Shapes That Roll

I'm am so giddy to recommend these next to two library finds.

The first one is Shapes That Roll by Karen Nagel and illustrations by Steve Wilson.



The next time I have to lead a preschool activity I'm going to use this book to introduce how shapes are all around us, and then I'm going to have the kids go on a shape hunt, followed by a shape craft! It is extremely interactive and the illustrator has does an excellent job at almost qualifying this book as a touch and feel. The shapes are glossy and textured and has an amazing bookish smell! I'm serious! It smells distinct. You have to check it out and get back to me on the smell part.

And then I found another great book by Carin Berger called Forever Friends. She is fast becoming one of my favorite author/illustrators. This little book speaks volumes in its simplicity. She is able to conjure up deep emotions in just simple lines and phrases. You'll find yourself quite pleased that the bird returned to his friend, the bunny, after the sad, long winter.



Have fun reading! I'd love to hear which books I've recommended that you've enjoyed and if any of you end up checking out or buying these latest recommendations.

Ultimate Soccer Mom

I am about to join the ranks of countless other Americans. Got the van. Got the kids. Got the passion. I will soon be an official soccer mom. Everything about that title makes me cringe....scares me. I don’t want to be carting my children around from one organized activity to the next. I don’t want to live with my butt in an uncomfortable bleacher seat. I don’t want to make all new friends with all the other catty soccer moms. I had visions of piano lessons, musicals, and theatre events. I was supposed to take someone shopping.


But that is not the direction we seem to be heading. My husband has successfully passed on his enthusiasm for soccer even though he claims our children can choose whatever they want. How can I deny my son this one thing? Besides, if I am at all honest with myself, then I have to admit I’m getting a little giddy about the whole thing.

I went on-line and did the research, printed out the appropriate forms, checked the schedule to our family calendar....it will all work out.

Our oldest is ready! He’s been playing soccer in our living room since he was old enough to walk. The greats have played here. We have frequent matches between Fernando Torres and Steven Gerard. There are penalty kicks. I sit and watch. I cheer and beam. He does his moves and then asks, “Did you see that?” It is a vicious cycle of pleasing one another. I’m pleased that he’s so happy with himself and he’s happy watching me praise his passion for the game. Good feelings abound in our safe, living room.



Of course, there aren’t any real opponents. The games always end the way they are supposed to. The good team always wins. They might be down 3-0, but in the end they will be victorious. If the opponent, his younger brother, gets in the way, someone was off-sides. Calls always seem to go in his favor.

I think we are ready for the next stage. I think we are ready for this world of soccer to become a real and tangible passion. I think he wants to be part of a team. He’s watched enough real games to know there is something more out there waiting for him, and I think he’s at the age where if the calls don’t go his way he’ll be fine because all he’ll have to do is look over to the woman in the mama shorts and know he’s loved, adored, and loved regardless of the final score or the obnoxious mother sitting next to me shouting in my ear.

Oh Spring Break!

Oh Spring Break, how I love you. I need you. I anticipate you. And I need you to be good.



Here is a Top Ten Salute to past Spring Breaks:

-That one week in high school when my sister made me do my track workouts on the beach, and I could literally lean and not fall over. That's how strong the wind was and how ridiculous that workout was. I let her know the whole time...still do.

-A Mexico house building trip in college. The best part was when I went to the local school and played soccer with the kids on recess...the worst was when a fellow worker dropped her hammer on my head....it hurt so bad and she giggled! Arg. Still hurts.

-Going to Victoria with my husband and staying in a 5 Start hotel for only 34 a night....sipping a lot of tea and eating way too many scones. (The creepy part was staying in Thor Town Hostel.)

-Seattle! Got to love the donuts at Pike's Place.

-Working in a homeless shelter in Phoenix, sleeping next to a bullet hole in a window and hearing the search helicopter every night, but really....the amazing women I met and still think about. Those kids....where are they now? They are in their early 20's. I hope they have better lives.

-San Fransisco!

-Players Drama Tour in California! How great is running around Disneyland with some of your best friends?!

-Re-landscaping our backyard and getting stuck in a rock quarry outside of Sisters.

-Visiting the family in Georgia the year after we were married. I loved going and seeing all the significant places and people to my husband.

-This one....because it is our first spring break with all three boys accounted for.

What was your best Spring Break?

Friday Photo: Vote!

Vote Readers! Which is the free range egg and which is from the store?

Favorite Lightning Squeak!

“Don’t cry mama. It’s OK.”

Did I look disturbed? I wasn’t. I was here for them and their comfort. They weren’t in need.. I’m glad. I mean, I didn’t want them to cry and wail and be distraught and never eat chicken again, but they almost seemed unfazed from this bloody event.

Is this because they are boys? Would girls find the whole process of butchering chickens heart-wrenching? But my boys are sensitive. They care. They emote. My middle especially. He feels and empathizes, I know, I’ve read him many books. He feels the right feelings, gets sucked in, and exudes complete joy at a timely resolution, but on the day of the butchering there was nothing.

They watched. They saw. The started riding their bikes around the shop. It wasn’t a special or unusual event to them. Later that week when I made chicken enchiladas I was the only one choking it down, not due to taste, but due to mental imagery. I kept telling myself it was because I had forgotten where my food came from. I would have to reteach myself what was good and right and natural versus purchasing a bag of eight frozen chicken breasts.

There was one special chicken. At least he was special to me. He was our surprise, rare breed. He was black and white and speckled and had a fancy tail. He was the only one that had been named: Favorite Lightning Squeak. I think I had imagined a bigger connection between Favorite and my sons than there really was. The test of this came on our third Saturday of butchering. (We had ordered a straight run of 25, and just my luck, 17 were male.)

I thought we’d all agreed we’d keep the special one, the unique one. I kept reassuring the boys we’d only kill the white ones, Favorite was our pet.

My husband came in the house to let us know that if we really wanted to save Favorite then we’d better come out and plead our case to my father, Grandpa. I sent each boy out. The first one came back. Grandpa was unmoved. I went out with the second. There wasn’t much response. “I don’t think Grandpa listened to me.” True.

Nope. No more Favorite. All the roosters are gone now. No more leader. No more cock-ca-doodle-doo. Just a small brood of clucking hens, and once again my sons comforted me rather than me comforting them.

“Don’t worry mom. Grandpa said we could get a duck. He says he doesn’t want to eat fertilized eggs. Do ducks fertilize eggs?”

Awesome. Nothing like a little early lesson in procreation.

A Book of Letter Beauty

I have found a modern work of art, and it can be found in the children's section of your local library. (Or hopefully it will be soon.) It is titled Alphabeasties: And Other Amazing Types

I really wanted to copy and paste a picture of the cover, but I was unable to do so through Amazon. It is a must own though! I'm planning on purchasing this book for myself...and my kids.

Each page is pleasant to the eyes. The colors used are calming. The use of letters to form various animals is clever and enchanting. One of my favorite pages is the O for octopus. The waves fold out to reveal the tentacles and legs of this underwater beast. What forms the animal? O's of course. Each animal is made out of the letter it represents.

Then on each page are various forms/types of each letter. Ever found it hard to explain why and A looks like an A even when it is written like a? This book helps explore that with your children. On the A page there was a gigantic alligator, but also an accordion made entirely out of giant A's.

On the H page was a boy who's crew cut was a straight line of boxed H's.

See, you know you want to check it out!



My other find is Truckery Rhymes. It is a book meant to be sung. I sit down and sing the entire thing to my boys. Each page is another poem to a familiar tune like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Here is one you might enjoy:

Rock-a-bye mixer at the site top.
When the wind blows, the building will rock.
When the beam breaks, the mixer will fall.
And down will come Melvin---bricks, beams, and all.

Cheese Gun Book Project

It is fun to have a book project, a little dream come true.

I remember sitting on the multi-colored rag rug in our living room and declaring to the typewriter in front of me that I would be the youngest author every published! OK, so that didn't happen.

But this is.....The Cheese Gun. I'm wondering how the writing is going? We are getting submissions in, and it is like opening a Christmas present. I think Melanie and I both get a bit giddy over it. (The deadline is June 1st.)

Some of the submissions are brilliant! They are exactly what we are looking for, some.....well....

If you are working toward submitting, read over the submission guidelines and make sure you are writing what we are hoping to read. If you have questions, send them our way. We are both educators, and are used to the questions. In fact I think we like questions. Questions mean our students are listening.

Kick It, Kick It, Score!

I am about to join the ranks of countless other Americans. Got the van. Got the kids. Got the passion. I will soon be an official soccer mom. Everything about that title makes me cringe....scares me. I don’t want to be carting my children around from one organized activity to the next. I don’t want to live with my butt in an uncomfortable bleacher seat. I don’t want to make all new friends with all the other catty soccer moms. I had visions of piano lessons, musicals, and theatre events. I was supposed to take someone shopping.

But that is not the direction we seem to be heading. My husband has successfully passed on his enthusiasm for soccer even though he claims our children can choose whatever they want. How can I deny my son this one thing? Besides, if I am at all honest with myself, then I have to admit I’m getting a little giddy about the whole thing.

I went on-line and did the research, printed out the appropriate forms, checked the schedule to our family calendar....it will all work out.

Our oldest is ready! He’s been playing soccer in our living room since he was old enough to walk. The greats have played here. We have frequent matches between Fernando Torres and Steven Gerard. There are penalty kicks. I sit and watch. I cheer and beam. He does his moves and then asks, “Did you see that?” It is a vicious cycle of pleasing one another. I’m pleased that he’s so happy with himself and he’s happy watching me praise his passion for the game. Good feelings abound in our safe, living room.

Of course, there aren’t any real opponents. The games always end the way they are supposed to. The good team always wins. They might be down 3-0, but in the end they will be victorious. If the opponent, his younger brother, gets in the way, someone was off-sides. Calls always seem to go in his favor.

I think we are ready for the next stage. I think we are ready for this world of soccer to become a real and tangible passion. I think he wants to be part of a team. He’s watched enough real games to know there is something more out there waiting for him, and I think he’s at the age where if the calls don’t go his way he’ll be fine because all he’ll have to do is look over to the woman in the mama shorts and know he’s loved, adored, and loved regardless of the final score or the obnoxious mother sitting next to me shouting in my ear.

Friday Photo

Does this really need a title?


Spelunking Anyone?

Top Ten

Happy Birthday!

My husband and I have a tradition of creating spontaneous top ten's to commemorate significant moments.

So, here is his birthday top ten.

Top Ten Reasons I Still Get Excited When You Look At Me

10. You make me laugh! Very few people do this...as you know.
9. You always put me and the boys first, to the point of your own exhaustion.
8. You are even more attractive to me today than that first day I saw you in the George Fox Theatre.
7. You are creative. Some don't know the artist in you, but I do, and I love it. It now expresses itself in soccer and your coaching. You possess a fierce, passionate intensity that drew me to you and continues too.
6. You are up for adventure and new things. We were better at this before kids, but actually kids are a continual changing adventure.
5. You desire to love God and love others with your whole heart, soul, and mind.
4. You are the best example of what it means to be a man to our three boys.
3. You listen. You get me. You know me better than I know myself. Seriously, I know this is a cliche', but it is true.
2. You are content and rest in the places God puts us. You have an eternal perspective. Thank you.
1. You are excited to grow old with me and promise to find me beautiful in all my wrinkles, and I know I will feel the same about you.

I can't believe you are 35. It wasn't supposed to go this fast....weren't we just 21? I know I was. Happy Birthday.

A Good Day

No computer. My husband took it with him. It was a good day. The boys weren't asking to play PBS kids games or watch Chilly Willy. I wasn't tempted to make blog posts or status updates. Those things on my to-do list that involved e-mail, didn't happen, and it was good. I actually kept my house in better order than usual. I got all my garbage cans emptied, cleaned my washroom and back bath, and took three hours to deep clean my van. (It not longer smells like gut bomb.) I was feeling quite efficient until my dishwasher died.

Still, I felt accomplished! (I washed all my dishes by hand with a smile on my face unfortunetely hands were extra dry the rest of the day.) I think I need to try and establish No Computer Mondays! Mondays is a day when the chaos from the weekend always makes me feel like there is a heavy cloud of to-do's that will never get done.

Sometimes I do long for the days when there was one computer per school and they wheeled it around from classroom to classroom. Remember when the phone rang and rang and that just meant no one was home; it was your job to call them back, not there's. People drove in their cars and played the alphabet game with their kids instead of asking them if they wanted to watch Nemo or Cars. Kids got to watch Sesame at 10, and that was it. They didn't ask for more because there wasn't.

I read that nostalgia is up since the Great Recession. (Is that its official name?) The economic downturn isn't causing my longing for older times. I've always been this way. Recently I found some old letters written between my mom and my grandma between 1975 and 1979. I could almost feel the era. I was quickly surrounded by that ugly rage rug and heavy curtains displaying putrid green hues. (I thought it was quite classic that the letters were full of anticipation of my sister and then later her sleeping and waking habits, but the only mention of me was the hope of baby brother and then something about me opening my birthday presents with my teeth....on my 2nd birthday. Oh the plight of subsequent children.

Well, this very focused post has turned in to a ramble, but all this to say....there was a time when appliances/technology saved housewives time, but now I think the new ones are sucking it all up.

Maybe I should take the time today to write a letter and stick an overpriced stamp on it.