Outnumbered

Nap Time

2012-01-27T10:57:00.000-08:00

We are in transition. To nap or not to nap. The pattern has been two days of napping followed by two days of no napping. The no-napping-days are pretty stressful by dinner time...fussy guy and fussy mama.

Often, I find my little guy like this:

Toys for a Three-Year-Old Boy

2012-01-25T09:42:00.000-08:00

One of my posts that continues to be popular is the one I wrote last year about what to buy my two-year-old son. Now it is time for an update since that same little boy is approaching three at wild speeds!

He still plays and loves his Thomas the Train set. I could get him more accessories this year, but we just got him some fun things for Christmas. (Rumbling Bridge and Toby's Windmill) And I know in this next year his train obsession will wane as it did for his older brothers as they went from three to four.

He loves Beyblades, but what he really loves to do with his Beyblades is disassemble them and interchange the parts.

Here is the "problem": he already has everything he could ever want. This is what happens when you are the 3rd of three boys. Our house has plenty of toys and he has plenty of things to do with his time. He's excellent at playing by himself and coming up with childhood adventures without the aid of more play things.

Of course, a mama can't not buy him something. So I did purchase him a little music and drum set. I hope he loves it. I hope the parts don't get scattered throughout our house. But I'm feeling confident. This little one loves music! He's constantly singing, playing drums, and finding ways to create tunes and rhythms. His favorite activity is dancing with his brothers. The spend a good portion of their after-school-time dancing upstairs to rock 'n roll music, off of Daddy's IPOD. Guess I could get him his own IPOD, but that seems totally ridiculous, right?

Fine Motor Skills Manipulative: Total Engagement

2012-01-16T10:23:00.000-08:00

A very archaic laptop took up space on our desk, much to my husband's annoyance. He wondered why I kept it there. Not sure. I thought about donating it to my son's preschool...they have a mechanics center where kids take apart small electronics with tools. But then a better idea whizzed through my cranium, "Set up my own center for find motor skills! The boys were in heaven and so was Dad. I think I might start picking up these little treasure from time to time at thrift stores. It is my latest parenting tip!

Anticipate: My 2012 Word

2012-01-11T13:52:00.000-08:00

I’m being attacked by New Year’s pressure, pressure to make a resolution…at least one. Every day it seems like I come across an article on how to improve my life, my cleaning, my eating, and or my body sculpting. I try and resist these bombardments, but in all my post-holiday-hustle-and-bustle I did come across a list of house goals I had made for myself three years ago. I had misplaced this list and had only kept it around long enough to mark off ¼ of it. But, get this: with great joy I picked up a pen and crossed out every remaining item on that piece of scratch paper, 19 in total. I completed them all!

This moment felt providential, like I was being prodded and whispered to that yes indeed, I should make some plans, make some goals, some resolutions. Obviously my past “resolutions” had been successful. I had redecorated and painted the back bathroom, office, master bedroom, hallway, piano room, and boys’ bedrooms….outside stands our kids’ play structure and a very used and loved BBQ. I had written and published a book, taken several planned trips with my family, and become involved in my son’s school through various volunteer activities. Accomplishment feels good.
I have new ideas and goals for the next few years swirling around in my head. In fact, I chose a word to frame my year around: anticipate! I want to sign my oldest up for piano and art lessons. I want to take a family trip to Yellowstone and Disneyland. I want to continue to remove the wallpaper in my two-year-old’s bedroom. A started this, deviously, during naptime. Oh, and I definitely want to get my youngest potty trained. It is time for a new era in the Schneiter home, the No-More-Diapers-For Me-Era. I’d like to finish the rest of the siding on our house. But most of all, the thing I think I really want to focus on is releasing myself of some of my mommy commitments.

Nearly seven years ago I made a huge life shift from working woman to stay-at-home-mamma. It was hard. I have to admit: I didn’t really like it. I found myself getting through the day by focusing on 30 minute increments of time: fold laundry, plan dinner, walk to the park, story time, read books, give bath….the exciting, fast-pace, energizing, and exhausting day of being a teacher offered a bit more stimulation in contrast to a day with one newborn baby. So I filled my days with meaningful outlets that allowed me to integrate my life and the life of my children into one: mom group, indoor park, play dates, preschool volunteer, teach Sunday school, coordinate school newsletter, write, writing group, book group, direct church women’s retreat, lead a small group for our church…..the problem is that as I progress through life’s natural evolution I have continued to add great outlets to my docket and have not allowed any of my activities to go extinct, making my days busy, harried, and a bit too much. On top of that, I am feeling the transition out of the preschool years. (By Fall I will have two out of three boys in full-day school!) I think my role will be looking different and changing once again in the next few years, and I want to be ready for it. I eagerly anticipate this.

I anticipate the New Year and the next few New Years to come. I want to be ready for them and what they will throw at me. I want to transition well and learn, once again, how to organize my day. I am eager to find another list and be able to cross everything off of it knowing I have done well. And so I will embrace the tradition of resolutions and make my goals. I can’t wait to find this new list and cross every item off of it!

Wishing you an excellent 2012!

Happy New Year

2012-01-04T09:03:00.000-08:00

I am quite optimistic about this new year. I am excited for what it brings:

-summer with Daddy home, he promises not to take a summer job like in years past
-house projects, finishing our siding
-camping this summer, a lot, with the boys
-building a tree fort
-two boys in full-time school!
-wrapping up old commitments and opening myself up to new directions/opportunities
-finishing up my next writing project and sending it out to the "right people"

The Face of the Unwrap

2011-12-28T21:13:00.001-08:00

I could never quite capture their looks as they unwrapped their presents, and then I realized I did it perfectly. How about you?

Top Ten Toys to Not Get!

2011-12-16T09:16:00.000-08:00

I've been writing this post for weeks, each time I sneak a toy into the garbage or give-away-closet. Nothing is worse than an annoying toy that's only purpose it to hurt bare feet as you maneuver your way across the floor. And there is nothing more glorious than a toy that gets played with over and over again...and is not a video game!

I read in our local paper that the best toys are the ones that are 90% kid and only 10% toy. The examples would be a plain doll: 90% kids/10% toy or a Tickle-Me-Elmo: 90% toy and 10% kid.

So here are items to avoid:

1. Bakuguns: at first they seemed fabulous, but for my kids they were not long-lasting. They lasted the afternoon, but that was about it. I know there is a game to play with them, but I nor the kids put the energy into playing by the rules.

2. Trick Tracks: the funny thing about this, is that I posted on this about three years ago, raving about how great they were. I have a box full of them and most of them are broken and no one plays with them.

3. Coloring books: so I've discovered that my boys, and maybe all boys, prefer white drawing paper or puzzle/maze books, but not coloring books. I have a drawer of these classic coloring books that I should use for fire starter.

4. Small action figures found at McDonalds: throw all of these away or just don't buy them! I guess they are good for a road trip and some mindless entertainments in the van.

5. A super cool, child's accordion: I bought this before my oldest was born and had visions of kids playing tunes on it for hours. I think, in the last 6 years, it has been played for no more that 5 seconds at a time, but I still keep it because it looks cool and I never step on it.

6. Mini-skate boards: I think my kids are too young, not sure. But my oldest was sure he wanted some and a mini-state ramp. I never step on this either because it never leaves the toy shelves.

7. Tinker Toys: I really thought these would be great, but there are just too many pieces and the tubs do not come with enough to allow for any to get lost. Once you loose a few, you can't really make anything very exciting. I'm ready to haul these off, but I keep them around hoping my youngest might discover them on lonely days when his older brothers are in school.

8. Lincoln Logs: Also something my oldest did play with right around age two, but I ended up doing must of the building and once they were old enough to build with them, they lost all interest. You can pretty much only build square structures and there isn't enough room for imagination.

9. Transformers: I hate these things. They are too hard for my boys to transform, so I spend a lot of time doing it and then they eventually break. The idea of them is cool, but I think it is better to let them watch a 30 min. episode and then play-act the story than actually buy them a plastic version.

10. Dodge Ball set with Velcro vest and balls: You'd think this would be a great gift, but it isn't. The balls are too light to really be thrown any distance and even my husband and I had trouble getting them to stick onto the vests. Just let your kids throw pillows at each other as they run across the living room, way more fun.

The Top Ten List of Toys to Get is coming.....

What's On Your Christmas Tree?

2011-12-08T09:25:00.000-08:00

I know you are jealous of my kid-theme-tree. I had a very heavy, ugly, dough ornament that I made as a child, and I made sure it always had a place on our family tree. As I got older I still wanted it on our tree, but would hide it near the back and toward the bottom.

This is my son's ugly ornament he made two years ago with his Grammy. And that is why he loves it. I suggested we not hang it, "No, I made that with Grammy!" And so it is front and center.

What ugly ornament adorns your tree and why?

Wolf Ears

2011-11-29T09:45:00.000-08:00

We were the last family to get a microwave, the last family to get a colored TV, the last family to get a VCR, and the last family to get a cordless phone and answering machine. Notice the trend? I’m repeating the cycle of being technologically deprived with my own children. They do not own any gaming systems, portable or otherwise, and neither of their parents owns an iPhone.

At church, the other day, I sat behind a mom roughly my age with young children. Our families have many parallels, but then she stood to sing and out of her coat pocket fell her iPhone. I smiled to myself wondering when I would get one, someday, I guess. It’s a little inevitable.

But for now, I am appearing very archaic and old-fashioned. I got made fun of at a school board meeting when I pulled out my paper calendar to write down an important date. My husband pointed out that my lack of electronics is equal to having a parent with a fanny pack. I think he might be right.

One major reason we aren’t keeping us is money. We live on a pretty strict budget. However, I know other people who live on tight budgets who do have these gadgets. So, that is not entirely it. I’m sure if it was more of a priority we’d have them.

My parents did an excellent job of modeling want and need, maybe to the extreme. My sister and I often laugh at these childhood memories. When we took vacations, we skipped meals. Visiting the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock is still as vivid to me now as it was in 1988. Why? Because I was hungry, starving. We had breakfast and had been hitting the significant East Coast historical sites at a vicious pace. It was about 2 o’clock and we were all hungry, although not complaining. Then I saw it, the ice cream cart. I knew my father’s weakness for ice cream and knew this was our big chance. He caved and later admitted that his stomach was growling too.

When my sister and I ran track, my mother would give us five dollars to split after our meets for food. Even in the early 90’s five dollars didn’t go very far. But we were clever girls and were able to get what we needed by using a little savvy and strategy.

Hans and I recently took the boys to Great Wolf Lodge. (Our children are hardly deprived and neither were my sister and I.) I often tell the boys, “Well, we could spend our money on that, but then we would not be able to do….” And when we do chose to do something extra I say, “We are doing this because we planned and saved for it.

It was a good mini-vacation. We enjoyed the water park. We did not enjoy the consumerism that surrounded us. This place was designed to get you to spend money. Just the way the halls and stores within the lodge were designed tempted children to say, “Please, mom, please. Can I have those wolf ears?” At the evening story time I noticed that my boys were the only children not wearing the signature wolf-ear-headbands. They seemed just as happy. They also seemed to be the only children not being photographed during the story hour. The mom beside me spent the whole story time editing one shot she took of her wolf clad child with her phone, zooming in and out, cropping, and then posting the shot to FB as soon as her picture was perfect for social viewing.

My oldest is playing basketball and loving it. Last night were his team pictures. I was the only parent who had not purchased a photo package. I did feel a bit embarrassed as I asked, after the professional was through with the team, if I could get a team shot with the camera I had brought from home. Everyone cooperated. I even got a solo shot of Bren holding his treasured basketball. He beamed and smiled.

On our drive home I started to regret my choice, “Honey, was that embarrassing for you? Were you OK that I brought my own camera and took a picture of you?”
He nodded and smiled, “No that was just fine. You know, sometimes if you buy certain things then you can’t buy other things like toilet paper.”

I’m sure there will come a time when I can’t get away with all this frugality, but I think the lesson is being learned and a healthy foundation is being laid within my boys. And when the time is right, one of these Christmases, they’ll be an Xbox under the Christmas tree and iPhone in my hands to document the much anticipated moment.

Prayer: Part 2

2011-11-18T09:33:00.000-08:00

I am doing life. I am continuing my routine, showing up at scheduled events, being a mom, attending grade school feast parties, taking my kids to their basketball games, and yet there is a constant prayer and concern running through my thoughts at all times. And I'm not even a "direct" casualty of this tragic event. A dear childhood and current friend was in a accident six days ago and is in ICU, critical condition...so many unknowns. She's in a coma, this is the first time I've known someone intimately who has ever been there, here, but not accessible. It is a strange feeling.

The other day I found a note with her handwriting on it. Handwriting is strangely intimate and I loved it. I find myself wanting to text and call her. Wednesday was a strange day for me because we'd made plans to spend the morning together. It didn't happen.

I hate to sound like this is all about me, because it really is not. It is about her. It is about her children. It is about her family. It is about her parents. And it is about God. I keep thinking back on my post I wrote about prayer, about submitting and surrendering. I find myself doing that a lot with my friend. But there is a new element to my prayers: hope and power.

I find my mind thinking of Jesus and how if he was with us right now, he'd march into that hospital and heal her on the spot. I just know he would. But, he's not here. Then I think, but he left us with someone, we are not alone...or at least that is what I was taught and this is what I know as I look back over my 34 years of life. The Holy Spirit. When I find myself grieving and upset, saddened...that isn't just me, that is Jesus in me. I feel like I'm being prompted to take a risk and pray for the miraculous, to tap into that image of God within me...for my friend.

That is just a small piece of the greater picture that is currently going on in this situation. This is just one small layer that is surrounding this dear friend who is also created in the image of God.

Friday Photo, on Thursday

2011-11-17T14:20:00.000-08:00

This is pretty cute, right?

God-Sighting 15,089-Prayer

2011-11-11T09:47:00.001-08:00

Prayer is one of those strange things God wants us to do. Strange because we aren't sure it is really doing anything. Or at least that is how I feel sometimes. Recently I have found myself in relationships with several people who are making choices that aren't giving them life's best. (Note: I am the same way. It is just easier to see it in others, oops.)

I found myself wondering if I was saying enough, encouraging enough, loving enough. Surely there was more I could do to get them to see why God gives us certain instructions. He doesn't just come up with a list of guidelines because he rolled the dice one day up in heaven and poof: The Ten Commandments! He created this earth perfect for us. It is our perfect place for us, his creation. We fit it well. There is a reason we love it. A reason we swell with pure contentment when we see that perfect sunset or climb that high mountain. (Sorry if this is too cliche'.) We are supposed to feel this way. He made it with us in mind. And he created us to be in his image. If we are in his image, when we act outside of his image, it doesn't work out so well for us. There are certain consequences that follow as a natural result.

Anyway, I found myself frustrated that my dear friends weren't living fully into this image of God. Recently I have been given a few close friends who speak boldly into my life and speak truth to me, and one of these friends pointed out that I had in fact done all I needed to do...except one thing: pray. And then it hit me, prayer was my act of being in God's image. It was my tangible way of saying that I did believe that God works, that I was submitting myself to God and handing my worries to him. This was, in fact, an act of worship.

So I did it and am doing it. I'm seeing the Holy Spirit work, I'm seeing God-sightings in these situations and it makes my heart praise! It is good to be open to the workings of God. It is a major faith boost, which is really what I needed right now in my life. God is truly good and knows where we are all at intimately. It was good to be reminded of this. It was good to be reminded that God is all-powerful and all-loving.

I've been feeling guilty for not being in a structure Bible Study, guilt I carry with me from my evangelical upbringing, but this recent God-sighting helped me realize that this life-lesson was probably taught to me in some study somewhere along the way, but I didn't really learn it, know it. The best Bible study God could give me is just being in loving relationship with others. For this I am humbled.

The Author Bug

2011-11-05T08:53:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure when I decided that I wanted to be a writer. I do remember lugging out the heavy typewriter in the third grade and attempting to start and complete my first novel right then and there on the circular, 70's, rag rug in our living room.

I think it had to do with audience. I've always loved the power of captivating an audience either with humor or with good thought. Story is a celebrated power in my family, starting with my Grandpa....another reason I wanted to write?

My son, who is in the 1st grade, found one of my writings from when I was in the 1st grade. He found this very amusing.

Here is what he read: (I am typing it just as I wrote it, so there will be mistakes for you to discover.)

My family, written by Rebekah.

My job at home is to get the eggs. (There was a drawing of a large red chicken shed and the attic was full of eggs.)
Something my family likes to do is work and play. My mom work inside and washe the dishe. My sister plays my dad and me work too.
My house is white and green. My house is nice and warm. My family has a dog and cats too.

My son had some criticism, "Mom, you should have drawn your pictures on the same pages as the words so I didn't have to flip over to see them." Good point B, thanks for that editing advise 30 plus years later.

Things I noticed: I liked my family and my house. My sister, in all the drawings had really long, red hair. My dad worked. He still does. This is an accurate observation. While some men have hobbies that take them away from their homes, my dad's hobby has been working around the house and property. My favorite part is that I thought my house was warm. Must have been warm with love because our house was freezing back then. We heated with only wood and if my dad was not home to get he fire started my mom never even tried and so we just froze until he came home.

Random Thoughts

2011-10-27T08:51:00.000-07:00

I've been having them, thoughts. I just haven't been finding the time to write or process about them. I was sharing this with my friend Jen who also blogs and we both admitted that we are doing good if we both get one blog a week off these days. We are both transitioning out of the preschool years and have kids in both elementary and preschool. We talked about how no-nap-time has changed our writing routine...like now I really don't have one.

If I write it means that my kids are zoning to the TV. I'm not one of those writers who gets up early to work my craft, nor stays up late. Then there is the little problem of sharing one working computer. This is not a hardship. I'm very aware of the fact that owning a computer is a luxury. But everyone wants to use it: me, my husband, the boys....I almost need to have my own secret laptop that I keep hidden and then can pull out and type away on when all family members are good and occupied by some creative endeavor.

Here are my thoughts recently:

1. I really don't love that my 1st grader gets technology a few times a week. My son is very computer savvy and doesn't need more screen time at school. However, I realize other kids do not have computers. Still, I wish he was playing at recess or working on some spacial, hands-on activity instead.

2. Two years in a row, I feel like my oldest has gotten an excellent teacher. He's learning a ton. And guess what we are discovering about him: he's a hard worker and very self-driven. My husband was very relieved by this recent announcement of mine. Sometimes I find myself encouraging B to relax and take a break. Last night he wanted to practice his flashcards, all on his own. And he also never wants to take a night off from reading to me. I do love it, but the other night he was sick and coughing and I thought, "Maybe this night we could just skip it." (My good friend Jessica pointed out that I am a very driven person...true.)

3. I am getting tired of reading about the stock market and economy. One day it is up, one day down. Sometimes in the same newspaper, there will be two columns: one declaring financial doom and next to it another one singing of the excellence of Caterpillar stock. I wish everyone would relax and trust the process. I feel like it is working itself out. (I'm not sure I totally feel this way, but when I read articles like this I do.)

4. My pastor asked me to contribute to a church blog. I was very honored that he thinks I have something worthy to share. Now I'm stressing because I can't think of anything great to say. This helped me realize that I haven't journaled to/with God in a long time. Which reminded me to not "neglect my first love." I've been writing my prayers to God since I was a preteen. Some people feel close to God through activity, through nature, through worship, through prayer....God and I have always written together. I need to get back to that.

So, there are just a few of my random thoughts. Others include: newspapers, the China bubble, Christmas shopping, good friends, fall weather.....

Updates and Contests

2011-10-20T09:45:00.000-07:00

Just thought I'd point out that I have a new blog family photo and that I went for the collage approach since that is what most readers wanted. Some of you responded on here and others let me know via FB.

Also, there is another contest going on at the Just Moms Facebook page. Basically, get a new friend to "like" our book and introduce us to them on our wall, and you and your friend will be entered into a drawing to win a free copy. The deadline is Oct. 31st.

A Homemade Life: A Discovered Passion

2011-10-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

I have never used the word passion and cooking to describe my feelings toward my time spent in the kitchen, although I do plenty of it. I cook three meals a day, and we rarely eat out. I actually cook a hot breakfast each morning for my children, and dinner time with family is given a high priority in our home. I see great value in good food and in spending time with my family enjoying that good food. (Restaurants are great, but not very relaxing...a bit noisy, way overpriced, and my husband and I never get to linger and visit at the table while the boys run off to play once their plates are clean.) I'm not a professional foodie, not hippie enough, but I do appreciate the food movement.

However, I would rather work outside or on a writing project and have a hired cook than spend as much time as I do working in my kitchen.

My book group picked to read A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg. They promised me I'd like it. That it would inspire me to cook. OK. I wasn't buying it. But get this...I really did like the book. I love Molly's writing style. She is an expert blogger and her chapter essays ooze with excellent writer's voice and a relational style that creates an intimacy with her readers/following. She has a blog called the Orangette. I loved reading about her intimate relationships that all involved food. And, I loved many of her recipes in the book. I tired several.

Each chapter is a story in itself with a recipe at the end that ties it all together. For example, the chapter that deals with her father's losing fight with cancer and their shared moments of clarity over an egg dish then includes the recipe for "Eggs Grotto" at the end.

I'm planning on buying this book for myself, read the library copy, and keeping it in my kitchen cupboard. The bummer is that I wish there was a recipe book version only so that the pages of her brilliant wit wouldn't become stained with various food matter as I whip and serve these recipes, but Molly would probably like that. She'd think it was fitting.

And I learned something about myself from this read, bonus! I like cooking....when I don't have to follow a recipe. I like cooking savory items because of this. I am quite pleased with myself when I can make a yummy soup by putting things out of my pantry and making it work. I feel more free, more romantic, and more bohemian when I'm cooking without the constrains of rules and measurements. Now I just need to take some professional cooking classes so I can do this with more successes than failures, or my family might not find our time around the table so enjoyable.

Needing New Family Photo: Vote!

2011-10-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

I was told that my kids look nothing like the main photo on this blog, and that should be correct since it was almost a year ago that we had the picture above taken.

So, here is the soon-to-be-new-blog-photo. I thought I'd let the old one stay so you can compare and contrast, but starting Tuesday...no more old photo to view.

But perhaps the second shot is more appropriate...you get to vote!

I Am A Soccer Coach, Yep You Read that Right

2011-10-14T09:15:00.000-07:00

I have a new passion. It isn’t Kit-Kat bars, chia tea, shopping at Costco, or even Zumba…like some of my past passions. It is quite ironic really. This soccer wife has turned soccer coach. Yep, you read that right. I am my son’s 1st and 2nd grade soccer coach.

When I first announced to B that I would be “wearing a whistle” he gave me a puzzled and skeptical look, “Don’t worry. I’ll get all my ideas from Daddy.” There was a marked, physical reaction of relief.

I was nervous, but after our first practice I actually felt a bit in my element: telling young children what to do and making sure they had smiles on their faces the entire time. I have six kids on my team and we play with a max of four players on the field, so it is right at my soccer level, but I am finding that after being the “coach’s wife” for over a decade, I have actually caught on to a few very basic rules, plays, and overall general coaching philosophy. I guess all my husband’s post-game talks late at night have paid off.

I find myself using phrases I have heard Hans say like, “Keep square to the ball. Play to feet. Don’t hold on to the ball, pass it. Keep shape. Remember, we play our style.”

In our second match the opposing team’s coach, another mom, looked very nervous, admitting that she’d never coached before.

“Oh, me too. Don’t worry.” But I think she probably hates me now and decided I was playing a sick, cruel joke because compared to her team my group played some beautiful soccer. (This is when I should probably mention that five of the six players have been to one of my husband’s soccer camps…several times.) We were passing. We were fluid. Kids were holding their positions. Our defenders were reading the game well and going out and winning balls only to set up the plays again in our favor. I mean, I was ecstatic. I’m sure in a few years B is going to find me totally embarrassing, but for now he’s so excited to be playing on a real team that he doesn’t seem to notice the loud, vocal coach, who happens to be his mom, shouting at everyone.

I find myself running up and down the sidelines, hollering at the kids to pass to open players, reminding them to “shake hands with the line”, and guiding them toward sweet victory. (This is also when I should probably tell you that a good coach never does this type of “coaching” during a game. My husband chastised me after our second match.) But we were all feeling quite good about ourselves. We aren’t supposed to keep score, but I secretly love that the kids do. I mean, what’s wrong with a little competition? Shouldn’t kids learn to win and to loose, not just get participation points leaving everyone feeling “good” about having fun with a ball? (I might not feel this way if we are ever the recipients of a blowout.)

By the end of each match, I’m exhausted. My adrenaline has pumped a bit too much, and I’m in need of a cool down. I’m so happy though, so proud of my team. At our second game, everyone got at least one shot on goal and most got it through the middle of the two, red flags! Nothing feels better than seeing a seven-year-old score! And nothing feels better to a coach than seeing these kids beam with soccer love.

And then it dawned on me, the true reason my husband loves coaching soccer. Yeah, we all know he loves the game, but I think what keeps him doing it season after season is that there is something rewarding about working with youth, seeing them succeed, and hearing them express how good they feel about all their hard work and end results. And I think this is the passion that I am currently, truly, addicted too. It’s not really about the game of soccer, it’s about the kids.

A Rage Like No Other

2011-10-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

I guess I’m still in need of refinement. My youngest tested my ability to keep my cool this morning by throwing a ginormous fit that lasted a full 35 minutes. I felt a bit helpless because he threw this fit while I was driving away from the bank. It was obvious that something had not gone his way, but we were all amiss as to what.
I am continually impressed with this third child and find myself saying, “Well, you’d better go far in life mister,” due to his perseverance and determination, also known as being stubborn and strong-willed.

A's two older brothers were in the van with me watching the rage and trying their best to distract A, cajole A, and threaten A into obedience. I heard B speak calmly, “Use your words A. Tell us what you want.” I smiled at B’s attempt to parent. Wonder where he’s heard that line before? But instead of being rewarded by a calm explanation there was more screaming, more kicking.

C tried another approach, “Stop it A. You are being naughty. Mom, he’s trying to get out of his seat. He’s trying to get out of the van. A, stop, this is not safe!” The yell and scare tactic, another one I often pull out of my parenting tool belt.

I tried also, really, I did. I was becoming a very distracted driver and so my oldest suggested that I pull over immediately before we all ended up in a car accident.

By this point A had freed his upper body from the 5-point-harness and was screaming, “I want out! I want out!” I guess he was taking B’s advice and using his words.

A was trying to unlock the moving van’s door with his left foot, as he successfully lowered the window with his left pinky finger. I did win this small battle by pushing the child-lock-window-button and by keeping the van in motion which has a child-safety-feature: while the van is moving, no side doors can be opened. Go Honda Odyssey engineers.

I pulled over. I’ve been working with this very interesting final installment of Schneiter’s procreation now for exactly 2 and ½ years, and I’ve discovered that the soft approach works best. I got out of the van and opened his door. I stroked his sweet face, only a mother would find this angry face sweet. I said things like, “Honey, you need to stay in your car seat. You need to stay in the van. You need to stop. You need to be safe. What do you want? Use your words. Do you want mommy to buckle you back in or do you want to do it?”

“A do it!” This was followed by even more intense and loud raging, the kind I’ve never seen or heard before. I was afraid the other people in the parking lot were going to report me because surely a child screaming that loudly was being mistreated by their mother, no one would stop to think that it was I that was being mistreated by my son. At this point I wanted to wither up and cry. But then there was a slight pause.

“OK, now, we are leaving and going home, thank you.”

It was merely the eye of the storm. The brief break was just a reprieve before the hurricane’s onslaught. I found myself trying to tune it out, focus on the road. My oldest offered to help me drive by pointing out all the stop signs and merging traffic. We promised and reassured each other that A would give up, eventually. Surely he wouldn’t last the entire trip home. The town we were in was a good 35 minute drive from our house.

C and B plugged their ears with their fingers and took their little minds to another, peaceful place. I was jealous of their Zen skills as little feet and legs wildly kicked the back of my seat. I kept waiting for a police officer to pull me over and ask me if I was a fit parent and a fit driver…if I needed to sign up for some parenting classes, maybe I did. Maybe I should. I have been parenting now for almost seven years, and I was at a loss. None of my usual tactics were working.

A did not stop screaming until we pulled into our driveway and he knew the ride was over. I let him out of his car seat. He crawled onto my lap, a puddle of tears and exhaustion, “Sorry mommy, sorry.” It was nice for him to say sorry, but by this point in time I was the one who wanted to create a scene. My scene would be a pity party. I wanted to melt into the driver’s seat and cry, “Oh A, why? Why were you so angry? Why were you so unreasonable?”

And then I turned a bad mommy moment into a constructive one because two out of the three children had been brilliant, “Boys,” I turned to my older sons, “I am really proud of you for putting up with all that craziness. You were very patient.”

B smiled, “I just tried to relax my body.”

I’ve decided to give myself a golden star in the good mommy column. Wouldn’t you?

Oh Bank of America, Don't Do It

2011-10-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

I'm very upset by Bank of America's plans to start charging a monthly 5 dollar debit-card-use-fee. That equals 60 bucks a year for the right to swipe your card, to spend your own money. The thing is, banks have been pushing for customers to use their debit cards. It helps avoid the whole bounce checked idea.

I am glad I am not a Bank of America customer, and I'm hoping those who are will jump ship. I hope they experience the "Netflix Syndrome" and that their plans to gain revenue backfires....not because I want to see this bank go under, but because I do not want other banks to follow suite, including my own.

Like my husband pointed out, we will just switch all our accounts to our credit union, which we are liking more and more these days. The other night I was looking over our bank accounts and noticed all these monthly fees that we'd never had before. I was quite upset and called the bank immediately. They apologized and removed the monthly fees, but I was told that I would need to go into a local branch and clear up the misunderstanding as my accounts were no longer set up the way they had been initially and the lady on the phone could not guarantee that my bank wouldn't try charging me again in the future. These accounts were savings accounts for my boys! They hardly had enough funds in them to constitute a monthly fee. I'd rather just keep their savings in a sock in a secret floorboard at my house if I'm going to be charged to have their meager pennies held in a big bank's coffers. Have I mentioned that these are savings accounts...the idea is to save money, right? Not watch your bank spend your money for you. I did not enjoy seeing money taken out of my son's accounts. They work hard for their change. It takes a lot of egg collecting to make a small impact toward their savings goals.

Since 1995 debit card usage has slowly gone up and surpassed credit card usage, which I think is good for the American consumer and good for our overall economic health. Studies show that people spend more when they use a credit card, a little less with a debit card, and they are the most fiscally responsible when they pay in cash. (You can learn these fun facts and life-changing ways if you take a Dave Ramsey Financial Peace class.)

The article I read in the newspaper this mornings predicted that credit card usage would again gain popularity if banks began charging for debit card use.

I know that we will switch banks and return to the golden-olden days of checks and real, cash, money.

If you bank at Bank of America, I'd encourage you to leave! Send them a message. And if you don't, let your current bank know you'll be going somewhere else if they try and copy this latest move in bad business.

Andy, I'll Miss You

2011-10-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Andy Rooney is a comfort food for me. He represents family, open-face-grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, cozy time on the couch with a blanket...he was that space right before the whirlwind of the week began again. He was our last moments of Sunday Sabbath.

At 92, he is going to retire. I guess we should let him. How cool is that? My grandma, a contemporary of 97, is also still alive, but in no way capable of being on 60 Minutes. I want to be able to be 90-something and still be "at it." Whatever "it" is.

I grew up watching the Muppets, 60 Minutes, and Mash with my family. 60 Minutes really gave me my first look into the world and built a foundation for my worldview, and Mr. Rooney was a part of that.

I guess I'm a bit sentimental about his last show. Will you be watching?

Butter Woes-Friday Photo

2011-09-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

I do enjoy butter, but I have never enjoyed my butter dish. Why do butter dishes get so nasty?

Any tips?

Our Creative Gift-God-Sighting 5,763

2011-09-20T08:16:00.000-07:00

My son C is a God-sighting. Only God would be able to create such a unique, passionate, emotive, clever, empathetic, observing, and funny little five-year-old boy who is the perfect fit for his family. Yep, God-sighting 5,763.

He was supposed to be born on my b.d., but beat me by two days. He's my favorite birth because he came all on his own, labor started in the early morning hours, and when I got to the hospital he made his grand entrance like four hours later in one very easy push.

Of course, he came out crying and only stopped when he was in my arms. He taught me that babies do come out with personalities and no amount of "Baby-wise" is going to alter that. I didn't sleep for a full year without interruption from his hungry lips and need to snuggle.

When he was two we thought he was stubborn, but soon learned he was extremely sensitive and passionate. Once he was able to communicate, the stubborn disappeared.

He wows me everyday with his ideas and thoughts.

1. "When we go to heaven, I'm going to get new skin and it is going to be brown."
2. "My mind controls me. I have these thoughts and then I do them."
3. "I'm like an exploding volcano. I just can't stop the anger from coming out."
4. "Lucy was prettier than a pink dress with feathers."
5. "Mom, I wish we could get married."
6. When we couldn't find our youngest for a moment one day, "No, I liked the number three, I just liked it!"
7. "Which way is east? Which way is south? Oh,, I'm south."

I could keep going. I love that he loves his friends, that he loves being with people and is social. I love that he draws people to him and that when he smiles, the world smiles around him.

Happy Birthday Number 2 boy!

Why I Haven't Been Writing.....

2011-09-16T09:00:00.000-07:00

Because Who Runs Around Covallis Taking Pictures of Their Pants!

2011-09-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

You all must really read my friend Dala's blog. She ran all around Corvallis taking pictures of her jeans in various locations. That alone is a good reason to follow her blog. But there are a few more: she's an amazing graphic design artist, she has two little boys that are only a few months apart, she moved here from South Africa last winter, and she has a killer accent which for some reason I can hear in her writing style.

Where Were You? Where Are You Now? (9/11)

2011-09-09T10:45:00.001-07:00

My latest issue of Time came. It was a tribute, a reflection to 9/11. I have to admit I had trouble reading it. I wanted to. I did. I looked at each of the faces in each of the large, black and white photos. I remembered many of those faces, those stories from 9/11. But the larger essays, I just couldn't. I think I've tried to pretend that this attack that took place across the country from me 10-years-ago was something that didn't really affect me. But it really did. Yes, no one I knew and loved died in the either of the Towers or in that field in Pennsylvania nor where they near the Pentagon, but it was my country and reading through Time made me realize how much I really didn't like seeing and knowing this happened to my people. Or to any people. Although I seem to be able to stomach atrocities that happen in other countries easier.

I'm pretty open with my boys about tragedy. We read the morning newspaper together and talk about the pictures and the articles, but I found myself hiding this issue of Time from them. I just didn't want them to feel scared or vulnerable.

My cousin Paula visited us this summer. I hadn't seen her since my wedding in 1999. Since then a lot has happened, and one of those happenings was her experience of being a survivor of 9/11. She was in the basement when the first plane hit. She heard the sound. She saw the second plane hit. She was there. All those clips I saw on the news, she was experiencing first hand. Her apartment was so close to the Towers that she and her husband could not go home. Paula recounted her story for me this summer as we sat in my kids' playroom, ironic location. We sat, her on the couch, me on the chair. I listened. I knew this was her experience, but I had never heard it from her mouth. And actually she is the first person that I've known, met, or talked to in person who was there...the first person in 10 years.

Maybe that is why I'm more sensitive? It opened it all back up again? Or is it just knowing that it has been 10 years. It should not have been that long, right? And at the same time, since it has been that long, why is it a topic I avoid?

I feel like I would be offended if a movie was ever made of the attack. I don't think I would go see it. Is that how Holocaust survivors feel about WWII movies? Is that how the veterans of Pearl Harbor felt when Hollywood made that catastrophe into a romance flick?

Memorials don't create this aversion in me. When my family went to D.C. (1989)and stood silently before the Vietnam Memorial, I know my father was not offended. I saw with my eyes how it moved him.

When I went to Dachau it seemed reflective, respectful, and honoring. Not an easy experience, but one that I'm grateful I have had.

Someday I will take my sons to Ground Zero. I will proudly tell of the heroes and of the brotherhood that was exhibited through this national tragedy.

But for now, I'm just not ready.

9/11 is on a Sunday this year, and I would be very offended if I were to go to church this Sunday and nothing was said, no mention was given, no prayers spoken. I do expect something.

So, where were you? I was 23-years-old, shy of 24 by one week. I was starting my third year of teaching at a middle school. I was driving to work, listening to Z100 when the very obnoxious DJ said something horrifying. I thought it was a crude joke, but the more he talked the more I realized this was for real. I sat in my car in the school parking lot, stunned. I looked around me and all the teachers were just sitting, listening to their radios. We made eye contact and got out of our vehicles, lunch bags in hand. We checked to make sure we were all hearing the same thing.

We walked numbly to our classrooms and each of us turned on the televisions that our school had installed for Ch. 1 News. There it was. The visual of what was happening, playing out before us in real time. I remember the horror as the news reporter shouted that the second tower had been hit. We had students on buses coming to school, unaware. They would be in our rooms in less than a 1/2 hour. What were we supposed to do? Send them home? Watch the news all day? Teach? Our principal called an emergency staff meeting and made the decision that we would address the topic, that during 1st period students could watch the news if teachers chose, but that we would press on and teach as if this was any normal day.

I can't believe that is what we did. I still remember a student named Alex very frustrated that I would not let his class watch the news, but instead made the students review their literary elements. I think this was a coping mechanism. Sometimes I think it was wrong that we acted like everything was normal, but then I try and imagine what a day with 7th graders would have been like watching the news for seven periods straight. That seems like that would have been wrong too.

I remember thinking I couldn't wait to get home and get to my husband, process it all.

After so many days of this, it was all too much, and we all chose to stop watching the replay events. We pushed the normal button and trudged on. Of course, 9/11 never ceased to be the underlining theme of that year (and decade to follow), all the events in the world could be traced back to that moment. Even though we pushed the normal button, normal had changed. Our worldview had been altered.

Where am I now? Then I was 23, no kids, living in community with other young adults, going and doing whatever I wanted, when I wanted, and working full-time.

Now, I no longer live in the metro-area. I have returned to the farm I grew up on. I have three young boys. I am the CEO of my home. I've written a book. I have deep, meaningful relationships, I love my church community of others who are seeking God's truth in their lives, and I have a list of goals and dreams for my life that I see the foundations of being built. Also, I see a world that is hugely connected to one another, a world where if one thing happens in one country it always affects another and another and another. Decision and action should always be considered in length.

So, where were you and where are you now?

The Smell of Onions

2011-09-08T09:07:00.000-07:00

I was finding myself gagging each time I had to walk by the onion patch, and so I decided to harvest them. And I timed it well with all this hot weather we are having.

There are currently 87 onions sunning themselves in this excellent Indian Summer weather we are having. (Is it Indian Summer yet?)

We go through so many onions in the winter, my mom and I share. I think I need to double the planting next spring.

Anyone have any onion tips?

I'm Just Not Done With Summer

2011-09-06T07:30:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know, countless moms across the blogging world are posting shots of their little ones going off to school, but not me! I'm just not done with summer. Our summer was so late in coming. We went camping in the middle of July and got rained on, for example. And now the boys are back to school and we are supposed to have a week of 90 degree heat! I just didn't get in enough river swims. So, the picture of B's first day of school will be coming.

But, for now, I am posting pictures that show I'm in school denial:

Multi-task Warnings

2011-09-02T11:38:00.000-07:00

Sometimes trying to do too much all at once only creates more work. Here are my morning happenings:

-Snuggled with C this morning, A tried to make coffee....on the kitchen floor

-Made a double batch of zucchini bread and talked to my sister on the phone at the same time: this means my kids watched too much PBS Kids

-Moved sprinklers around my yard: my youngest took this time to decorate the backdoor with my lipstick

-Cut and tied ribbon to my grape arbor, pretty sure the birds were mocking me: youngest poured coffee and milk into the waiting zucchini bread batter, 3 loaves were baked...the 4th had to be thrown out. Although I did consider baking it and seeing if I had created a new type of coffee flavored zucchini bread

-Writing this blog entry means my boys are upstairs jumping on their beds and making even more of a mess in a room that is a Lego war zone

Giving, Sharing, Abundance

2011-08-29T12:00:00.000-07:00

I strive to teach my children to give to others out of abundance and out of need. If we model giving when we have more than enough, then enough will never be enough.

I guess I should maybe be more vocal about this with my kids. I think maybe they only see me giving out of abundance, but maybe not. Currently, I have an abundance of garden food, and I am enjoying sharing it with others.

This morning I read an incredible story about the Fresno school chief giving up 800,000 in pay. The line that struck me the most was, "How much do we need to keep accumulating? There's no reason for me to keep stockpiling money."

I posed the question on the Just Moms' FB page, "How are you modeling giving and sharing to your kids?"

Eggs Without A Rooster?

2011-08-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

I often get asked how we get eggs from our chickens without a rooster. Once a friend told me that she went to a comedy club and one of the comedian's routines was all based around the awe that eggs come and there is no rooster. The place was laughing, but probably wouldn't have if there had been any chicken knowledge in the room.

It is simple ladies. Let me state it like this: don't you get your monthly egg with or without your rooster? And what happens when your rooster gets involved....that is right, a possible little chick. But, the egg comes faithfully with or without your man.

Well, that is how it works with your hens, only their egg comes faithfully everyday. And I personally would rather have the eggs without the roosters and the possible fertilization.

So, whenever we get a new batch of chicks and a rooster emerges, whack! Dinner. The last time our youngest kept sounding off, "Cock-a-doodle-doo," the whole dinner. It wasn't quite as tasty knowing that we were all eating an "almost pet."

Our Rhode Island Reds started laying about a month ago, and just like you when you were a young girl, their eggs are small to start with. I thought you'd enjoy the pictures....and hopefully the compare and contrast between the hens and any of you ladies out there.

School Shopping for a 1st Grader

2011-08-19T14:19:00.000-07:00

Last year I was appalled when I read that the average mom spends 600 per child in school shopping. We didn't come close, but we did have a very short school supply list and we get a lot of hand-me-down clothing.

This year I braced myself for a bigger list. It was bigger, but in total I think I spent about 25 dollars on supplies, gotta love those Staples sales.

I also added my middle son to the clothing mix this year, and between the two boys (including supplies) we spent 125 dollars. I think we are well below the average.

But I am noticing something: compared to most of the other kids my sons play with my kids have way less. Less toys, less electronics, less snacks, less outdoor contraptions...less, less, less. I worry a bit that they are going to prefer their friends' houses to their own, and yet I am actually being very intentional in my less-is-more approach to parenting.

I'd love to hear your thoughts over at the Just Mom Facebook page. I posed a question over there regarding school shopping and how to combat all this keeping up with the dream of more, more, more.

The Coach's Wife

2011-08-18T08:15:00.000-07:00

The coach’s wife, you’ve met her before. She’s the one in those feel-good-sports movies that appears exactly three times. Once in the opening scene, she’s up in the bleachers rooting the team on, and you realize she’s the wife after her husband’s team has lost, disappointingly, and the camera goes from her look of sadness to her husband’s slumped shoulders. The second scene she gets to star in is short, and the only time the writers give her any lines. The coach needs a little pick-me-up, and so the coach’s wife is there to let him know how much she believes in him and his team. The last scene she’s in is at the very end of the movie. Once again she is up in the stands, but this time she is jumping up and down and smiling because her husband has brought the under-dog-team to victory, and of course, they’ve won a championship. If she’s lucky the coach, her husband, looks up into the bleachers and smiles.

I’m the coach’s wife. I’ve been a coach’s wife for eleven of the twelve years of our marriage. And I keep wondering why there aren’t any blockbuster films where the wife is the star and the husband is in the sidelines.

I mean, I am a fairly intriguing and occasionally exciting personality. I’m the constant. I’m always there. I’m there in the preseason, the regular season, and the off-season. I hear all the team drama. I know all the squad secrets. I know what the coach really thinks of all his players: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I know what the coach is like after a win, a victory, a defeat, and an utter failure.
I’m that lady with the three little boys who is often not watching any of the games, but is instead trying to entertain the children: snacks, toys, bathroom runs, concession stand visits, and games of tag and wrestling in the grass. I often wonder if any of his players think, “Wow, what an amazing mom. Look at her wrestling with her three boys. I wish my mom was that developmentally appropriate.”

And I have my dramatic moments too. I have those scenes where the coach talks me out of quitting, convinces me that this is all worth it. That these late nights and no-weekends-with-daddy will all pay off. It’ll all be worth it for that one season when they win the championship. I too dream of glory. I hear the soundtrack running through my mind as I live the sport’s dream.

Fall is but weeks away, and so my friends have started to ask, “So, is Hans busy? Has soccer started?”

I want to yell, “When did it ever end! Do you realize there is no off-season anymore? It is a year-round obsession and commitment.”

But I don’t, “Yeah, daily-doubles start next week. Soccer widowhood here I come.”
They smile and nod and that is the end of it.

And then it hits me, the reason that there is no movie titled The Coach’s Wife is because then the wife would appear to be the true hero, and that would ruin all the other great sports films of history past. And we certainly wouldn’t want to have the mirage come crashing down, now would we.

(I read this out loud to my husband, laughing the whole time. His response, “Wow, a little bitter?” I told him it was necessary therapy, and not to worry. I’d be on the sidelines cheering them on, even during the wet games of November.)

Friday Photo: On A Monday

2011-08-15T16:20:00.000-07:00

It is straw time.

Guess What Was Found

2011-08-12T19:12:00.000-07:00

Apparently Hans' aunt has sticky fingers. She came to visit us up at the cabin and saw our camera on the table, thought it was her daughters, and took it home with her. So I wasn't going crazy when I was totally befuddled with my inability to find it.

I was so elated to receive this returned treasure in the mail today. Here are some of the pictures from our vacation, before the camera went missing.

The Missing Link

2011-08-06T09:25:00.000-07:00

I’m trying to convince myself that it will be all right: we are still having fun, still having a good time, still creating memories. But, in the pit of my stomach is the knowledge that something dreadful has happened on our vacation: we have lost our camera. This grand disappointment occurred the second day of our family getaway. I can still visualize the few shots I got on that first day, which only makes me feel worse since I will never see them again.

There was one picture taken on a hike with Daddy leading the way followed by three perfect stair-step boys. Then there is another picture I took on day one where two of the boys are wearing their 4 wheeler helmets, the youngest has the cutest gleam in his left eye as he looks up at his older brother in complete adoration and excitement.

We took the camera with us on a 4 wheeler ride, my regrettable idea. My husband dropped it once, but came back and retrieved it. From that point on neither of us can remember anything else about our camera. We don’t remember having it when we got off the ATV’s, we don’t remember putting it on any of the cabin’s counters, and we don’t remember thinking we didn’t have it either. A mystery. It wasn’t until later that evening when the boys were sitting on the dock down at the lake with their bare toes skimming the top of the water that I thought, “Oh the perfect shot. I must get my camera.” At that moment I realized I had no idea where the camera was located.

With Biblical zeal I looked for my lost coin, I scoured every corner, swept every cupboard, looked in every logical and illogical location at least five times, but unlike the spiritual parable, there has been no rejoicing over the once lost camera now found, instead utter befuddlement.

That first night after I realized my camera was gone all I dreamed about were possible locations my beloved Kodak might be resting, waiting for me to find him. I could hear my beloved memory maker calling for me to rescue him. I was sure he had flown off the back of my husband’s 4 wheeler as we raced over mountain trails. So, I made my husband retrace our adventure, nothing. I kept hoping a lone hiker would knock on our door and hand us our lost friend. Sadly, my fantasy was not becoming a reality.

I try consoling myself that when we pack up the cabin at the end of our retreat, I’ll find that black case and red camera just sitting down in our luggage waiting to be found.

We’ve moved on. I have tried to release my loss. I want to enjoy my vacation, but this disappearance has made me realize something about how I live and vacation: a big part of creating memories for me is capturing them on film. I am the documenter of small and large events in my children’s lives, and it makes me sick to think that this family vacation will have no digital memories, just the ones we c an hope to remember in our minds.

I remind myself that many of my best childhood memories do not involve photos in an album. They are mine and mine alone. I am the sole keeper of these treasures. Surely my sons will capture these family adventures we make this week…forever. I’m taking special attention of photo-worthy-moments and trying to etch them into my mind. I value memory; I’ve always had an exceptionally good one.

However, I’m noticing something: the longer I live, the more memories I have, the more I am forgetting the most recent ones. Those old ones, those early ones, I never seem to forget. And that is why I’m still sad about not getting to preserve this family vacation with my trusty ally, my camera.

Instead of being in charge of my memory and what gets filed away forever, I am leaving it up to chance and my mind to sort out the important memories versus the forgettable.
I truly hope my mind sifts these picture perfect moments to the top of my brain, and that these short years when my boys all love and adore me are never forgotten in this cabin by the lake.

Friday Photo

2011-07-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

I love it when my kids play in unique, imaginative ways. It reminds me of my childhood.

Poop: Not Again

2011-07-26T09:55:00.000-07:00

I stomped into the TV room and glared at my husband, "There's poop all over A's bedroom." He grumbled, got out of his chair, and came to help me. We've been through this before, with our first son. We were lucky enough to skip it with number two. At roughly the same age, 2 1/2, our oldest and youngest decided that they no longer liked the feel of poop or pee in their diapers, but instead of seeking us for help, they tried to solve the problem themselves.

This means that last night when A pooped in his diaper, he attempted to changed and clean himself with wipes that were in his bedroom. He also attempted to get himself in a set of new pajamas. (The top ended up twisted around his chest, the arm holes not utilized.) I'm sure you can picture how this went. I'm very irritated because the house we were in with B had hardwood and our current house has carpet.....white carpet that my mom picked out when she no longer had children. I hate this carpet so much and poop stains don't help my loathing. I have big plans to rip the carpet out and put in something one can actually keep clean. Although carpet keeps your feet warm, it is a dirt trap! I'd rather just invest in some nice slippers.

So, in salute of my latest parenting adventure, I decided to post an old column I wrote about Potty Training. Enjoy.

To potty train or not to potty train, not only the ultimate dilemma, but the ultimate parenting adventure. An adventure to me includes new horizons and exploration, forging the unknown with great expectation, and all of these certainly reflect my mental state during the era of potty preparedness/awareness, as we have not dubbed it.

I remember feeling panic rise up in me as my son became acutely aware of his inner workings. Should I gently guide his developmental milestones, vigorously demand skills, or act like nothing is really happening and proceed with the status quo, diapers.

This was like nothing I had encountered in the first two years of my oldest son’s life. Rolling over, jabbering, sitting up, crawling, walking, and scoring soccer goals in our backyard had just happened! It was beautiful. His little self just figured it out, but somehow I knew this would not be the case with potty awareness. Sure, he was letting me know he got the concept of wet and poopy, he’s remove his diapers himself the second either one of these occurred and stash them random corners of his bedroom.

He’s ready. This was the mantra other, experienced mother’s explained. But, isn’t 2 and then a few a bit young for a boy? Right? I was explaining this baffling juxtaposition to a fellow mommy in the local library. Her eyes got big as she noticed the title to a DVD on the shelf, “Here, have him watch this!” She triumphantly handed me a DVD titled Potty Power.

Awesome, a video! I just plop him down in front of the television, place him on the potty, and in no time he’ll be a big boy with his big boy potty. We raced home; I was getting the adrenaline rush, a true symptom of an exciting adventure. We got ourselves comfortable in front of the T.V. and I pushed play. Surely this informative movie would help my son get to the porcelain throne, mesmerizing him into big boy pants. The results: a toddler running naked through the house shouting, “Potty Power” as he sings the lines, “no more diapers for me, no more diapers for me.” The propensity for diaper freedom was only exasperated by his newest DVD loyalty. Major mommy mistake.

I guess new adventures in life lead to making a few mistakes; they are par for the course. However, I think I like the mistakes I make on fun, exotic vacations. You know the kind, where you sign up for a snorkeling tour that should only take the morning, but the tour you’re on takes the whole day, which turns out to be amazing as you end up swimming with dolphins. Yeah, that is the kind of adventure I find myself yearning for during these days of the toddler doldrums.

But instead I had ventured out in uncharted waters with my oldest being the guinea pig. I now know to skip the Potty Power video with any subsequent children.

This was actually just the first of three attempts to toilet train my son. I really shouldn’t have given into the peer pressure to potty train. The diaper flinging was just a phase and was not a true indicator of potty preparedness. It was more of a two-year-old reaction to new-baby-brother.

During the craziness of the power struggle that soon ensued between mother and son, I kept having to remind myself that this all-encompassing activity, potty training, would soon pass, and my child wouldn’t be a young man (someday) and still in diapers. I had to calm myself down, quit comparing my child to other boys who seemed to respond well to parental potty instruction, and just wait.

That is why I did. I waited. I told myself, Christmas. I would wait until he was a few months shy of his 3rd birthday and try again. So I did. And it worked! It didn’t seem nearly as complicated by round three. I sort of knew what to expect and how to react. What rewards would work and which ones wouldn’t. I wasn’t a novice anymore. After all I had attempted this before. By Christmas it was slightly familiar, like a family cabin one returns to for comfort and retreat.

Before the New Year he was wearing big boy underwear and telling us when he had to go, no longer us telling him. It was a beautiful thing. I was relieved. My son would not go to kindergarten in pull ups. Most of all, I was OK. I survived.

Now I’m not quite as scared about training the next one, however as any mother knows, not one child is like other, so I know all my tricks, bells, and whistled won’t necessarily work with number two, and that is why I still claim that potty training is my least favorite developmental marker. Even when I try and remind myself that being a mom is one huge adventure, and potty training just a bigger bump in the road, I guess I’d really just rather swim with the dolphins to get my thrills.

Win A Copy of Just Moms

2011-07-23T06:44:00.000-07:00

We are giving you the chance to be entered into a drawing for a free copy of Just Moms. Simply follow this link to our Facebook page and post a picture of your kids enjoying the simple pleasures of summer.

Become a fan of our FB page and you'll be updated on book happenings, pictures, discussion questions, and more.

Camping Part 3: The Camp Fire

2011-07-21T08:52:00.000-07:00

I always look particularly great after a few days without a shower or a mirror.

Camping Part 2: Spirits Lifted

2011-07-20T08:33:00.000-07:00

By noon on Saturday the rains had stopped, well, at least subsided. We went to the lake, went on walks, played on bikes, and the adults got some chatting in between chasing children episodes. The trip got much better. Seriously, if it hadn't stopped raining I would have been tempted to pack it up.

Camping Part 1: Deluge

2011-07-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

So, do you love camping? This was the question I asked in Monday's post. For me, it is a love/hate relationship, but when it rained on us this last weekend I was definitely hating it rather than loving it. My spirits were lifted by noon when the rains subsided; this was noted and observed by one of our fellow campers, so I guess I wasn't hiding it too well.

I will call this first pictures post: Deluge

Lucky for us the worst of the rain came at night when we were putting our children to bed. So no adults around the campfire that night. We all just went to bed, and I have to admit that the rain coming down on the tent all night was a bit cozy.

Oh, and you got to love the shot of my hubby: hot, hot, hot!

My husband being proactive just in case night two was as rainy. It wasn't! We actually got a chance to sit around the fire and chat.

Camping: Do You Love It?

2011-07-18T09:01:00.000-07:00

Camping. An exhausting, American tradition. We are about to embark on our first camping trip of the 2011 summer season, and I’m dreading all the lists, packing, organizing, setting up of camp, taking down of camp, loading back up again, unloading it all back onto the floor of our washroom, and then starting to wash and clean it all to put it away for next year’s big trip.

Perhaps most of the burden falls upon the wives, the women of the campouts? I noticed tonight, reading Facebook, that post after post by the “mamas” of the houses read something like this, “Back from camping, exhausted.” Or, “Now the unpacking begins, just got back from camping.”

I find myself tensing in anticipation of my own weekend of exhaustion. I’ve already started making the lists. I have a camping supply list, food list, snack list, clothing list, beach toy list, and list of things I still need to buy for the trip. I should probably make a list of all the lists I need to write.

I already feel dirty and grimy. And am I the only one who gets a little constipated on these types of mini-vacations? It must be a mental block I have with pit toilets.
Then there is the sleep factor: I don’t get a lot. When I was younger, and much more limber, sleeping on the ground was almost comfortable, but not anymore. Also, our two-year-old is a wildman when he realizes we are all in the tent together. He gets so excited by all this family time that he bounds from sleeping bag to sleeping bag.

Last year, on our big group camping weekend, we were woken at midnight to the sounds and smells of vomit coming from our oldest. All night long I tried to vainly catch vomit in my pillow case as my son threw up over and over again. Several times I would hear the retching and dive across the tent only to realize it wasn’t him. Where was that sound coming from? The next tent over? Half of our camp group was violently ill. Is it bad that I was always relieved when the vomiting was happening in another tent?

I don’t think my husband realized all that was involved in a camping expedition. I usually get everything packed and loaded, leaving him with just a few things that require major, muscular lifting. He did get a glimpse last summer when I went away for the weekend and he decided to take the boys on a boys-only-campout. Of course, he started this endeavor at about four in the afternoon and was flabbergasted when he didn’t pull out of our driveway until 6 o’clock at night (finally packed and ready), and then even more flabbergasted when he drove in and out of campgrounds for the next two hours not finding a single site vacant. The tired, cranky boys roasted hot dogs in a day use area and then headed home to the backyard to pitch their tent. I unloaded everything once I returned the next day from my relaxing girl’s beach weekend.

Even though I’m expressing quite a lot of negative energy around this idea of camping, I still like it. I still like the family time. I still like the smell of the tent and the feel of the sleeping bags on my dirty toes. And there is nothing quite like swatting mosquitos around a campfire. Really. I keep telling myself that this is what we do as a family. This is how we make memories. And I am a fan of making memories. I think it is the campfire that keeps me coming back. I love sitting in our chairs next to friends and snuggling with my tired, dirty and stinky boys. I love the conversations, the stories. I love hot drinks in tin mugs. I love the memories we make as a family, the memories that we make between the loading and unloading, packing and unpacking. All that comes between the beginning and the end makes me feel like all my efforts are worth it. At least this is what I tell myself.

God-Sighting 15,434-Cancer Continued

2011-07-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

My oldest raised his arms in victory, "Thank you God! It is like a miracle!" He showed such joy and exuberance. This is a lot from a pretty non-expressive little kid. Today we found out that my MIL's cancer has shrunk so much that the Dr. can't actually measure it. But the other miracle is that my son praised God. You see, my son isn't big on praying. Instead, he likes me to do it for him. He also is timid in praising http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifor thanking God, but he didn't even have to be prompted. He raised his little eyes up, like he was really looking at someone and said thank you. It was genuine and real, and it also made me realize how worried and concerned he's been about his grandma.

This whole process continues to be a huge factor in my son's spiritual development and therefore, a major God-Sighting.

God-Sighting 15,434-Cancer

2011-07-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

From the start we told the boys. Grammy has cancer. This is what is going to happen. She is going to feel weak. She is fighting the cancer with chemo. She will look different when we visit. She won't have any hair.

C made her special paper clips to hold during cancer treatments. These little trinkets really help the chemo work. Cancer has become a common word in our house. The other day the boys were in imaginative play and I heard the one instruct the other, "And now you have cancer."

We had a choice as parents, tell or don't. Of course, they were going to wonder why Grammy didn't have any hair, but we could have put this off. We live 9 hours away from Grammy and Poppy, and so we could have chosen to not make this fear and worry part of our boys' lives, at least not very much.

But then there is this little item of prayer that we believe in, and that we model for our kids. How could I steal them of that? What if God healed? Then they would not be there for the miracle. What about all the little prayers along the way with little God-sightings? I wanted them to experience God in this very real crises.

My oldest isn't a fan of praying. He'd rather have me do it, but when it comes to praying for Grammy: he wants to speak to God about this. He's even taught me a little doctrine along the way. When I told him that we don't always know what God's plan is he responded, "But God always has a plan." Yes, yes he does.

We spent this last week with Grammy, and it was good. Grammy commented on how glad she was that the boys were comfortable around her and didn't think much of the fact that she didn't have her hair anymore. She was glad that we had made cancer a normal thing. I'm glad we have too.

We've already seen God answer so many of our prayers along the way in this journey of fighting cancer. The boys have been with us for all of those moments. God is a very real person to them, through this. And most of all, we are accepting that "bad things do happen to good people," and that if you look and listen you can see how much God does love us through the not-so-convenient in life. This is a paramount thing to learn as a young child.

Friday Photos

2011-07-08T12:22:00.000-07:00

The boys found my camera and took full advantage!

Happy 4th of July

2011-07-04T15:49:00.000-07:00

I'm on holiday! More great stories and thoughts and pictures to come.

Just Moms Review: Finding Her Tribe

2011-06-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

Megan Tietz of SortaCrunchy just posted an amazing review of our book, Just Moms. It is a must read and a must comment on her site!

Just Moms Update: Capturing the Moment

2011-06-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

Wondering how things are going in the book world? Jessica does a great job of capturing what it is like to attend a reading. We are hoping for another reading this summer in Salem and later one in Portland.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

If you haven't "liked" us yet on FB, you really should. This is the best way to keep updated on the happenings surrounding Just Moms.

Iron Mountain: A Mental Challenge and Victory

2011-06-27T08:35:00.000-07:00

He did it! My middle son did it. He fought through his own mental weakness and climbed the whole thing without any help from us, his parents. This is quite impressive, for this is the son who often quits when things get uncomfortable. He's never been a great hiker, something the other four members of his family love. Even the youngest brother shows more hiking aptitude; A has often out walked C on many a family outing.

My husband has been promising the boys that we would climb Iron Mountain, and this last Saturday was perfect for hiking. We got up, quickly dressed in hiking layers, packed food and water, and took off toward the Cascades. We decided to stop off at the ranger station out of Sweet Home and ask about the service road that would cut this hike in half, mainly for our hiking challenged child. I'm glad we did because we were told that that road was still snowed in, in fact the trail still had patches of snow on it. (The total trip is 4.8 miles.)

Hopes were high when we parked at the trail head. C was eager to climb, but I knew this would quickly fade before the first mile was behind us. Iron Mountain is a pretty steep climb and once you are out of the treeline, it is hot sun to the top. My boys hate sun. True Oregonians I guess.

"OK guys, whoever makes it to the top without needing to be carried gets a dollar, and if you make it down you get a quarter."

"I want a dollar! I'm going to be rich!" C announced with a hop, skip, and jump. We were off.

My husband does a good job of making hikes about nature and discovery than pain and fatigue. We stop for each slug and inspect each new flower species. He speaks of fragile ecosystems. He puts moss on his face and become a bearded crazy woodsmen. All these distractions help the boys to keep on. We rested whenever C wanted. We rationed out the peanut and butter sandwiches. There were moments when I thought C was going to give up and disappear into the volcanic soil, but somehow he dug deep, "Am I still getting that dollar?" Yes! Oh yes you are! And on he'd go to the next bend in the trail, the next shady spot.

Maneuvering through the snow patches added to the hike's difficulty and once stopped us completely. Mama and boys rested on a cliff's edge while Hans worked his way around the summit, finding a good path up to the lookout's deck. There was quite a bit of snow covering up any signs of a trail.

But we made it! And it was an adventure. The view was incredible. We could see all Cascade Greats from Mt. Thielsen to Mt. Adams.

Coming down was much easier and spirits rebounded. Every 10 steps C would say, "Didn't I do good Daddy? I am the only four-year-old who has ever climbed Iron Mountain. It was like I was on top of the world and flying. Did I do good Daddy?"

If you are thinking of taking this hike with your children I would wait one or two more weeks so that all the snow is gone and also you'll get to see all the beautiful wild flowers. They will be gorgeous. And if you taking children, find out what motivates them. For my son, a dollar. A small price to pay for a pleasant family outing and a life lesson in perseverance and success. He is so proud of himself.

Vomit Giggles

2011-06-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

My husband and I turned to each other and laughed. What else could we do? I actually got the giggles, which is laughter at a different level. These giggles are the kind that makes you feel like a young child in church, trying desperately to suppress the laughter under the irritated eye of Mama.

Why was my laughter so taboo? Our middle son had just barfed all over himself and the backseat, narrowly missing his older brother who shifted in his seat at just the right moment. Safe. A bit did get on the corner of his sandal. Nasty.

We knew it was coming. We were driving over the Coast Range, heading to Tillamook. I would venture to say that even the locals find the route we were on, curvy. C had been gagging and coughing for the last mile or so. We’d passed back the customary bag with instructions to puke into it, please. He often complains of motion sickness, and nothing comes of it.

B was curious. He was fixated on his green brother. I wonder if he thought it would never happen; we were all beginning to think this was becoming the standard for riding in cars with C: complaints with no real outcomes. B kept leaning into the bag, checking it for contents. Still empty. A, our youngest, was just jabbering away, oblivious to the impending doom.

I guess we, the adults, were hoping the road would straighten out soon, and C’s complains would be a distant inconvenience. And then it happened. All of McDonald’s was covering his chest, shorts, legs, car seat, and floor.

I think the part that made me laugh was how instant his joy was after he emptied his stomach, “Oh, I feel much better. I am all better now!” Then he looked down at his mess and started to cry, “It is on my Easter shirt.” I tried to reassure him that it would wash out and that I could save the Easter shirt, this in between giggles of helplessness. Bren was definitely no longer interested in seeing his brother explode and was now struggling against his own reflexes due to the scent of fresh vomit. A, however, was very interested and leaned way over to see what had just happened and caused such stir.

“Well, are you going to pull over?” I asked my husband as we continued to S-curve through the mountains, “I do need to clean him up, you know.”

We kept looking for a good place to pull over and finally chose a slight straight-stretch. Lovely. I had a limited number of baby wipes to do the job with and one newspaper to wrap C’s stinky clothes in. The puke bag was clean and empty, a bright side in our latest adventure. Unfortunately for my husband I wrapped C’s nastiness in the newspaper’s crossword puzzle.

The cars whizzed by. The Oregon drizzle was now coming down. Perhaps the mist might aid my struggle to clean and disinfect.

B and A were now out of the van and playing on the hillside. C was nearly wiped clean and into his pajamas when B, the oldest, started to cry---he was quite upset. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I peed on myself.”

“What!”

“I peed on myself.” In B’s goofiness and joy at being free from the car and our arduous journey he’d lost his focus while doing his business.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Now I had another boy to clean and put in his pajamas. By now all feelings of car sickness had subsided in C and he was back to his joyful self, “I love vacation! When are we going to be there! I can’t wait! I’m never eating McDonalds again. That made me so sick. That is sick food.”

We loaded up, got everyone strapped back in, and handed C our last plastic sack with the expectation that if he felt like throwing up again he really did need to get it in there and not on everything else.

We pulled around the corner and there was the town of Hebo: a much better spot for changing children and stretching legs. I bet there was even a place for a boy to properly use the facilities. Of course we’d be that close to civilization. I laughed again. More giggles.

Handsome Men

2011-06-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

They've been wanting "handsome" clothes and then like manna from heaven they discovered their cousin's hand-me-down clothes!

Things To Say

2011-06-15T08:24:00.000-07:00

Time to Vote! What would you like to read about:

1. Time Magazine, my last great read.
2. Book Review: Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
3. Book Review: Forgotten Garden
4. Great Kid Books for New Readers
5. Vomit in the Car
6. Riding in Cars with Boys, Mine That Is
7. Summer Hopes

From Another Perspective

2011-06-14T08:22:00.000-07:00

Sometimes other people just write excellent posts, so why not highlight them. I was going to give you all an update on Just Moms, but instead thought I'd link to a post from one of the contributing authors. (Jessica Kantola)

Also, we are going to be at Frogs and Pollywogs in Albany, Oregon on the 25th of June at 5 PM.

Show 'n Tell

2011-06-09T08:20:00.001-07:00

A high priority is placed on my kinder finding that perfect show 'n tell item. He rarely misses a day. One morning he hauled down, from his bedroom, his large castle complete with kings and knights. Yesterday he took a pile of rubbery spiders. Each morning it is something new and different.

This morning he was very excited to be taking a photo of his great grandfather hunting wild boar in Hawaii. Love this. My oldest does have a few faint memories of his Great Grandpa Richey. I have a few faint memories of my Great Grandma Richey.

My grandfather is the first person in my life that has died that I truly miss. He was so coherent and relational all the way to the end. Other grandparents have died, other elderly who I was close to have deceased. But in the end they were so out of it because of drugs/morphine or had been suffering the effects of a stroke for way too many years, that I remember a feeling of relief when they finally passed.

And although my grandfather was ready to go, his physical body was done. For most of his 97 years, his life had been good. And he related to all of us right up until the moment he closed his eyes and left. So I think that is it, all my memories of him are so good that I miss him more. I remember him as he was, alive and living life well.

So I am happy that my son took this picture of The Great White Hunter to school. I'm glad this man that took part in molding and shaping me has had a little influence over my oldest, and that my son knows that this man represents a life once lived.

Field Trip Cool: A Poem?

2011-06-03T08:51:00.000-07:00

Field Trips

Excitement, as you load the bus
Who do you get to sit with?
Did you get with the fun mom or dad?
The cool kids have:

Sour Patch Kids
Pringles
Walkmans

It is raining, Oregon...end of the year trip...expected, but
Disappointing regardless.

However, the bus ride was fabulous.
Totally noisy and stinky.
Everyone was so fun, so fun to be with your class out of the classroom walls...

Its all good.

Not OK

2011-05-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I went to the beach with my college girlfriends. We stayed in a beach cottage of sorts. And, the bathroom provided complimentary loofas, obviously used before. This is just not right.

I Am Pleased

2011-05-27T12:52:00.000-07:00

My son's first year of school has been nothing but positive! I am so pleased with our public schooling choice and experience. He went from knowing his letters and sounds to reading at roughly a 2nd grade reading level. He has a bettehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifr handle on phonics than I do! When I ask him math questions I see his brain making problem-solving decisions. There is meaning behind the numbers and calculations; I love that. The variety of art and science and social studies that he's been exposed is really phenomenal. I guess that is what you get when you get an expert teacher...something districts should work hard and retaining.

I've been going into his room every Wednesday afternoon since September. Let me give you a glimpse into a typical afternoon:

The kids move fluidly from station to station, choosing what order they accomplish the tasks in. There is no arguing or confusion. Each child makes it to each learning station, but they feel the power to chose the order. Love this. The class is so accepting and encouraging to others. The teacher has created a positive, learning environment, teaching class behaviors and establishing clear, consistent boundaries.

At the yellow table kids were working at writing in their writing journals. I still think its impressive that this teacher gets kinders to write. Writing is not an easy skill. I love reading their entries and seeing them sound out words and put thoughts on paper.

At the blue table, my table, we were comparing and contrasting pill bugs and sow bugs, Isopods. This was a great activity to teach kids to notice details and sort and identify characteristics, and of course, expand their vocabulary.

At the round table kids were reading to their teacher and she was checking the books that are in their book bags, checking for appropriate reading levels and progress etc.

Another group of children were reading on the floor of the classroom to each other and to themselves.

The last station was "Buying the Farm." This is a very fun project that my child is very excited about. It involves math and money. I wonder if it is a version of Farmville? On Wednesday they were buying their green grass acreage and their farm houses. Then they had accounting sheets that they were gluing paper money on to representing the cost of the items they purchased...so concrete and developmentally appropriate. On the board were lists of all the things you need to run a farm, so I know they will be adding more to their farms as they go. Kids were spread through the room gluing their farm pieces on to their large, white papers.

All that was going on in an hour and half. That's a lot of creative learning and thinking for a room full of 27 six-year-olds, right?

This is just one of many terrific afternoons my son has spent in school this year. His days have been filled with literature, song, P.E., recess, lunch, library, computer class, assemblies...what a day of rich learning that is so age appropriate!

We are ready for summer, for a change of pace. But his first year has been a foundation for success for future school years to come. I look forward to 1st grade.

They Do Like the Beach

2011-05-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

I was wondering if we weren't really a beach family, but guess what...we are! The trouble in the past was that we always ended up at the beach when it was freezing and terribly windy so that we thought we were going to loose someone out to sea.

Still, the boys couldn't seem to pose without props in hand. But at least for this one we are all looking in the general direction of the camera. Remember the other shot of our family at the beach?

Miss Rumphius

2011-05-23T10:38:00.001-07:00

I haven't done a book recommendation in a while, but I had to comment on my latest find Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney. Reading this book made me tear up with hope for mankind and for lives well lived. I love the Lupine Lady, the main character in this book. She starts out as a young girl named Alice with hopes and dreams and guess what....Alice achieves her dreams. She travels the world and sees exciting places. She is a progressive woman in her time, choosing to remain single and live a full life. As an older lady she decides to make the world more beautiful by planting Lupine seeds. The story is told through the eyes of her niece. I love it and don't want to return it to the library.

2011-05-19T12:39:00.000-07:00

Good discussion going on over at Just Moms,the Facebook page. Love to hear your thoughts.

How much control do you take over your children's appearance and what they choose to wear? Melanie worded this question a bit differently and then added her own current experience dealing with this topic.

Vanity and Insecurity

2011-05-17T08:13:00.000-07:00

Vanity and insecurity: my motivations. A factor: my age. Seeing my picture in the paper: my devastation. There was no way my hair was that brown. I was a blonde. I am a blonde. It is funny how hair color really does define a person. I’m no different than any other woman. For me, blonde wasn’t dumb. Blond was beauty. I had been that blonde haired girl since my youth, and even though my lovely locks had slowly faded over time, my image of myself hadn’t. Then I opened the paper and saw my larger-than-life image of very brown hair. Shattered.

I rationalized that it was the lighting that caused this debacle. At Zumba a gal came over to congratulate me on the article she had read in the local newspaper, Brownsville Times, about my book release of Just Moms, and then remarked, “I almost didn’t think it was you. Your hair looked so brown in that picture.” And then instead of the conversations being about Just Moms, it became about my hair. Should I highlight it? Did she think of me as a blonde? Really? So, you don’t think of me as having brown hair? But that picture? It was so dark in that picture.

Even though many reassured me that my hair was still in the spectrum of being blonde, my confidence had been shaken. The last time I had tried to highlight my hair was six years ago when I convinced my husband to pull my hairs through that home-coloring-cap. He pulled way too many through and then, to make sure it really took hold, I kept the deadly chemicals on twice as long as I should have. I was still pretty scared from that horror show, and so had decided I would be all-natural from there on out.

But that newspaper picture? It was so bad. So blatantly not blonde. I took the plunge. Made an appointment. Refused to ask how much it would cost, so that I wouldn’t back out, and drove myself to the hands of a professional---eager for the hair of my youth.

“So basically, I want to walk out of here and know that you did something to my hair, but I also don’t want to walk out looking like a floozy.” My stylist knew exactly what I wanted. She delivered.

After my hair was all dried, cut, and styled I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. It was me staring back at me in the mirror, not that stranger from the paper. There was Rebekah, the Rebekah I had always known and loved. No one could mistake that for brown. I smiled, “Perfect. It looks like I just experienced the full month of August!”

I walked with confidence back to the mom-mini-van and caught my sexy reflection in a storefront window! Oh yeah! Check me out!

This new dependence and appreciation of something not natural is a big step for me. I’m the girl, who at 33, still does not have her ears pierced. Never had a cavity. Still have my tonsils and appendix. Only think make-up looks good if you can’t actually tell I have it on. I gave up on tans years ago, and instead cheer on my summer glow of freckles. Still, I’m pretty sure I’ll never go back to drab winter hair ever again. I found myself, in a bottle, and it’s all good.

Farmer Boy: Friday Photo

2011-05-13T13:04:00.000-07:00

Our youngest exudes joy whenever he gets to be near living creatures.

When On the Radio...Learn to Laugh

2011-05-10T07:05:00.000-07:00

I had my radio blog interview yesterday. I don't think you can tell from my voice how excited and nervous I was. I had my husband practice asking me questions the night before, and it was terrible. My responses really were lacking something, like knowing I was actually on the air? Anyway, once noon hit yesterday I wasn't much good. I was told to call five minuets before 3, and so from noon until three I tried to make myself useful. I worked on the school newsletter, folded laundry, empty the dishwasher, and actually did rest a bit on the couch and mindlessly flip through the newspaper.

I decided to go over to my mom's house to do the interview. Can you imagine trying to conduct a phone interview with three children lurking somewhere near? You must know how that might have sounded in the background. Not sure how your children deal with you on the phone, but it always seems like my boys can sense when I'm on a very important phone call.

I went over for some peace and solitude and to pull myself together. I dialed the number. I was committed.

It went fine. Actually, it went better than fine. After the interview was over, I listened to it again and was quite pleased. For my first live interview ever I think it was smashing! (Don't tell me otherwise, or I'll be crushed.) I do hope I was an encouragement to moms and that I did a good job describing the joy that Just Moms has been for both me and all the contributing writers.

The only real evidence that I was nervous was in my shirt. It was quite stinky from all that sweaty angst, and so I rewarded myself with a change of wardrobe at 4 o'clock.

Also, a little bit of advise for anyone getting a radio interview in the near future: work on your radio laugh. Mine is not so good in this venue. I breathe too much on the first note of my chuckle; it doesn't translate well. I noticed that Maxine and her co-hots had lovely radio laughs that lilted and carried well over the airwaves. Must work on that.

(This picture is of Melanie and me at the Brownsville Reading)

Calling All Listeners

2011-05-05T12:03:00.000-07:00

OK readers, faithful and true. I could use some listeners now too. I'm going to have a radio interview on Monday the 9th at 3. Please follow this link for listening information.

Success!

2011-05-04T11:20:00.000-07:00

I would say our first book signing and reading extravaganza was a success! Did we really have 11 of our contributing writer's there? I think we did! Four of our writer's read: Nancy Thomas, Lisa Graham McMinn, Marta Sears, and Paula Hampton. We are hosting our second event this Friday at the Brownsville, Oregon library. It starts at 11, and the bonus is that we have a fabulous teacher coming in to do a Mother's Day craft and story time with the kids: free childcare! Bonus: you walk away with a Mother's Day present.

Feel welcome to come if you are not a mother. There were many men at our Chapter's reading last night.

So, how can you support us? Become a fan on FB, write a review on Amazon, or attend an event.

You can follow this link to find us on FB and see pictures of our Chapter's Reading event. It is always fun to put faces with names.

On our FB page you can be part of the discussion, responding to posted questions, and you can also leave encouraging comments for our writers. We've also posted links to various newspapers who have covered our book release.

Sharing the Limelight!

2011-05-03T08:31:00.000-07:00

I love seeing our contributing writers get some news and writer love. Here is a great article featuring Emily Chadwick who wrote "Digging for Answers" in Just Moms.

Upstaged by Osama

2011-05-02T12:38:00.000-07:00

I was shocked to see a huge picture of Osama bin Laden on the cover of my morning newspaper, and then I was even more surprised to see an article on the second page about Just Moms. My husband wondered if I was bummed to be overshadowed by the death of this man we've been hunting as a country for over a decade. "No way, now people might actually keep commemorative copies of this paper and in doing so, commemorate Just Moms on page 3."

We were also featured in the Newberg Graphic.

A Faithful Friend

2011-04-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Oscar. You are such a good dog. Grandpa will return!

Anytime my father goes down the road in his pick-up truck, Oscar sits in the field, facing to either the east or the west waiting for his return.

Mother's Day Gift

2011-04-24T21:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a blatant plug for my book: it is currently on Amazon for 13.60, and there are seven copies left at that price. I think if you order it now, you could get it in time for a Mother's Day present.

http://www.amazon.com/Just-Moms-Melanie-Springer-Mock/dp/1594980225/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1303703984&sr=8-1

Easter Guilt

2011-04-21T14:52:00.000-07:00

My kindergartner noticed the lack of holiday hype revolving around Easter, “How come there aren’t any Easter decorations at school?” We had a good discussion about Easter and what it celebrates, one of my better parenting moments. Then he pointed out that we didn’t have any decorations up at our house either.

Ooops. We do have our wooden cross, fashioned from our Christmas tree, but it has been up since January: I think it blends in with the wall by now. I do have some old-fashioned Easter postcards I’ve been meaning to put up, but just haven’t gotten to it.

We don’t even buy the boys news spiffy outfits for Sunday morning, even though going to church on Sunday is really how we choose to celebrate this holiday. You’d think I’d embrace this concrete example of “new life.” But I find myself thinking, “One more thing we’d have to budget for and plan for and buy for.” No grandparents have stepped up to buy cute Easter outfits (not that I expect this either). I think this has never happened because I have all boys. My mom even admitted that she just didn’t think about it being important to them because they aren’t girls, that buying girls a pretty new Easter dress is way more enticing for the checkbook than slacks and a polo shirt. Growing up, my grandmothers would often sew my sister and me new digs, always made from matching patterns in complementary pastels. I do try and iron a button-up-shirt for the boys on Easter morning, attempting to find one with some springy, bright colors involved.

I feel a twinge of guilt when the ads come in the paper marketing all sorts of Easter basket pleasures that could make waking on Easter morn a bit more significant for my children. But I always resist, not really out of any moral conviction, but out of exhaustion. I find myself done with holiday hoopla around this time of year. Plus, if I start, then the expectation will be there, and I’ll be doing Easter baskets for the next 20-plus-years. I even console myself thinking, “Yeah, I’ll do that as a grandma. I’ll be the Easter-basket-grandma, putting them together with love and hand delivering them on the night before Easter.” I kind of think I will. Right?

With Christmas we have all sorts of celebratory events leading up to the 25th. We do an advent calendar, bake cookies, play Christmas music, shop for presents, go to various parties---it is non-stop Christmas fever. Valentines: we pick our cards out, sit around the kitchen table, and write a note to each classmate. Halloween: we discuss our coming costume choices (starting in about March), we go to the costume aisle, pick them out, wear them for a week or so before Halloween, and then continue to live in them even after October 31st has past. But Easter? I fail in creating anticipation.

The one thing I have put some effort into, the cross made from our Christmas tree, has faded into the clutter of our lives. But wait. Someone still knew it was there.

I was hosting a preschool event at our house. My boys were hyper! Kids were coming. Mommies were here. My oldest was showing off. So, with great exuberance he laid his body across our homemade cross and announced with arms outstretched, “I’m being crucified!” And then he ran around the house screaming at the top of his lungs. I could almost see imaginary blood spouting all over our house, like a bad B-rated movie. The visiting mother’s eyes: wide with shock. Community resolution: stay away from those Schneiter boys.

I found myself apologizing for my son’s brutality. It was embarrassing. I quickly suggested other types of play, “Hey, son, why don’t you show your friends your climbing ladder in your room.” Off they ran. Not one of my better mothering moments.

I guess my oldest hadn’t forgotten about the coming Easter holiday; however I wasn’t totally comfortable with the way he was commemorating it either. Maybe I should just focus on the miraculous bunny that delivers eggs instead. Maybe I should buy Easter baskets full of plastic trinkets and make sure my boys get new handsome shirts for Sunday morning. Maybe instead of a cross I should invest in some bunny decals for the window. Or maybe in the true spirit of Easter, I’m going to release the guilt and forgive myself for not always being the ultimate mother.

(I had major writer's block and just sent this in to The Graphic, but they said I was too slow and couldn't get it in before Easter. Boohoo. So, enjoy.)

Quite Happy: Screen Confessions

2011-04-20T08:26:00.000-07:00

OK, we did well yesterday. It helped that I had just posted and that the sun came out and that daddy got home before dinner.

My youngest watched 45 mins. in the morning and 20 at night.
My middle watched 20 in the morning and 45 mins. at night.
My oldest watched 45 mins. at night.

I would say that is pretty excellent.

Screen Time Confessions

2011-04-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

I'm reading Boys Adrift with my preschool co-op, and last nights discussion was on video games and screen time. I admitted that my middle son watches, on average, an hour in the afternoon when his younger brother is napping, older is at school, and his mommy needs a break. There was one gasp and one person said, "Oh that is not good." Thanks guys! Wow, talk about guilt. I was actually a little annoyed because I figure that whenever someone says they only let their kids watch a certain amount of TV, you can just add another 30 to 45 mins. to that and you'll almost get accurate picture. (Like sex...husbands always think it is less times during the week and wives always think it has occurred more.) "Good moms" do not want to do the unthinkable, which is expose their children's brains to too much multimedia.

As our discussion progressed, moms came "out of the closet" and admitted:

1. One day I let my son watch 6 hours.
2. Well, when it is raining we watch a lot of TV.
3. Yeah, it is always more than I say.

The things is, I'm always battling it with my boys...and my husband. And I realize the dangers, and I do enforce limits. I'm always trying to find ways to cut back, so maybe the first step in cutting back is being honest.

So, I'm going to actually keep track, and I'm actually going to post, and I'm actually going to let you all know what is actually going on with screen time this week. AND! You cannot judge me or make me feel bad or try and make yourself feel better with this information. Maybe we can all just do a little bit better during this week. It'll be our Lent! Fitting, right?

(Note: my youngest is watching Veggie Tales while I type this.)

Just Mom Events

2011-04-15T08:23:00.000-07:00

1. Release party at Chapter's Books in Newberg at 7 on May 3rd
2. Local reading at the Brownsville Library on may 6th at 11, children's craft activity provided so moms can discuss
3. Radio Interview on May 9th at 3, Pacific Time
4. Book Bin Reading on may 13th at 7 in Corvallis

Help? I Really Want It

2011-04-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

Here's the issue: my son is reading, writing, bright, getting it, doing great in school, one of the kids at the top of the class...blah, blah, blah. BUT! When it comes time for him to read to us at night he shuts down. He also avoids reading during free time at school.

He's one of only two boys that go to a 1st grade level reading group during the day, so we know he can read. And he likes this, going to his 1st grade reading group. But even his teacher noticed that when it comes to reading out of fun fiction books, he's less than enthused. Each student in the class has a book bag with books at their reading level, and while the other children sit down eagerly during free time to read their practice books, my son avoids this at all cost.

What should I do? Do I require him to read to us at night, make it a chore? Or, do I let it go. After all, he's only in kindergarten? But then I wonder about this summer. I want him to read throughout the summer and make reading gains, not the opposite. I've thought that maybe this summer we could have him read to his grandma to make it a bit more fun. Like at a certain time each day, he walks to her house and reads for 15 mins. And I admit that I have issues with my own level of patience listening to young readers. I figure with my mom's background in elementary teaching, she has a better reserve of patience than I do for the less-than-expressive-reader.

And next year, he has to read every night after school, I think. I hear other parents complain about the power struggles over homework, and I really want to avoid that trap.

So, what has worked for you? Anyone with early childhood background? Any tips?

Amongst the Crazy

2011-04-06T08:52:00.000-07:00

My plate feels very full: weekly newsletter for my son's school, working in my sons' classrooms each week, meetings with various interviewers regarding the book, planning for readings, getting all the pieces put together for my church's retreat, planning a talk at our retreat, writing, blogging, cleaning my house, picking my kids up, arranging play dates, making meals, grocery shopping, visiting my grandma, calling friends, meeting with friends, relating to my children, zumba, getting some quality time in with my husband, a class at our church.....there is always a list m and although I'm marking off to-do's, at this point it feels like once I take off one thing, I just add another.

It is just that season. It is all good, and I'm enjoying it for now, but I also look forward to a few less things to do every week.

How about you? How is your spring going?

Shale, I Love You

2011-04-05T09:15:00.000-07:00

I am very much effected by the raising gas prices. We are thinking twice about going places. I have stopped my weekly runs to Albany to the public library for a fun outing I'm reconsidering my weekly grocery trip....when we first moved to the country in 2008 I shopped once-a-month, but I slowly stopped doing that as time wore on, maybe due to manageable gas prices.

I try and combine my trips as much as possible. So, on Friday I made the whole family go with me to Winco, then we headed to Albany to Khol's and Target, and finally ended up at First Burger to meet up with the cousins and pick my oldest up from a weekend away.

So far I'm set for this current week and will not need to make any trips into town, town being Albany or Corvallis. However, I do have two meetings this week that will demand that I travel twice for 30 mins. each, and I find my stomach knotting a little bit due to the gas money I will need to hand over for those excursions.

I noticed at the pump the other day that everyone was paying in cash and that no one was filling up their tanks.

When we planned out our monthly budget for April, we definitely had less money to work with. Where did the money come from to cover our gas: food, entertainments, clothing, and gifts.

I was very eager to read the cover story on Time this week: Shale! And I found this closet environmentalist (that is me) saying, "Drill, baby drill!" I was also feeling very supportive of all efforts to come up with vehicles powered by electricity and other green energy sources.

I think the part I resonated the most was, in reading the cover story, that we have about 100 years worth of shale sitting under our soil that would make us no longer dependent of Middle Eastern oil...I'm starting to think this is a good place to no longer be dependent on, and that gives us a good amount of time to pursue good, solid, viable, green energy sources. We can do it! I want my next car to be a car powered by electricity. I dream of a day when I will tell my grandchildren, "Yes, we used to go to gas station to power our cars."

But, we need time to develop these resources well, and shale gives us this.

The sad side to this story of sale discovery is that some people don't like it. I get it. It changes the landscape, if it is your farm they are wanting to drill on. But there are environmental and political costs to all energy sources. I'm thinking I'd rather deal with the shale costs instead of the current costs of energy that we've been experiencing.

What about you? Do you notice the price of gas? Do you think about your driving trips?

Shameless Promotion

2011-04-03T22:35:00.001-07:00

Melanie and I created a Facebook page for our book, Just Moms. We were like two high school girls gushing over a crush, giddy with excitement. It was great to meet with her and see her in person. We've been in the book endeavor for almost three years now, and it was great to be with someone who understands the sense of accomplishment at seeing this book get into the hands of readers.

So, now we wonder how bold to be with our promotion and our new page. We plan to use this FB page to let readers know about events and readings, post pictures from events, and show pictures of various contributing authors. But the main goal to have a conversations with our readers. We hope to post questions and get responses. We hope to list helpful resources that support the parenting values we are pursuing as mothers.

We want this site to further the sense of community that is already present in the publication of Just Moms.

Check it out, and click "like." We shamelessly check the site multiple times a day to see how many fans we have.

The News Keeps Spreading...Oprah?

2011-03-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

So the idea of getting to sit on Oprah's couch is probably not too realistic, but I am happy about the buzz so far generated about Just Moms. Elizabeth Esther gave us a great review, we've got some people of note working on future reviews, and blogs are spreading around the news!

My books came in the mail on Saturday. On my shelf sits seven pristine copies. One has my signature and a message to my husband, at his insistence. The others are waiting to take to future book readings and events for readers to purchase. My husband has yet to read my book. He's read bits of it, but I think I'm most excited to hear his opinion on it as a whole. Maybe actually more excited than even the most notable of noteworthy critiques. I've always valued my husband opinion highly and look to him for honest critique and encouragement.

The other day after library story time at my local library the librarian asked me to sign a copy of Just Moms. I got all nervous. I've never given out my signature. How should I do it? I included the D in the middle, like I always do, but at the last minute I put the Schneiter below my first name...which my sister said she wouldn't have done. See how much I over think even the little things? Next time I'll keep my name all on the same line.

This Friday I'm meeting Melanie, my co-editor/writer, and we are planning for our first book reading and our Facebook page!

I'm really glad that it is not over. I have loved the work I've spent on this project over the last three year, yep...three years, and I would hate to see it be all over once the book went to print. I have loved working with Melanie and am glad we did it together. We really were the perfect compliment for each other. I never knew she'd be the perfect writing fit for me on this project...but she really was.

And just like Melanie was the perfect fit as a co-editor, each of our writers and their stories fit perfectly to create a whole story...a whole way of parenting and looking at the world.

Nancy Thomas is one of our writer who helped compliment the message of our book. She does a great job describing some of the essays in the book and her own.

Another one of our writer's worth reading more about is Jan Pierce.

Pst, I thought you'd all like to see what books I place on my top shelf? My top shelf is where I put my favorites, just the best of the best....many of the book listed to the right of my blog. But since I am no longer a young reader, my top shelf is turning in to two top shelves, you'll notice Just Moms is on the 2nd shelf along with some other great reads like Wild Swans.

Tantrums: Don't Give Me Those Looks

2011-03-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

I have to go through it all over again: the stares, glares, and judgmental looks. It happened last week at Target when I was getting those monthly basics such as toilet paper, shampoo, and toothpaste. My youngest threw four enormous fits for all to see, hear, and appreciate. You’d think due to my veteran-mom-status, I’d be able to let those looks bounce right off me, but I really don’t handle getting them very well. I may look unaffected on the outside, but inside, well…

On our last shopping trip, I noticed that most of the people who found my child so irritating and my mothering so despicable were a tad older and had definitely been away from the early mothering years for a while. Maybe they had never been in the two-year-old trenches, ever. Still, this didn’t make their judgments any easier.

Their looks said, “Wow, your child is a brat. You need to be a better parent. Then none of this would happen. It is because of parents like you that our schools, our society, are falling apart. You are the reason I may not get my social security!”

And my non-verbal response, “Hey, the reason he’s throwing these fits is because I’m actually not letting him have his way! I’m actually parenting him, and I’m brave enough to tell him no in public, so there!”

See, I could make two parenting choices during this intense period of inevitable power struggles, my youngest son turned two in February, so I figure I have another 11 months or so to enjoy these rages. One option, I could choose to go nowhere. I could keep our child at home at all cost. But that would teach him nothing. And I would probably shrivel up and die from not getting enough social time. Option two: when we do go out I could let him have whatever he wants! I could have let him get all five stuffed toys that he swiped off the shelves, located for some reason, next to the toilet paper aisle. Thank you marketing experts! Or I could have let him run all around the store, not make him sit in the cart. Or why not let him have that pack of fish crackers, sugary treats shaped like helicopters, or cheap dollar bin items that caught his fancy at the check-out stand. If anyone should receive the glares of condemnation, it should be the management responsible for placing all these treasures at my son’s eye-level and of course, located in check-out when we are forced to wait in line behind other shoppers, giving my youngest lots of time to evaluate all the material pleasures.

No Good Samaritans emerged. No one let me go ahead of them in line. No one said, “Wow, you are an amazing mom. You have three young boys, you take them shopping, you teach them to resist impulse shopping, and you tell them no, swallowing a little pride while they flail on the floor in rage.”

Nope, no one said that. Instead they looked at me as if I was ruining their day. Actually their looks were eerily similar to the looks my sons give me when I don’t let them get what they want either. And their looks mirrored my own heart’s gut reaction to their evil-eye. Which led me to conclude that many adults aren’t much further along than my young son, they (me) are just better at reigning in the primal instincts and masking them a bit as indignation, irritation, and frustration.

A Positive Review

2011-03-25T09:44:00.000-07:00

We approached Elizabeth Esther about reading an advanced copy of our book, Just Moms, and doing a review on her blog. She writes a column for the Orange Country Register, has written numerous freelance articles, has a large blog following, and has even had her say on Fox News. All this to say, she is someone of note, and if she gave us a positive review....well, this could be a very good thing!

Of course, she made it very clear that we were taking a risk because she never promises positive reviews. We did a little more research, reading her blog, and decided to take the plunge and send her a copy.

Today was the day she promised to post. I woke up excited and nervous. It was like the morning after a final audition...checking the posted paper sheet outside the auditorium to see if your name was on the list, on the list and next to the part you really wanted. And I am still experiencing that feeling of giddy high since she gave us a great review! High compliments.

The most humbling comment she made about our book and the contributing writers was, "I couldn’t help but admire these beautiful women for their passionate gentleness, profound kindness and deep self-awareness. These are the kind of mothers who are being the change they want to see in our world."

I hope you go visit her site and give her review a complete read.

Yes, I Get A Spring Break

2011-03-23T18:49:00.000-07:00

I know I'm lucky. My husband is a teacher, and so spring break is something to be seized in our house. We are all together, the whole week. One year we decided to not go anywhere and just work on projects around the house: mistake. The week went, the rains poured down in true Oregon fashion and before we knew it we were back to the grind.

So, we always try and go somewhere, even if it is just for a night or two. Last year we went into the city, Portland: rode the Max, went to OMSI, ate at Ikea, visited the zoo, and swam in the hotel pool.

There is something magical and exciting about a hotel and a pool for our boys, the ages they are at.

This break we got away and went to Seaside. I hadn't been there in 10 years. And it was perfect. What a great beach town to take kids to. The bonus is that there is much to do there even if it is raining...which is often the case on the Oregon coast. All the activities are covered. I also love the "party" feel that is there. It almost doesn't seem like it should be in Oregon, but it is.

It was worth the longer drive. Other coast towns, like Newport and Lincoln City take half the travel time. It took us a solid three hours.

(The photo showing the feet was taken by me right before I got sick on the Tilt A Whirl.)

The Virus: Friday Photo

2011-03-18T09:04:00.000-07:00

Here is how my son spent his 6th birthday...notice the birthday balloon?

The Virus

2011-03-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

I knew I was taunting the virus spirits, and I knew they'd take me down, but I went ahead and bragged about how healthy we'd all been this last year....chalking it up to our strong immune systems since we survived the swine flu last year.

The Virus was mean. It came for my son's 6th birthday. He was out. He got a little sick on Thursday night, but then rebounded...or just faked it for his party on Saturday. Maybe the Virus did that on purpose so he could infect other kids and other families...which he did.

It completely knocked him out on Sunday night until the following Sunday morning. On his actually birthday, he pushed himself to wake up for the grandparents and even changed in to some "handsome" clothes to open a few presents. (PJ's 24/7) Then it was back to the couch and the confusion of the fever.

I really am not a fan of fevers. They make me nervous.

My husband fought it off for a day and the other two boys had a night and day of the Virus. But my oldest suffered the most. He is finally back to school, but still a bit weak. He crashes at the end of each day and goes to bed with little persuasion. He's out in minutes.

The time change hasn't helped.

Next time I'm feeling invincible, I'll keep my mouth shut. (Like right now....I seem to be the only one who wasn't taken down....)

A Must Have: Raising Confident Readers

2011-03-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

Stop buying workbooks and computer programs to get your kids ready to read, just buy Raising Confident Readers by Dr. J. Richard Gentry, or at least check this book out at your local library. I'm leaning toward buying it since I would love to have it on my shelf to pull out as a reference from time to time.

Here is a statistic from the book that was eye-opening to me, "Babies and toddlers in professional families heard a staggering 45 million words, compared to 26 million in working-class families and a meager 13 million for welfare children. Children who interacted with a greater volume of conversation in the first three years of life and with more word and sentence variety developed much larger vocabularies than those who interacted with a smaller volume of conversation and less word and sentence variety. By 3rd grade, the children with robust early word exposure had higher IQs and were better readers, writers, and spellers." (TV does not count as it is a passive activity and not active.)

If you are a mom who sees part of her role as getting her children ready to learn at school, then this is the book for you. And, if you are a mom who homeschools, this is also a must! This book lays the foundation for getting kids reading ready, properly! I think we moms sometimes do more damage than good when we try and be "good moms" and prepare our kids for school, in non-age appropriate ways.

There are currently 21 sticky tabs sticking out of this book...I could have tabbed a lot more.

The first thing that made me smile while reading this book was realizing what an expert teacher my sons has for kindergarten. She's doing everything right and well! My son has a rich literary environment in his classroom, and I'm seeing his love for reading grow and be encouraged. On the bulletin board across the hall from his room she puts their writing work on display. A parent might think, "Wow, these kid are terrible spellers," but an informed parent realizes that young readers need to write phonetically and that writer/readers who do this have a greater awareness of reading and sounds and in the end become better readers and spellers.

Of course, it is important to read to children from the very beginning. I love how my son's teacher balances her phonetic program (Reading Mastery) with a more literature based approach and incorporates site words and picture clues into their reading toolbox. She has Rigby Readers in the classroom and tracks their progress through these books systematically. Children, at the level that my son is at (roughly 1st grade), should be reading books on their own repetitively until they have the books fluid and mastered, almost memorized.

Raising Confident Readers identifies 4 phases a child should be in between birth to age 7, but if your child is older than 7 but struggles to read, then they may still be in one of these phases and the books is very appropriate for you and your child.

There is a test to give your child to help you evaluate their phase, and then there are activities and books to experience with your child based on their stage of development. My oldest is somewhere between Phase 3 and Phase 4. My middle son is somewhere in Phase 1, and my youngest is definitely in Phase 0. :)

Here are books to expose your child to if they are in Phase 4:

easy chapter books
information books
story books
fantasy
mystery
folk tales

Materials for writing and book making:
variety of paper, pencils, markers, and crayons; glue, tape, scissors, stapler, and construction paper

Materials for Word Games:
letter tiles, magnetic letters, magnetic boards

Activities and Technique for Phase 4
"Reading With-Your-Child" (This is where you echo their reading and read over their voice to help them read and anticipate the next word.)
Read-alouds and story retellings
Sight-word collections
Word Games
Kid writing
Hand spelling, with sign language
Making words with tiles
Spelling sight words correctly from memory

Here is a quote from the book, "Children do not have to be reading independently before entering school, but they do have to be prepared for success with reading. Children who enter kindergarten without a cultural heritage enlightened by literature or with no exposure to the tools of literacy---books, paper, pens, and in the twenty-first century, even digital literacy apparatus---are not well prepared. Children who have no appreciation for story telling, no knowledge of the letters of the alphabet, and no beginning awareness of the sounds in words are not well prepared for learning to read through formal instruction in school. These children are at risk for failure with reading and that failure can impact the rest of their lives."

"Every parent should raise a confident reader."

(There is also a section on rewiring your child's brain if you suspect dyslexia, loved that section.)

The Joy of Social Networking: Book Release

2011-03-10T07:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a crazy day for me. Totally exciting! Wow, it would not have been nearly as exciting without all the FB congrats and blog reactions. So, now I am thinking that if I had been published before all this social networking, a release could have been a very quiet
experience.

If you missed yesterday's excitement, the book I've been working on since 2008 is now available to order and will be released on April 4th!

Two of our contributing author's wrote initial blog reactions, and I loved the raw excitment present in each one of them.

Marilee Jolin got an extra surprise and found that her essay was featured on Barclay Press' site as a sample from the anthology. And even though I've read her essay zillions of times, she hadn't read it since the last time she submitted it for final acceptance by Melanie and me. Reading something you wrote, after time has passed, is a strange experience. Especially when their piece is reflective and so much has change in the writer both on the inside and out. Marilee does a good job describing that, and reading her words would be worth your time.

The other writer, Jen Rouse, is a published writer in newspapers and periodicals. She is a very talented writer, but this is her first book to be in! I love her blog post about this big moment in any writer's life.

Just Moms! It Is Here! Someone Pinch Me!

2011-03-09T10:29:00.000-08:00

During my morning emailing routine I was greeted by a lovely email from Barclay Press announcing the release of the book I've been keeping you all updated on....Just Moms: Conveying Justice in an Unjust World.

I've been getting nothing done today, regarding my house and children, instead I've been online spreading the word!

So, you all are next on my list of people to share with.

Here is one endorsement we received:

Not just moms, but dads and kids and teachers and church folk—all
pushed to “the places parenthood pushes us.” We need these honest
moms and their tales of trying to teach justice in an unjust world.
We need to listen as they debate their own choices to work outside
the home or not, to go to church each week or not, to pray out loud
for the runt, to buy Happy Meals, to use the dishwasher, to live in
white suburbs, and to place their ideals up against everyday
disappointments and grace.
-Julia Spicher Kasdorf
-University Park, Pennsylvania
-Associate Professor of English and Women’s Studies
at Penn State; poet; author

You can follow the link in this post and read the introduction and a sample chapter, plus see of listing of all the contributing authors!

You can also place an order to receive a copy by April 5th. Just in time for Mother's Day!

Spread the word! If you post something about this book on one of your blogs, I'd love to read it...so let me know!

Remember That Snow?

2011-03-07T09:27:00.000-08:00

Well, it wasn't that long ago that we got a late winter snow? Right? As ridiculous as Oregonians are for cancelling school due to snow, I do get it. For selfish, childlike reasons. It is an excuse to play in something that is a rare occurrence. And most of the time my husband's school gets canceled too. So we get a spontaneous family day.

Here are some shots from our walk through the woods, not so long ago.

Too Much

2011-03-02T09:37:00.000-08:00

It is one of those marathon weeks for me. Way too much to do and not enough time to get it all done. I have newsletters to write, columns that need to be submitted, drafts that need editing, a house that needs cleaning, kids who need attention, a husband who needs some of me too....so because of all that a much more not mention, my blogging is going to have to wait.

Dying to Share

2011-02-25T09:00:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to avoid children book reviews. This was based off of reader comments when I was asking for blog feedback.

But the other day my sister-in-law said she missed them, and I have been missing them too. I will still hold back--unless I hear otherwise from all of you.

Since this week has been a salute to kids and books, I thought it would be fitting to end with some of my reading favorites of late.

1. I've been loving this book ever since my son got it for Christmas. The Jesus Storybook Bible is amazing! I've been brought to tears on many occasions reading this Bible storybook to my sons at night. The visuals are gorgeous and captivate a child's imagination. The stories are written with high-energy and high-interest. The writer, Sally Lloyd-Jones feels divinely inspired as you read her narratives. We have just read through the Old Testament. Last night my oldest started a monologue all about Moses and the Israelites and the Egyptians. I didn't even know he knew the word Israelites. He had some interesting thoughts and observations about what if the Egyptians and Israelites had changed places and the Pharaoh had to be a slave, then maybe he wouldn't have chased after the Israelites on those fast horses. Then his monologue turned to David and Goliath and later Daniel. From the descriptions he was using I knew he was retelling all the stories from this picture Bible. He ended with, "And next we get to read the New Testament! I'm so excited!"

2. The Rooster Prince of Brestov is a famous Yiddish folktale. First I love folktales, love the morals and lessons they teach young readers. Here is the traditional lesson of this folktale as interpreted by Rebbe Nachman, "For a teacher to raise his student to the heights of spiritual ecstasy, that teacher must approach the student at the student's own level, no matter how low." But also there is the author's view (Ann Redisch Stampler) of the embedded modern-day lesson, "I see the rooster prince tale as a coming-of-age story that explores, with great humor and tenderness, the question of how to nurture a child so he or she will grow up to become a good person. In the story a confused and alienated boy becomes a man by developing true compassion and practicing good deeds.....His stature as a prince suggest that all children, no matter how privileged, must go through this developmental process in order to become kings and queens---adults with moral authority in their families and communities."

So, why did my boys love this book? Well, a red-headed prince decides he is a rooster. And to fully become this rooster, he strips himself to the buff! He walks around and eats corn off the floor. An old, wise man joins him. The pictures are amusing and funny, but the teacher (old man) is gentle and patient as he returns the rooster back to his parents as a worthy prince.

3. 1001 Things to Spot Long Ago is my last recommendation. This is an interactive book that helps teach history and time to young children. Each page is a visual mastery with items to spot and find. The first historical era is "At the market" Mesopotamia, 4000 years ago. One task was finding 10 necklaces. At, "A castle feast" England, 600 years ago my boys had to search for 10 silver goblets. The most recent was "The drive-in movies" North America, 45 years ago. One of the many hunts was for 9 boxes of popcorn.

This is one of those books that your children can look at on their own. I love catching my sons sitting on the couch together spotting and finding items and getting a taste for time and culture, society and value...how they change and evolve with time.

Raising Confident Readers

2011-02-23T08:20:00.000-08:00

If you read my last post, then you know why I checked out Raising Confident Readers by Dr. J. Richard Gentry, at the library.

I haven't read through it yet, but have skimmed it and am very excited to share with you my review of this informative book on reading...to be posted in the near future.

In the "Acknowledgment" Gentry states that his mother was his first reading teacher.

Mine too. No, she didn't sit me down and have me work through phonics charts, although she was capable of this since she taught 2nd grade beginning the year Kennedy was shot and ending the year of 9/11. No, my mother showed me a love of reading and a love of books.

She praised me when I read aloud with expression. She took me to summer reading programs and cheered me on in summer reading contests. She told us that we could stay up late, reading. We had bookshelves filled with children's literature.

Most importantly she read to herself. She always had a book by her side. When she took us swimming down at the river she read on the bank. When the days weren't sunny enough to read outside, she sat in her green chair: tea in hand, book on lap.

Even when we were old enough to read books to ourselves, she read to us. My sister and I sat on either side, listening. These were good times from my grade school summers.

What about you? Who was your first reading teacher? What and who made you love to read?

(If you missed my first post about reading, check it out.)

A Little Opininated About Books (Warning, this gets random.)

2011-02-21T09:00:00.000-08:00

So I have to admit, I was suckered in. I was almost like one of those parents who gets a bumper sticker that says something about their child being an honor student. You see, my son got bumped up to a 1st grade reading group, one of only two kinders to do so. We, me, celebrate literature in our family. He's been a lover of books at a young age, hence the slight gloat!

My husband and I keep anticipating the day when he will read and be devoured by his reading. Things were looking promising. Recently, he wrote in class that he was an expert in reading. He asked me, "Why am I just so good at reading!?" He was feeling good and seemed to be loving it.

Then it all stopped. Instead of relishing his times of reading with me in the evenings, he bristled at them. There was a noticeable change. He was still glad about the move to 1st grade reading, but something happened. I decided to check it out.

I observed and took part in his reading group today. The school is using Reading Mastery, a new adopted curriculum with the test score data any district would want to bet their curriculum money on. And while I observed some great reading strategies in the program, there were a few things that concerned me.

1. Where was the love and passion? The stories and sentences the kids were reading were so dry. I found myself struggling to focus and pay attention.

2. Because it is very rote and drill based, behavior issues were creeping up everywhere, especially in little kinder boys' wiggly bodies.

3. There were wasted moments. While students were taking turns reading lists of words, totally with no context, other kids had to sit and wait. And so they zoned. I would too. Actually that isn't all bad. I understand that happens when you have such large groups of students reading together. This is not the school's fault really.

4. It hit me. My son was showing the same body language he had been showing to me for the last few weeks. He was not engaged. This was not fun. And I happen to think reading is one of the easiest things to make fun.

5. One thing I do know, is that RM was first developed at the UofO for special ed students. I can see why. But is this the best tool for students who are eager learners, who would thrive under a more creative and literature based approach to reading? There must be a balance.

6. Luckily my child's teacher supplements the reading in the afternoon with the old curriculum which is filled with wonderful stories that should motivate most children to read. (And it does. He brought home one of these books and we read it together. He laughed all the way through and kept looking at me to see if I was getting all the jokes.)

7. I'm going to have a meeting to talk to the principal about my concerns. I don't want to get rid of the program. I just want to make sure my child is motivated by school to become a life-long-learner. I want his passion for reading back.

UPDATE:

(I talked to the reading mastery specialists at the school, my meeting with the principal was canceled due to illness. Things are looking up.)

A. Reading Mastering is just though the 2nd grade. Once kids work their way through all the levels they are free from RM! So, once my son gets though the 2nd grade, which I anticipate happening sometime next year, he gets to do other reading and other projects. There is currently a small group of 2nd graders who are working on research projects together and reading together because they tested out of the RM levels. I like this. This excites me! I would love it even more, if they read with these children out of fun literary books. I told her my "dream."

B. Teaching decisions are being driven by tests because politicians love to use the test scores for their own agendas. The more the public buys in to these scores and the idea that teachers should be paid based on these scores, the more the curriculum is going to be dictated by what is on the test. And guess what is on the reading test? Informative reading, not literary. Passages about science and history. So, if you want kids to pass you have to teach them how to read these types of passages well. I get that and do not fault the schools for this move toward RM. I blame us and our vigilance to "fix" public schools, but not really understand what we are demanding or wishing for...or how to best fix them.

8. Note: I taught 7th and 8th grade reading and each year had a class of 30 low-level-readers. The best way, I found, to get them reading and improving their reading, was having them read high interest books. Two examples of this were The Outsiders and Harry Potter. Each one of my kids found a way to read and complete those novels. I can still see them scattered around my room, reading in comfortable corners completely engaged and transported to another place. When I had to close down our reading time the room irrupted with, "Awe, really? Please let us read some more." And I always did.

9. Early reader books are way too overrated. I've noticed that section at the library keeps growing. For the most part these books are dull and boring. I see more and more parents checking these books out and having their kids read to them, but I think story and understanding story gets missing from these types of books. I would encourage you to read traditional picture books to your kids each night. These books are art. These books breathe life into literature. I read a blog once from a children's agent that spoke about the decline in publishing of kids' picture books because of public demand. Wendy Lawton noticed that there was a trend for parents to skip picture books and to push their kids into chapter books. I think we as parents are missing the point of reading if this is how our pocket books are speaking to the book industry.

OK, those are my thoughts. Still looking forward to my meeting with the principal, and feeling more positive about RM after speaking to the school coordinator. And I am so thankful my son has an awesome kinder teacher. I still think she's one of the best, and I love that she teaches to the whole student.

Its Coming...The Book Is Coming

2011-02-15T14:00:00.000-08:00

I can't believe how long this process has taken, this book-writing-to-publishing process. (It has been four years since Melanie Mock and I had our first conversation about a book idea, a book written by moms and for moms, about something we were passionate about: teaching our children the values of social justice and peacemaking.) I have learned so much from how to write a proposal and shop the book around, to putting out a call for submissions, to editing, to arranging chapters and topics, etc. And I've loved all of it.

I really liked the editing process the best. I secretly love editing. I guess I should have gone into the profession, but maybe then I wouldn't like it as much. But editing is when writing gets good, refined, and beautiful. This is what I love best.

I loved editing with Melanie, my co-editor. I loved how we complimented each other. So far, we are still on time with all our deadlines. Making some glorious day in April our release date! We get one last chance to look our manuscript over and then we need to get it back to Barclay Press by the beginning of March. I'm excited to get my hands on it one more time. We sent it off to them in October and it is like we sent our youngest child off to college...it has been out of our hands; we have had to trust the professionals, the experts. (Pst, I do trust them.)

I'd love to tell you the title of the book, but that is top secret. However, I would like to offer one of my reader/bloggers a chance at a sneak peak to our anthology.

If you'd like to read a first copy and write a review on your blog please make a comment to this post and follow the directions below:

1. Tell me why your blog would be a perfect place to create buzz about our book. I want to know how your readers are different from mine. I want to know how many readers you get daily? How many followers you have, and how many blogs regularly refer to you and your posts.

2. Leave me the link to your blog so I can come check you out!

3. If I pick you to receive a complementary first copy, then you will need to share a brief post about this opportunity with links back to my blog posts about our book project. Then I will make sure you get your copy! Happy reading and happy writing.

I'm so excited to reveal more to you, my readers! I can't wait to share the title. I can't wait to share the cover design. I can't wait to share who the contributing authors are! We have an excellent group of writers in our anthology with great stories to share. You are going to love them.

Zumba: Hip Shaking Fun

2011-02-14T09:26:00.000-08:00

Zumba. It is my thing of late. This is not because I am a believer in New Year’s Resolutions. This desire to shimmy and shake my way into a fitter self has been brewing ever since I had to give up group exercise in 2005....yep, after the birth of my oldest. It just got too complicated.

My exercise was a scheduling nightmare that didn’t just involve me, but affected my husband and my sons. Classes either happened right in the middle of supper or were during prime family time. There was always the option to take a late-night water aerobics class, but by then I was exhausted and needed my rest so that I could wake and feed whatever baby was currently waking and feeding.

But, we are coming out of the tunnel of early-year-intensity. I even find that I don’t need a nap everyday like I used too, not that I don’t want a nap every day, but I hardly need it. In fact if I do chose to snooze I’m often struggling to fall asleep at night---when I really do need to sleep or my next morning is a bit sluggish.

I’ve tried other means to muscles. I’ve tried Netflix exercise videos, but I’m really not motivated. I mean, that woman on the screen shouting at me to do more deep-leg-bends, well, she really doesn’t know if I’m doing them or not. Plus, my boys try to join in and when a move dictates that I lay on the floor, my exercise routine turns into WWF wrestling, three boys to one mom. The boys always win.

Then I tried running, but if it was too cold...well, then I didn’t really want to go out. And if it got too hot, well, that wasn’t good either. So that left about 6 sporadic weeks out of the year that fit my running temperature needs.

Then I thought, “Well, maybe I’ll just do a few sit-ups each night.” But even that didn’t last. Nutella was way more fun.

The thing is, from the outside I look great. No one would know that I didn’t do a thing to keep my figure. I’ve had people ask me how many miles I run, assuming that I must be a runner. I just smile and say, “Yeah, I run after my boys. Not sure how many miles that gets me in a day.”

But I know. I know I’m not the fit person I used to be. I know that if I try and go on a spontaneous hike up a mountain with my family that I will perhaps die somewhere near the summit. I know when my sister-in-law asks if I want to snowshoe with her I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to keep up with her drive and stamina.

And it is because of this knowing that I signed up for Zumba. I bought a new outfit, recruited some friends, and found a class that is after the dinner hour, but before bedtime.

There is no reason this won’t work. No reason why I shouldn’t claim this as a New Year’s Resolution, but really it is not. It is just a sign of a new era in our family, that’s all it really is....and a whole lot of crazy hip shaking fun.

What's In A Name

2011-02-11T09:22:00.000-08:00

You may have noticed that I deleted some of your past comments. This is because they included the names of my children, and for some reason I have this need to keep their names "their" names and not out on my blog. When I first started blogging I wasn't even going to use their real pictures...obviously I changed that opinion, but I still like keep their names private. So in the future you can just refer to them as my oldest, middle, and youngest son.

The Freedom to Choose-My Take on Franzen's book Freedom

2011-02-10T10:52:00.000-08:00

(Note: All authors write with an audience in mind. This book review, minus some minor editing, was originally written for a MOPS newsletter. So, that might explain the angle I took in promoting and reviewing this read.)

Freedom by Jonathan Franzen is one of the more challenging books that I’ve read. Not because of the writing style or language, but because of the content. Jonathan is being acclaimed as the “Next Great American Author.” He attempted, with his latest novel, to capture current American culture.

That is why it was so challenging. All of us, at book group, agreed that he really did write an accurate portrayal of the values and views of the culture in where we live.

Walter and Patty meet in college. But there is Walter’s best friend, Richard. Walter and Richard have a very competitive relationship, almost brotherly. Patty loves Walter, but it takes her making some poor choices involving Richard to discover this.

I cannot adequately summarize this book, it is way too long, but I can tell you that it follows the lives of Walter and Patty from college, in the late 70’s, up until the present day when their children become adults. Each character is faced with the dilemma of FREEDOM. Each person has the freedom to make whatever choices they want. However, they must also live with the negative and positive consequences of their actions. All of us at book group liked how real and truthful Jonathon was in accurately narrating the various consequences each character had to deal with and work though....like when Patty has an affair with Richard.

Joey has the “freedom” to marry his girlfriend, Connie, in secret and then go on an overseas trip with his college roommate’s sister, who he has always been interested in seeing what might materialize between the two of them. But then Joey must face the consequences of Connie’s emotional break down and the irritation and annoyance of the roommate’s sister when she finds that our Joey is actually married and not available.

Jonathon captures the culture view that each person creates their own definition of right and wrong, but he also does an accurate job of showing that regardless of your view on absolutes, there really are some universal consequences in choices that involve relationship with others. We cannot control all the variables.

The book does actually end happy. We were all surprised and glad by this. In the end Patty and Walter forgive each other and realize how much they need and love each other. Joey also sees Connie for who she is, his best friend and his wife...someone he does not need to be ashamed of. And the competition between Walter and Richard becomes obsolete because Patty and Walter work through the insecurities in themselves and with each other.

I think this last book discussion was one of our best. There were some pretty sexually explicit scenes in the novel which made many of us leery of recommending this book to just anyone.

God’s truth is out in the world whether we agree with it or not; all good writer’s observe this truth and write about this...intentionally or not. Franzen did just this with Freedom and because of that observed TRUTH I would agree with many who call him a great writer, and I would even venture to say that his novel will remain a classic.

Birthday Success-The Best Toys for a Two-Year-Old Boy

2011-02-07T09:00:00.000-08:00

It only took me three tries to get it right, to buy developmentally appropriate toys that I won't find myself sneaking into the garbage can at a later date. It probably helped that I didn't shop at Target or Wall-mart, but went to a locally owned toy store. My sister and sister-in-law did too....in their perspective towns, and it was a hit!

So, if you need to buy a gift for a two-year-old boy in the near future I would highly recommend these presents!

I'm sure that his love of this chicken comes from the fact that we have our very own pasture-fed chickens.

Yep, these are crayons. Great for little fingers.

Happy Birthday Baby!

2011-02-04T09:00:00.000-08:00

Yep, my baby turns two! What a great decision he was. My husband and I have no regrets that we went for three and that we got three boys instead of two boys and a girl.

Our little baby is two and full of vim and vigor! He is on-the-go! He is pure joy. He is Mr. Adventure/Mr. Outdoors. His bestfriends are dirt, grass, the chickens, the dog, and grandpa...in no particular order.

He might only be two, but he thinks he's as old as his brothers and holds his own well.

Today we celebrate!

God-Sighting 10,001--Our Lost Dog

2011-02-01T14:28:00.001-08:00

I had a sick feeling, not in the pit of my stomach, but in that place we call the soul. My soul was bleeding. Each morning I'd wake up with hope. This would be the morning he'd come back. I'd look out our bedroom window and scan the yard. I'd go out onto our back porch and holler, "Oscar, Oscar, where are you? Oscar?" My eyes would play tricks on me. I'd think he was here, our dog. I was sure he was at the end of our lane. I jumped into our van and drove down to rescue him, but it was just the right colored bush and from a distance and with the right imagination that bush seemed to really be him.

Our dog went missing on a Thursday night between the hours of midnight and 3 am. If you've been reading my blog, you know that Oscar is one of the family. He is part of us and not just us, but the lives of my parents who live next door.

My dad searched the woods. Walked down by the river. We tried to go on with our day, but as the day progressed this horrible feeling increased. We all knew a most horrible thing had occurred. Someone had stolen our dog---our faithful dog who is so extremely loyal that he doesn't even leave our porch unless we take him on an adventure around the farm.

We started asking around, talking to people who might have seen something.

Friday night came, no Oscar. Saturday was a long, painful day. We started praying, begging really. I was driving our van and just started verbally speaking out to God, begging him to move in the person who took him. That, that person would somehow feel remorse and return him. Others were praying this same prayer. I just kept repeating, "Lord hear our prayer....Lord hear our prayer." I kept praying the impossible, claiming that He was the God of impossible. Our boys witnessed this.

In the midst of all this turmoil, our youngest fell off our play structure and ended up needing stitches at the ER. This only added to the distress of this last weekend.

I started praying that if Oscar was dead, that we'd find his body, so we could move on, and not keep wondering. He was not even three yet. If we never found out what happened to him, then each year I'd think and wonder about him...wonder where he was, if he was happy, if he was being loved.

Then we started hearing more reports of dognappings, of desperate people selling large dogs for research to make extra money. This made my heart even more sick.

Sunday was fading. We'd finally decided that if he didn't show up by the following weekend, we'd get a new puppy...we needed something to make us joyful again. I fond myself just wanting to sleep, not wanting to be industrious or even eat.

My father stopped working in the orchard because he was just too lonely without Oscar.

Then I saw a flash. It was 5 pm on Sunday. My 70-year-old mother was sprinting across our back yard and flailing her arms in excitement. "He's back! Oscar is back!"

And there he was. We all smothered him. He had come sprinting across the two eastern fields. His heart was racing, a scared, desperate racing...not just a tired, running racing.

In the clump of trees he ran from has an old gravel road where someone could sneak in and let a dog go, undetected.

We hugged our dog and kept saying, "Its really him. He's really back. God really heard our prayer."

"Boys! God heard our prayer. He did a miracle. He brought Oscar back. His Spirit helped Oscar find us."

What a blessing. Through this very sad and desperate experience, which I'd never want to repeat, our boys felt the love of their very real, heavenly Father. They saw their parents pleading and praying to God, and they saw that God responded.

There are so many metaphors I could bring out...how God is desperate for all his creation to return to him and know him...how he's a loving God who wants to give good gifts to his children.....that his Spirit is working and powerful...

Now, if you aren't a dog lover you may not realize how amazing this whole experience was. You may be mumbling, "Um, its just a dog." But, it was our dog and is our dog. And I continue to be grateful that he has been returned to his rightful place in our family.

Are You Friends With The Tiger Mama?

2011-01-26T09:55:00.000-08:00

The answer: no. But, she has everyone talking though. Time had a huge piece on her in this last issue, and in our local paper there has been much editorial/commentary.

There are a few, and only a few, concepts of hers that I actually believe in.

1. I like to praise my sons for effort and hard work. My oldest is very motivated with his scripture memory. Every night we lay in bed and work on his verses. He's driven and tries to learn at least three a night. His dad asked him if he thought he'd be able to say them all (roughly 10) at Awana's. "Yeah, because I am so good at it." Well, I am glad he has such a healthy self-image, but I really have been telling him that he's doing so well with his verses because he's working hard at it and putting in the time to learn them. AND, he's the one driving this passion. I'm supporting it.

It does bother me that we, our society, tend to praise and give awards for being mediocre. I want awards, grades, praise to mean something and be the result of excellence. So, I get this approach to parenting, but the Tiger Mom is going far. I love all my son's efforts too, and I never belittle their attempts at trying a new skill or hobby. I think there is a reason why Asian girls ages 14 and 15 have such high suicide rates. That is not something I want to foster as a parent.

2. That our job as parents isn't to shield our children from all hardship or situations that are tough. Our job is to give them problem-solving skills and creative thinking so they know how to help themselves in less-than-ideal situations.

But, I'm not willing to say that the Chinese way is the more superior way. I just don't buy the test scores. I'm actually quite tired of all the test scores and how politicized it has made education.

I think we all know that tests do not give the full picture, right?

I had a brief teaching stint at a university and loved all my students from China. They worked hard. Were conscientious. Always wanted to do assignments right, and would try and try again until they got it.

However, they struggled to give their opinions. Form opinions. Think creatively. They were eager to learn, and often commented on how different this style of teaching/learning was. They loved it though. They liked the freedom they experienced in my classroom. As long as you could support your literary critique, it was valid.

They struggled with class discussion, jumping in and asserting their opinions. These Chinese students marveled at their American counterparts who were so comfortable in this setting.

I think we, China and the US, are two distinct cultures who value very different things, and I for one am glad to be raising my children in this one.