42 More Days

42 more days to write, edit, peer edit, rewrite, edit some more, rewrite again, and submit to our anthology. The due date for submissions is June 1st.

It is fun reading the stuff that has come in so far. Everyone has a story worth reading to share with others. Go for it. Don't talk yourself out of sending something good our way.

If you need the submission guidelines, click on the tentative title here: The Cheese Fun and Other Misfires. Also, if you click on my label "writing" you'll be able to read all the entries I've made related to this topic. You'll get a better idea of the voice we are looking for by reading those posts.

Happy 42 days of writing!

Friday Photo 4/16/2010

A Much Better Family Photo....At The Beach

Messy Play Part Two

If you missed my post on the importance of messy play, you may want to click and read...get some background. For those of you who read it, enjoy the pictures! This evening of Gak was perfect. It had been a long, rainy day and was everything we needed for quality time and post-dinner play that didn't drag. Plus, my boys crave a lot of daddy time. When they don't get it, they act out. This filled their love tanks well.

Friday Photo 4/9/2010

Do I really need a title? (Notice the ancient microwave? That was the first one my parents ever purchased. I remember the whole shopping experience. Sears actually had a sales expert just for microwaves. The catalyst: my mother went back to work. I recently gave it away, and it is now housed in my husband's classroom where it gets properly ridiculed by the Tech Savvy Generation.)

Worms and a Backhoe

I love boys. I have three, five if you count the dog and the husband. That is why I love books that connect with boys.

Here are two great picks from our last trip to the library:

I Am A Backhoe
captures the imagination of a little boy, both the character in the book and those reading it. The little boy's arms and legs and hands become different construction site trucks and diggers. When he rides on his daddy's back, he is atop a flatbed truck.




My oldest is done with his truck years, but there was a time when he spent hours in the dirt pushing and excavating, just like the main character in this book.

The other book is Winnie Finn, Worm Farmer. I love that the main character is a girl, but not a girl wearing pink and fairy wings. No, a girl who loves worms. This makes me think of my nephew. He had quite a worm phase. He's moved on to bigger and better bugs and reptiles and creatures of all kinds, but I will always associate worms with his cute two-year-old self.

April Showers Bring Messy Play

Anyone else feel the pain of these rainy days? I am such a better mom in the summer, or I like my job more in the summer. It is so easy. You just open the backdoor and away they go...all day long they play.

These last two weeks have been especially arduous. It is very fitting that I recently checked out a book called Fun With Messy Play. The woman writes about the importance of messy play with special needs children, but she and I both agree that all children need this opportunity. So, with a bit of inspiration and the rains coming down...here is how we survived yet another day indoors.



It only took me three boys to figure out that sticking items into play dough and then letting the child pull them out is a major source of entertainment. It bought me like 15 minutes, and at this age that is quite impressive. Have I mentioned how intensive 12 mos. to 18 mos. is? Well, it is for me.




After reading Messy Play I've decided that letting my son feed himself applesauce counts. The author mentions that messy play needs an objective. Objective: eating.







Noodles count too.

Part Two Coming Soon!

God-Sighting 9,201...

It was a rare and treasured sunny, Spring Break day in Oregon. We were on our family vacation. The boys were so excited. We all love to travel, glad we passed this passion on to our sons at such a young age. We’d decided on a simple, short trip to Portland....two nights in a hotel, ride the MAX, see the city, go to the zoo, OMSI, swim in the pool, and visit IKEA. I felt we were giving our boys a showcase tour of the Rose City.

But, the highlight for me was the lunch we shared in Pioneer Courthouse Square. It has been dubbed Portland’s Living Room, and really...it is. Everyone is there. Everyone is relaxing. Everyone is doing what you’d do in a living space. We ordered a large pizza from Pizza Smeccha. We were spread out on the north western steps. We were warm and happy. I found the man sunning himself and exposing us all to his hairy chest to be a bit of a distraction, but otherwise I was pretty much focused on my family and our time together.

Someone else was not. Someone else was noticing someone without. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw my three-year-old scooting a plate of pizza toward a man sitting a few steps up from us. He wasn’t scared of this man, who we would label homeless and a “stranger.” No, he was just unsure how to go about sharing his food.

The man was also unsure if he was supposed to take a toddlers gift. I smiled, “Honey, do you want to give your pizza to him?”

“Yes!”

The man took it and from the rate to which he enjoyed it, my son observed his need for food well. I couldn’t help but beam with pride. I was impressed by my child’s skills to observe and empathize. Was all my parenting and modeling and teaching working? This is my goal: Love God, Love Others. I would be more pleased if my children grew up to be models of this type of life choice than if they were successful embodiments of our capitalist system. I would love if I could pass on a sense of only needing our daily bread and what was extra we pass on.

I saw a glimpse of this in my son. Much of what I try and model gets flubbed up by my own imperfections, but because of God’s grace and God’s light in my child, some of what I value is being passed on.

Later when it was time for us to catch the next MAX train the man stood in the doorway and held up the whole train so that we could all get in with kids and bags in tow. He was giving back. We received his gift to us. He gave what he could, and I was thankful. It was what we needed at the time.

Later when I asked my son why he’d given him his pizza he answered simply, “Because he didn’t have any food, and it is good to share.” Then he launched in to the story of Jesus on the cross and the two robbers and how the one robber wasn’t nice to Jesus, but the other robber was, and Jesus forgave his sins and told him he’d be in heaven with him. This all connected in his mind, and I think it was a significant piece of my son’s spiritual journey with Christ. It was real, and it flowed from a place strangely not human. It was a God-sighting.

These are the stories we share. We are seeking stories like these. Sometimes our stories of failure teach and sometimes our stories of success encourage.

If you have a story please consider submitting to our anthology. You can read more about it by following this link. The deadline is June 1, 2010.

And in the Spirit of Easter (and this story).....Christ Lives