. That's not where family lives. Family lives on the back patio at the end of the day, snatching chicken off the plow disc. Family lives around the coffee table, figuring out the rules of a new game. Family, community, lives together, not alone. That's all it takes.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
We've missed that. I'll be honest. We've fallen prey to the god of busyness. Too busy to have people over. Too busy to accept an invitation. Never setting a date on the spot because we "have to check the calendar".
But if I stop and think about it, how much extra effort, really, does it take to ask someone to share a meal you're already going to prepare, already going to eat? How much planning does it require to drag another chair out of the garage and set at the table? How hard is it to say, "It won't be fancy, but we would love to have you over for dinner"? What myopia allows us to think that's a legitimate thing? But we do it. We all do it.
At Bible study on Tuesday, Father Geoff admonished us to be cautious about several things, one of which is not acting in a spirit of unity. (Or, rather, the author of Hebrews cautioned us -- Father Geoff just pointed out that there's nothing new under the sun, and we're not immune.)
The verse that struck me hardest (and most beautifully) is Hebrews 10: 24-25:
And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.
I thought about our amazing book club, and what a struggle it is for many of us to make time for it. We love it, and we cherish the people in it, but either we feel it's a frivolous way to spend an afternoon, or it's too much (time, gas, juggling, whatever) to get there, or that we "ought" to be doing something more (important? responsible? what?) We love it, but we struggle to make it a priority.
Geoff mentioned that a church family ought to do more than socialize between worship and Sunday School. They ought to hang out together, help each other with their children, their illnesses, their worries, their joys. They ought to be a family. We punt around the word, "family" as if it doesn't have any tangible meaning. It does. It definitely ought to. It's up to us to give it meaning.
And this goes beyond the church walls. Z told me last night about taking an unused fryer base that his brother had lying around, rigging it up to hold a plow disc, and setting up on the back patio to make dinner. They had the fryer going, Pandora playing on someone's phone, dragged chairs out, and just hung out for the evening. It was a great end to the day, and they all really enjoyed it. What Z told his brother is that there's some nourishment that's non-tangibly-nutritive in eating together, in spending time together. It feeds more than just your body. He's right.
After study on Tuesday, a friend said, "We keep saying we want to get together, but if we don't put a date on it, I'm afraid it's not going to happen. Would Saturday work for you guys?"
She's a genius!
Last night, we went to their house and enjoyed an evening with them. They made dinner. We brought dessert. We played a game after dinner. Simple. Easy. We thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them more intimately. The kids really enjoyed spending time with them. I'd been on the go, go, go since early in the morning, so I hit the wall and had to be a party pooper long before anyone else was ready to go, but I'm so glad we went. I'm so glad she put a date on it and made it happen.
And it reminded me that the very thing we've been missing lately is the very thing that WE have failed to do lately: just ask people to come. Feed them. Talk with them. Pull up a chair. It's easy. We love it. We miss it. But we also have the power to get it back. That's something that's been put on us to do: do not neglect to meet together.
So, that's a good tip for making it a priority to build your community. Put a date on it. Just do it. Don't worry about having time to make something special. Don't worry about having time to make it an all day affair. That's not where family lives. Family lives on the back patio at the end of the day, snatching chicken off the plow disc. Family lives around the coffee table, figuring out the rules of a new game. Family, community, lives together, not alone. That's all it takes.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Thursday, February 1
It's All In How You Look At It
The caliper for the brakes came in Tuesday. Our dear friend, Larry, arranged to meet James here yesterday to help him put it in. It's been a long week, juggling rides and tweaking schedules, but everyone pitched in and it worked. And what fortune, to have good friends!
We pulled in and noticed that his face looked distinctly like he had bad news ... We got out to greet him, and ...
What's that smell? Is that gasoline? Where's it ... Ohhh.
Oh, my.
So, the downside is that the pressurized fuel line is leaking. But it's not the tank - the tank is fine. That's good.
The downside is that while we can learn to repair it, there's more cost, plus a heck of a learning curve, especially in February, with no garage to work in. The upside is that Z's not here, so we don't have to spend the next week squatting in the road, in the cold and the wet, handing him tools. (He can fix anything, and if he can, then he feels he ought. The rest of us are pretty supportive, but we'll cry, "Uncle!" long before he will.)
And the new tire is flat. But hey, at least we don't need to use it!
The downside is that the Volvo is worth significantly less now that it's not functional. The upside is that perhaps there's someone who really needs parts to make their own Volvo safe, and now those parts will be available.
The upside is that James is not alone in a hostile environment, and he has support and help to get where he needs to be.
He doesn't have to walk ten miles each way to get to school or work.
He has a wonderful roommate who is supportive and kind, and offered to carpool whenever their schedules allow.
We didn't discover both the brake failure and the gas leak out on the road ... At the same time! (That makes me queasy just thinking about it.)
He has a bike -- one he can fix, tweak, and fiddle with. He knows how to repair it, maintain it, and generally keep himself mobile with it. He has a helmet. And a bike lock.
He is safe.
I am thankful.
And while I am a little overwhelmed at how on the very edge of disaster we seem to be living these days, I can't help but be a little relieved because the edge is not the crevice. It's not free fall. It's not the end. It's just a very cautious walk with a pretty spectacular view, and although I cannot wait to be firmly back away from the edge, I can't help but be thankful for everything that's going right. God really is in the details -- in the relationships and encouragement, in the kindnesses and the caring gestures. That's it, right there.
It really is all in how you look at it.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
We pulled in and noticed that his face looked distinctly like he had bad news ... We got out to greet him, and ...
What's that smell? Is that gasoline? Where's it ... Ohhh.
Oh, my.
So, the downside is that the pressurized fuel line is leaking. But it's not the tank - the tank is fine. That's good.
The downside is that while we can learn to repair it, there's more cost, plus a heck of a learning curve, especially in February, with no garage to work in. The upside is that Z's not here, so we don't have to spend the next week squatting in the road, in the cold and the wet, handing him tools. (He can fix anything, and if he can, then he feels he ought. The rest of us are pretty supportive, but we'll cry, "Uncle!" long before he will.)
And the new tire is flat. But hey, at least we don't need to use it!
The downside is that the Volvo is worth significantly less now that it's not functional. The upside is that perhaps there's someone who really needs parts to make their own Volvo safe, and now those parts will be available.
The upside is that James is not alone in a hostile environment, and he has support and help to get where he needs to be.
He doesn't have to walk ten miles each way to get to school or work.
He has a wonderful roommate who is supportive and kind, and offered to carpool whenever their schedules allow.
We didn't discover both the brake failure and the gas leak out on the road ... At the same time! (That makes me queasy just thinking about it.)
He has a bike -- one he can fix, tweak, and fiddle with. He knows how to repair it, maintain it, and generally keep himself mobile with it. He has a helmet. And a bike lock.
He is safe.
I am thankful.
And while I am a little overwhelmed at how on the very edge of disaster we seem to be living these days, I can't help but be a little relieved because the edge is not the crevice. It's not free fall. It's not the end. It's just a very cautious walk with a pretty spectacular view, and although I cannot wait to be firmly back away from the edge, I can't help but be thankful for everything that's going right. God really is in the details -- in the relationships and encouragement, in the kindnesses and the caring gestures. That's it, right there.
It really is all in how you look at it.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Sunday, January 28
Go For It
Jacob wants to attend a summer program for dance. If you're serious about your dance, this appears to be someone non-negotiable. Okay. We can do that.
Turns out, audition season starts right-the-immediate-hell-after-New-Years. Or, more importantly, hot on the heels of Nutcracker season. So that's like surviving a typhoon only to head straight into tornado country. It's probably not that bad once you already know the rhythm, but if you're new, it's exhausting, confusing, a little stressful, and rather expensive.
Learning about this process is like trying to get a straight answer out of Lindsay Bluth. I don't know how they know these things, or where they learned about them. Other people do seem to know where they want to go; we only know that there are places to go. We've researched and read, we've checked FAQs and found ballet blogs and websites. It's all still clear as mud.
"Where does Jacob want to go?"
"Somewhere that'll take him ... You know, I'm glad you asked. Which programs are good?"
"It depends on the child."
"Uh ... It's Jacob. You've met him. Where would you recommend?"
"It depends on what he wants."
"Okay, he would love to find X,Y,Z."
"It really depends on the program."
"Okay, we'd like A, B, C."
"It'll really depend on the instructor."
Huh? I've put in nearly 100 hours researching this, and I am no closer to having a clue what I'm doing now than I was in December.
Also, I realize it's terribly gauche to talk about money, but I'll be honest, if I had a spare $4K-$9K lying around, we'd be doing something Very Different at the moment than working every spare minute, driving on bald tires. So, in my world, that's a thing. And it's a thing that really must be discussed before commitments can be made. (We found several places that will allow students to apply for scholarships after they've auditioned, been accepted, committed to attending the program, and paid a $500 non-refundable deposit. Clearly, those are not schools that would be a good fit for us. So, I guess I have learned at least something so far.)
He's only been dancing for a year, so he's not highly competitive. We get that. However, you don't get any better if you don't push yourself and try. At least, that seems to be his approach. Bless him. So, there were two auditions this weekend in Atlanta. But I worked all day Saturday, Z is in New Mexico, and the Volvo is still on lockdown because it can't be trusted not to kill people. That leaves one vehicle, which really needed to be with John, at home, in case the Littles blew something up or jumped off the roof, or ... I don't know. I mean, they're actually the least likely to ever do anything dangerous, but I'd rather they have guidance and a ride to the ER on hand and never need it than for them to need it and not have it. So. There we were. A willing and eager student and no way to get to Atlanta.
I ran through the moms-of-boys at the school, and nobody I had contact information for was going. (Which, really, ought to have been a clue that this was going to be a gnarly couple of auditions, but have I mentioned we're new here?) So I started poking the few moms-of-girls I have contact info for. A dear, sweet friend offered him a place to stay in Atlanta and a ride to auditions (or we could have even Ubered), so he only needed to get TO Atlanta. Again, nobody was going.
Then I found one. She and her daughter were leaving that day, right after lunch. Could he make it in time?
Yes, yes he could. (NOW we're in familiar territory! If I know how to make something happen, I can make it happen in record time. That's one of my gifts. Thank you, Lord!) We made a mad dash around town to get his photos printed, snag fresh t-shirts, and switch out a pair of tights. (I'd bought him a replacement pair last week, thinking I was so on the ball -- but no, Body Wrappers tights are sized VERY differently than Capezio. So differently. That was awkward.) Pointe Dancewear, in Madison, however, is the most magnificent place to get dance gear. I am very thankful for them.
Home to pack, and they were off.
He did it. I don't know how he did. I plied him with questions (like I do) and he refused to talk about it until he's eaten and slept (like he does). All he was willing to say was, "Turns out those are the two hardest programs out there." Oh. Oops. I'll probably hear more this week.
Regardless of what the schools thought of him, though, he now has two auditions under his belt. He's not completely new at this. He knows a little better what to expect. He knows what he can do. He knows what they want. He has some better ideas, now, and that's so good.
So now we know a little more than we did before. See? We're learning!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Turns out, audition season starts right-the-immediate-hell-after-New-Years. Or, more importantly, hot on the heels of Nutcracker season. So that's like surviving a typhoon only to head straight into tornado country. It's probably not that bad once you already know the rhythm, but if you're new, it's exhausting, confusing, a little stressful, and rather expensive.
Learning about this process is like trying to get a straight answer out of Lindsay Bluth. I don't know how they know these things, or where they learned about them. Other people do seem to know where they want to go; we only know that there are places to go. We've researched and read, we've checked FAQs and found ballet blogs and websites. It's all still clear as mud.
"Where does Jacob want to go?"
"Somewhere that'll take him ... You know, I'm glad you asked. Which programs are good?"
"It depends on the child."
"Uh ... It's Jacob. You've met him. Where would you recommend?"
"It depends on what he wants."
"Okay, he would love to find X,Y,Z."
"It really depends on the program."
"Okay, we'd like A, B, C."
"It'll really depend on the instructor."
Huh? I've put in nearly 100 hours researching this, and I am no closer to having a clue what I'm doing now than I was in December.
Also, I realize it's terribly gauche to talk about money, but I'll be honest, if I had a spare $4K-$9K lying around, we'd be doing something Very Different at the moment than working every spare minute, driving on bald tires. So, in my world, that's a thing. And it's a thing that really must be discussed before commitments can be made. (We found several places that will allow students to apply for scholarships after they've auditioned, been accepted, committed to attending the program, and paid a $500 non-refundable deposit. Clearly, those are not schools that would be a good fit for us. So, I guess I have learned at least something so far.)
He's only been dancing for a year, so he's not highly competitive. We get that. However, you don't get any better if you don't push yourself and try. At least, that seems to be his approach. Bless him. So, there were two auditions this weekend in Atlanta. But I worked all day Saturday, Z is in New Mexico, and the Volvo is still on lockdown because it can't be trusted not to kill people. That leaves one vehicle, which really needed to be with John, at home, in case the Littles blew something up or jumped off the roof, or ... I don't know. I mean, they're actually the least likely to ever do anything dangerous, but I'd rather they have guidance and a ride to the ER on hand and never need it than for them to need it and not have it. So. There we were. A willing and eager student and no way to get to Atlanta.
I ran through the moms-of-boys at the school, and nobody I had contact information for was going. (Which, really, ought to have been a clue that this was going to be a gnarly couple of auditions, but have I mentioned we're new here?) So I started poking the few moms-of-girls I have contact info for. A dear, sweet friend offered him a place to stay in Atlanta and a ride to auditions (or we could have even Ubered), so he only needed to get TO Atlanta. Again, nobody was going.
Then I found one. She and her daughter were leaving that day, right after lunch. Could he make it in time?
Yes, yes he could. (NOW we're in familiar territory! If I know how to make something happen, I can make it happen in record time. That's one of my gifts. Thank you, Lord!) We made a mad dash around town to get his photos printed, snag fresh t-shirts, and switch out a pair of tights. (I'd bought him a replacement pair last week, thinking I was so on the ball -- but no, Body Wrappers tights are sized VERY differently than Capezio. So differently. That was awkward.) Pointe Dancewear, in Madison, however, is the most magnificent place to get dance gear. I am very thankful for them.
Home to pack, and they were off.
He did it. I don't know how he did. I plied him with questions (like I do) and he refused to talk about it until he's eaten and slept (like he does). All he was willing to say was, "Turns out those are the two hardest programs out there." Oh. Oops. I'll probably hear more this week.
Regardless of what the schools thought of him, though, he now has two auditions under his belt. He's not completely new at this. He knows a little better what to expect. He knows what he can do. He knows what they want. He has some better ideas, now, and that's so good.
So now we know a little more than we did before. See? We're learning!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Saturday, January 27
I Had A Plan
It was a good plan, too. James brought the Volvo over Thursday. I was going to take it for the other two new tires, a general check up, and a run through the car wash.
Then I started it up.
I didn't even know it had a light that says that! 😱
So, that's a big, fat Nope. I got out of the car and gave thanks that he was home, because that car wasn't going anywhere like that.
A friend came last night and helped him troubleshoot it. The part will be in Monday. Nobody died. Hallelujah!
We figured in the meantime, he could bike, but it turns out he needs a new bike tire, too. 😕 At least that's a quick fix and I can pick up a new tube on the way home from work in the morning.
So, the new plan is to just keep replacing things that are broken until we eventually get all caught up. That, too, is a good plan.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Then I started it up.
I didn't even know it had a light that says that! 😱
So, that's a big, fat Nope. I got out of the car and gave thanks that he was home, because that car wasn't going anywhere like that.
A friend came last night and helped him troubleshoot it. The part will be in Monday. Nobody died. Hallelujah!
We figured in the meantime, he could bike, but it turns out he needs a new bike tire, too. 😕 At least that's a quick fix and I can pick up a new tube on the way home from work in the morning.
So, the new plan is to just keep replacing things that are broken until we eventually get all caught up. That, too, is a good plan.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Thursday, January 25
A Weird Week of Provision and Panic
James called Sunday morning to say he'd be late for church. He'd blown a tire about a mile away. He was fine, which was all I cared about. The rest, we can handle. (We're all vaguely surprised those tires haven't all imploded before now. I knew they were bad, but I'll admit that I haven't paid attention to the vehicle maintenance. This is the first time I've even looked at our tires outside of the one crazy tire on the Highlander that we had to replace earlier in the month.) Blessedly, we've been budgeting, and I've been able to work, so it wasn't a problem to say we could get a new tire. I had an inkling there was no spare (there wasn't - oy!) so I slipped out of church to pick him up and just go get a new tire. When I arrived it was obvious the rim was also shot. Okay, we've got this, right?
So, this week, I learned that you can't just go to Walmart, or even National Tire & Battery, and buy a wheel on the spot. I could have sworn that I'd seen rims for sale in stores before ... But the world has moved on. This is going to be one of my Old Lady Stories. "When I was a child ..." (*waves cane*) Also, it's a '92, so that meant we had to find a junk yard that was open on Sundays and would have a car we could cannibalize. We found one that's open, but they didn't have a single Volvo on the lot. So, we went back, gathered his things, and he left a note (which I didn't see until Tuesday, when we were able to get back to it). Since it's a crappy car parked in a swanky greenbelt parking lot, this was probably a wise course of action:
We spent Sunday evening looking online for wheels at junk yards. The boys thought it would be kind of awesome to buy one really swanky gold colored alloy wheel, preferably with a spinning component. They thought it would be a delightful bit of absurdity against the stock Volvo caps, the missing trim piece on one door, and the mismatched door handle on another. While I appreciate their sense of aesthetics (and humor), I wasn't going to steal grocery money for lolz. I found one in Birmingham (just a plain Jane, stock steel wheel), and confirmed that they still had it.
(As a side note, if you're looking for a market that needs either data entry skills or could use some kind of useful software, junk yard inventories are notoriously out of sync with what's in the yard. So, if you have a superpower and are looking for a place to use it, give that some thought. You could make millions.)
We kicked Jacob off early at ballet, then realized we still wouldn't make it before they closed, so I called to let them know that I wouldn't be able to make it before they closed for the day and I'd just come in the morning. The guy very graciously said to come on down. He said he'd be there whenever I got there, that it wasn't a problem, wasn't an imposition, just come on down. No, really, he'd wait for us. Okay, then. The Littles and I drove down.
87 miles.
He wasn't there. Nobody was there. Nobody answered the phone. I even tried the lock on the gate. And I laid on the horn.
We took a deep breath, then turned around and drove back. It was an awesome (if somewhat forced) exercise in living out every stupid thing I tell the children -- about extending grace, about looking for the positive, about trusting in God's provision, about how we can choose to make a situation better or worse by how we respond to it. But we did it, and we had a really lovely ride down and back.
The next morning, we did this whole Cirque du Soleil level choreography that involved me leaving at 6:30 in the morning to drive 174 miles round trip, get tires mounted and balanced, and get to the Volvo, while the boys spent the morning switching cars and making a dozen relays with John's car so that everyone could get where they needed to be. I went ahead and got two wheels while I was down there so that he'll have a spare in the future, and we hopefully don't have to make that drive again soon. The kids grabbed clothes for me (we had tickets to see a play that day at noon), James picked up everyone from their respective activities, and we all converged on the parking lot where the Volvo sat, looking sketchy and abandoned.
The boys put the two new tires on. The back end is now raised visibly, and it looks like a custom lift job on a crappy car. It's kind of hilarious, if you can get past the mortification aspect. James saw the new tires in the back of the Highlander and was convinced I'd bought the wrong size. "These will never fit on the Volvo!"
No, Love, it's the same size tire, this is just what it looks like with tread. Jacob asked how that happens (which is a completely sane question). "Well, this is 130K miles on 60K-mile tires. Don't do this. Do better than your father and I do, okay? That's the goal."
Of course, that's kind of the goal of everything. Do better than we do. Be more diligent than we were. Be more engaged that we were. Extend grace more readily than we did. Walk more closely with God than we did. And maintain your cars better than we do. Of course, we don't just stick that out there and leave them to their own devices. They have support, resources, and encouragement. And they're doing it.
I told them all that because of who they are -- their willingness to step into the gap and help out, the fact that they can be trusted to look out for each other, the way they are willing to learn and to engage, they took what could have been a total nightmare situation and turned it into nothing more than a mild inconvenience that was easily surmountable. That's alchemy, right there. They wouldn't high five me in the parking lot, but that totally would have been appropriate.
And so, tomorrow, two more new tires (I'm terrified the front two are going to blow just from the added pressure of having the bigger ones on the back.) Thankfully, the weather is nice, James can bike to work and to school. We can give him a lift if he needs one. So, all is well, and we are slowly attending to all the things that clearly need it, one harrowing (yet encouraging) thing on the list at a time.
Sometimes, when things are overwhelming, they can also be encouraging. And that's a good thing.
Be encouraged! (And check your tires!)
~ Dy
So, this week, I learned that you can't just go to Walmart, or even National Tire & Battery, and buy a wheel on the spot. I could have sworn that I'd seen rims for sale in stores before ... But the world has moved on. This is going to be one of my Old Lady Stories. "When I was a child ..." (*waves cane*) Also, it's a '92, so that meant we had to find a junk yard that was open on Sundays and would have a car we could cannibalize. We found one that's open, but they didn't have a single Volvo on the lot. So, we went back, gathered his things, and he left a note (which I didn't see until Tuesday, when we were able to get back to it). Since it's a crappy car parked in a swanky greenbelt parking lot, this was probably a wise course of action:
We spent Sunday evening looking online for wheels at junk yards. The boys thought it would be kind of awesome to buy one really swanky gold colored alloy wheel, preferably with a spinning component. They thought it would be a delightful bit of absurdity against the stock Volvo caps, the missing trim piece on one door, and the mismatched door handle on another. While I appreciate their sense of aesthetics (and humor), I wasn't going to steal grocery money for lolz. I found one in Birmingham (just a plain Jane, stock steel wheel), and confirmed that they still had it.
(As a side note, if you're looking for a market that needs either data entry skills or could use some kind of useful software, junk yard inventories are notoriously out of sync with what's in the yard. So, if you have a superpower and are looking for a place to use it, give that some thought. You could make millions.)
We kicked Jacob off early at ballet, then realized we still wouldn't make it before they closed, so I called to let them know that I wouldn't be able to make it before they closed for the day and I'd just come in the morning. The guy very graciously said to come on down. He said he'd be there whenever I got there, that it wasn't a problem, wasn't an imposition, just come on down. No, really, he'd wait for us. Okay, then. The Littles and I drove down.
87 miles.
He wasn't there. Nobody was there. Nobody answered the phone. I even tried the lock on the gate. And I laid on the horn.
We took a deep breath, then turned around and drove back. It was an awesome (if somewhat forced) exercise in living out every stupid thing I tell the children -- about extending grace, about looking for the positive, about trusting in God's provision, about how we can choose to make a situation better or worse by how we respond to it. But we did it, and we had a really lovely ride down and back.
The next morning, we did this whole Cirque du Soleil level choreography that involved me leaving at 6:30 in the morning to drive 174 miles round trip, get tires mounted and balanced, and get to the Volvo, while the boys spent the morning switching cars and making a dozen relays with John's car so that everyone could get where they needed to be. I went ahead and got two wheels while I was down there so that he'll have a spare in the future, and we hopefully don't have to make that drive again soon. The kids grabbed clothes for me (we had tickets to see a play that day at noon), James picked up everyone from their respective activities, and we all converged on the parking lot where the Volvo sat, looking sketchy and abandoned.
The boys put the two new tires on. The back end is now raised visibly, and it looks like a custom lift job on a crappy car. It's kind of hilarious, if you can get past the mortification aspect. James saw the new tires in the back of the Highlander and was convinced I'd bought the wrong size. "These will never fit on the Volvo!"
No, Love, it's the same size tire, this is just what it looks like with tread. Jacob asked how that happens (which is a completely sane question). "Well, this is 130K miles on 60K-mile tires. Don't do this. Do better than your father and I do, okay? That's the goal."
Of course, that's kind of the goal of everything. Do better than we do. Be more diligent than we were. Be more engaged that we were. Extend grace more readily than we did. Walk more closely with God than we did. And maintain your cars better than we do. Of course, we don't just stick that out there and leave them to their own devices. They have support, resources, and encouragement. And they're doing it.
I told them all that because of who they are -- their willingness to step into the gap and help out, the fact that they can be trusted to look out for each other, the way they are willing to learn and to engage, they took what could have been a total nightmare situation and turned it into nothing more than a mild inconvenience that was easily surmountable. That's alchemy, right there. They wouldn't high five me in the parking lot, but that totally would have been appropriate.
And so, tomorrow, two more new tires (I'm terrified the front two are going to blow just from the added pressure of having the bigger ones on the back.) Thankfully, the weather is nice, James can bike to work and to school. We can give him a lift if he needs one. So, all is well, and we are slowly attending to all the things that clearly need it, one harrowing (yet encouraging) thing on the list at a time.
Sometimes, when things are overwhelming, they can also be encouraging. And that's a good thing.
Be encouraged! (And check your tires!)
~ Dy
Monday, January 22
Oh! Oh, my!
There are times that I half-jokingly say that I'm really not qualified for this job. Then there are times that I am just humbled and awed that anybody ever leaves me in charge of anything, and I mean it wholeheartedly. I really thought I'd know more by now.
But something I realized -- fully realized, in my heart of hearts -- this week, is that it truly is enough to do what's been set before you. Do it well. Do it diligently. Let the rest sort itself out. I have a wonderful ability to see the overarching themes of things, to see the whole picture, and that's great. It lets me grasp new ideas quickly. It lets me bring an idea to fruition in a moment. It can be a lot of fun. But it also means that when things are wonky or askew, I see all the things that are wrong, and I want to fixthemallrightnow. I can't. But that doesn't stop me from trying to.
The thing is, though, I expend so much energy in trying to find that one, brilliant maneuver that will do it all (fix it all, finance it all, repair it all, build it all) in one fell swoop that I tend to forget to do what's right in front of me. I see it. I recognize that it's good. But it doesn't seem like ENOUGH. I feel compelled to find that magic bullet, that extra hour in the day, that superhuman strength to lift not just a car, but an entire train. In my efforts to find this elusive big gun, I end up neglecting the things that are legitimately within my scope of influence.
I also end up diminishing my understanding of just how powerful one word, one task, one job can be.
It seems silly when I put it like that, doesn't it? And yet, if we were to meander back through the years, we'd see time after time that I got hit by stress paralysis, fretting about things that were outside my purview, yet letting the things within my purview fall through the cracks.
This isn't new information. I haven't stumbled upon some hidden brilliance. Mother Theresa got it. Ghandi got it. The Bible is absolutely full of advice right along those lines. The painful irony is that I've even spent the better part of two decades telling the children about this. Do what you know to do, and ask for help with the rest. You can only control your own actions, so do your best with what you have to do right now. You don't have to fix everything, but you do need to take care of your own things. Gosh. It goes on. It's embarrassing, really. I should know better.
But I am learning, so that's good. And it's working, which is also good. When you tend to what's in front of you, and do it diligently, you free up the rest of the world to get on with what it needs to do. You have the bandwidth to see how things move together, and to see how the interconnectedness of everything is at play.
And you can know that it will be okay. You may not know how. You may not know when. But you can trust that it will be.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
But something I realized -- fully realized, in my heart of hearts -- this week, is that it truly is enough to do what's been set before you. Do it well. Do it diligently. Let the rest sort itself out. I have a wonderful ability to see the overarching themes of things, to see the whole picture, and that's great. It lets me grasp new ideas quickly. It lets me bring an idea to fruition in a moment. It can be a lot of fun. But it also means that when things are wonky or askew, I see all the things that are wrong, and I want to fixthemallrightnow. I can't. But that doesn't stop me from trying to.
The thing is, though, I expend so much energy in trying to find that one, brilliant maneuver that will do it all (fix it all, finance it all, repair it all, build it all) in one fell swoop that I tend to forget to do what's right in front of me. I see it. I recognize that it's good. But it doesn't seem like ENOUGH. I feel compelled to find that magic bullet, that extra hour in the day, that superhuman strength to lift not just a car, but an entire train. In my efforts to find this elusive big gun, I end up neglecting the things that are legitimately within my scope of influence.
I also end up diminishing my understanding of just how powerful one word, one task, one job can be.
It seems silly when I put it like that, doesn't it? And yet, if we were to meander back through the years, we'd see time after time that I got hit by stress paralysis, fretting about things that were outside my purview, yet letting the things within my purview fall through the cracks.
This isn't new information. I haven't stumbled upon some hidden brilliance. Mother Theresa got it. Ghandi got it. The Bible is absolutely full of advice right along those lines. The painful irony is that I've even spent the better part of two decades telling the children about this. Do what you know to do, and ask for help with the rest. You can only control your own actions, so do your best with what you have to do right now. You don't have to fix everything, but you do need to take care of your own things. Gosh. It goes on. It's embarrassing, really. I should know better.
But I am learning, so that's good. And it's working, which is also good. When you tend to what's in front of you, and do it diligently, you free up the rest of the world to get on with what it needs to do. You have the bandwidth to see how things move together, and to see how the interconnectedness of everything is at play.
And you can know that it will be okay. You may not know how. You may not know when. But you can trust that it will be.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Saturday, January 20
The Birthday Outing
So, it was 11 degrees on Em's birthday. Not inside, obviously, (thankfully) but just knowing it's that cold has an impact. We didn't even get dressed until noon. So, the manicure and the lunch with the boys will have to wait.
BUT, we did go out that day, and we fed her little heart.
First, we went to Anthropologie. I don't shop there. Mainly, because I have very little money. And I have to explain what I've done with it, which would be very hard to do if I spent the entire grocery budget on a throw pillow and a new coffee mug. However, I knew that it would satisfy an aspect of her heart to just BE in that environment. To see things that were designed with an aesthetic that she appreciates. To touch fabrics you don't find at Target or Kohl's, and to peer into designs that are inspired by something bigger than things close to home. To be inspired by what can be done when you have a vision.
We were there for an hour and a half, folks. An hour and a half in a tiny store, and she was not bored for a second. She was awed, and she was thrilled, and she was just quietly enthralled. I followed her around, letting her explain everything to me.
"Mom, feel this bead pattern, now feel this one. See how they feel different?" (For the record, no. My hands are calloused and I hadn't thawed out from the walk to the store yet. But I listened, and smiled, because she was showing me how she experiences the world.)
"Oh, look how they get different results with different knots. Also, they used knots. That's brilliant."
"Ohhhhh, squeeze this. Just grab it in your hands. Isn't that fantastic?"
"We need to find out where you can get this fabric and make one of these."
"Did you touch that plate? You should. It's amazing."
She comes to a dead stop. "Sniff, right here. Do you smell that? What is that?" So we sniffed around and couldn't find the source. We asked an employee to help us find it. She couldn't, either. We have no idea what we were smelling, but it was Stop You In Your Tracks lovely.
Then, we headed to Justice, where she got what I can only describe as her Tween Uniform.
It's adorable. Blessedly, they have a lot of decent, cute stuff this year. It's not an Anthropologie wardrobe, but it works. The ladies who work there were so kind and fun. They made the visit enjoyable. She got a water bottle that the boys won't steal and lose. She got some leggings and some t-shirts. We laughed and poked around. It was a very different vibe, but just as fun.
And now, she is 12. Gosh.
I haven't said it in a while, because (obviously) they aren't babies anymore, but still ...
Kiss those babies!
~ Dy
BUT, we did go out that day, and we fed her little heart.
First, we went to Anthropologie. I don't shop there. Mainly, because I have very little money. And I have to explain what I've done with it, which would be very hard to do if I spent the entire grocery budget on a throw pillow and a new coffee mug. However, I knew that it would satisfy an aspect of her heart to just BE in that environment. To see things that were designed with an aesthetic that she appreciates. To touch fabrics you don't find at Target or Kohl's, and to peer into designs that are inspired by something bigger than things close to home. To be inspired by what can be done when you have a vision.
We were there for an hour and a half, folks. An hour and a half in a tiny store, and she was not bored for a second. She was awed, and she was thrilled, and she was just quietly enthralled. I followed her around, letting her explain everything to me.
"Mom, feel this bead pattern, now feel this one. See how they feel different?" (For the record, no. My hands are calloused and I hadn't thawed out from the walk to the store yet. But I listened, and smiled, because she was showing me how she experiences the world.)
"Oh, look how they get different results with different knots. Also, they used knots. That's brilliant."
"Ohhhhh, squeeze this. Just grab it in your hands. Isn't that fantastic?"
"We need to find out where you can get this fabric and make one of these."
"Did you touch that plate? You should. It's amazing."
She comes to a dead stop. "Sniff, right here. Do you smell that? What is that?" So we sniffed around and couldn't find the source. We asked an employee to help us find it. She couldn't, either. We have no idea what we were smelling, but it was Stop You In Your Tracks lovely.
Then, we headed to Justice, where she got what I can only describe as her Tween Uniform.
It's adorable. Blessedly, they have a lot of decent, cute stuff this year. It's not an Anthropologie wardrobe, but it works. The ladies who work there were so kind and fun. They made the visit enjoyable. She got a water bottle that the boys won't steal and lose. She got some leggings and some t-shirts. We laughed and poked around. It was a very different vibe, but just as fun.
And now, she is 12. Gosh.
I haven't said it in a while, because (obviously) they aren't babies anymore, but still ...
Kiss those babies!
~ Dy
Friday, January 19
And in other news ...
I want to share cute selfies, but they don't exist in my world. My lazy eyelid is getting lazier by the minute (I swear it tried to sneak a bon bon and watch soap operas the other day), and if this keeps up, I'm going to be a walking Picasso piece in about five years. However, ignore that, and I love the picture for several reasons, and those are worth sharing. One, that shirt. I love that shirt.
When the whole cancer thing came up, I had the best cadre of friends to lend support. Some of them were gentle and sincere and somber. These are the people who remind you not to say s**** it and go out in a blaze of tequila-infused glory, but to stay the steady course. God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me several of those. Good call, Lord. I am so thankful for them. Some of them listened. Some of them helped. Some of them sent me inappropriate memes and jokes (both because laughter is the best medicine, and because my tribe is mainly comprised of those who survive through macabre humor), and got me a theme song and a t-shirt! If you need a theme song and don't have one (and you aren't too concerned about having an appropriate theme song, or are, perhaps, just a sucker for Hugh Laurie doing accents), may I suggest this one, by the incomparable Fry and Laurie. Make someone a shirt. It's unique and wonderful and totally worth taking the time to do. The shirt says on the front, "I'm singin' the song, Orrin!" and on the back, it says, "Kickin' Ass". Pick the sayings or phrases that mean something to the person you're supporting. They'll appreciate it for ages. I can't wear this shirt and not smile. Or feel like a big, goofy badass. Truly. It's too big for me now (hallelujah!) but I'm keeping it.
Two, hair. My hair is growing back, and even though my diffuser suffered a mysterious and violent heat-related death a couple weeks ago (so I'm so frizzy most days) (also, it's not that mysterious - I suspect children), I am still thankful to have hair again. I loved having it short -- it gave me a sense of my own strength and reminded me that we're not our outward decorations -- both good lessons. But the regrowing process is also healing and cathartic.
Three, that is a body that is still cancer free. I'm on the books as two years clear, now (which I don't totally get, because it wasn't until my Spring '16 scan that everything was gone-gone, but whatever, I'll take it). The only labs that aren't gorgeous are the ones the Rituxan knocked askew, and Dr. M says those take YEARS (yes, you can hear him speak in all caps when he says it) to recover.
I've still got a monster kidney stone (unrelated, but it goes on the to do list), and I've still got to get the port removed. Probably ought to get on that last bit before I decide to just do it, myself. (I kid. Z, if you're reading this, I'm kidding! Honest!)
And so, that's a load off. There's always increasing static in your head as you near a scan date. It just ramps up, and up, until you think of running to Mexico, or Portugal, or India to see if you can get away from it. But you can't, and so you don't. The only way through the noise is through the process. But good heck, that waiting time is so tense. I'm glad it's over for a while, and anxious to put all that mental wiggle room back to wandering around in circles trying to remember what I was doing.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
When the whole cancer thing came up, I had the best cadre of friends to lend support. Some of them were gentle and sincere and somber. These are the people who remind you not to say s**** it and go out in a blaze of tequila-infused glory, but to stay the steady course. God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me several of those. Good call, Lord. I am so thankful for them. Some of them listened. Some of them helped. Some of them sent me inappropriate memes and jokes (both because laughter is the best medicine, and because my tribe is mainly comprised of those who survive through macabre humor), and got me a theme song and a t-shirt! If you need a theme song and don't have one (and you aren't too concerned about having an appropriate theme song, or are, perhaps, just a sucker for Hugh Laurie doing accents), may I suggest this one, by the incomparable Fry and Laurie. Make someone a shirt. It's unique and wonderful and totally worth taking the time to do. The shirt says on the front, "I'm singin' the song, Orrin!" and on the back, it says, "Kickin' Ass". Pick the sayings or phrases that mean something to the person you're supporting. They'll appreciate it for ages. I can't wear this shirt and not smile. Or feel like a big, goofy badass. Truly. It's too big for me now (hallelujah!) but I'm keeping it.
Two, hair. My hair is growing back, and even though my diffuser suffered a mysterious and violent heat-related death a couple weeks ago (so I'm so frizzy most days) (also, it's not that mysterious - I suspect children), I am still thankful to have hair again. I loved having it short -- it gave me a sense of my own strength and reminded me that we're not our outward decorations -- both good lessons. But the regrowing process is also healing and cathartic.
Three, that is a body that is still cancer free. I'm on the books as two years clear, now (which I don't totally get, because it wasn't until my Spring '16 scan that everything was gone-gone, but whatever, I'll take it). The only labs that aren't gorgeous are the ones the Rituxan knocked askew, and Dr. M says those take YEARS (yes, you can hear him speak in all caps when he says it) to recover.
I've still got a monster kidney stone (unrelated, but it goes on the to do list), and I've still got to get the port removed. Probably ought to get on that last bit before I decide to just do it, myself. (I kid. Z, if you're reading this, I'm kidding! Honest!)
And so, that's a load off. There's always increasing static in your head as you near a scan date. It just ramps up, and up, until you think of running to Mexico, or Portugal, or India to see if you can get away from it. But you can't, and so you don't. The only way through the noise is through the process. But good heck, that waiting time is so tense. I'm glad it's over for a while, and anxious to put all that mental wiggle room back to wandering around in circles trying to remember what I was doing.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Monday, January 15
Birthday Ideas
I've accidentally published this post twice without meaning to because the pads of my hands keep bumping the little track pad on my laptop, tabbing me all over the place, one spot of which seems to be the Publish button. I need a little pad protector to put on it so that I can type without having to worry about my fat hands engaging that pad. (James would say I need to install Linux, which has a two-second delay before the thing activates, or something like that. I am almost there ...)
Anyway, with Em's birthday coming up, I started pestering her for ideas back in August. Because that's how you have to do with the gentle thinkers. You can't just hit them up at Costco the day of and say, "What do you want to do today? Sky's the limit!" They freeze, and you end up buying them an .89 bladder buster and a 30-roll pack of paper towels. I learned this the hard way.
After much mulling and thinking (seriously - it was January before she got back to me on most of this), she decided she'd like to get her ears pierced, get a manicure (she's hoping this will help her not bite her nails), go to lunch with the boys, and redo her room.
So, we started putting a plan in action. She got her ears pierced this weekend.
I've no clue on the manicure, and haven't had the bandwidth to track that down, but I'll do that today. Lunch with the boys will be at the 88. That's where they eat. It's what they do. It's their thing. It's also the only place in town you can get spicy squid, which is Very Important to Jase. (And? All this time, I had no idea they had a website. That's so cool!)
Her room is functional, but it's a mash-up of Stuff Her Brothers Didn't Want, Stuff She's Duct Taped or Sewn, and then things that usually began with, "Oh, crap, you probably need sheets (shelves, hangers, etc.), don't you?" So, it's functional, but other than the constant craft debris littering the floor, you'd never guess anyone lived there on purpose. She wanted to fix that.
She's been going through it, fixing up what she can with what we had on hand (this isn't as sad as it sounds - we have a lot on hand) and making a list of what she'll need. She's been making little changes, such as snagging a mint green sheet from the linen closet to go with her pink bedding, hanging lights above the window shades, adding pastels here and there, hanging drawings on the walls.
She asked if we can paint her bookshelf white with pink, yellow and blue distressed spots. (I said yes before I realized we were actually going to have Winter this year. We have to paint in the garage or outside, so she may be able to do that for Easter. Or Memorial Day. It's not happening on her actual birthday, though.)
Last week, she asked if she could "do something about that sad brown lamp shade". Of course. Good thing she'd asked for "virtually unlimited duct tape" and "gel pens of my very own" for Christmas! It's the gift that keeps on giving.
I only recently realized that what she really asked for for her birthday was to be left alone to craft. LOL! Clever girl. So that's what we shall do for her birthday - give her glue and stay out of the way. It's how she knows she's loved.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Anyway, with Em's birthday coming up, I started pestering her for ideas back in August. Because that's how you have to do with the gentle thinkers. You can't just hit them up at Costco the day of and say, "What do you want to do today? Sky's the limit!" They freeze, and you end up buying them an .89 bladder buster and a 30-roll pack of paper towels. I learned this the hard way.
After much mulling and thinking (seriously - it was January before she got back to me on most of this), she decided she'd like to get her ears pierced, get a manicure (she's hoping this will help her not bite her nails), go to lunch with the boys, and redo her room.
So, we started putting a plan in action. She got her ears pierced this weekend.
I've no clue on the manicure, and haven't had the bandwidth to track that down, but I'll do that today. Lunch with the boys will be at the 88. That's where they eat. It's what they do. It's their thing. It's also the only place in town you can get spicy squid, which is Very Important to Jase. (And? All this time, I had no idea they had a website. That's so cool!)
Her room is functional, but it's a mash-up of Stuff Her Brothers Didn't Want, Stuff She's Duct Taped or Sewn, and then things that usually began with, "Oh, crap, you probably need sheets (shelves, hangers, etc.), don't you?" So, it's functional, but other than the constant craft debris littering the floor, you'd never guess anyone lived there on purpose. She wanted to fix that.
She's been going through it, fixing up what she can with what we had on hand (this isn't as sad as it sounds - we have a lot on hand) and making a list of what she'll need. She's been making little changes, such as snagging a mint green sheet from the linen closet to go with her pink bedding, hanging lights above the window shades, adding pastels here and there, hanging drawings on the walls.
She asked if we can paint her bookshelf white with pink, yellow and blue distressed spots. (I said yes before I realized we were actually going to have Winter this year. We have to paint in the garage or outside, so she may be able to do that for Easter. Or Memorial Day. It's not happening on her actual birthday, though.)
Last week, she asked if she could "do something about that sad brown lamp shade". Of course. Good thing she'd asked for "virtually unlimited duct tape" and "gel pens of my very own" for Christmas! It's the gift that keeps on giving.
I only recently realized that what she really asked for for her birthday was to be left alone to craft. LOL! Clever girl. So that's what we shall do for her birthday - give her glue and stay out of the way. It's how she knows she's loved.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Saturday, January 13
You Beautiful People!
This week has been so encouraging.
A friend is applying for a position that would be practically perfect - both for her, and for the organization. I'm so excited and hopeful for her!
The boys have gushed and gushed about their classes and instructors. I'm so appreciative that they talk to me.
One of the boys has demonstrated that he can, in fact, get his shizzle done when a ride is on the line. I'm, um, so glad he can catch on!
A friend has been on fire lately with thoughtful things and being her typical loving, encouraging self.
People all over the place are helping each other out, sharing what they have, doing good things to skew their worlds for the better. That's very encouraging.
Z is making plow discs in his spare time. I love that he's using his creative energies!
We got snow! It was a lame snow, but it was snow. Didn't stick and the roads are clear, so that's like getting a double bonus of appreciation.
What's been encouraging in your world this week?
Be encouraged (or encouraging)!
~ Dy
A friend is applying for a position that would be practically perfect - both for her, and for the organization. I'm so excited and hopeful for her!
The boys have gushed and gushed about their classes and instructors. I'm so appreciative that they talk to me.
One of the boys has demonstrated that he can, in fact, get his shizzle done when a ride is on the line. I'm, um, so glad he can catch on!
A friend has been on fire lately with thoughtful things and being her typical loving, encouraging self.
People all over the place are helping each other out, sharing what they have, doing good things to skew their worlds for the better. That's very encouraging.
Z is making plow discs in his spare time. I love that he's using his creative energies!
We got snow! It was a lame snow, but it was snow. Didn't stick and the roads are clear, so that's like getting a double bonus of appreciation.
What's been encouraging in your world this week?
Be encouraged (or encouraging)!
~ Dy
Friday, January 12
The nice thing about getting old ...
... Is that I can finally get my test results same day as the test. Until then, however, I have to wait a week to hear how it went. Nothing big, just the routine PET scan. If this one's clear, I don't have to go back for two years! If it's not clear, I'll have to take a deep breath and just try again. Either way, we won't know until next week.
Fortunately, the rest of the day was busy enough that I didn't have time to dwell on it.
My favorite part of the day, though, was coming home to find James and Jacob playing Mario Kart together, absolutely howling with laughter. What a fantastic greeting!
It's super late, now, and I'm exhausted-but-wired.
I think I'll take a book and see if I can fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. It's my favorite way to wrap up a day!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
Fortunately, the rest of the day was busy enough that I didn't have time to dwell on it.
My favorite part of the day, though, was coming home to find James and Jacob playing Mario Kart together, absolutely howling with laughter. What a fantastic greeting!
It's super late, now, and I'm exhausted-but-wired.
I think I'll take a book and see if I can fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. It's my favorite way to wrap up a day!
Be encouraged!
~ Dy
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